Come at the pyre

  Come all of you, lost and afraid!

  Warm yourself up, sing a song of celebration and dance with the cinders under the dark sky!

  Let your voice speak of the sorrow and pain,

  let the gods hear your plea!

  Drum the earth with your feet, applaud in the open air

  No instrument sings louder at heaven’s door than your heart!

  Come all of you, teared and tried

  Come at the pyre!

  *

  A few days after the ruins expedition the entire upper echelon of the city was in turmoil, that is, not the baron who was concerned only with the usual affairs, but Decen, Alberto’s teacher and Fox, Efar’s father and mentor.

  Gard was preoccupied with the emissaries sent by Sirius, a northern city, who were handed by Alberto to Decen who in turn handed them to the baron who handed them to him.

  ‘This is a plot against me I swear!’ thought Gard while handling mountains of paperwork.

  Silv was wondering why a captain would be so busy with duties he should not have but he saw and understood that Gard’s abilities went beyond his normal work. He was actually good at what he did and coordinated the people around him masterfully.

  Then a man arrived, hooded and secretive. The door barely made a noise and his steps were light. Gard looked at him seriously. Silv tensed up, not knowing what would follow.

  “Did you bring the news?” asked Gard in a grave tone.

  The hooded man nodded.

  “Regarding the city baron’s latest infidelity.”

  ‘Huh? What?’

  “Hehehe…We got him, men! Let us hear it all!”

  Silv watched with apathy as the news were told in greater detail, from who to who did what to the color of their underwear.

  ‘No, why does he know that?’

  But before he even thought of anything else the story was in full swing and he found himself drawn to it.

  ‘Wait, latest? How many infidelities did he do?’

  And just like that another one was caught in the temptation of drama.

  *

  Efar kept pestering Hakon, the warrior clad in iron, to teach him more in how to handle the battle ax. It was a mighty weapon, hacking any who stood against the wielder but it would take Efar some time before he’d be confident enough to take it in battle.

  From under the helmet came the voice of the warrior that often said the same thing.

  “Kid, why do you want to learn something like this?”

  Efar, always sweaty from the training, replied the same.

  “Alberto and Zara have incredible talents while I have to rely on them often. My body is my best weapon.”

  Then Efar would continue training in silence while Hakon mumbled something about crazy youngsters.

  In no time at all Efar’s body was used to the weapon, which left Hakon speechless.

  ‘Something is wrong with his body…his muscles formed too quickly.’

  *

  Alberto was in deep research together with Decen. That was when his teacher started asking unusual questions.

  “Did Efar feel any different from before?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did he show any strange symptoms, unrelated to any illness?”

  “Not that I know of. That curse was the only ailment and even then he wasn’t any less of who he is.”

  These odd questions would not go without Alberto wondering why was Efar so important. He would forget most of it as he was deciphering the images, shown on a clay tablet.

  One day Decen brought to the lab a long parchment made of cow skin.

  Alberto, always one to take on new information, asked what that was.

  Decen took a deep, soft breath.

  “Do you know where magic comes from? Its source before it reaches our mind and then the tips of our fingers?”

  “No,” Alberto said bluntly, still looking hungrily at the parchment, “it is the first time I have heard of this question…”

  Decen slowly unfurled the parchment. It had diagrams and drawings, but mostly words.

  “The Emissary of Magic is the one source of all magic in the world.”

  Alberto looked at Decen incredulously.

  “Emissary? Like the ones we hear in that new church?”

  “Yes. It was my and Seon’s idea to create this small cult. It’s rooted in reality.”

  “Then the Gods are false?”

  “No, they are real. But they are not who they say they are. Compared to an Emissary they are powerless.”

  Alberto heard it all, but it was hard to process. Even back home the Gods were the main religion.

  Then Alberto thought about this differently. If both are real, and one of them is trying to diminish the other, then a conflict of interests would appear at some point.

  “I see you united some dots.”

  “Yeah, a war between them is brewing slowly.”

  “But is that all?”

  Alberto didn’t understand until he saw the tablets from the ruins.

  “The demons. You don’t mean…”

  “Tell me this, dear Alberto. What would a noble at the king's court do to gain power?”

  A question with so many answers. It terrified Alberto that he could see all of them happening.

  There were more things that they’d talk about, with the help of some wine.

  *

  Zara trained hard everyday. She was aware of her weaknesses. She was, in fact, weaker than most girls her age.

