

Emblems

of

Power

from the

Silver Sheen Chronicle

By C.L. Patterson

Edited by Karen L. Schwarze

Cover Illustration by McKenna Cook

Published by Christopher Patterson at Smashwords

Copyright 2015 C.L. Patterson

<http://cpap244.wix.com/silversheenchronicle>

www.thesilversheen.blogspot.com
Table of Contents

PROLOGUE 3

Chapter 1 20

Chapter 2 33

Chapter 3 73

Chapter 4 76

Chapter 5 92

Chapter 6 100

Chapter 7 124

Chapter 8 149

Chapter 9 167

Chapter 10 189

Chapter 11 201

Chapter 12 217

Chapter 13 249

Chapter 14 262

Chapter 15 272

Chapter 16 293

Chapter 17 304

Chapter 18 313

Chapter 19 315

Chapter 20 338

Chapter 21 352

Chapter 22 357

Chapter 23 364

Chapter 24 374

Chapter 25 382

EPILOGUE 399

PROLOGUE

Fields that were lush and green the day before were now flat and ashen-grey, the chlorophyll seemingly sucked dry from their stems. The dried stalks twitched, like rotting silica as the stiff northern wind brushed over the dead plants. There was a stillness in the silence of the morning. Hawks, sparrows, and other birds lay lifeless in the fields alongside their rodent prey buried in the grain. A soft stench of decomposition traveled south with the wind.

The farmer who owned the crops started out to do his morning chores before the sun rose. He noticed the fields before he stepped off the porch. He rushed over to the barn. As he ran, bushes, trees, and other shrubbery turned black and withered. The barn was tilted from the constant blowing of wind. The faded brown cedar boards seemed to be all that held the structure intact.

The gray dairy cattle bellowed, grunted, kicked, and butted their heads against the walls. The farmer quickly opened the gate and climbed up on the panels for protection from the small stampede. The cattle ran out of the barn and then away from the still blackening ground. The pigs grunted, squealed and bit at each other until their gate was opened, and then followed the cattle, snorting as they ran.

Two brown quarter horses were in the attached paddock, rising and rubbing up against the fence. The farmer grabbed the two bridles off the wall before walking cautiously out into the fenced field. The horses calmed at the familiar scent and face of the farmer and trotted up to him. They nuzzled his shirt as he fit the bridles onto each horse. He led them out of the gate to the house at a slow run. The family was already up having heard the animals escape the barn.

"Go out the back! Go out the back!" the farmer yelled. His three daughters stared at him drowsily. The youngest, a four-year-old with blond, wispy hair whipping about her face started to walk towards him. The wife picked her up just before she stepped onto the blackened ground.

"C'mon girls, out the back," the wife ordered. The children seemed to understand the eagerness of the situation, but their confusion was apparent in the slight hesitation as they turned back the house and looked back repeatedly at their father. The blackened ground lashed out in segments like an uneven wave, eagerly searching for any portion of life. The farmer walked around the expanding blackened grass and dirt to the back of the farmhouse.

The farmer met his family at the steps and gave the reigns of the horses to his oldest daughter of sixteen. Without saying a word, he helped his wife onto one of the horses. As soon as she was set, he lifted his youngest daughter up to her.

"What's happening daddy, why do we have to go?" asked the middle child as the farmer lifted her up to the first horse to sit behind her mother.

"No time to explain," he said softly, trying to hide the fear of the events that would follow. The oldest daughter handed the reins up to her mother.

"I will see you in Varlette," the wife called as she kicked the horse into a gallop. She held her youngest tightly against her with her left harm, while the other daughter gripped her mother's waist with both arms. The oldest daughter's knuckles turned white as she continued to grip the reins of the other horse. The farmer tried to convey to his family that he was controlled and not afraid and hoped that his calmness would ease the fear and tension of the morning. The white knuckled grip of his daughter on the reins showed that she, too, was attempting to hide the fear that was growing within her.

"Up you go now!" the farmer said as helped his oldest daughter get atop the horse. She held out a hand for her father. With her aid, adrenaline, and a little of a running start, the father pulled himself up on the horse. He grabbed the reigns and kicked the horse firmly.

The horses' hooves pounded into the earth. Dirt clods and tuffs of grass flung backwards as they charged down the road. Old oak trees grew along either side of the road leading away from the farm and towards the main highway. There was enough space between the trees that their leaves and branches didn't obstruct the view of the sky or surrounding scenery. A mile ahead, the road turned to the southwest and connected to highway that would take them to Varlette. Tears formed in the daughter's eyes and mixed with the dirt on her face creating brown, muddy trails down to her chin. Soon enough, the farmer caught up with his wife and other daughters. The wife was focused ahead as she held her youngest close to her in one arm and the reigns with the other hand. The second daughter cinched her hands around her mother and kept her head down, out of the dirt and wind.

There was no time to ask how the other was doing. The farmer stole a look back toward their farm. As the crest of the sun rose, the vastness of the blackened earth was reminiscent of a fissure that destroyed the western lost city of Olfstead. He lived there prior and what had given him the experience to know to flee with his family by horseback.

The blackened ground and vegetation stretched from one horizon to the other. The farmer focused on the road. He knew what would happen next. The blackening earth ceased to spread, but the farmer continued to push his horse on. Now was not the time to slow their pace.

There was a deafening boom far behind them,. The wife's horse bolted, galloping even faster than before. The farmer's horse reared up and turned, throwing both he and his daughter from its back. The daughter had let go and rolled away. The farmer took fell squarely on his back. Pain shot through his spine. He tried to breath, but only a sharp wheeze came in. As the sound of the boom reverberated in the air, it was followed by a series of sharp cracks.

The farmer struggled to breathe and disregarded the pain he felt through his body. He scanned the ground for his daughter. She was kneeling off the road with her ears covered, screaming, but the farmer couldn't hear her. Staggering, and beginning to catch his breath, the father walked over to her, picked her up off the ground, grabbed her by the hand and started running again.

"Do you see your mother anywhere?" He asked this question not looking for an answer, but to keep his daughter's eyes focused ahead. A look back would slow them, and they would waste precious seconds. The daughter read his lips, still unable to hear her father over the sound of the earth breaking.

"No!" the daughter yelled.

The simple distraction lasted only a few seconds. The earth shook violently tossing both to the ground a second time. The cracking continued followed by a second and third boom that was more felt than heard. Mountain-sized sections of black earth rolled and turned in place, cracking and breaking away from other portions of land. Red and green arcs of light shot out from the chasm and wrapped around the rotating segments of earth, forming a multicolored web on a pitch-dark canvass.

The next instant, the web contracted, slicing through the immense portions of stone and dirt. As the portions of dirt, boulder and rock tumbled into the fissure, streaks of red fire shot out, weaved in and out of the falling debris and began a graceful arc back towards the ground.

"Run!" the father screamed as he pushed himself up. He raced over to his daughter at a crouch, picked her up, took her by the hand and ran again. He couldn't feel his legs as he fled. Whatever pain was in his back from the fall, was now blocked with fear. Trees and surrounding crops blurred in his periphery vision; the only clear mark was the path ahead.

Fire cracked closely behind him. A phoenix, one of the many that raced out of the fissure, was diving towards him. It opened its mouth and cried. The cry sounded like billowing forge fire. The farmer jumped forward and lay on the ground, covering his daughter. The phoenix snapped its jaw shut, just missing the farmer's neck. A searing heat followed and quickly passed. The phoenix banked right and shot up into the sky again.

He looked briefly down at his daughter. She was still alive. She was looking up at the phoenix. The farmer followed her gaze and saw the creature. It cried again and turned back down towards the farmer; eyes locked on its fallen prey. It was no larger than a common eagle, save for the two elongated tail feathers that turned to fire towards their tips. Its orange, red, green and other flame colored plumage were laced with fire that peeled off with each wing beat. The ground and crops that hadn't been turned black were now ablaze from the fire of the phoenixes.

Something had caught the phoenix's eye. It opened its wings, spiraled and flew back in the other direction, flapping frantically and sending more arcs of fire into the air. The farmer stood up with his daughter and continued to run, this time without the aid of adrenaline. His muscles cramped and tightened as he began to sprint. Pain shot through his legs and back. Every stride, every step, every motion stabbed at his muscles and bones.

Behind them, a massive stone hand the size of the house reached up from the fissure and slapped down on the ground, sending up a cloud of black and grey dust. Shortly after, another hand reached up and slammed down. A head soon followed that had hollow eyes and slits for nostrils. As the rock golem swung its legs up and stood on the ground, it stooped down and started to smell the ground.

The turn on the road was just ahead. The farmer made a mental goal to reach that turn, thinking that perhaps the horse had stopped and was waiting for him there.

Suddenly, a wave of water rushed from around the turn, carrying a green wyvern in its debris. Its two legs thrashed in the current. The sharp talons cut through the water, but the force of the water pushed the creature forward. It gurgled and howled when its head was out of water and flapped its thin leather wings to escape the liquid prison. Two horns grew from the back of the head, just above its ears and curved underneath its jaw. When the wave and creature slammed into one of the oak trees, the horns broke off like toothpicks.

The water subsided and the creature stood, shook its head. It screeched at something and charged forward, but a white lightning bolt shot out from around the turn and struck the wyvern. The farmer blinked from the flash of light and ducked when the boom of thunder struck him in the chest. The wyvern was dead when he opened his eyes.

Two groups appeared from around the turn. One he recognized as the Guard, and the other as conduits. The Guard wore chainmail over white shirts, holding a small buckler in one arm, a spear in another, with a sword tied to their hip. Metal plating was sewn into their trousers and shirts, protecting their shins, thighs, arms and shoulders. The guards also wore leather gloves with similar plating along the back of the hands and phalanges.

The conduits wore white shirts and pants with lace-up sleeves and a blue, green or purple stripe down the side. The father grabbed his daughter's hand and they ran towards the group. As they ran, a portion of the Guard and conduits charged towards golem.

When the farmer reached the Guard, the Guard surrounded him and his daughter with their backs turned towards them. Within the circle was one of the Guard and a female conduit. The guard was a large olive-skinned man and wore the three-pronged iron amulet of the lieutenant around his neck. The conduit wore a white uniform with a purple stripe down the side. The conduit had braided, shoulder length red hair, fair skin, and blue stormy eyes.

"My name is Lieutenant Nuevon, this is Mearto, a healer. Is anyone hurt?" the lieutenant said. He spoke in a deep voice, but it was soft and concerned. The farmer looked at his daughter.

"Nothing I can't manage," the farmer said with a grimace.

"My dad fell from his horse," the daughter replied.

"But we don't have time. I'll be fine until we are safe."

"Good," the lieutenant said. "There is a caravan in Varlette waiting to take you to the Capital." Nuevon whistled and two of the guards turned to face the family. "These two men will ensure you get there safely."

"My wife? Did you see her and my other two daughters?" the father asked frantically.

"They are currently being taken to Varlette," Mearto said, pointing down the road. "Continue down the road and join the caravan. It will take you to safety. Hurry!"

[][][]

The evening air of Noiknaer was unusually damp. The cold, wet winds from the south were heated by the desert sun and traveled north, where the sappy air stuck to the cement walls and buildings. The moisture settled in every alleyway, crevice and corner of the capital city. On the east side of the city, just south of the Gate, were the Capital Barracks. Next to the Barracks were the horse stables. The stable boy, a small twelve-year-old named Joren, returned from his last trip to the fountain at the center of the city, carrying water buckets with a pole laid across his shoulders to fill the troughs for the horses.

When the water troughs were filled, Joren dipped his hand into the water, took a quick sip and splashed his curly blonde hair, the taste of sweat and hard water tickling his tongue. A white horse nudged him and nibbled at his shirt.

"All right, all right," Joren said softly, rubbing his wet hand down the horse's neck. "At least one of us should try to eat before the day is done." Joren started up the ladder to the hay loft but stopped. Someone was running towards the stable. He turned and saw a woman running towards the Barracks. Joren watched as she ran up to the entrance of the Barracks and pounded on the large wooded double doors.

"Open up, open up!" she screamed. "Captain! Someone, anyone, open up!" Joren started towards the woman.

"Dinner will have to wait," he told the horses before he ran to the woman. She wore a brown dress. A red shall was wrapped around the lower part of her face and draped over her right shoulder. An infant cried in her arms.

"What's wrong?" Joren asked.

"It's the Captain," she said as she continued banging on the door. "I need to see him. It's an emergency. Captain!" She yelled towards the Barracks again. As the woman yelled, the infant cried louder. She held the child tightly against her breast and turned to Joren. "It's the child. His life is at stake. It cannot wait."

"Calm down, I'll get you to him," Joren said. He took a key from his pocket, unlocked the door, and led her in the Barracks. Her bare feet slapped against the marble tile as they rushed down the hallway towards the Captain's office. Joren knocked on the door twice.

"Captain, it's Joren. There is an emergency," he said as he knocked a third time on the heavy wooden door.

The door opened and the Captain looked at him and then the woman. He was much taller than both of them, with sandy hair that went to his broad shoulders. Well sculpted muscles bulged from beneath his shirt. He wore a four-pronged silver amulet around his neck, the insignia of his office, title, and name. Sweat rolled down his square jaw and beaded above his upper lip.

"What's the matter," the Captain said in a deep, soft voice.

"Take my son, take him and protect him," the woman said, cradling her child in her arms tightly. The Captain leaned forward and looked at the child.

"And who are you that I would take your child?" he asked, taking a couple cautious steps backwards. The Captain looked at her again, seeing her bare feet, brown dress and red shawl. Most every man knew of that garb, and of the women who wore it. Their children never fared well in the world. "You're a harlot. Do not pass him onto me," the Captain said. The woman backed away and held the child even tighter. "He will grow and work in the gates like every other bastard that comes from the brothel." The Captain started to shut his door.

"But the child knows his father," the woman said. She slowly removed her shawl from around her face and let it fall to the floor. The Captain's eyes widened. Her hair was black as night, skin as tan as the desert, olive shaped eyes, a scar across her right eyebrow. She stared at the Captain, torch and candlelight reflecting off her stern and forceful blue eyes.

"Anna," the Captain said, almost in a whisper.

"And you, at one time, knew me," Anna said.

"That's putting it lightly. The months and days you spent seducing me, luring me to you. And how did I repay you? I took you as a wife!" Anna lowered her head as the Captain yelled. "I took you out of the brothel, I put a good roof over your head, food on your plate, made sure you had everything, ensuring that you would never be there again. I more than lusted after you, I loved you! I'd say that is more than knowing you. And then you left. There was no reason-"

"I had my reason," Anna said softly, looking down at the child, speaking more to it than to the Captain.

"And was the child, our child, the reason? Tell me it wasn't so."

"That doesn't matter now."

"It does matter. You will answer me as Captain of the Guard."

Anna looked up at the Captain.

"For the briefest of moments, Captain, trust me as you once did. You are the child's father. A man is hunting me because of my heritage, and if he discovers that I had a child, my son, our son, will also be hunted and killed. The child must never know that I am his mother, and you will never speak to him of me. He is your son. Look on him and you will see I speak the truth."

The Captain looked down at the infant. He had his mother's eye, nose, lips, and hair, but had the Captain's jaw, forehead and ears.

"What is in the past is done. I believe and trust what you say. Who is hunting you?" the Captain asked. He looked at Joren. "Go gather my senior guard--"

"No," Anna said softly. She put her thin hand on the Captain's arm. His skin chilled at her touch.

"Do as your told Joren, she has no authority here." Joren saluted and ran down the hall. "We can protect you," the Captain said to Anna.

"No. For the sake of the child, no one can ever know I was here. Please, as a last act for my child, our child, let me go and do not follow me."

The Captain was silent for a moment, looking only at the child in the prostitute's arms.

"I concede that I am his father, but I do not and will not allow you to walk away. Who is hunting you?"

"I am unsure, but I will be able to elude him easily enough. I am a woman of the night, and the night knows me. It will hide me away safely."

As she finished talking, ten other guards jogged up and stood at attention. Each wore chainmail shirt, helmet, armor plated leather pants and boots, with a short sword attached to their hip and a small shield strapped to their back. The Captain smiled at their quick assembly and then pointed at the guards.