  It was a problem that often bugged her mind, especially before meeting Seon and becoming his pupil.

  But things are different now. There was an enemy that out of her friends, only she could deal with swiftly.

  She meditated on what she learned in these years while doing standing push-ups on one hand on a cold morning.

  She followed the Path of the Soul where she trains and uses her soul.

  Similar to magic in flashy effects but too rigid to form anything too complex.

  She did the hundred and fiftieth push-up.

  She could not control flames, her innate element, unless it came from her so she needed to stay in close combat to maximize efficiency.

  But then a problem arose: her weak body.

  Zara ended her warm-up and began training her moves on a training dummy.

  Seon was the one that gave her his signature technique: Empower.

  The dummy slowly turned blacker as it was burned by her fists and feet.

  The fire inside her constantly expelled impurities from her body, making the muscles stronger.

  She hit the dummy with her kneel and followed by ragdolling it left and right with fluid motions.

  She, however, did not suffer only physically. She could not create powerful flames with her hands, only small ones.

  This is the reason why her style uses legs as the physical attack.

  She then jumped back a meter and from her mouth a strong fan of flames engulfed the dummy.

  And her head was the elemental attack.

  Her flames do not only burn, but they engulf the soul. Untrained enemies suffer mentally and wish not to fight anymore.

  The dummy was unburned by the flames, but it was a shambling mess now.

  *

  On one of these days she met Efar in the slums playing with the kids.

  She knew that he was here for other reasons too. That he was slowly but steadily gaining influence with the common people in other ways.

  He was talking with some boys, a little younger than him. The boys had heard news of some new gang forming deeper into the slums and that they were seen closer to the gates, where they were at that moment.

  “What do they look like?”

  “They have thick beards, black like smoke. And long knives!”

  “Anything else?”

  The boys were thinking when one of the older ones answered.

  “Ah! They have their pinky fingers cut!”

  Efar grimaced at this revelation for a second but smiled at them.

  “Thank you. That really helped me.”

  “So will you give us food?”

  “Tch. You little rascals. You were taught well. Here, take it and leave.”

  Zara approached Efar. He had a disgusted expression.

  “What are you planning now?”

  Efar looked at her for a moment before sighing.

  “We need to see this for ourselves. Trouble is brewing, I can tell it. Gard is too busy right now, Father went on another expedition. Alberto and Decen are out of it.”

  “The usual.”

  “Right. The sun is setting.”

  “You want to do it now?”

  “What better time than now?”

  As if they spoke of a plan days before, they ran deeper and deeper into the slums. The darkness enveloped them as the sun slowly disappeared.

  Soon enough they heard drunken laughter and a sound that barely passed as music. Efar also heard a peculiar clinging, not of coins.

  All of this came from a lesser known tavern. Efar tapped Zara’s shoulder and they went to a window on an alley.

  They didn’t even make a sound.

  The voices of the people from inside were rough, croaky or just idiotic in nature but one of them had an interesting piece of information to say in his stupor.

  “Agh but who do those brats take us for eeehhh?! They came in *hic* and they beat our leader then they uhhh…uhhh what was I…”

  He was so drunk he barely strung words together but Efar and Zara understood. Those cultist apprentices came back.

  Then a man sprung his head through the window with a thousand yard stare and a scarred face, but nobody was outside to greet him. He looked right and left and up.

  “...what was that…”

  His voice was like a whisper, filled with venom.

  “Scar…ehhh…come ‘ere…”

  “Chicken.”

  “Ehh…? Whaht?”

  “You drank too much.”

  “So what…you…bast- bleghhhh.”

  And then he puked straight into his meal.

  The man named Scar went back inside to bring Chicken back into his room.

  Zara and Efar were mortified. Fortunately they were quick enough to get past the corners of the tavern.

  “Shit, that scared me.”

  “Ugly as hell too.”

  With that in mind they decided to wait until those guys would fall asleep. The one called Scar was too dangerous but the other one might be easier to deal with.

  They entered through the room’s window and scavenged anything they could find. The loud snoring almost reverberated in the nearly empty room.

  Rummaging through a small pouch they found a small coin with weird runes. They’d have to bring this to Alberto.

  While they were busy stealing a shade snuck behind them. It was Scar.

  Efar heard him at the last moment and stepped away. The attack left him with an injury on his neck that kept on bleeding.

  “Kurk…you…”

  Efar tried to speak but Zara, who stepped aside, looked at him insistently and he shut up.

  “Well well…you two…I guess you were the ones from before…odd, I noticed only one of you back then…”

  Scar got another knife from behind. Efar then noticed a familiar smell. Poison. It was also likely that this man was a specialist.

  There was no reason to continue this fight. They had to go to Gard and tell him about this. The resurgence of the cultists was not too far away.

  Zara might have had the same thoughts as she stepped slightly behind. They could escape through the window, but that may leave them vulnerable for a split second, enough for Scar to attack.

  Scar sprinted at them, making next to no sound, and tried to cut at Efar. It might be that he saw the young tall boy as a bigger danger than the seemingly frail girl.

  But that was a mistake some paid dearly to make.

  As Scar attacked at Efar’s chest Scar felt a sudden surge in temperature and was kicked in his ribs by a fireball. It wasn’t that terrible of a force, but the heat was unbearable.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  He immediately stepped back, barely standing up as he felt his insides boil.

  “Argh ack ack…!”

  He couldn’t hold back his voice. The fire sent jolts of pain he had only once experienced.

  “The damn monks…urgh…”

  Zara’s foot was alight yet it did not burn the wood they stood on. Her flames burned a fiery red with hints of orange. The flames dissipated as fast as they appeared. It wasn’t that she couldn’t maintain them, but she needed every ounce of strength while fighting.

  Efar and Zara seemed a bit more relaxed now since their opponent wasn’t that tough.

  Alas, such is the world that one cannot let his guard down.

  Chicken, who eventually woke up, hit Zara in the head leaving her unconscious.

  Efar looked at the new opponent surprised and scared. He failed to notice that he didn’t snore anymore.

  Scar didn’t let this opportunity slip by and rammed Efar into the wall and hit him repeatedly until he, too, was unconscious.

  “The fuck…man…”

  The alcohol was still in his blood but he was aware enough.

  “Why the hell…did you beat kids…? Urgh my head…”

  Scar sheathed his daggers. He tried to touch the place Zara had hit but he recoiled back, as if he nearly touched an open fire.

  “Do they seem like normal kids to you?”

  Chicken barely looked at them, shrugged and went back to sleep.

  “At least clean up the mess.”

  Scar grumbled but he did so.

  “Oh well…our young masters might be interested in fresh sacrifices.”

  *

  It was nearly midnight when Alberto woke up. He drank some wine to help him stay awake, though it seems like it was of no use. His teacher, Decen, was also in a stupor.

  There were many mysteries in this man. He was taller than any human and had complete white hair despite not looking any older than fifty.

  Alberto groaned as he stood up. His mouth felt sticky and his eyes were slightly unfocused. He went to Decen to wake him up.

  “Teach…get uppp…”

  Decen slightly jolted before opening his eyes. Alberto could swear for a moment that his eyes looked infernal.

  He looked again but Decen’s eyes were the normal brown.

  “Yes yes…I will…”

  Decen stood up slowly and with a gand wave the windows opened letting in the cold air of the spring night.

  “We were overzealous with our drinks.”

  “Not the first time. I will catalog what we found today.”

  “Mm.”

  Decen took a jug of water and sat next to the window. The wind always seemed livelier when Decen did this ‘ritual’.

  He usually said he was just meditating.

  As he sipped from the jug the wind caressed his cheeks and cooled his body.

  Then, at one point he stopped drinking.

  “Alberto.”

  “Yes?”

  “Where are Zara and Efar?”

  “Dunno, the slums? We didn’t talk today but that’s where they usually go.”

  “I see. Come with me.”

  “Why?”

  “They might be in danger. I’ll explain as we go. But before that…”

  Alberto didn’t get it but hearing that his brother and sister are in danger put him on high alert.

  His teacher was amongst the best wizards in the kingdom. If he said there is trouble, then there is truly trouble.

  Decen approached a chest he always kept locked. The lock was fairly simple, anyone could break it. It was just that nobody dared do it.

  He opened it and took out a fairly long staff and gave it to Alberto.

  “Your birthday is a way off but you need it now.”

  Alberto was silent for a bit.

  ‘Is there a catch?’

  But Decen didn’t look twice at him and donned his gear.

  “Come. They need you.”

  Alberto focused. Whether there was a trick or not to garner his favor in the future did not matter. His brother and sister needed him. He’ll take anything if it means their safety.

  At once they left the building.