"Who hear has taken care of an infant before?" the Captain asked the group. One of the guards stepped forward. The Captain smiled again. The guard's name was Osguud. He was of average height, younger than the rest of the Senior Guard members, and came from a family of eight.

"Osguud, take the infant for the evening. You may stay in my quarters until I return. If you need anything, ask Joren for assistance. Osguud removed his chainmail shirt, sword, shield and helmet and handed them to the guard at his left. He then walked up to Anna and held his arms in a cradle like pose. Carefully Anna transferred the infant into the guard's arms, her tan, smooth skin brushing his. Osguud blushed from the contact but focused on the task. He ensured that the infant's head was supported and that he held the full weight of the child in his arms before moving away.

"Your equipment will be placed in my quarters as well, for the time being. The rest of you will follow Anna, but not too closely. She claims that she is being hunted. Your task this evening is to find that hunter. If she is yet alive by daybreak, she will be let go and you will return here."

"Yes sir," the guards replied in unison. The baby cried from the sudden noise. Osguud shook his head, rocked the infant gently in his arms, walked into the Captain's quarters and shut the door.

"He must never know of me," Anna said. "I fear that his life will end if ever he finds out. Swear to me on your life and the life of your Guard that he will never know of me." The Captain looked down at his quarters. The infant stopped crying.

"Swear to me," Anna said again.

"I swear it," the Captain said. Anna wrapped her shawl back around her face and turned to leave. "Wait!" Anna stopped and the Captain walked up to her. He pulled a loose string from his shirt and handed it to her. "For safety," he said. "What is his name?"

"Kosai." Anna wrapped the string around her finger and held to it tightly. She didn't say goodbye but looked back once before disappearing into the dark.

"Let's go," the Captain ordered. "And take Joren with you. I think it's about time he understood what we do."

Joren smiled, nodded, and jogged out of the Barracks behind the Guard. It was a moonless night. Light from small homes slightly illuminated the streets and Anna was nowhere to be seen. The Captain looked in all directions, searching for her. The Guard split up, looking for any sign of the woman. Joren walked behind the stable and looked south, down Outer road. A few squares of light shone on the dusty road, but the road was empty. He looked north and saw Anna running towards the Gate.

Joren drew a large arrow in the dust with his foot pointing towards the Gate, gave a short, high pitched whistle and ran after her. The Guard caught up to him quickly. Anna stopped at the Gate. Her arms flexed and then went rigid to her sides, as if she were coiled by a large serpent. A low dark cloud, carried by a cold wind, slowly rolled over the wall. Purple lightning flashed in the dark mass as it passed the Gate tower. Thunder boomed, shaking the walls and creating a wind of its own. Joren lifted his hand to protect his eyes.

The cloud descended into the street and surrounded the harlot. Lightning flashed again, followed by another boom of thunder. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the dark cloud lifted like old smoke into the night. Anna was gone.

Joren stared at the gate, unsure of what he had seen. He turned to run towards the Barracks but stopped. The Captain stood behind him, his face without emotion as he stared at where Anna had once been.

"Sir, did you see that?" Joren asked, shaking.

"Yes," the Captain said, tremnbling.

"What are you going to do?"

The Captain was silent. He looked up at the towers and a look of concern finally appeared on his face.

"Go to the Barracks, check on the child. Tell no one what you have seen. There'll be an extra piece of silver for you in the morning if you keep your mouth shut."

The boy nodded and ran back to the Barracks, but the Captain remained. The Captain looked up at the tower next to the gate. Shortly after, one of the senior guards walked up to the Captain.

"Your orders sir?"

"Hand me your sword and stand watch. I don't want any civilians coming anywhere near the Gate."

The Guard saluted and gave the Captain a sword. Shortly after, the guard started giving orders to set up a perimeter around the Gate. The Captain went through a small door next to the Gate and walked up a set of tight-spiraling, stone stairs. When he reached the top of the stairs, he pushed open a trap door, pulled himself onto the viewing platform, and nearly dropped the sword he had been given. His eyes widened with anger.

Blood was smeared across the floor and walls and the guard that was supposed to be on duty was missing. The Captain turned, examining the platform, searching for foot or handprints, but only found his own. The dark cloud reappeared and settled around the tower.

"Captain of the Guard," a deep voice crackled.

"Show yourself," the Captain hissed back. Suddenly, a black-hooded figure materialized from the shadows a few inches from the Captain's face. The Captain stabbed the figure through with his blade, but the figure didn't flinch.

"You cannot kill me," it said, as it pushed the Captain away, the sword passing through the figure as if it were cutting air. The figure held a thin brown leather strap that was connected to a vial filled with black liquid. The vial dangled beneath the figures hand, swaying slightly. "I have a need of you and your Guard."

"We serve only the people," the Captain said.

"You will serve me in time. I will call on you again."

As the figure turned, the Captain swung at the figure, the blade slicing through the enemies neck, but the figure vanished without harm. The cloud lifted, and the Captain was left standing on the tower in the blood of one of his men, overlooking Noiknaer.
CHAPTER 1

Sixteen years later...

Just inside the Gate of the capital city Noiknaer, teams of large, black scaled serpents snorted and chewed on metal bits with their flat, block like teeth. The bits were attached to steel harnesses that wrapped around their neck and shoulders and attached them to the wagons that they were to pull across the desert sands. The lizards were twice as large as an ox, but as tame as a dog. They were called suon and were used in the country of Tessír as pack animals.

The wagons were like boats, ranging from twenty to thirty feet in length with four wooden wheels and an open top. A seat for the driver was towards the front. A two-foot-wide walkway extended from the front of the wagon to the back. There were two ladders in each wagon, one just behind the driver's seat and another at the back. The back of the wagon opened downward to create a ramp when the wagons were being loaded and unloaded with boxes and cargo.

Tessír bordered the ocean on its southern and eastern sides. The northern area near the city of Varlette, was overrun with seeps that occurred sixteen years ago, and were still growing. All but a few acres of tillable land remained but were still too dangerous to farm. West of Varlette was the lost city of Olfstead, where many years before, another seep swallowed the town and surrounding area in a few moments.

Luckily, a seer at the School of the Faye Saw into the future, searching for another seep. When the seep was spotted, there was ample time to evacuate the city and bring them to Noiknaer.

To the west were the nearly impassible mountains, The Broken Blades. The Broken Blades stretched down from the north and continued southward, forming an isthmus between Tessír and the country of Caite.

Caite exported corn, barley, wheat, oats and other agriculture products which were purchased from two groups within Tessír, the government and the Three Brothers Merchant Company, a syndicate of merchants that spread through the country like an army of ants. The government used gold and ores extracted from the mines of Linnouse, a city in the center of Tessír, to pay for the goods and then distributed them throughout the country, using much of what was considered excess to feed the poor and homeless.

The Three Brothers were more efficient than the government caravans in transporting grains around the country. The Three Brothers also purchased iron ore from Linnouse and timber from Caite, shipping it quickly to places where it was most needed, and received the highest prices.

The suon stomped and shook their heads, the dark purple and green undertones of their scales shimmering in the sun. There were two caravans, consisting of thirty wagons, all filled with goods from the various schools of Noiknaer. Golden yellow and blue carafes, vases and bottles from the School of Pottery and Glass rattled as the suon moved the wagon forward slightly. Sharp and shining axe blades, hammers, nails, chisels and other tools from the Forge, a school for blacksmiths, and The Three Brothers' Smith and Repair clinked together. The caravans also carried clothing, carpets, rugs and tapestries from weavers and artists.

Twelve of the wagons waved the two banners of Tessír. One banner bore a red hammer and anvil embroidered on a white flag. The other showed a white fist grasping two stems of wheat on a red flag. The other eighteen wagons bore the emblem of the Three Brothers. Their flag was red, with two golden serpents spiraling around each other, facing each other with an open mouth, long fangs exposed.

At the front of the government caravan, one of the suon hissed and bit at his teammate. Scales crunched in his jaws, but no blood was drawn. The lead caravan driver dismounted from his seat and ran up to his beasts. He patted each of their necks. His touch seemed to calm the animals as they eased their breathing into slow, smooth, steady rhythms.

"Seems your suon is nervous about the journey today," called a driver from the Three Brothers. "Perhaps you should listen to him and stay home." The government driver said nothing, but let out long, low tones next to the lizard's eye.

"Did you hear me driver? Stay home. You won't make it. Leave the trading to real professionals," the syndicate driver called. Other drivers of his company started laughing.

"Hold your tongues!" someone called in a sharp voice. A band of six guards approached the government caravan, setting the giant lizards on edge a second time. Five were dressed in a white tunic and light chainmail. White cloth covered their faces, with a small slit for their eyes. Each carried a short saber at their hip and a shield tied to their back. The sixth sat upon a white horse and also wore a white tunic, light-mail, plated armor, and additionally wore a light grey hooded cape over his battle dress. He didn't carry a shield. His hood was up, and a white mask covered the lower part of his face, shielding his nose and mouth. A solid red mark was painted on the right cheek of his mask. It looked like two fangs drenched in blood with a blade resting on the top of them. A cutlass was sheathed on each hip.

"What authority does the Guard have over us?" the driver from the Three Brothers asked. He wore a red shirt with gold buttons up the front. His hands were decorated with gemmed rings. The sunlight glared off his black polished boots. Silver rimmed goggles were attached to a leather strap that wrapped around his neck. The guard on the horse pulled up to the syndicate wagon and looked up at the driver.

The horse carried his head high and the rider sat straight and tall in the saddle, his gray cloak flapping behind him in the wind. The guard pulled the sword on his right hip partially out of its sheath, showing a portion of the blade. He twisted it in the sun, showing its slight red tint.

"I command my blade to cut and it obeys," he said quietly, then re-sheathed his sword. "Your tongue would do well to remember that." He turned away and the caravan of the Three Brothers moved towards the gate. The gatekeeper to the south of the gate snapped his whip into the air, the loud crack carrying across the wind.

On each side of the gate was metal gear with long metal bars sticking out of it. There wasn't a bare spot of metal showing as prisoners, chained together and to the center of the cog, placed their hand on the steel rods. People were sent to the gate for theft, murder, blackmail, debt, and occasionally counterfeiting. As the prisoners pushed the gear, the gear pulled a chain connected to the Gate. The south side opened slowly, grinding against the stony ground.

The criminals would be locked into the gears, forced to stand all day. At night, the criminals were shackled to walls inside the wall and given a square of hard bread and water, which was more than they could get in the streets. It was because of this promise of food that the gears were full, and why when the gatekeeper cracked his whip again, the gate opened with seemingly minimal effort.

The drivers of the government caravan were completely covered in a grey, mesh-like cloth. Each had a set of dark goggles that was strapped with leather and rested around their necks. The lead driver pulled away from his beasts and approached the guards.

"Only six of you? This caravan is twelve long!" the caravan driver said.

Nomads survived in the desert by wandering in search of water and food. The nomads raided the caravans and killed the slow moving suon for food. It was because of the nomadic attacks that the poor starved in the cities and resorted to crime.

"Our numbers are few, but you will be safe," one of the guards on foot said. His name was Joren, and he was the unit leader for the escort. "Kosai, senior student, known by some as the Wolf of the Capital Barracks, is with us, as are the prayers of the city." He pulled a pouch from his belt filled with short strands of string. The caravan driver looked at Kosai and stepped closer to the guard with the pouch of string.

"Are what they say about him true, that he killed more nomads than any other guard in history? Has he defeated a band without unsheathing his sword?" he whispered.

"No," the guard said. The caravan driver sighed and lowered his head. Then the guard continued. "He has done worse. His swords, when unsheathed, reflect a red tint from the permanent stain of innards. Though he is a student, without the Wolf, many of us would not be here. He has saved us when the odds have seemed insurmountable. Be of good cheer, your caravan is in good hands." The caravan driver looked up at Kosai one last time and then turned to his wagon. He whistled sharply, raised his hand above his head, swung it in a circle, and then took his seat in the lead wagon. The caravan moved out into the early morning with the five guards on their right and Kosai on their left.

As the sun broke over the horizon, ground seemed to evaporate around them. Every few minutes the group stopped and drank from the water barrels that the caravan carried. They journeyed in silence as the sun passed slowly overhead.

In the distance, the horizon disappeared in a watery haze. Sand peeled off sand dunes and rolled in the wind. A cold wind shifted towards them, stirring more sand into a brown and red cloud.

"Cover up, sandstorm ahead!" the lead caravan driver yelled. The caravan halted and the drivers jumped down from their seats. Each pulled out a thick canvass from under the wagons. The guards helped throw the canvass over the wagon and tie it to the other side. After ensuring that all the corners of the canvass were tied and secured, the drivers released the suon.

"What are you doing?" one of the guards asked.

"In case there is something else in the storm, I wish for my animals to be able to defend themselves. Their thrashing will destroy the wagons and they could easily become tangled in the ropes," the caravan driver said.

Kosai got off the horse, led the animal between the first two wagons, helped the horse lay down and placed his head inside the protective canvass covering. One of the drivers slid inside and patted the horse's neck. The five guards stood in a staggered line and looked at the storm. Satisfied with the horse, Kosai walked up to them and stood in the middle of the group. He took a step towards the growing storm. His two swords swayed and bumped his sides as the wind increased in speed.

"Kosai, what do you see?" asked one of the guards. The sandstorm continued towards them and then stopped a few paces away from the line of guards. Flecks of sand pelted them while the wind roared past. The red sand on the edge of the storm swirled and moved from right to left, forming a moving wall.

"Stay with the caravan. This storm isn't normal," Kosai said.

"Kosai, mind your place," one of the guards said. "You are still a student. You and I will go into the storm, but only briefly. The rest of you keep watch."

"Aye sir," the guards said in unison.

Kosai was the Captain's son and often took the lead in skirmishes against nomadic tribes. While he didn't hold an official rank within the Guard, his courage, strength and skill were respected.

Kosai drew his swords and entered the storm as Joren followed him. The inside of the storm was like a dense fog. Kosai saw only few feet in front of him. He tried to listen to his surroundings but the high-pitched wind and rushing sand screamed around him. The red sand clung to his moist body, mixing with the sweat that covered his back, neck, and arms. Not far into the storm, he found a boulder that was half as tall as he was and half covered in sand.

"Joren, I found high ground!" Kosai called. Hearing nothing, he turned to find him, but Joren was out of sight. Kosai climbed it and stood on the top and searched for him.

As he looked, shadows of three creatures darted around him in the storm. They were known as lindworms. They were five to seven feet long with rows and rows of needlelike teeth that curved backwards into the mouth. A few guards had been killed in the past after being bitten by the lindworm, suffering from blood poisoning caused by the creature's saliva. If they were lucky, the wounded limb would be amputated. The scales of the lindworm posed another problem. They were small and thick, and as hard as scale male. Swords and spears could not penetrate the armor-like coat. The inside of the mouth was tender, as was their underside, and powerful down and upstrokes worked well against them.

One of the desert lizards circled Kosai and clawed at the rock. The Wolf raised his swords and swung them down on the lizard's head. Each embedded in the creature's skull, and as he pulled it out, blood sprayed upward. The creature twitched as its blood pooled and congealed with the sand. As he looked at his first kill, another lizard jumped from behind him and tackled him off the rock.

While in mid fall, Kosai turned, tucked his legs into his chest and kicked the creature over his head. Kosai continued to turn and landed on his feet. The lizard recuperated from its fall and charged with an open mouth. Kosai side-stepped left and slashed with both blades. The swords shattered the lizard's teeth before dividing its head.

The third lizard was off to Kosai's left. It flicked its tongue and waited. Kosai walked slowly up to the lizard and raised his swords. Something struck his back and his ribs cracked with the impact. He wheezed as the air left his lungs, and he fell on the sand. He tried to push himself up and screamed as pain shot though his chest. The sword that he held in his left hand was knocked away from him, but he still held the other in his right. He used his legs to roll himself onto his back. A black hooded figure stood over him, but it was not a nomad.

A black turban was wrapped around his head and face. Two glowing amber eyes peered at Kosai. His cloak was shredded and torn. Metal plates covered his shoulders, elbows, knees and wrists; sharp, thorn-like points protruding from the middle of them. Plated gloves covered his hand with sharpened points at the fingertips. In his right hand, he held a long club with brass spheres embedded into the wood. A glass vial filled with a black substance was attached to a leather strap which was wrapped around the figure's left hand. His body was concealed in a black robe. Dark ethereal tendrils flowed around him.

He raised the club above his head. Kosai screamed past the pain and stabbed upwards with his sword. The blade sank into the torso of the figure, but it felt as if he was stabbing at air. The figure laughed and struck his club down across the sword. The blade snapped in half and the figure pulled out the portion of the blade that was in him. Kosai expected to find blood tracing the sharp edge of the blade but found none.

He grabbed is shoulder and began to push himself away with his legs. The hooded figure took the broken blade and threw it down at Kosai, puncturing his left thigh just above the metal armor, and went through and through. Kosai screamed again and grabbed his leg with one hand just above the wound. With the other, he grabbed the blade and attempted to pull it out. As the figure walked slowly closer, Kosai jerked the blade free and held it tightly in his hand. The sharp edge sliced into the crevices of his fingers, drawing jagged streams of blood.

The hooded figure walked closer and planted his pointed boot onto Kosai's chest. Kosai slashed at the dark figure, this time connecting and drawing a black cut across the figures leg. The figure hissed, growled, and raised his club again. The wolf switched the blade into an underhanded position and slashed at the figure's falling arm. The strike connected. The figure recoiled, dropped his club and grabbed his wrist. A stream of purple lightening snapped and crackled around the black vial and quickly faded.

Sand continued to blow around them. The hooded figure made no noise as it slowly backed away and disappeared in the storm. Quickly, Kosai looked around him, checking his surroundings for lindworms. He could see a single shadow slowly crawling towards him. Its tail and head rocked side to side as it flicked its tongue, tasting the gritty air.

He turned onto his belly and held the broken sword blade upright. The lizard stopped and slowly turned its head to one side and then the other. Then it looked in his direction and rushed towards him. The sound of the lizard's claws tearing across the ground could be heard above the howling wind.

The lizard appeared out of the brown haze with an open jaw, showing its sharp, curled teeth. Kosai sliced at the open jaw, cutting deeply into the corner of the creature's mouth. It hissed and began to circle around the wounded Kosai. A surge of energy, driven by fear gave him the strength to turn on the coarse ground, keeping his head pointed towards the lizard.

The lindworm inched closer and swatted Kosai with his claw. Instinctually, Kosai raised the blade to intercept the attack. The sharp talons of the creature tore into his forearm and dug deeply into his flesh. Kosai's arm tensed in pain. The lindworm swatted at the blade and knocked it away. It took another step closer and swiped at Kosai with the other claw. Kosai lifted his arm to protect his head. His bloodied forearm was batted away, the lizard's talons passing just over his head.

The lizard lunged with his open, bloody mouth. Kosai clenched his right hand and swung at lizard's head, hitting him in the eye, but the lizard was undeterred. The razor like teeth sank into his left shoulder.

Kosai screamed and struck again, but the lizard did not loosen its bite. He was losing feeling in the injured arm and could feel the vast amounts of blood draining onto his skin. Time was running out.

Kosai straightened his two of his fingers in his right hand and jabbed them into the hard-black eye of the lizard. The eye collapsed and Kosai began to pull on the creature's eye socket. The lizard shrieked and released Kosai's shoulder, ripping small chunks of flesh from his shoulder and ran into the storm.

The storm passed as soon as the lizard vanished. He was a few paces away from the caravan and the guard that entered the storm with him. Kosai screamed in pain as the adrenaline faded. The guards and the lead caravan driver rushed up to him.

"When you said he spilled blood, I wasn't expecting his own," the caravan driver said accusingly.

"Silence trader," Kosai muttered. The guards carefully rolled Kosai onto his back. He coughed and choked.

"Kosai, what happened?" Joren asked. Kosai didn't respond. The caravan driver faced the wagon and placed his arms above his head in an "X". The other drivers looked at Kosai eagerly for a moment, and then jumped from their seats into their wagons. Each came to the lead driver with medical supplies. The driver unstopped a bottle filled with light brown liquid, held Kosai's head up and forced the fluid down his throat. Kosai groaned and twitched in pain and fell unconscious.

The other drivers removed Kosai's shirt and bandaged his shoulder. A tourniquet was tied just above the leg wound. Another, darker brown liquid was forced down Kosai's throat and the remainder was poured over the already bloody bandages.

"Quick, bring me his horse," the guard said to one of the drivers. The horse was brought, and the guard lifted him over his shoulder, mounted the horse, and carefully sat Kosai in front of him on the saddle.

"Now only four?" the lead caravan driver exclaimed.

"These four will aid you well. I doubt that you will have any trouble," the guard said. "If there is a beast that can injure this man, I would assume locals would steer clear of it. My advice is to follow the storm if you can. Travel well." He kicked the horse and rode off towards Noiknaer.

Once at Noiknaer, blood oozed through the bandages and shirt. Silence was left in the wake of the horse as the two raced towards the Barracks. The few people they came across plucked strings from their shirts and tossed them towards the guards as they passed.

Guards and students of the Barracks surrounded the horse on his arrival and carefully lowered Kosai into their arms. The Captain approached the group as they carried Kosai up the stairs. He wore a white shirt, chainmail, black trousers and brown boots. Silver clasps connected his grey cape to the shoulders of his shirt.

"What happened?" he asked. Joren approached the Captain without salute and leaned close to the Captain's ear.

"Captain, I would prefer to explain it in private," the guard whispered. The Captain gave him a stern look and at the same time, signaled for Kosai to be brought inside.

"Take him to the medical wing," the Captain said and motioned for Joren to follow him. The Captain led Joren into the Barracks and a little way past the medical wing.

"Explain yourself in full detail. Leave nothing out," the Captain whispered.

Joren explained the unusual sandstorm that stopped yet continued to turn in front of them. He explained how he followed Kosai into the storm, but lost sight of him shortly after. When the storm cleared, he was bloody.

"The wounds are lindworm bites, but he has killed more than any of us can recall of those beasts," Joren said. The Captain was silent for a moment, staring down at the ground and breathing evenly.

"I understand your willingness to trust Kosai but walking into the storm was foolish! You should have ordered him to stay with the caravan. None the less, what's done is done." The Captain paused and sighed. "The storm itself was unnatural. I will take audience with the Council this afternoon and bring up this issue. You are dismissed."

"Captain, what about the caravan, they are already short two guards."

"You're dismissed," the Captain said shortly. Joren saluted just as shortly and walked away.
CHAPTER 2

Kosai awoke lying face down, elevated, and looking at a white, ceramic-tiled floor. His guard uniform had been removed and he currently wore a white apron that tied tightly up the back. He tried to move his arms and legs but couldn't. He was restrained by a variety of straps. Large ones lay flat and tight against the small of his back while thinner ones secured his arms and legs. He attempted to move his head but quickly gave up when the overly sized cushions and dual straps that kept his head in place didn't move. Kosai grunted and jerked in frustration.

There was a metal 'pang' and 'click'. Kosai rotated slowly upward in the bed. A man grunted at Kosai's right. There was a second 'pang' and 'click'. Kosai, still strapped to the bed, was upright and rocked slightly for a few brief moments before being completely immobile again. The man that had brought Kosai upright walked in front of him.

"Captain," Kosai said quietly. He jerked his arm, attempting to habitually salute him.

"Kosai, don't move too much. Your back is broken in three places, as well as a few ribs. You have severe muscle and bone damage to your shoulder and your arm is suffering from an infection. The gash in your arm and leg was stitched and wrapped. Now that you are informed of your condition, I want you to relate to me what happened. Leave no detail out."

Kosai told the Captain of the strange sandstorm that stood still and swirled in front of him like a moving wall. He explained the lizards and the hooded figure, and how he had struck out at the hooded figure, only to see his blade pass through him as if he were a dark, dense mist. As Kosai told about the hooded figure, the Captain moved to Kosai's side. The Captain grew pale at the story and his hands started to shake slightly.

"When you fought the hooded figure, was it like attacking a ghost? Were his movements natural?"

"Yes, it was almost like he was real, but in other ways, not. But there was one other strange thing about him, or whatever it was. It had a vial, filled with a black liquid, attached to a leather cord that was wrapped around his left hand. After he walked away into the storm, I fought off the other lizard, passed out and woke up here."

Kosai grimaced and shivered as sudden throbs of pain swelled and receded in his shoulder. The Captain stood silent and gripped Kosai's right arm firmly, stilling the pain induced tremors.

"The pain is good for you, it will make you stronger," the Captain said. A white handprint, almost as white as the hand that grabbed it, appeared and quickly faded as the Captain released his grip and turned to the cabinets. "How are you reacting to the encounter mentally?" he asked.

Each medical room had a wash basin on top of tan cement table. Above and below the table were cabinets filled with gauze pads, wraps, bottles filled with medication in liquid and pill form & other medical supplies. The Captain looked through the cabinets and pulled out a pad of gauze, a roll of white cloth and a glass bottle of burgundy liquid.

"Mentally, I don't want to believe it. I stabbed him once and my sword went right through him."

The Captain fumbled with the glass bottle, tried to catch it twice, and missed both times. The bottle shattered in the basin. Shards and chips of glass mixed with the brown, syrupy liquid. The Captain leaned over the basin and stared into his own dim reflection.

"Right through him," the Captain said almost in a whisper.

"Yes. Maybe I am twisting the memories, maybe it didn't happen. Maybe the figure didn't really exist, and my mind just made a story to deal with the trauma. It was so unreal. Captain, if I may ask, what are your thoughts?"

"I think what you said is true." The Captain pulled another bottle from the cabinet, uncorked the bottle of brown liquid and poured it onto the gauze. He removed one of the blood-soaked bandages on Kosai's shoulder and applied the fresh gauze to the open wound. Kosai cringed. The Captain then gently wrapped the white cloth around his son's shoulder. "Your wounds testify to the honesty of your story." The Captain padded the blood that slowly seeped through the bandage with a cloth and wrapped the shoulder again. "In the past, I have had no reason to doubt the orders of the Council. Countless times their orders have saved my men and protected caravans. But now, with the daily ambushes, and you, wounded and strapped to a table with your broken back, the hooded figure..." The Captain stood still and stared blankly at Kosai's shoulder.

"What are you saying Captain?"

"I'm saying things are not matching up. The Council is responsible for the caravan routes, assigning who guards the caravans, and how many guards to be on the escort. As of late, numbers required to escort the caravans has been dwindling. It would be no surprise to me that ambushes would occur more frequently, but they occur daily!

"It is either that the caravans have always been watched by nomads and the number of guards dissuaded them attacking, or the trade routes are being compromised to the tribes. This hooded figure, the lack of men ordered to protect the caravan, the sandstorm, it seems to point to a set up. My gut twists and turns at the thought that someone within the council, slimy as they are, would betray us."

"Then a council member is behind the ambush," Kosai said softly.

"It is a thought, and only that. Perhaps it is a slight suspicion. Perhaps someone is betraying the routes. This is not the first time I have seen one of my guards on a table as you are. The most I could do without being seen as a fanatic is express my frustration and attempt to persuade them to trust my judgment in the future. Perhaps my anger will draw out some additional information. I want to know their reasons for sending so few men." The Captain put the roll of white cloth and empty vile back into the cupboard, and then rotated Kosai so that he lay upright. "Continue to rest. I will return in a while with news."

"Father, there was one other thing," Kosai said. At the word 'father', the countenance of the Captain changed. His eyes softened and he leaned over Kosai, stroking his sons black hair. He was no longer the stern leader of the Barracks, but a concerned parent.

"What is it?" he said softly.

"Today, I... I felt fear. I was close to death, I think. Your training helped keep me alive." The Captain smiled in response. "But when I was coming back from the caravan, I couldn't stop thinking about her. I will be a part of the Guard next year and I think it's time I knew who she was."

At the word 'her' the kind emotional father was gone. The Captain stood up straight and retracted his hand.

"I have told you many times. That woman is best left alone and forgotten. She doesn't matter anymore."

"But she matters to me," Kosai said weakly. "You haven't told me anything about her. What was her name, her hair color, what did she do, what was she like?"

"Kosai!" the Captain barked, and then calmed himself. "I will have no more of it. As your father, I ask you not to bring her up again and to forget all desires to know more about her. As your commanding officer, I am ordering you to never bring her up again in my presence."

"Yes sir," Kosai said.

"Good," the Captain said as bent over and kissed Kosai on the forehead. When the Captain exited the room, another student of the Barracks stood at attention next to the door. The student turned to the Captain and saluted.

"How is he, Captain?" the student asked without being addressed. He was Kosai's best friend in the Barracks, taller and a year older. He was lean and muscular for a seventeen-year-old, showing a two-day old beard. Tears were growing in his eyes. His name was Ulryck.

"He is in bad shape, but he will survive. How long have you been standing there? What all did you hear?"

"I heard enough to know that something unnatural occurred during the escort and about your suspicion."

"Tell no one what you have heard. When the others return from the escort, I will give them the same order. As far as anyone is concerned, Kosai was caught in a swarm of lindworms during a sandstorm. Keep guard here and make sure that no one sees him. He needs his rest."

"Yes sir." Ulryck said as he saluted. The Captain returned the salute and went to the horse stables just outside the Barracks. The stable boy, Emmer, came to the door and stood straight and puffed his chest out as far as he could. He was only twelve and had a way for soothing sore horses after a hard run.

"Boy, fetch me a fast horse and be quick about it," the Captain commanded.

"Yes sir," Emmer said. He ran into the stable and returned shortly with a paint filly. Her left hind quarter, right side, and neck had a brown patch, trimmed with grey and black. Patches of fine gray hair smudged over her coat. She was fitted with a black saddle.

"She may not be elegant, but she is the fastest," Emmer said. The Captain swung onto the horse and kicked her sides.

The filly trotted down Outer Road. After a few minutes, the Captain coaxed the horse to a faster run. Her hooves beat the ground like a heavy drum. It was a route less traveled by the commoners, which gave the filly ample time to get set into a rhythm.

Further down the road, a group of men were pushing carts with the Three Brother's mark on the side. A syndicate member pompously led the crew. He was a tall, slender man with dark skin. He held his head high, his eyes almost closed, taking too long of a stride and his left arm held precisely out to the side, holding the excess of his red robe. The carts conveniently took up most of the road, leaving only enough space for a person to walk on either side. The cart pullers looked up and frantically pulled off to the sides as the Captain raced towards them unyieldingly.

"No, no, we do not yield to anyone on the road," the syndicate member said coldly. The Captain, seeing the arrogance of the syndicate member, guided the filly towards the outside and slowed her. The cart pullers pulled their carts away from the Captain and his horse. One raced forward, another tried to move towards the center of the road, and the other stayed straight. The handlebars of the cart that moved towards the center of the road got caught in the spokes of the cart that went straight. Both carts turned on their side. The filly reared up from the commotion, causing a couple other cart pullers to stop in their tracks. More carts tipped over, spilling their contents all over the road. Vibrant painted pots and glass jars filled with fruits preserved in syrups shattered; the viscous goop congealing with loose sand.

"Why didn't you yield to me!" the syndicate member hollered as he counted the broken containers with his finger. "You ruined a whole cart worth of fruit. Do you realize how much that costs?"

"It must be such an inconvenience to you," the Captain sneered, not looking at the syndicate member. The filly moved her feet, and the Captain reined her left and then right, trying to find a path through the mess. The cart pullers tried to gather the goods and clear a space for the Captain as quickly as their frail frames could allow. One of them picked up a broken glass container and placed it back in the cart. He swore and shook his finger, as if he had cut himself, and then began to suck on it. The Captain saw no injury, but that the man simply wanted a taste of the sweet liquid.

"Time, Captain," the syndicate member said, moving to the front of the horse. "The loss of which is the only thing you have inconvenienced me of. I am a member of the Three Brothers. I have more money than I know what to do with. I could even buy that horse right from under your nose." The Captain loosened the reins in his hand and sat tall, still and glared down at the man. The horse also stilled and snorted powerfully.