  *

  When Efar woke up he realized that both he and Zara were bound with rope in a cave. He tried to muster some strength but found himself lacking. In fact, the whole world was kind of blurry.

  His memory was no better. There were some sudden instances when he woke up, but never enough to form a proper image.

  “...and that damn boy. We had to sedate him two times with bull sedatives! What in the hell is wrong with him?!”

  The voice Efar heard was that of Chicken but he couldn’t see clearly.

  He checked in on Zara but she was still unconscious.

  Despite his foggy thoughts he tried to listen to the men.

  “I am more worried about the actual bull. Did they send more?”

  “No…”

  “Damn it. Let’s hope it won’t…”

  “Enough,” said a raspy voice.

  Both of them stopped talking and turned their heads to a boy that seemed familiar to Efar.

  “One of them is awake. He may have heard you.”

  He was a little older than Efar which meant he was an adult. His features were quite usual for what you’d see in the slums: black hair, rough face, a look of slight depression and dirty garments. He held a big club probably made by himself.

  Chicken and Scar turned to Efar as he was the usual culprit.

  “Damn, again?! What the fuck is this kid made of?”

  Scar put a hand on Chicken’s shoulder.

  “Let him. Even as sturdy as he is, he is weakened. Besides, I have an idea. C’mere.”

  They whispered about something for a minute or two, the third man drew a piece of wood from one of his pockets and started sculpting it.

  He was the closest to Efar, about five meters away.

  It was then that Efar saw a big contraption clad in a big cloth. A cage.

  ‘A bull? What are those cultists preparing now?’

  “So, what’s your name kid? We got all the time here.”

  Efar tried to stand up as well as he could without his hands.

  Scar and Chicken didn’t seem to mind as they stopped talking and went further out.

  “Efar.”

  “Van-...Vanjos…”

  He stopped mid sentence as if he remembered something, his knife going off the intended trajectory.

  “Ah shit…” he whispered.

  “What a name.”

  “You tell me. Father had hoped I’d be a hero or something. What a fool. Let me guess, same with you?”

  “Not sure what my name means.”

  Vanjos raised an eyebrow as he tried to correct his sculpting mistake.

  “What do you mean? It’s a hero's name.”

  “Never heard of any Efar the Brave or Efar the Great.”

  “No? Thought all slum kids knew of Efar son of the First Hero.”

  “Sounds like a mouthful of a title.”

  “That is true. But what he did was most impressive. He beat dragons with his empty hands, defeated a leviathan that fell from the sky and threw the Sword of Man into the abyss of the leviathan.”

  Efar listened intently to this story. He never heard of it, it was not part of any local folklore. For all intents and purposes, this was a grand story for sleep time. What gave it some sort of validity, though, was the existence of dragons and the fact Vanjos knew what they were. Something he just recently found out.

  “Vanjos.”

  “Yes?”

  “Where did you hear this story from?”

  “Obviously my father. Always with the tall tales, though I suppose this story has far more details than usual. Makes it fun to memorize.”

  Is there more? And he knew it by heart?

  Their chat was interrupted when Chicken and Scar came back together with two smaller hooded figures.

  Vanjos stood up and approached them, leaving his sculpture and knife there. He bowed slightly and let the people see Efar and Zara.

  At that point they lifted their hoods.

  They were Veni and Veder, two of the three teens who got their asses handed to them by Alberto and Zara respectively.

  “Them again!?”

  Vanjos was surprised.

  “Do you know each other?”

  “Something like that. How did you manage to get two?” asked Veder, the boy with premonition.

  “Scar and Chicken beat them when they tried to steal.”

  Veni and Veder looked at one another then back at the duo.

  “Good job, then. We shall dispose of them then we…huh, what do you want to say?”

  Chicken then spoke.

  “Uh, I know you might know this, but the girl is the daughter of the captain.”

  “And?”

  “I know your master is strong, don’t get me wrong. You two are unusually strong too!”

  “Get to the point.”

  “We should let the girl go. Her father is one of the most powerful men in this city, baron aside. If you harm her anymore I’m afraid we all will suffer.”

  Vanjos looked at Zara stupefied. There were surprises after surprises tonight.

  Veder thought for a bit, Veni did not seem interested in this conversation but looked intently at Efar and approached him.

  Efar looked at her almost uncaringly.

  “If she is off the table then this one will do.”

  At that Scar stiffened up. Veni noticed.

  “What? Spit it out.”

  Scar inhaled.