"Your hand would be cut off before the money purse was placed on the table. Now move commoner!" The syndicate member gasped.

"How dare you call me a commoner," the syndicate member said.

"You are no more than that to me," the Captain said.

The syndicate member placed his hand over his chest and stumbled back, falling into the goopy mess. The cart pullers chuckled to themselves and bowed slightly as the Captain passed by them. The Captain returned the gesture with a nod and tight smile.

He gripped the reigns tightly and turned the horse left at the next main intersection onto South road. The street was riddled with shadows from scaffolding and planks of wood overhead that linked leaning wooden buildings. The entangled structure of wood and rope wobbled in the wind and the settled sand fell onto the Captain. He looked up briefly but could see no one.

This section of the city was called the Tangle. It stretched on and around the southern quarter of the city. Thieves and robbers, and anyone else who didn't want to be found, hid within its ever-changing structures. It had not been mapped because the bridges and buildings were taken down and moved frequently.

The Captain rode the filly through the center of the Tangle, periodically glancing up at the overhanging structures and bridges. On either side of the road, people, old and young, sat in piles of putrid rags. Flies swarmed and landed in the corners of their eyes. Small clay pans were in front of them. Others stood, leaning up against the walls of the Tangle wearing similar sand and grime covered clothing. The people didn't scream or jostle but stared warily at the Captain as he passed.

The Captain looked forward through the haze of the heat. The road opened into the inner-most circle of the city not far ahead. It was a stone-paved circular courtyard with a three-tiered fountain placed in the center. All three tiers were identical in shape but varied in size, the smallest at the top and the largest at the bottom. They were casted from grey cement and slightly concave. The lips were evenly ruffled, giving the cement dishes a flowing look. On the underside of each cement dish, orange, red and pink flowers bloomed. Water continually shot up from the top of the fountain and splashed into the top tier before gently cascading back into the pool. The pool was also circular. A small lip of red stones and cement encompassed it and white tiles were laid in the bottom of the pool. The water drained into a large grated opening next to the base of the fountain.

Homeless, servants, dignitaries, councilmen, merchants, and others came to the fountain to drink the sweet water anyway they could. Some filled buckets, others filled carafes, while the homeless and poor used their hands. It was calm and quiet around the water. No one spoke while at the well, but looked down, watching their vessels fill. To the east was Capitol road. It was lined with the red and white banners of Tessír. The banners were twice as tall as a man and hung from tall metal poles.

The Captain kicked the filly. The horse ran even faster around the fountain and down the road towards the Capitol building. It was a rectangular building with the same red and white banners hanging from the second level. A horse stable was off to the left. As the Captain reached the stable, he dismounted, handed the reins to the stable boy and ran up the stairs.

The marble stairs were cleared of sand hourly by custodians. Two polished grey statues of wolves sat on each side of the stair with two of the Guard standing on either side of the entryway.

They were two of the Captain's most recent graduates, each sweating under the Council Guard uniform. The uniform consisted of knee-length chainmail, with a purple and green vertically stripped vest laid over the top. The black shoes had a curled point at the toe. The metal helmets came down just above the eyebrows and covered the back of the neck with a leather strap that went under the chin. Tessír's banners fluttered down from their halberds. The guards snapped to attention and saluted as the Captain reached the top of the stair. The Captain returned the salute and continued right, towards the Council's Hall.

The floor was white marble with black veins running through the stone. The Captain's footsteps echoed through the open hall. One of the guards, breaking the salute, chased after him. Halfway down was a set of large wooden doors with golden rings. Two more guards stood at the ready, holding halberds in front of them. They saluted the Captain as he approached them. Without slowing, the Captain pushed the doors opened and entered the room, turned and slammed the doors shut.

It was a large rectangular room with two levels. The first level was an open, marble floored room. The second level was filled with one-hundred and fifty chairs, seventy-five on the left and right sides. The front of the second level was for the Head Council and had only a single row of seven tall, mahogany chairs. The backs of the chairs were padded with a purple velvet cushion, with a carved tower on each side of the back of the chair. The chairs were filled with people in black robes with various colored trim on the cuffs and collars. Behind them was a large wooden door which led into another room where they retired as needed to discuss matters amongst themselves.

There was another man who stood off to the side of the council and wore a dark blue cloak. His hands were at his sides. The Captain looked at him briefly. He had a brown goatee and coarse brown hair with strands of grey blending in. He was a small, slender man and did not shuffle or move as the Captain walked to the center of the room.

A full council was in progress, where representatives from the cities Linnouse, Port Rasmú, Anteperil, Jetismore, Ryshta, Varlette and Noiknaer were in attendance. The councilors wore colored robes, reds, blues, purples, greens, and yellows for the city that they were representing.

The head councilman, who sat at the center of the seven chairs in front of the room, was addressing the other representatives when the Captain barged in, but was now silent. As the Captain walked towards the center of the room, he looked up and locked eyes with the head councilman. A hiss of whispers fluttered in the room. On the left side of the room, one representative from Linnouse, wearing the green robes with red trim of his city, stayed focused on the Captain. The Captain noticed this from the corner of his eye and turned to look. As he did, the representative mouthed "I'm sorry," and then nodded. The Captain gave a quick nod in response and then looked back up at head councilman.

"I assume that you are here to collect an early payment for your services and collateral for the happenings this morning," the head councilman said, dressed in his black robe with purple and green trim. Three members of the head council sat on each side of him.

His name was Rodrick. He was a part government since graduating from the school of Politics and Citizenship, first as a clerk and then working his way up through the years until he became head councilman. Not once had the Captain seen him dressed in casual clothing.

When the government caravans first started, he assisted in unloading the caravans, and then afterwards, proceeded to give a speech about how generous and kind he and the representatives were for implementing the program. Shortly after, while unloading a caravan, he insisted that banners be erected on the wagons bearing the standard of Tessír, so that the people knew it was the government that was providing for them. When the caravans started being ambushed, Rodrick retreated to the sanctuary of his government halls. It was repeated in the city that his charitable demeanor was only as good as long as the caravans were successful.

"Was the money worth it?" the Captain asked as he continued to stare at each of the head councilors. A few squirmed in their chairs and shifted their gaze, either looking at some trivial papers on their desk or the backs of their hands. Others sat perfectly still; their faces completely void of emotion. One councilor, a woman, had a slight smile.

"His sacrifice is worth the survival of the citizens," Rodrick said after a long pause.

"I see everyday people starving in the streets, begging for want of bread. Where does the money go? Where is the food?" the Captain roared back.

A councilwoman, the one who sat still with a small smile three seats to Rodrick's left, stood. Her name was Councilor Steran. She was a small, frail woman and she wore a black robe with red and blue trim, the colors of Anteperil. She also wore light blue lipstick and her nails were painted red.

"Food and money are stored here. If we were to share our supplies now, we might not have it for when the need was truly great. You wouldn't want us to be found with naught when we are truly in need, would you?" she asked, her voice rising unnecessarily high at the end of her sentence.

"You're right. It would be a shame if your wine, bread," he paused and looked at the other councilors briefly, "and swine," he said with emphasis, "were to be turned to the people. Tell me, how much of the peoples' work and money have you spent on your own gluttony?"

"Captain!" gasped Councilor Steran, placing a hand on her chest. "I would never abuse my position to get gain." She passed a glance to her fellow councilors. "We all have our needs. But the people, they do not know what they need, and their needs need to be managed. Besides, how many of your niceties have you earned off the sweat of your students?"

"She's quite right you know," Aleal said. She sat on the other side of high council and spoke quickly and clearly. She was from Port Rasmú, showing the interlocking blue and green bands of color on her cuffs and collar. "If we opened the grain stores, they would be emptied and consumed by night fall. We are here to manage their wellbeing, and you Captain, are here to manage their safety. Wouldn't you agree Evaan?"

"Yes, quite," Evaan said. He sat on Steran's left and was a middle-aged man from Linnouse with straight brown hair and thick bristly mustache. He adjusted his yellow and red cuff. "But that's not why you're here, or why any of us are here. Captain, you have interrupted a very important meeting. We will hear your complaints afterwards."

"I disagree, Evaan," Councilor Simmons said slowly and softly in his true tenor voice. He was from Noiknaer. His black hair was combed fiercely and sharply to the left side. "Our meeting today is about the caravans, and the Captain may have some insight that would be... beneficial shall we say, to the cause. Captain, what news do you bring?"

"My son is dying," the Captain said. The representatives gasped. Some, who were focused on the proceedings, frowned, while other bowed their head and tore a loose string from their robes.

"Sons, daughters, mothers, fathers... they are all dying, and frequently," Simmons said in from his chair. "How is your son any different?"

The Captain growled at Simmons, breathed, and then continued.

"It's different because my son sacrificed his life to protect the caravans to feed the people!"

Councilor Simmons held up a hand.

"And that sacrifice we are all grateful for," he said. Steran nodded in agreement.

"But it wouldn't be a sacrifice had I been allowed to send more of my guard, instead of Kosai. That order for him to go with so few others came from this room. If I didn't know any better, I would say that this council was planning on killing him!"

"Captain, you go too far!" Councilor Kevyn said as he stood. It wasn't often when he spoke in council meetings, often giving one- or two-word answers. His belly jiggled and ruffled his robes as he stood, the fabric sticking between rolls of fat. The light from the room shined on his oily, sweaty bald head and thick neck. "Each of us knows the value of your son, and would never purposely endanger his life, or any of the guard for that matter."

"I would almost believe you Kevyn," the Captain said, walking closer to the black robed councilors. "If you spent less time at the brothel house trading food for company, and more time caring for the countless bastards you've sired that are up in the mines. I might believe you. Wasn't it because of those vices that you were excommunicated from the Three Brothers?"

"That has nothing to do with this Captain," Simmons said, shaking his hand. "You have accused us of attempted murder, and I ask you, what proof do you have to back your claim? None! The orders we gave about how many guards to send, we thought would be compensated by Kosai's skill in combat and leadership. We felt, as a council, that this option was the most cost effective. The sandstorm was forecasted by our own school of transportation and logistics, which as you know is instructed by former nomads who have lived in that desert and swore allegiance to us and our cause."

"Then you will trust my judgment in the future," the Captain said.

"Not so," said the last councilor. Nicóla was her name. She wore the yellow and red colors of Linnouse. Each ear was pierced twice. Large golden loops hung from her ears, and above those was a diamond stud. "Though your judgment, if heeded, would have saved your son, we still have more information on the upcoming caravans. We have reports about the weather and tribal movements."

"And lately, you have failed," the Captain said. "It is almost uncommon now to go out and not be attacked by nomadic tribes. I have earned all that I have, and paid for it with blood and tears, not ink and parchment. My Guard understands the desert better than any of you do. If any of the council cared about the people, you would trust my orders."

"Enough," Rodrick said as he held up a hand. "Captain, if you are here to criticize us in our efforts, then you are dismissed." The Captain turned his back without bowing and exited the Council Hall before the Council could see the grimace on his face.

Someone whispered behind him, but he didn't turn to see who spoke. Once outside the council room, Peteir and the two guards that the Captain ran past at the council building entrance ran up to the Captain. They snapped to attention and saluted, then Peteir stepped forward.

"Captain, you cannot enter the council building unless on business," he said. "It's a new policy passed last week."

"That's why you were chasing after me. What about you two?" the Captain asked, pointing to the two guards who stood at the entrance to the meeting hall.

"If a meeting or trial is in session, it is not to be disturbed under any circumstances. We should have asked for documentation for appointments or summons papers."

"Make sure you check next time I arrive. I taught you to be disciplined guards, not creatures of habit."

"Yes sir!" they all said in unison, saluting the Captain.

"Back to your posts," the Captain ordered. The guards saluted and returned back to their posts.

Once outside the meeting hall, the Captain motioned for the stable boy to bring him his horse. Her coat was mildly damp with sweat. Brush marks coated her neck and sides. The Captain walked up to the filly and slowly stroked her nose with the palm of his hand.

"Why the hard run through the city Captain?" the stable boy asked.

"Appearances in places like this are everything. Someone racing through the city on horseback with a look of determination carries more authority with it than any paperwork or official dress."

The Captain placed his foot in the stirrup and was about to mount when someone called him.

"Captain, Captain, wait!"

It was the man who stood with the councilors in the dark blue cloak. The Captain stepped down and turned towards the man.

"Captain, I am Representative Jaiken of the School of the Faye," the man said.

"Conduits wore white, unless I'm mistaken," the Captain said, eyeing the man's clothes. The man removed his cloak and folded it in his arms. He did indeed where the customary white shirt and trousers, with a purple stripe down the side.

"Sir, if I could have a moment of your time."

"What do you want?" the Captain asked as he mounted the filly and took up the reigns.

"Captain, please, it's about your son."

"Leave us for a while," the Captain ordered to the stable boy. The boy walked into the stables and started mucking out the stalls. "What about my son?"

"The figure that attacked your son has killed nomadic tribes in the past for no apparent reason. He does not plunder or trade, just destroys. Children lie dead, next to their mothers. The men of the tribes were... it's too much to say, except they were killed in the most violent of ways. Our Seer saw where he was going to be this morning and arranged a trade to be conducted that would intercept this figure a few days previous. We sent so few along with your prized student because he stood the best chance of survival, and if he failed, the consequences would be... um... minimal."

"What do you mean Kosai stood the best chance for survival? Your decision almost cost my son his life! How is that minimal?" the Captain roared.

"The option of assigning you to this task was brought forward," Jaiken said, "but was decided against. Your loss would be too much for the city to bear. The information that Kosai gained from his brief encounter is vital to our continued survival and the survival of our trade routes. Our Seer told us that if Kosai survived, it would lead to the eventual downfall of this figure."

"What does the council know of this?" the Captain asked.

"Just as much as I have told you now," Jaiken said.

The Captain shook his head and turned the horse down Capitol road. Jaiken ran up and stopped a safe distance in front of the horse.

"Captain, please. His survival means we have a firsthand account of this figure. Tell me Captain, has Kosai spoken to you about what happened to him in the desert?"

"Briefly, and at my request, but I ordered him to speak to no one else of the matter until further notice."

"Good!" Jaiken said and smiled. "If you could come with me, I will take you to meet our instructors. They will be able to give you more information. You can return the horse too; it isn't that far from here."

The Captain dismounted the horse and turned her back to the stables. The boy came out and took the reins.

"Give her another brushing and you'll get a piece of silver," the Captain said to the stable boy. He smiled and returned the horses. "How long is the walk?" he asked Jaiken.

"Across the courtyard, into that domed building," Jaiken said, pointing to the structure. It was a smaller, one story building with five stairs leading to the entrance. The Captain had passed by this building many times but never took any thought of it.

They walked through the pavilion and stopped at the fountain. Both the Captain and Jaiken scooped their hands into the pool to take a quick drink and then walked towards the building. The Captain was looking up at the entrance as he approached the stairs. The building had a dome top with pylons around the perimeter that supported an overhanging roof. It was as brown as the sand and barren as the desert. There were no banners, flags, or windows. It had only one open entrance that was the size of a normal door. Two beggars sat in front of the steps. A metal pan was in front of each of them. Their heads were down, and arms outstretched. Jaiken stretched his arm in front of the Captain to stop him.

"Wait here," Jaiken said. He walked up to the beggar on the right, squatted down next to him and whispered something in his ear. The beggar nodded and gestured for him and the Captain to walk up the stairs.

"What was that about?" the Captain asked.

"I had to tell our guards that you are on an errand to visit the Seer." The Captain looked back over at the beggars.

"Their appearance is extremely deceiving," the Captain said.

"They may look like they are begging with their arms outstretched, but one is actually casting a spell of sorts to dissuade people from entering the building."

"Spells? And so much secrecy... what do you have to hide?"

"You will see in time," Jaiken replied.

Torches lit the inside of the building, giving a gentle but penetrating light. The cement floors were not painted or decorated in any way. The hallway was wide enough for two wagons to pass through and curved in both directions.

"The hall to the right leads to our sleeping quarters, library, garden, teachers' offices, classrooms and conference room. You will see more of those later I would imagine. You are wanted in our arena." Jaiken and the Captain turned left. After twenty paces, the hallway changed into a long, shallow stair that desceended sharply to the right. After the stairs, there was another hallway that opened into a large, domed room.

Like the council room, this room had two levels. The lower level had a dirt floor with a high wall that surrounded it. The second level was filled with rows of chairs. Each chair was carved from a dark brown wood, the backings of which alternated between the two symbols of Tessír, the hammer and anvil and the fist holding two strands of wheat. The top of the backings was slightly rounded, and the seats had a flat salmon colored cushion.

"This is our arena where we test students," Jaiken said. "You will be meeting our Seer here. Ah yes, there he is." A short man in a heavy brown robe that wrinkled and folded over his joints stood in the center of the room was. The robe was wrapped with a triple-coiled rope around his waist and tied in front of him in a thick square knot. He also wore a hemp necklace adorned with a large, polished white bone that looked like an oversized metacarpal.

As they walked towards another set of stairs that led down into the arena, the Captain eyed the chairs and brushed his fingers along them as he walked. "The chairs were gifts from the capital," Jaiken said.

"What for?"

"A continued commitment to serve were the words of the council," Jaiken said.

"And the service we can provide as of late lacks utility, doesn't it, Jaiken? Captain, it's good to see you," the Seer said, chuckling to himself as the Captain and Jaiken stepped into the arena. The Seer favored his left leg as he walked towards the Captain, extending a hand in greeting. His eyebrows were trimmed, gray lines rather than the bushy brow of an aged man. Dark age spots and freckles covered his tan skin and decorated his bald head.

"Likewise," the Captain said shortly, shaking the Seer's hand briefly.

"I know that you are here to relay what Kosai saw in the desert and of the figure that attacked him."

"And to relay my frustration," the Captain shouted. "Kosai came to me, near death, for what? What makes an encounter with this figure worth the life of my son? Your conduits have tried to heal lesser wounds and failed. Tell me! Why him?"

"I have my reasons," the Seer said softly. The trio stood in silence for a moment.

"Jaiken, please tell the others that I will be late. You are dismissed," the Seer said with a small and dismissive wave of his hand. Jaiken bowed and exited through a plain brown door with a brass handle at the back of the arena. When the door closed, the Seer shook his head.

"I apologize for not being able to tell you sooner Captain, but the walls seem to be growing ears as of late. Trust in this school is as thin as parchment." He paused and wiped the back of his neck with his hand. The Captain scowled mildly, keeping his eyes on the Seer. "The orders for the routes always come from me, as well as the number of guards to escort the caravan. You would do well to remember that attacks used to be far and few between. Some days I would plan an entire month and not foresee an attack. Now, there is an attack every journey. I thought of everything except a reduction in the amount of guard sent on the escorts. It was requested of me and I Saw into the future. I Saw the attack from the hooded figure."

"Seer, I did not come here for rationalization, I came here for answers," the Captain said. The Seer sighed.

"Captain, I fear that someone close to me is leaking our trade route orders to a group that may want our government and your Guard to disappear. That is why I asked Jaiken to leave. On top of that, the hooded figure that Kosai encountered is an old enemy of our school with a dark and bloody past."

"Help me understand. How does all this pull together. Tell me Kosai's injuries were worth something."

"First, let me explain one detail. Your son will survive his injuries, and I never intended that he would be in such critical condition as he is now. As to the worth of the experience, that will be determined in our next meeting," the Seer wiped a thin layer of sweat from his forehead. "I would like for you to share what Kosai saw with us then. Before then, you need to know a few things. First, know that the figure that Kosai encountered is known as Vilheim, or depending on who you talk to, he is also called the Dark One. He is an old enemy who killed many of our teachers more violently than any of us could imagine.

"Recently, I was asked to foresee Vilhiem's demise, and I saw your son kill him. The method was peculiar. The two battled first in the desert, and then the city, and then a cave, and then the desert again. The scenery continued to shift and change as they fought. In the end, everything went dark. When the vision returned to me, Kosai stood over Vilheim, holding a sword triumphantly. Only on very rare conditions do I See things that are so unclear. This morning, I sent Kosai on the caravan thinking and hoping that he would destroy him. I suppose he is to encounter him a second time."

"Why is Vilheim a threat? Besides murder, what else do you have against him?"

"I think that answer would be best given in the next meeting," the Seer said, "but that is not what I wanted to talk to you about. I need Kosai to help me expose the one leaking the information about the trade routes. This school will also train him in our ways. In exchange, I will pay Kosai double his average monthly earnings." The Captain remained silent. "We will also be feeding him and providing lodging. I will personally see to his safety." The Captain didn't respond. "I can't afford more than double without it looking suspicious. And I have the perfect cover for him as well that would fit both our school's needs and my own. You would also have access to him if required, as well as to our facilities," the Seer said earnestly.

"You seem quite desperate to have him," the Captain paused, but did not accept the offer. "Do you have a suspect?"

"It could be several individuals," the Seer said. "When I plan a route, I dictate the route, a teacher, named Mearto transcribes it and Jaiken sends it to the Council, which then forwards it to you."

"It is you, Jaiken, Mearto or a member of the Council that is using this information for gain," the Captain said cuttingly.

"Rest assured Captain, I have no reason to do such a thing. I am very young and at the same time very old. A seer's life is much shorter than most," he said as he grabbed his left knee and rubbed it gently.

"I don't understand."

"When a Seer looks into the future, a portion of the Seer's life is taken. I have Seen many caravans, wars, ambushes, storms, and a variety of other things."

"How old are you then? Fifty? Sixty?"

"I am thirty-five," the Seer said softly, "And already I look as if I could be your father." There was a mournful pause. "I cannot stand to see people dying from starvation in the streets while I am dying as I try to save them. I pray to the Faye that the betrayer is found before it is too late for me."

"Do you have any suspects yet?" the Captain asked.

"A while ago, during the evening as I was retiring to my room for the night, I noticed Mearto heading out. She was dressed rather casually, almost as to blend in with the poverty. I didn't think anything of it until the next week when she left a second time. I began to note it in my journal and noticed that it was on the same nights that I planned the caravan routes. It wasn't long after that when the attacks from the nomadic tribes escalated in number. I can't imagine a woman such as her going and talking directly with the nomads. She must have a with connections to the tribes."

"Why would a high member of your school do such a thing?"

"Could be anything and it could be nothing. This is where Kosai comes in. I am going to assign Mearto to train Kosai. She will think that she is training him to defeat Vilheim, and he will learn if Mearto is the one leaking the information and if she is, why. If not her, he may be able to find out who is. What do you say Captain? Will you lend him to me?" The Seer's arms were outstretched. The oily sheen of sweat on his forehead feflected light from the ensconced torches on the walls.

"The money is not what entices me. It is the oath that I took to protect the nation, this city, and its people. The protection of the caravans means the sustainability of the citizens. Kosai will agree to it." The Seer sighed in relief. "However, I will still expect payment at the first of each month. I will also do some digging and see what I can come up with."

"Do you have any idea who she might be leaking this information to?" the Seer asked.

"The Three Brothers syndicate pays well to those who remain loyal to them. They are wealthy, suffer no attacks on their caravans, and have more than they need. The lack of attacks on their caravans makes me think she is telling them, and then they are buying off the nomads as mercenaries to attack the government caravans."

"I will arrange a summons for you to request a few warrants," the Seer said. "But the council enjoys the taxes from the Three Brothers so it will be difficult to persuade them to sign the warrants." The Captain nodded his head slightly.

"Can't you look into her future and see if she is the one betraying the city?" the Captain asked. The Seer chuckled.

"I wish it were that simple. The strain from Seeing a specific individual for an extended period is great, and I don't have the strength to withstand it as I once did. But events such as planned patrols, Seeing a person's death, a child's birth, what an individual's spouse might look like, things that have no specific time restraint are much easier to See. It is much easier to See if an event will happen, rather than when an event happens." The Seer leaned in slightly, biting his bottom lip.

"Then tell me Seer. Can you tell me if Mearto will share the caravan routes with someone outside this school and the Council?" the Captain asked slowly.

"Yes, I can. I have been waiting so long to see if someone would ask me that question," the Seer said.

"Then why didn't you See it in the first place?"

"I can only See when I am asked to See. It is one of the many rules for my talent. Even if I wanted to See something on my own, I couldn't. The Faye restrains me from such things."

The Seer smiled and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they were covered in a gray film. "It is early in the morning, just before the sun rises. The moon is a waning crescent. Mearto is standing outside a building. It is not unique. It is a square cement house with one window. The door opens. The light from inside illuminates a sign above the door. The name is hidden but there is an emblem of two golden snakes twirling upward around each other. She and this man sit at a table. He is average height. His face is shrouded by tan cloth. A map is placed on the table. She is telling them of where the caravans will travel. The man nods and gestures to the door." As the Seer finished speaking, the grey film faded from his eyes.

There was a slight change in his appearance. More age spots suddenly dotted his face and neck. The veins in his hands and neck seemed slightly more prominent and a few more wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes. It was as if he had aged a few years in a matter of seconds.

"You've probably discovered why most Seers don't live too long," the Seer said.

"I will lend Kosai to you once he has healed and no sooner," the Captain said firmly. He stretched out a hand, and the Seer took it.

"You have done a great service to this city and its people. Far greater than I think you have realized. Come, let's join the others. They are earnest to hear your report."

They walked up the stairs, down the hallway, past the entrance to the school the Captain came in earlier, and another door on the left. The ceiling looked like the underside of a wooden ship. In the center of the room was a long rectangular table. An iron chandelier hung from the ceiling over the center of the table. Little balls of yellow light hovered where candles should have been in the chandelier. There were fifteen high backed chairs around the table that looked like those found in the Capital Council room. All but two were filled. Jaiken was the first to notice their arrival.

"Ah, Captain, glad to have you with us," he said, gesturing to the two open chairs next to him with an open hand. The Captain and the Seer walked up to the table and sat.

The teacher who sat at the head of the table stood. He was taller than the Captain and broad in the shoulders. He wore a white shirt with laced sleeves. A purple stripe ran down each side of his shirt. He held a long thin staff in his left hand that was decorated with various marks and intricate burns. Any muscular definition was hidden beneath his loose white uniform. He wore a tan cloak and had a short, white. When he stood, the room quieted, and everyone turned their attention towards him.

"Captain, thank you for coming here today. My name is Daius, and I am the principle and head teacher of the School of the Faye. Before this meeting begins, I think it would be appropriate for each of us to introduce ourselves to the Captain. Why don't we start with Theo?" Daius gestured to a man that sat at his left.

Theo explained that his official title was Assistant to the Head Teacher but was more commonly referred to as the Assistant. He was from Anteperil and was average height but thin in the face and hands. The Captain studied him quickly, searching for some characteristic that would make him stand out in a crowd. His nose protruded like a parrot's beak and he spoke with a calm, quiet, deliberate and slow, airy voice.

The next teacher was Viktor from Linnouse. His small blue eyes, nose, and ears, combined with his short, well-kept hair made his face look too large. He spoke succinctly, but those short words carried a tone that carried experience and command.

Xidan was from the country of Caite. Her hair was as black and shiny as a polished obsidian stone. Her natural tan complexion and slanted almond eyes were some signature characteristics of one from Caite, but she spoke without a dialect, as if she was raised in Tessír.

Isaac was from Linnouse. He was a round, overly plump man. The sight of one who was so well fed made the Captain's stomach turn. Supposedly, it was a glandular issue, but even as he introduced himself, he spoke with a mouthful of chewed chicken, freshly bitten from the leg in his hand.

Alkine was from Port Rasmú and was just the opposite of Isaac. He was short, thin, frail, and stuttered when he spoke. He mentioned his passion for books and then sat down.

The Seer was next, but didn't stand, instead gesturing past the Captain to Chaerell. She was from Anteperil and explained that she came from a family of merchants that existed before the Three Brother's. She was a tall woman and was in good physical condition. Her muscles, though small, showed the Captain that she knew the value of work.

Faeris was from Noiknaer, and when he stood, a small tendril of fire licked off from his shoulder, but no one said anything. He spoke of his family and how they had starved to death, even with the assistance from the government caravans.

"I'm telling you this Captain, not for your pity, but for your trust," he said, then sat down and the next teacher stood.

"I am Emalee," she said. She looked at Faeris tenderly. "Faeris is a man full of passion, and dreams of a day without hunger. I think you can appreciate that Captain." The Captain nodded. "I am from Noiknaer as well. My father was a teacher here in this school, and was murdered by Vilheim, as well as my mother." She was a smaller woman, with brown curly hair that went down to her shoulders. When she sat down, she whispered something in Faeris' ear, but the Captain couldn't hear what was said. Faeris nodded and the next teacher stood.

Jacqueline was from Port Rasmú. She was tall and slender woman with long blonde hair and green eyes. She, like Alkine, didn't say much but watched the Captain with a studious eye. The Captain smiled back at her.

The next teacher stood slowly, and with a great deal of effort. The last female teacher who sat at his right helped him stand. The Captain guessed she was Mearto. The teacher introduced himself as Wysen. He was an older man, with scraggly grey hair that flowed from his head to his beard like a tangled ball of white thread.

The last teacher stood, introduced herself as Mearto, and sat back down. She wore a brown robe over a plain green dress. Her braided red hair flowed down to the small of her back. Daius looked at her, shrugged, and then stood.

"On behalf of this school, and the teachers that are present, I wanted to personally thank you for the sacrifice you gave of sending your best student into uncertain danger. Jaiken has informed us that you have a report on his encounter, and with humility, we ask that you give it." When Daius finished speaking, he gestured to the Captain and the Captain stood.

"Kosai is stable for now. It will take an extreme amount of time for him to recover from his wounds. His back has been broken and there is severe muscle damage to his left arm from a lindworm bite. It may take up to two years before he has fully recovered. If it is the will of the Faye, he might be able to keep his arm. His encounter with Vilheim was... odd," the Captain said. He relayed to them Kosai's story in every detail he could remember. He also mentioned that Vilheim carried a vile filled with a black substance. When he finished speaking, he sat down and Mearto stood.

"I believe one thing that still baffles all of us is how Vilheim seems to have gained the ability to be both a specter and material being. Captain, concerning the black vial that was in Vilheim's hand, did Kosai relate anything to you about it?" Mearto sat down when she finished speaking and the Captain stood.

"There was a stream of purple lightening from the black vial when one of his strikes connected with the figure."

"I would venture to argue that this vile has granted him a form of immortality," Daius said as he stood up. "Captain, we must be honest with you. Vilheim has, in previous years, attacked nomadic tribes. These tribes would then blame Tessír and attack the caravans. Then, according to our resources, he disappeared for a time. Kosai survived the attack, but I believe it was by luck. Seer, I believe you have something to add on that effect." He gestured towards the Seer with an open hand. After the Seer stood with some effort, Daius and the Captain sat.

"The Captain has agreed to lend him to us. Simple axe and sword cannot kill Vilheim, nor can rock or arrow. He acts like an apparition, yet he has not died. Kosai is the one I Saw who would defeat Vilheim, and when he attacks again, Kosai must be prepared to use the skills that we teach, and we must begin teaching him as soon as possible." The Seer sat down and Mearto stood.

"And who exactly is going to teach him? He has not shown promise; else we would have taken him. The Awakening could very easily kill him if he is too eager and we would be without one of the more talented guardsman." She stayed standing and gestured to the Seer for him to speak.

"That is why you will teach him," the Seer said calmly. Mearto flushed in frustration and sat down hurriedly. "You are the only other to survive a forced Awakening and you know what to expect." The Seer turned to the Captain. "The Awakening is a necessary process for each student to go through here. For those who are naturally attuned to the Faye, it is quick and painless, but it is very dangerous for those who are not. Rest assured, I saw Kosai kill Vilheim, so he will survive."

"Captain, I thank you for giving us Kosai," Daius said. "I ask that he report to us when he has healed and no sooner." The Captain nodded and looked down at the table. "With that, this meeting is adjourned. I would ask all of you to be on guard and be watchful. Vilheim may strike at any time." The teachers stood and began to walk away from the table.