  “We…might have only one man after us if we do something to him. His father, to be precise.”

  “What can a lone man do anyway? At least the girl has influence through her father,” said Veni as she prepared to kick Efar in the stomach.

  “It’s Fox.”

  Veni abruptly stopped her kick mid air. Veder was also mortified. They knew all too well what that lone man could do.

  Veder let a ‘shit’ leave his mouth.

  It was then that the cage that had been covered made weird noises.

  “Did you properly sedate the bull?” asked Veder.

  “We had to give some to the boy as he kept waking up and causing a ruckus. Couldn’t let anyone hear us during the night.”

  “Are you kidding me?!” Veni almost shouted exasperated.

  The bull, now properly awakened, saw only darkness before him and that angered him.

  He heard humans and that angered him.

  He felt iron around him and that angered him.

  Anything and everything angered the animal.

  As if a button was pressed he thrashed the inside of the cage, bending the bars more and more.

  It was also a smart beast despite its anger issues and tried to destroy the bars in the immediate direction of the humans.

  “Shit. We can’t let it go out, nor can we kill it. We have to calm it down somehow…”said Veder before his sight fell on the two prisoners.

  He had a second of silence.

  Chicken tried to say something but Veder beat him to the race.

  “Everybody, get behind me. Let them two there. Veni, take these and put them one step apart in a line. Fast.”

  Veni did as instructed and took some runestones from Veder. She was incredibly fast and made the line from one wall to another in less than a minute.

  The others did as instructed while Veder took a small stick out of his pouch which grew taller than him in the blink of an eye. It also had runes, gems and a few rare metals on it.

  “What the…”

  “‘Tis magic Chicken.”

  “Yeah, yeah sure sure.”

  As soon as Veni put the last stone she jumped between the others and the ground lifted up until the stick touched the ceiling.

  They were now about three meters up.

  “And for good measure…”

  Veder took out a much more complex runestone than the others and inserted it in the wall on the part facing Efar, Zara and the bull.

  Its effects were not visible.

  “Now they are trapped. No matter what happens it will be seen as an accident after we do a bit of cleaning.”

  Chicken and Scar felt uneasy but couldn’t say anything, else they found themselves on the other end.

  The bull was loudly tearing apart the cage. In a few seconds it’d be free.

  Efar now felt the urgency and looked around for something sharp when he saw the knife Vanjos used for sculpting.

  Veder side eyed Vanjos angrily but Vanjos, unlike the other two, retorted.

  “I’m not the one who raised the wall in a hurry.”

  Veder’s eye twitched but he said nothing. What’s done is done.

  Efar took the knife and cut the ropes both to him and Zara. He barely did so when the bull got out and focused its eyes on Efar.

  It was blacker than night, with its mighty hooves trampling the earth like a king and its mouth foaming red rage. Its eyes were half bloodshot, only the center white.

  The horns were unnaturally bent, forming a demonic imagery unseen before.

  Every muscle full of vitality and strength, none will stand before him.

  Efar wasn’t all that knowledgeable on bulls but he knew that slow movements were, in most cases, the key to survival.

  That only made him the target though and the bull charged with such force that all hairs on Efar’s body stood up.

  He dodged, but by hitting the wall and leaving a gaping hole the bull reminded Efar that life often threads on a hairline.

  Chicken yelled and whistled as if it was a spectacle, forgetting his past fear.

  “Shred the boy! Shred the boy! Shred the boy!”

  Until the bull got its head out from the hole and charged at the wall.

  “Uhhh…”

  Chicken hid behind Scar, using him as a meat shield. Scar grunted not because Chicken did that, but because he did it before him.

  Fortunately whatever spell Veder used made the bull do a full turn back to Efar.

  “Hey, did you just…!?” Scar turned, trying to punch Chicken.

  “I would neveer! I was checking for intruders! Hehe.”

  “Those intruders, you mean?” said Vanjos while preparing his club.

  “Huh?”

  Veni looked back from the spectacle and saw the one she lost to before.

  It was Alberto and Decen. They tried to sneak but it was clear that their talent lay not there.

  “Teacher, they saw us.”

  “Amusingly, yes.”

  Alberto held his own staff like a true wizard with his chest puffed out, proud. Even though the staff was simple in design, especially compared to Veder, it was efficient.

  Made out of iron, copper and bronze, together with runes on the outside and inside, it was a state-of-the-art weapon that will follow him for many years to come.