"Excuse me," the Seer said. "I would think it to be a great disservice if we were to leave without telling the Captain the history of Vilheim and why we need his student."

"You didn't tell him?" Daius asked.

"I mentioned that it would be brought up in this meeting," the Seer said, wiping sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his robe. The Head Teacher shook his head.

"Captain, why then did you agree to it?" the Head Teacher asked.

"If what the Seer saw is true," the Captain said, "and I am under the assumption that it is, then I have nothing to fear. His absence will be a hindrance to the Barracks, but I want to know exactly what Kosai will be getting himself into and why Vilheim is such a threat to you," the Captain said. The Head Teacher looked at the Seer, shook his head and sighed.

"Murder is the only offense that we hold against him," Daius said flatly. "I must clarify that it is not just the offense, but the events surrounding it that worry us. When our school was young, our Head Teacher, named Zenith, decided to trek out into the desert to meditate and cleanse his mind. He returned with a mass of knowledge which greatly advanced our understanding of the world and its energies.

"The grandeur of his return was cut short when he came to our school with his son, intending to burn him on an altar. He even convinced a few of the teachers and students to help him. When the rest of the Teachers caught word of what was happening, they ran to the child's aid. The child had already been placed on the altar and fire set upon him, but somehow, only his clothes and hair had been burned. The child remained unharmed. Somehow, he managed to kill Zenith and a few of his cohorts. Those of us who weren't in league with Zenith took the boy as our own and cursed those who had conspired to kill the child as Nameless.

"He grew through the ranks and became an assistant to the Head Teacher, and then betrayed us. One by one, he secretly killed many of our Teachers. By some strange method, he managed to drain the bodies of their blood. When he was discovered as the murderer, the head teacher, as well as those who were still alive, attempted to curse him as Nameless and then kill him. They failed. The Dark One, as they named him at that time, was impervious to their attacks and did not fight back. He left on his own accord.

"We don't know how your son is going to defeat Vilheim, we just know that he will."

"I see why the Seer was reluctant to tell me," the Captain said, glaring at the Seer.

"Captain, we are asking much from your student," the Seer said. "If there was another way, I would have it. Kosai is our only hope against the Dark One. I ask again, will you lend him to us?"

The Captain nodded.

"Then this meeting is adjourned," Daius said. "Thank you, Captain for your attendance." The Teachers and Jaiken left the table and exited the room. The Seer and the Captain remained seated.

"Captain," the Seer started, "I cannot thank you enough for allowing your son to come study with us. I also hope that his reputation will precede him and he will make quick work of this investigation."

"There is a reason he is called the wolf of the Capital Barracks," the Captain said with a grin.

"Thank you, Captain. I will send Kosai's uniform sometime this evening. I am looking forward to his arrival. You will also be receiving a Council summons to request of a warrant for the Three Brothers."

There was a knock at the door.

"Enter," the Seer said. Jaiken walked in. "Oh, Jaiken, good to see you again. What were your thoughts on the meeting?"

"I think that it's good for everyone to be on the same page. There is an anxious feeling among the Teachers. It is bothersome that we don't know what the Dark One is up to. Should I escort the Captain out?" Jaiken asked.

"No, no, I will do that," he said as he turned to the Captain. "You and your guards are making quite the sacrifice for us." There was soft, determined look in the Seers eyes. His brow was slightly bent, and his hands were still.

"You're welcome," the Captain said softly.

"Jaiken, if you would please, go to the Head Teacher and see if there are any errands that he needs done with the Council. I have nothing else for you today." Jaiken bowed softly and left. The Seer watched the door long after it closed and held up a finger to his mouth, gesturing to the Captain to be silent.

"He makes me nervous," the Seer whispered. "Come, I will show you the way out." The pair walked in silence out of the school and into the pavilion. The two guards continued to chant softly with their metal pans in front of them and their arms outstretched.

People walked down the dusty roads, the sounds of trading and bartering from the market washing over the pavilion like a soft breeze. A seemingly never-ending crowd of commoners filled the street. The breeze carried smells of fruit, harsh spices, salt, meat, sweat and excrement, creating a lingering aroma like a damp, moldy rag. The water from the fountain gurgled and splashed like an unending fit of violent hiccups.

"You are concerned that Jaiken may have heard too much," the Captain said. The Seer nodded.

"It is as I said before. The trust in our school seems to be as thin as parchment. I fear that my words may have placed you and your student in more danger than was already present. Forgive me." The Captain furrowed his brow and looked down at Seer.

"He will suit you well. If he can survive the desert, my training, and being mauled by lindworms, then I think he will be able to survive whatever danger your school may put him in."

The Seer nodded again.

"Thank you again, Captain." The Captain nodded to the Seer, said goodbye and turned out into the city, heading back to the Barracks.

The populace moved out of his way as he walked down the center of the streets. He kept his stern, stoic look as he walked, but his thoughts were turned to more sensitive subjects.

When he reached the Barracks, he went straight into his office and sat in his high-backed chair behind his desk. The chair was like the style that the council had, though not as tall. The desk was made from a heavy, deep red wood. Relieved carved roses and lily flowers decorated the trimmings of the desk. A white and red floor rug with the emblem of Tessír in black was laid in front of the desk, extending to the doorway. Bookshelves filled with books and trophies lined the left wall. Some of the trophies were from the combat competitions of his youth. Others were the fangs from lindworms that he killed. A steel coat rack was to the right of the door. It was as tall as the door and at the top, sprouted into four different hooks.

"All paid with blood," the Captain said. The Captain ran his hand along the desk, feeling the smooth resin polish.

Some years ago, he took a small band of guard and tracked down a group of nomads that captured a carpenter's family. He and his guard rescued the family and killed a few of the nomads, though it was not without a loss. One was killed and a few of his students were put out of commission for a couple months. During the recovery, another student passed away from infection.

The desk was given to him as an anonymous gift, though he knew exactly where it came from. When he confronted the carpenter, the carpenter quickly changed the subject. When pressed, the carpenter denied knowing anything about the matter.

The rug was given after the Captain and a few newer guards who were on patrol stopped a band of thieves from stealing bolts of cloth from a textile and fashion school. The thieves carried short knives. They stabbed and slashed at the Captain, drawing blood on his arms and chest. The Captain did not want to kill the thieves, so he did not draw his sword. He ordered his patrol to incapacitate the thieves, but not to cut them.

After the thieves were beaten and rendered unconscious, they were taken to the gate keeper and sentenced six months of gate duty. When the owner of the school caught word of the deed, he and his students conducted a ceremony to openly thank the Captain with the floor rug.

The coat hanger was given as a gift from Ellene, his sister, when Kosai was delivered to the Barracks as an infant. Raising him was filled with blood and injury. A knock at his door roused the Captain out of his reminiscing.

"Come in," the Captain said. One of the guards entered carrying a wooden box.

"Sir, these just came in for you, two letters and a package."

"Yes, bring me the letters and set the crate next to the coat rack. You're dismissed." The guard set the box down next to the coat rack, handed the two letters to the Captain, saluted, and showed himself out the door. The first letter was folded in fourths while the other was folded in thirds and sealed with a wax impression of Tessír's mark. The Captain unfolded the first letter.

"Captain: here is Kosai's uniform as well as the summons for the warrant. I thank you again for meeting with me and the teachers of our school. Give Kosai my best and I wish him a quick and full recovery.

The Seer"

Satisfied with the Seer's prompt efforts, the Captain went to check on Kosai's recovery.

CHAPTER 3

Kosai groaned as his arm and chest shook and shivered. Cold, damp sweat blanketed his body. He groaned as the pain intensified and grew to a crescendo.

"The pain is good for you, it will make you stronger," a voice said from the corner of the room. The deep tones, though harsh in nature, brought to comfort to his wounds.

"I was unaware that you were here, Captain," Kosai said in a formal fassion through his gritted teeth.

"I have been here since sundown. I take it that you're gaining feeling back in your shoulder; that's good. I told the nurses to hold off on applying any pain blockers to your wound. Do you know why?"

"No sir."

"You need to know how damaged you are. I don't want you to push yourself. The doctors fear that you may never gain full mobility in that arm again." The Captain stood and lit a glass lantern with a sulfur match.

The room erupted with golden light. The Captain turned a dial on the lantern to reduce the intensity of the light. Blood percolated through most of the bandages on Kosai's shoulder and began to ooze onto his skin.

"I don't understand why I'm strapped to this table. That's the worst part of it." As Kosai spoke, the Captain opened the cabinet and pulled out a new bandage, wrap, and a bottle filled with brown liquid. He walked over to the table and undid the leather straps around Kosai's forehead and chest.

"It's to keep you still so you don't hurt yourself. You have a strong spirit, but you should be grateful that you aren't dead. You are fragile right now. A simple fall could push back your recovery for weeks, if not months. That is something we cannot risk." The Captain removed the bandages. Kosai cringed, swore, and clenched his hands into a fist as the bandages rubbed against the open flesh. "The wound looks a lot better than it did the other day."

"Still feels fresh," Kosai said as the Captain began to apply the new bandage. Kosai cringed and moaned again as the sting of the brown liquid shot into his shoulder. The burning sensation sent tingling pricks down his arm, causing him to flex. The Captain wrapped his shoulder and secured the bandage before placing the leather strap back over his chest.

"I visited with the doctors today," the Captain said. "The medicine has helped slow the infection, but it will still take more time to heal. Had you been another day out, you would have died." Kosai winced and groaned as wave of hot searing pain grew in his shoulder. The Captain ran to the cabinet and took a cloth. He tore it in half, rolled up one of the halves and held it up to Kosai's lips.

"Bite. It helps," he said. Kosai took the cloth and clenched until the pain passed. The Captain took the cloth and laid it on the counter. "There are things you can learn from this experience Kosai. When you are healed and back to your usual self, there is an assignment awaiting you."

"Another caravan escort already?" Kosai asked. A memory of the hooded figure flashed in his mind and he blinked hard, removing the image. The Captain smiled and shook his head.

"I will let you know what it is tomorrow when I return from a caravan escort."

"But you haven't done that in years! Isn't that beneath you, sir?"

"It is critical that I go. If anything, it will strengthen the Guard's morale and help the drivers feel at ease. There are a few things I want to look into. Kosai, it's late. Sleep well. I will see you tomorrow."

"Yes sir," Kosai said. The Captain blew out the lantern. The door opened and closed and Kosai was left to himself, strapped to a bed.

Another assignment already? Kosai thought. He had been placed on patrol duty from time to time, but his main assignments consisted of escorting caravans and hunting down aggressive nomadic tribes. And what can I learn from this?

He stared up at the ceiling. The darkness reminded him of the dark figure that attacked him. He closed his eyes to shut out the figure, and then opened them again, embracing the memory. The pain in his leg surged again, but he used that to help him remember; to help him see the dark figure. With every heartbeat, throbs of pain pulsed in his back, reminding him of the club, the vial and the peering amber eyes.

CHAPTER 4

The next morning, as the sun was beginning to rise, another government caravan was preparing to head north. The caravan was to follow a similar route as the one Kosai took when he was attacked. When the Captain walked out of the Barracks towards the caravan, the suon were tethered to their wagons and the caravan drivers were double checking their cargo.

Tavely, one of his lieutenants, finished his discussion with the lead caravan driver, turned to the Captain, stood at attention, and saluted. A spear was lashed to a steel round shield which he carried on his back. The emblem of Tessír was engraved on the shining metal. Tavely was a short, thin man who always carried a clipboard. His mental ability for strategy, organization and efficiency earned him the rank of lieutenant.

"What is the report?" the Captain asked, returning the salute.

"The caravan is prepared and ready. A few guards are on edge about the route and the caravan drivers are uneasy," Tavely said. The Captain looked over his left shoulder, passed the open city gate and into the desert.

"They have good reason to be," the Captain said softly, thinking of his conversation with the Seer. The routes were being compromised and there would be an attack on the caravan, the Captain was sure of it. But that wasn't the reason he was accompanying the caravan. "I am aiding on this escort. Let the lead caravan driver know, as well as the other guards. Don't make the announcement too formal. We are not riding to battle."

"Yes sir," Lieutenant Tavely said. He saluted and turned back to the caravan. The Captain looked over his other seven guards that stood around the caravan. Sweat poured down from beneath their helms. Their swords were sheathed, but each held a spear with a point as broad as a hand in one hand and carried their shields in the other. The spear points glistened above the guards in the too hot morning.

"Lieutenant," the Captain called. The lieutenant hustled over and stood at attention. "Why are the guards carrying spears?"

"Ah, yes sir. It was in the orders. Six guards with spear and sword were to escort this caravan. There was no word given however on you coming along."

The Captain stared at the ground for a moment and then walked away from the Caravan. Tavely followed close by.

"If word got out that we are carrying sword and spear, and you were to attack the caravan, what would you do?" the Captain asked.

"I would do so by arrows and wait for the caravan to pass by when they were at a disadvantage," Tavely said, "especially if the caravan was pinned against a dune, there would be minimal chance of escape. Archers, arrows and bows are costly, not including the years and resources it takes to train a group to be proficient. If archers were to attack, they are certain to be of some skill. Will that be all sir?" Lieutenant Tavely stood at attention.

"No. Hand over your spear," the Captain commanded. Tavely did so. The Captain took the spear and pointed it at another guard. He recognized the guard as one that graduated a few years ago. "Raemon, toss me your spear." The guard did so and the Captain caught it in his free hand and tucked both spears under his arm. "Caravan driver, have you any rope?" The driver nodded. "Bring me the longest cord you have."

The caravan driver looked at him curiously, shrugged and then disappeared into the wagon. After a moment, he reappeared with a cord of rope that was wrapped loosely around his shoulder. He climbed down from the wagon and handed the rope over. It was heavy in the Captain's hand and he grunted softly as he packed it onto his shoulder. He tied each end to both of his spears.

He looked at the gate and its open cement doors. A three-foot-tall sand dune was next to the gate. The Captain stuck one spear in the ground and took two steps towards the sand dune. He leaned back, holding the spear in a throwing position and then threw it. The spear spiraled in the air and raced towards the dune, landing halfway up the mound. The crater that was formed quickly filled with sand from above. The Captain grinned and looked to another soldier who was carrying a spear.

"Guard, your spear," the Captain ordered. The soldier nodded and tossed his spear to the Captain. He embedded it next to the other spear and rope at a forty-five-degree angle towards him. He then pulled the other spear with the rope tied to it out of the ground and launched it at the sand dune with a little more effort than the first. The rope hissed around the wooden shaft of the embedded spear. The spear in the dune came free, pulling with it a spray of sand. While the launched spear came closer to its target, the embedded spear came free and bounced on the ground towardsthe Captain. As the launched spear hit the middle of the sand dune, the top of the dune came free and slid over the spear. The Captain tugged on the rope and pulled the spear free and at the same time, wrapped the cord around his arm until the spear was again in his hand. After grabbing the other two spears, he handed them over to the Caravan driver.

"Keep these close to you," he whispered. "I think I may need them again." The caravan driver took the weapons and disappeared into his wagon.

"Tavely, do you have a map of our route this morning?" The lieutenant took out a sheet of parchment from his clipboard and laid it on top of the stack of papers.

"Our route will be taking us past the Red Dunes and then out into the valley," the lieutenant said, tracing the map with his finger. "From what the driver says, the winds should be moving south by southeast, creating a type of curved wall of sand in these areas. Those will be on our west side with a possible sandstorm growing to the east. It should pass just next to us."

The Captain looked over the map and pointed at the dunes the caravan was to pass.

"This spot here would be perfect for an ambush," the Captain said. "The nomads could hide among the shadows in the dunes, sending a single scout to hail them when the caravan passed by. The nomads would have the high ground here, while the caravan was pinned against a sandstorm."

"Captain, I might add that the guards are also fearful of the storm, considering what happened to Kosai."

"That is part of why I am coming" the Captain said softly. "These men need their courage refilled." The lead caravan driver stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. He then swung his hand above his head and whipped the reigns. The suon grunted and hissed as they slowly pulled the wagons into motion.

The heat was dry and draining. Sweat crusted in the necklines and armpits of each uniform, making each movement burn and scratch. The suon grunted and hissed as they pulled their heavy loads. Each half hour, the caravan stopped to drink. The journey was slow. The guards marched with a practiced discipline, even though salt and metal rubbed against their skin. The irritation of sand, salt, sweat and heat grew on the Captain as well with a feverish annoyance.

The caravan slowed and stopped for a water break as they passed the first dune of hundreds, each sixty-feet tall or more. It would be many hours left before the caravan was clear of danger.

The Captain was the last to receive water before the caravan started again. He looked back often, watching the horizon melt behind him as the caravan followed the curved trail around the edge of the endless dunes. Dune after dune passed by on the left side and the wind from the open desert continued to push wave after wave of drying heat.

Sweat flooded the Captain's face and then quickly hardened around his lips and at the corners of his eyes. A small ripple of sand slid down the side of a dune. The Captain turned sharply, looking at the top of the massive mountain of sand.

"Hold!" the Captain shouted as he raised a fist into the air. The caravan stopped and the lead caravan driver disappeared into the wagon. After a moment, he reappeared with the three spears and rope. He rushed down from the wagon and handed them to the Captain.

"Thank you, driver," the Captain said. "Pull the front half of the caravan forwards a few paces, and have the back half move back the same distance, enough to leave a gap for my men in-between."

The lead caravan driver nodded and whistled a tune, waving both hands in the air, seeming to instruct the drivers of the Captain's orders. The Captain followed the lead wagon until it stopped.

"Now would be a good time to hide," the Captain said sotly to the driver of the wagon.

"I must release my beasts first. If we survive, they will return," the driver said. The Captain nodded and the driver whistled another tune, higher pitched than the last. The drivers jumped down from their wagon and released the lizards from their harnesses. After the suon roamed off into the open desert, the drivers went into their wagons. A large black bird crested above the dune and began to circle above the caravan. The Captain shielded his eyes looked up at it.

"Clever," the Captain whispered. "Shields up!" At the command, the guards took their round metal shields from their backs and held them so that the top of the shield came to the bottom of their eyes. The seven guards and Lieutenant Tavely crouched next to a wagon, looking up at the dune. "Driver, do you have a bow in that wagon?" the Captain asked. There was some rustling and jumbling and it sounded like goods were falling from their shelves. The lead driver reappeared with a sling and bag of smooth flat stones.

"This is all that I have. We are not permitted to carry any serious weapon."

The Captain sighed and set the spears on the ground next to him. He took the sling and loaded a stone. He swung the sling around his head three times and then launched the projectile. As the small stone flew into the air. The bird circled into the path of the stone, and then there was an explosion of feathers. The bird plummeted to the ground three wagons back from the lead caravan driver. One of the guards rushed up to what was left of the bird.

"Covered beak with collar on left talon; trained bird," the guard said flatly. The Captain nodded and looked over at the sand dune. He squatted down and picked up his three spears without moving his eyes from the target. He then walked to the gap in the caravan and stood looking at the dune.

A figure appeared on the top of the dune. Black robes wrapped around his body and legs. He wore a black hood, though his face was not hidden. It was a narrow and long face, with eyes closer together than most. His cheek bones were prominent and could be seen clearly from the bottom of the dune. The nomad glanced down at the caravan, unmoving.

The Captain stabbed the untied spear into the ground behind him and did the same with another spear in front of him. Another nomad, dressed in a similar black garb, appeared on top of the dune, holding a bow with a knocked arrow. The Captain held his spear with the coiled rope behind him. The first nomad waved his arm towards the caravan. More nomads appeared, covering the entire crest of the large dune. The dune spread the width of the gap in the caravan. Each nomad that appeared carried a bow and quiver of arrows.

The Captain took a couple steps forward and held his spear in throwing position and sprinted towards the dune. The nomads knocked their arrows. The Captain threw his spear up at the nomads. It spiraled through the air and landed halfway up the dune, embedding deeply into the sand. The lead nomad reached above his head and pointed a finger at the sky, and then pointed in an arcing motion, towards the Captain. There was an audible chuckle from the desert dwellers as the arrows spiraled through the air, towards the Captain and the rest of the caravan.

The guard moved back towards the caravan lifted their shields to defend against the falling projectiles. The Captain ran backwards and looked up at the sky. He sidestepped and dodged as the first volley of arrows fell. As soon as his hand touched the wooden shaft of the second spear, the first volley ended. He grasped the spear tightly, yanked it from the ground, and charged towards the dune a second time. He roared as he threw the spear.

The first spear came free, leaving a small crater in the dune, and flung back towards the Captain. The rope hissed around the anchored spear and the second spear arched up and fell in the same spot as the first. Half of the spear stuck out of the dune. The Captain caught the first spear his left hand. The nomads drew back their bows, taking aim at the two clusters of wagons a second time.

The Captain took another step forward and launched the spear back at the sand dune. The spear spiraled again through the air. The other flew out of the dune, taking with it a spray of sand. The nomads released their arrows. The guards tucked themselves against the wagons and held their shields up to deflect the projectiles. The arrows pelted the wooden wagons and steel shields like streaks of black hail.

As the Captain ran backwards to the wagons, the crater in the dune filled with sand, and the portion above the crater split like a hardboiled egg. The collapse grew and moved to the top of the dune. The nomads flailed about as the sand gave way beneath them. They rolled down the dune, being tossed and turned in the sand until they slid to a stop at the base of the dune. Twenty nomads stood slowly and coughed up coarse sand. All had lost their bows and soon realized that their arrows were missing. Half of the group weakly drew short sabers from underneath their robes as if the blades were made of lead. The others remained half buried in sand.

Six of the seven guards surrounded the group of nomads while the seventh leaned up against a wagon with an arrow jutting out of his shoulder. One of the caravan drivers and Tavely were tending to him.

"Nomads, here we stand before you," the Captain said. "You are weak and fewer in number. My men will slay you easily. You may take your leave or stay and die."

A nomad who was half buried in the sand was pulled free by his tribesman and stood. He looked around at the others and shook his head. Each sheathed their short sabers and began to pull the other nomads free from the sand. He took a step towards the Captain.

It was the same nomad that first appeared at the top of the dune. Sand covered his clothes, caked his face and the corners of his eyes, causing them to go red. He had a tattoo on the left side of his neck that looked like two black snakes coiling around each other.

"We are no different than you Captain," the nomad said in a deep, even voice. "The cities take our people as slaves. You mine our hills, cut our trees, steal our resources and still your people starve. Yet we thrive here in the desert. How is it then Captain, that we can live?"

"You rob our caravans and you siege our cities! My men fight you in the day and night and you ask me how you live?" the Captain asked. His face reddened with anger. The nomad laughed softly.

"The truth of the capital's doings has not been revealed to you. Search inside your own walls. As mighty as the Capital is, why do people starve? Start there and you will find the true criminals. Until you find them, we will continue to hunt you and your caravans." The nomad turned to walk back into the dunes with the others.

"Nomad!" the Captain called. The nomad stopped and turned. "Who told you we would be here?" The nomad shook his head.

"Look inside your own walls," the Nomad said. He continued to walk with the others. The guards held their spears and shields steady until the group disappeared behind the collapsed dune. One of the guards approached the Captain.

"Why did we let them go sir?" the guard asked.

"We could have killed all of them, but I would still be without information and you all would be weakened." The Captain turned and looked over the flat desert. "About how far are we from the place where Kosai was attacked?"

"Not far sir, maybe a half hour," the guard replied. The Captain nodded, picked up the spears that were buried in the sand and walked over to the lead wagon.

"Driver, the threat has passed. How soon can we be moving again?"

"Soon, Captain," the driver said. He turned back to the open desert, stuck his two small fingers in his mouth and whistled. The Captain covered his ears as the driver blew the note. Without stopping, he raised the pitch of his whistle a full octave and held it there for a time. As the whistle ended, the sound seemed to carry on the wind and out into the desert.

On the horizon, the suon came lumbering back together. Their long black tongues flicked the air as sand slid down their scales. As they came close to the trail, each broke off from the group and lined up in front of their wagons. The drivers attached the harnesses and waited for the lead caravan driver's signal. The lead driver looked back and whistled as he spun his finger above his head. The drivers whipped the reigns and slowly, the caravan continued into the desert.

The Captain stood in one place and watched as each of his guards marched by him with the wagons. The last guard to walk by was Raemon, the one who was injured by an arrow in the upper left part of his chest. The driver that had tended to him seemed to have treated the wound with some skill and care. The bandages were tight and neat, with only a spot of blood leaking through the bandage.

"Guard," the Captain called. The guard stopped, turned towards the Captain and stood at attention. "Are you in much pain?"

"As much as to be expected sir," Raemon said. "The arrow was lodged in the joint. I'll be fine." The Captain walked up to him and placed his hand on his injured shoulder. The guard cringed slightly, obviously fighting to withhold a growl of pain.

"The pain is good for you; it will make you stronger. Learn from this. You have taken an arrow, which I assume is your first." Raemon nodded.

"The pain immobilized me. It was terrible."

"Now you know what it feels like. The arrow is only wood and steel. If you can learn to fight through that pain, there will never be another arrow that can stop you. Tell me that arrow hit you."

"I was backing up towards the wagon and I turned to see where it was. I must have lowered my shield slightly when the arrow struck me. Usually I would use the end of my spear to gauge distance to a wall, but you had requested it from me, so I resorted to my arm."

"That was your mistake, turning away from your enemy. Can you carry a spear?" The Captain handed him his spear. The guard took the spear and fell into a guard position; crouched, shield up so that the rim of the shield was at eye level and the spear in the left hand, pointed outward and resting slightly on the shield.

"Attack position!" the Captain ordered.

The soldier shot up from a crouch and opened his shield slightly to the right. He shifted his spear to an overhand position, as if to throw, his arm began to shake, and the spear fell from his hand. He tucked his arm close to his chest, crouched and covered his upper body with the shield just in time to block the blow. The Captain kicked the shield and the young guard groaned. "Good. You recovered quickly, but you are of no use for this trip. I will take you back to Noiknaer after I see the place where Kosai was attacked." The guard picked up the spear and stood up straight.

The Captain followed the tracks that the wagons made and marched towards the front of the caravan. Raemon stayed at the back of the group. When the Captain reached the lead wagon, the driver looked down at him curiously.

"How is he?" the lead driver asked.

"He is well. One of your drivers is talented as a healer."

"It is part of our curriculum. Healing the wounds of our guardsmen is one of the most important skills a caravan can have. Our lives are only as long as yours."

There was another stop for water shortly after the attack, during which the wagons were looked over. There were a few split boards and holes where the guards took cover, but the wagons themselves could easily be fixed. After the damage was recorded, the caravan continued.

After twenty minutes, the caravan passed the last dune and entered the open desert. The lead driver pointed off to the east.

"About a hundred yards in that direction was where Kosai was attacked Captain." The Captain stared out into the desert. "Not far beyond that was the sandstorm. You will be leaving us now I take it."

"Yes. I also wanted to see what information I could get out of the nomads. You will be in good hands. The guard that was injured will be useless to you. He cannot hold a spear properly. I will be escorting him back."

"And if there is another attack, Captain?"

"Is there another portion of this journey that would easily facilitate an ambush?" The driver pulled a folded piece of paper out from his suit. He unfolded it and examined the route.

"No. We will be able to see them coming long before they see us," the driver said. "But what if we are followed? And why are we given so few guards?"

"I want those answers as well. Travel well," the Captain said.

"Travel well," the driver replied. He set the reigns down for a moment and disappeared into the wagon. When he returned, he had a sling and a flask of water. He handed them over to the Captain. "For your return journey," he said.

"Thank you."

The Captain stepped off the trail and waited until the second wagon passed by and called for his lieutenant.

"Yes sir," the lieutenant said.

"I am placing you in charge of this caravan. I will be taking Raemon back to Noiknaer."

"Yes sir," the lieutenant said with a salute before continuing with his wagon. The Captain waited until the last wagon passed by and called for Raemon. He walked up to the Captain, grimacing with a hand on his shoulder.

"What are you expecting to find out there?"

"Answers," the Captain said shortly. He turned away from the trail and walked out in the direction the lead driver had pointed. Raemon walked a short distance behind him.

After the Captain had walked out about a hundred yards, he stopped and looked around. The desert lay out before them and the caravan evaporated in the distance. The windblown sand brushed against their faces. The Captain frowned and shook his head. Raemon walked up next to him.

"Captain, do you see that?" Raemon said, pointing ahead of them. The Captain looked where the guard was pointing and saw a small reflection of light.

"Yes, I do see it. Good eyes," the Captain said, patting his student on the back. Hurriedly, he walked over to the glistening object. As they came closer to it, the Captain recognized it. It was one of Kosai's swords. The curved blade with a red tint was stabbed in the ground. Black sand dripped from the blade like coagulated blood, forming a pool of black dirt around the sword. The Captain pulled the sword from the ground and looked over the blade. As the sand fell off the blade, it left behind a thin, black stain that stretched the entire length of the blade edge. There were a few nicks in the blade and two sections that were dull. He held the sword out in front of him, the tip pointed at the horizon, and rotated the sword, checking to see if the blade had bent or warped. Seeing no other defects, he placed it into his belt.

Cautiously, the Captain bent over and set his hand on the ground, feeling the tan colored sand that surrounded the black sand. He touched the black sand, but immediately pulled his hand away, shook it and groaned.

"That burned," he said surprised. "The normal, tan colored sand is hot to the touch, but this black sand felt like needles."

"I have never seen sand like that before," Raemon said. The Captain nodded and opened the pouch that the caravan driver had given him. He put the rocks in his pocket, turned the bag inside out and scooped a handful of black sand with the bag. He snarled slightly as excess sand rolled off onto his hand. It left thin black trails of sticky fluid. He quickly wiped his hand on his pants. The black stuff turned into black sand and fell to the ground, red burn marks appearing where the sand had once been.

"What do you think it is?" Raemon said, looking at the sand. "And how was the sword placed like that? It's almost like someone wanted us to find it."

"I'm Not sure," the Captain responded as he tied the pouch to his belt. "But I intend to find out. It seems that this trip has opened more questions than answers. Quick now, let's be back to Noiknaer before sundown."

"Yes sir," the guard said.

CHAPTER 5

The Captain and Raemon returned to Noiknaer in just before sundown. He left Raemon at the Barracks with instructions to admit himself to the medical wing. The wrappings and bandage looked clean enough, but a closer examination could show signs of infection. A field dressing only went so far. With one of Kosai's swords and the pouch of hot black sand attached to his belt, the Captain made his way to the Forge.

The Forge had a close relationship with the Barracks and caravans. Most people who visited the Forge needed small things like hinges and tools. The government caravans needed steel reinforcements for their wagons and special harnesses for the suon.

The students of the Forge learned best from the projects that came from the Barracks. Repairs on weapons, shields, helms and other pieces of armor required both a firm hand and a delicate touch. If a sword needed sharpening, it was pressed against the wheel and moved side to side like a mother gently rocking her child to sleep. If a spear needed a new point, molten steel was cast into a mold and sharpened by hand with a whetstone as if it were a delicate sculpture. Round slabs of steel were heated, hammered, sanded and washed repeatedly until they became shields. The hiss of hot steel in oil and water, the pounding of hammers on metal, the billowing of the fires all combined in one chorus of craftsmanship.

Like many of the other schools in Noiknaer, students came from all around Tessír and the southern countries to learn, but unlike many schools, the Forge had competition. The other blacksmith school in Noiknaer was funded by the Three Brothers syndicate and offered its products and services to the public at a half the cost of the Forge. Even with the higher costs, the Captain always chose the Forge for its reputation of higher quality; that and the fact that the Head Smith was his sister.

She was a short, small-framed woman with short blonde hair. What she lacked in stature she made up for in a ferocious temper and tongue. She had once lashed out at a student for leaving a blade in the heat too long and melting it. The student seemed to shrink with every word that came out of her mouth and never came back after that incident.