  Usually he was not one to give names to objects, but he liked this staff so much he couldn’t help himself.

  ‘Dor. Make your enemies regretful.’’

  Vanjos jumped down together with Chicken and Scar.

  “Dunno who you two are but you chose the wrong turn!”

  As expected Chicken jumped into the action and Scar followed him closely.

  “I will deal with other things here. This is your test now. Prove you got what it takes.”

  Decen said and then dissipated into the air.

  Alberto put his hand in his satchel and got two runestones and a vial with an unclear liquid which he drank.

  “Yes.”

  After taking a breath, Alberto hit a runestone with his staff as if it’s a ball, sending it straight to Scar.

  Scar dodged at the last moment but it didn’t matter as it exploded in flames sending him on his stomach, his back burned.

  “What?!”

  Chicken didn’t get a moment as the ground under him shifted and made him fall just before Alberto, who stuck one end of his staff in his back.

  “Ack!”

  A powerful cold overtook Chicken in mere moments sending him in hypothermia faster than the body could handle, and fainted.

  Vanjos saw all this and took a step back.

  ‘Fuck me…’

  Veni came down.

  “Don’t worry, he’s not invincible. Those spells cost a lot.”

  “Not much of a reassurance.”

  “He tried to scare us off.”

  “It worked.”

  “Move your ass.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Vanjos moved in a straight line while Veni moved on the side, throwing small daggers with pinpoint accuracy.

  Alberto was well aware of his weakness, but Veni, still, underestimated him.

  Alberto rotated his staff with one hand, creating a powerful wind which stopped the daggers and from the other hand he made small firefly-like embers which followed Vanjos.

  Expectedly, Vanjos tried to dodge them, but they always followed.

  “Idiot! Those aren’t…” Veni tried to shout but Alberto hit her in the head with a stone.

  It wasn’t a spell, he just threw a stone.

  Veni fell flat on her face, a pool of blood slowly drenching the earth.

  Vanjos understood what she meant so he went through the embers, only for them to explode in his face. He fell flat.

  “Shame, you’re really smart for a thug. Too bad fools keep leading you.”

  Alberto looked at the wall.

  He felt an unusual power from it. Even so, he came closer and touched it.

  ‘I lost a family once due to my doubt. Now I will prove my worth and save them.’

  These were words that often haunted him. That if he thought like this, things would have been different. Now he used them as strength.

  *

  After leaving Alberto, Decen went straight to the wall. He felt an all too familiar energy in the air.

  As soon as Veni jumped down he appeared before Veder.

  He wasn’t startled, rather, he seemed calm.

  “It is you. The betrayer.”

  “Ohoho. Facetious are we?”

  Efar was still fighting off the bull, dodging and outmaneuvering. Most men would have already been too tired for such movements.

  Decen realized something at that moment. Alberto defeated several people by himself, Efar was fighting with an enemy way out of his league and Zara had to wake up.

  All three of them dealt with something unique.

  “You put them like this intentionally. You saw something.”

  Decen said calmly while the air around him got heavier.

  Veder, despite barely standing up, gritted his teeth.

  “They have it all! Suffering comes to us all!”

  Yes. Suffering. He knew it all too well. When his eyes fell on these lost puppies back in the day, that were struggling right now, he saw potential.

  ‘Suffering births ambition for something better. In the hands of even the most wretched, having ambition can make one shake the world.’

  There is more to them than meets the eyes. Decen couldn’t explain it, but their talents were on the surface. If such people gain ambition what will they bring further down the road?

  When he had that thought the first time, he felt shivers down his spine and goosebumps on his arms. For the first time since he came back from hell he felt alive.

  Decen made a step. Then another. Slowly. He was amused at his own thoughts.

  Veder stepped back every time. He was now shaking despite his calm demeanor.

  “Stand back! I will…”

  “Do it.”

  “I have an old friend to meet. And he is with you.”

  “How do you know…”

  From under the sleeves of his robe Decen pulled a whip-like item.

  “I am a Fragment of Wisdom.”

  Veder’s eyes and hair started to change in color. His facial features reflected rage and disgust in inhuman ways, as if looking at something ‘wrong’.

  ‘This is the time of change I so dearly awaited. For me, there will never be a higher honor than to help them.’

  “I challenge the Profane One!”

  As Decen said his proclamation, Veder changed his stance, from that of a coward to that of a lord looking at someone below him.

  Whatever looked at Decen now was ready to finish a job long overdue.