"The will of a blacksmith needs to be harder than iron and steel, else the metal will not move under their hammer," she would say the day after a student left, which was quite often. "If you cannot take the lashings of a woman's mouth, you are not worthy to wield the flame of any forge. It takes discipline, focus and a hide thicker than a leather apron to survive here. In the Forge, we temper and purify metals with heat, we pound out the flaws and we drown out imperfections. We do this repeatedly until the metal becomes exactly what we want it to be. I will do the same thing to you. I will burn you, pound you, drown you with my temper and you will become exactly what I intend you to become; the best blacksmiths that anyone has ever seen. Take it or leave it."

The forge was a single-story building with a high-peaked cement roof. A metal chimney crowned the building and plume after plume of black smoke billowed out into the desert air. An awning stretched out from the front of the building. Beneath the awning was a long wooden trading table. Customers would approach the table and purchase an assortment of goods. Buckets of nails, hinges, horseshoes in different varieties, axe heads, hammers, pliers and scissors either hung on the wall or were placed in boxes behind the trading table. Each bucket had a metal plaque above it, labeling the item with a price per pound or a price per each.

A balance scale was bolted into the middle of the table with counterweights next to it. On a busy day, there were four to five students tending to customers, jotting down quotes on custom orders while another, more senior student, ran the balance and took the money. This late in the evening, there was one student left at the forge. His name was Paerek, but everyone called him Paer.

When he first tried to introduce himself, due to his guttural voice and impaired speech, all that anyone understood was Paer. It took a couple years before the Captain could completely understand what he was saying. He was a head and a half taller than the Captain and looked as though he had never seen a decent meal. His arms were the same thickness from wrist to shoulder. He looked up as the Captain approached the counter.

"Hey," Paer said in a slow, rising tone. "Be with you in a second." Paer had a long, thin metal rod in one hand and was cutting it into short sections with a pair of clippers he held in the other. After cutting the rod six times, he set the tools down and stood... very slowly. He placed his hands on his back and arched upward. "What can I do for you, Captain?" The Captain took Kosai's sword out from his belt and laid it on the table.

"I need to speak with Ellene. Is she around?" Paer looked down at the sword, over at the bed of coals, at the Captain and then down at the sword again before he nodded and went through the wooden double-doors into the forge. Each door had a metal disk in its center. A forge hammer engulfed in flames was etched into each disk.

"How many times have I told you Paer," Ellene said fiercely. "No new customers this late at night ... I don't care if it is Councilor Steran! No new customers... Why didn't you say so in the first place?" Ellene came through the doors. Paer was right behind her. When Ellene saw the Captain, she threw her arms around the Captain's neck, squeezing him tightly. The Captain returned the embrace. "Brother it's good to see you. What happened to Kosai? I heard he is in pretty bad shape," she said still hugging him.

"It's good to see you too, sister." They ended their embrace and smiled at each other. "I have two projects for you." The Captain removed his silver four-pronged amulet from his neck and placed it on the table. "I need a replica of this made, minus one prong and I also need a box made for this sword." Ellene picked up the blade and looked at the blood stains and nicks in the metal.

She examined the weapon, cautiously drawing her thumb across the flat, black stained portion of the blade. The Captain straightened his shoulders and leaned forward slightly, staring firmly into Ellen's eyes. Ellene nodded.

"Paer, fetch me a quill, inkwell, paper and my measuring tape please." Paer nodded and went into the forge. "What happened out there?" Ellene whispered.

"Do you remember the night Kosai came into my care? Do you remember what I told you about what happened in the tower?" Ellene nodded and placed her hand on her chest.

"You don't mean..."

"That same figure, came back, and tried to kill Kosai. I remember he told me that he had a need of me and my guard. Yesterday I learned that our routes are planned by the Seer from the School of the Faye. Supposedly, Kosai's encounter with that being was planned and it was Seen that Kosai would be able to kill him, but the school is unsure how."

Ellene held up a finger for silence, and then turned towards the Forge.

"And don't forget the drying sand," she called to Paer, then to the Captain, she whispered in an undertone, "That should buy us more time. Something else is bothering you though, I can see it."

"My gut tells me that there is much more to this, more to this sword, more to everything that has happened, and some voice in my mind tells me that Kosai is at its epicenter. I need to talk to a few more people about the condition of this sword before anything happens to it. The facts surrounding the incident are so fantastic, and there is so much to take in, it will take some time to make sense of it all. Could you do me a favor and keep your ears open and if you hear anything about Kosai, let me know."

"Of course," Ellene said with a somber nod. Just then, Paer came out of the forge with the quill, paper, inkwell, drying sand and measuring tape. After placing the amulet on the paper, she traced it with the quill, and then measured each section on the amulet, marking the widths and lengths of each section. When she finished, she measured the length of the sword and laid the quill on the table, spread the drying sand over the paper, and looked up at the Captain.

"Your order will be ready tomorrow afternoon. Give Kosai our best," Ellene said. She handed the sword back to the Captain, handle first and smiled.

"I will," the Captain replied. He turned back down the street and made his way back to the Barracks.

It was dark when he arrived, and his students were performing their evening duties. Some were sweeping and mopping the floors, others washed windows. There were a few in the training yard organizing the sparring weapons and raking the dirt. The Captain smiled at each of his students as he walked by, and each student seemed to work with more vigor. Satisfied with his students' efforts, he went to Kosai's room. He lit the lamp with a sulfur match and sat in the chair. Kosai lay strapped to his bed with a thin wool blanket draped over him. The strap around his head was removed.

"How was the escort Captain?" Kosai asked groggily.

"We were ambushed. One of our guards was injured but should make a full recovery," the Captain said.

"It's almost a surprise if we aren't attacked," Kosai said shaking his head. "I heard some talk from the nurses. The guard admitted himself this afternoon and the field dressing was rather impressive," Kosai said. He gritted his teeth and groaned. He flexed every muscle in his arms and chest, attempting to block out the pain.

"The pain is good for you," the Captain started.

"I know. It will make me stronger," Kosai said through gritted teeth. The Captain stayed seated in the chair, focused intently on Kosai. When the pain subsided, Kosai took a couple deep breathes and relaxed.

"Sir, you had mentioned on our last visit that you had an assignment for me."

"Yes," the Captain said. He stood and walked over to the bedside. "I may have found the reason why our caravans are attacked, though I'm not sure who is responsible." The Captain turned and stared out of a window into the training grounds. The moonlight cast a white glow on the ground.

"Sir?"

The Captain turned from the window and began to pace around the room, explaining his appointment with the School of the Faye, how the Seer planned all the routes, and how the route information was being compromised. He also explained the history of Vilheim and what Kosai's part was in all of it.

"So, I am to find whoever is leaking the route information and learn how to kill someone that even the most talented teachers failed to do?" Kosai asked. The Captain walked over to his bed and leaned over him.

"Are you sure, absolutely sure that you didn't injure him?" the Captain asked. "Think hard. Remember! What about the gash in your leg? Do you remember how that happened?" Kosai closed his eyes and furrowed his brow.

"I stabbed him in the gut. My blade didn't hurt him. It was like cutting mist. He broke it in half and took the portion that was in him and stabbed my leg with it. I took it out and defended myself. I slashed at his leg and then at his wrist as he brought the club down on me again. I remember! The blade made contact both times. The club fell out of his hand. He grabbed his wrist and the lightening shot out of the vile. Then he disappeared. Captain, I hurt him."

"Yes, Kosai you did," the Captain said. He smiled and sighed. "I think it has been a long since he felt pain."

"When am I supposed to report to this school and what about my work in the Barracks? Will I graduate in a couple months."

"Your assignment begins when you are healed and no sooner. Your mentor at this school is labeled by the Seer as the prime suspect but don't let it blind you; suspect everyone. While you are with this school, I will be investigating the Three Brothers syndicate. You may have seen their members in the city."

"Yes, their caravans were with us the morning I was attacked."

"My theory is that they are buying the information on the government routes and then hiring the nomads to attack the caravans. For now, get your rest, you will need it. I will keep you posted. We will worry about your graduation later."

CHAPTER 6

As the Captain closed the door, another bout of pain ripped through Kosai's body. Kosai clenched his jaw and flexed his arms. When the pain in his back receeded, his shoulder felt like someone jabbed searing metal spike into his wound. Kosai groaned and breathed deeply.

"The pain is good for me, it will make me stronger," Kosai said to himself. After the sharp pain dulled into constant throb, the door opened, but the person didn't sound like any nurse that visited him.

The entrant closed the door and touched the glass of the lantern. The wick sparked and caught flame. Once the lantern was lit, the person walked over to look at Kosai. The silhouette was clearer. It was a woman. She made no sound when she moved. Kosai thought she might be wearing cloth shoes.

Kosai clenched the side of the bed, thinking what he could do. It hurt too much to move. He could scream for help, but if this person was here to kill him, why did she light the lantern?

"Kosai," the woman whispered gently. "Relax. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm a conduit, a healer." She looked at his wounded shoulder. As Kosai breathed through his nose, he caught the smell of the woman; lilac and salt. "It looks bad. Let me help," the woman said. She placed her hands on his shoulder and a green glow radiated from her eyes and hands. The glow penetrated Kosai's shoulder, causing relaxing warmth that soothed and erased the pain.

"Now let's fix your back." The woman clicked a lever on the floor and turned Kosai so that he was facing the ground. There was the same soft glow and the soothing warmth that poured into his back. Kosai let out a moan of relief as the knotted muscles untied themselves.

"Can you heal my leg?" Kosai asked hopefully.

"Of course," the woman replied. She turned Kosai over, and the woman healed his leg in the same fashion.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?" Kosai asked. The healer smiled and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Don't ask too many questions. Answers will come in time," she said. "For now, speak to no one of this visit." Kosai looked her in the eyes, and a silver glow emanated from them. The silver color grew brighter and brighter. Kosai closed his eyes to guard against the light.

When he opened them, he was lying in the bed. A cold sweat covered his body. The straps were undone, and he could move freely. He touched his recently injured shoulder feeling the moist wrappings. Slowly, he rolled his shoulder. There was no pain. He sat up and slowly twisted his upper body from left to right. He checked his leg. He laughed quietly as he took off the bandage, feeling the flakes of dried blood on the cloth. He felt for the wound in his leg but found nothing. It was as if the injury never happened.

[][][]

The next morning, the doctor and nurses were baffled at his sudden recovery. They checked his movement in his arm and leg and asked him to twist his body as he did the night before. The doctor then asked Kosai to walk around the room, which he did joyfully. His legs were slightly stiff, but there was no pain.

"I'd advise you to go out and get some light exercise. A good walk would do you some good. But report back here, strictly for observation purposes." As the doctor spoke, he pulled out the Barracks training clothes from the cabinet; a pair of brown trousers and white shirt.

Eagerly, Kosai put on the trousers, removed the apron and put on the white shirt and walked to the Captain's office. When he arrived at the door, he stood at attention and knocked.

"Enter," the Captain said. As Kosai did so, the Captain looked up from reading a paper at his desk. "Kosai! You're up! What happened? Last night you were covered in blood." Kosai closed the door behind him and walked up to the desk. He promptly told the Captain about the doctor's orders to take it easy. Kosai then sat down in the chair opposite his father and leaned close.

"A healer came last night," Kosai whispered.

"What? That isn't allowed unless I give written approval, which I didn't. The school of the Faye knows that. Students need to learn from their mistakes. I'll make sure that Daius knows about this."

"She told me not to tell anyone, but considering you are my father, I thought you had the right to know." The Captain folded his arms and leaned forward.

"Why do you think she doesn't want your healing known?" the Captain asked slowly.

"Perhaps she wants those who saw my injuries, and those that would catch wind of it, to believe that I am miraculous. If Vilheim found out, it might give him a reason to worry."

"There might be some promise in you yet," the Captain said softly, leaning back in his chair. He paused for a moment and looked at the bookshelf. "How do you feel?"

"I feel fine sir," Kosai said. He rolled his arms and twisted his body.

"If you feel up to it, come to the training ground this afternoon. I'd like to put you through a couple sparring exercises. I'll ask the doctor to be present. The sooner you can get started on your assignment the better. You're excused." Kosai saluted and left the Captain's office.

"I need some fresh air," Kosai said as he began to walk out of the Barracks. Two students were walking down the hall towards him; Ulryck, who was the same age as Kosai, and a recruit. New recruits were always paired with a senior student. This way, the education would be solidified in the older students, and the younger students would have a sense of security that someone was watching over them.

At times, these partnerships would quarrel, but when it came to life and death situations, the bond was stronger than ever. The younger student slowed his pace and went pale as Kosai approached them. The older student stopped walking, seeing that his young companion was disturbed.

"Do you know who that is?" the older student asked in a quiet hiss. The young guardsman shook his head.

"No. I saw him when he arrived. He looked dead."

"That's Kosai, the wolf of the Capital Barracks. You shouldn't be surprised that he has healed so quickly. If he wasn't a student, he could be the Captain's second in command, no doubt."

"A lieutenant, right?" the young student asked.

"Right," Ulryck said. Kosai and Ulryck clasped each other's forearms as they met. Ulryck then stood at attention and the younger student followed suit.

"At ease," Kosai said with a smile. "Ulryck, it's good to see you're showing your new companion around." Kosai looked down to the recruit. "I wouldn't believe all the stories he tells you. What's your name?"

"Deakon sir," the boy said. "How did you heal so quickly?"

"That is the buzz this morning Kosai," Ulryck said. "What happened? No one ever recovers as fast as you did." Kosai stood up and looked at Ulryck.

"Are you and Deakon going to be at the sparring ground this afternoon?" Kosai asked, avoiding the question. The pair nodded. "I will be giving a demonstration then. Concerning my condition," Kosai continued, "let's just say that it looked much worse than it actually was. A few stitches and a day's rest and I am back in action. I wouldn't worry about it."

"But sir," Ulryck leaned in close and whispered into Kosai's ear. "The wound in your leg, and your shoulder; you were unconscious. I saw you when you came in and waited outside your room when you and the Captain spoke."

"I said I wouldn't worry about it," Kosai said firmly. Ulryck slowly nodded.

"I understand. We will see you this afternoon," Ulryck said.

As Kosai walked out of the barracks, students congratulated him on his swift recovery. He gave a wave or nod in appreciation but did not entice a conversation. He wanted to get out of the Barracks. He wanted to breathe new air and see things other than the walls of his medical room.

As Kosai took the first steps outside, he took a deep breath. The sunlight warmed his shoulders and pricked the skin on his tan neck. It was good to finally be out among the people that he protected.

"Kosai sir," the young stable boy said. "Are you in need of a horse this morning?"

"No, not today," Kosai responded. He looked out on the roads, wondering where he should walk to. "Tell me, if you were to go for a walk this afternoon, where would you walk to?"

"If I was you, Kosai, sir," the boy started. He tugged on the Kosai's sleeve and waved his hand for Kosai to come closer. Kosai leaned down so the boy could whisper in his ear. "We stable boys hear quite a bit when the horses come back. For example, I know the doctors said no rough work for you, but if I was you, and if I was itching to do some good, I'd head over to the market, but you didn't hear it from me. It isn't a pretty sight over there." Kosai stood up and padded the boy on the shoulder. As he started off again, the boy yelled to him.

"Kosai, sir," he said. Kosai stopped and turned to the stable boy. "Are you in need of a horse this morning?" Kosai walked back to the stable boy, confused.

"I don't have the money for one right now," Kosai said. The boy shoved one hand into his pocket and grabbed Kosai's hand with the other.

"Open," the boy said. Kosai did so, and the boy placed two silver coins in his palm.

"Kosai, sir, are you in need of a horse this morning?" Tears began to fill in the boy's eyes. "Please," he mouthed. Kosai, now concerned, placed the coins in the boy's hand.

"I am in need," Kosai said. The boy ran into the stables and returned with the same white horse that he rode into the desert. Kosai mounted the animal and looked down at the boy again.

"Not too fast sir. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," he said with a wink. A tear rolled down his face. Kosai nodded and prodded the animal to move forward. He rode the animal at a walk towards Market Street. Long before he arrived, he could hear the voices of the crowd, but it wasn't the common sound of bartering and trading. Today, the market sounded riotous and violent. Kosai quickened the animal to a trot, uncertain of what to expect. Instinctively he reached his hand down to his side for his sword.

"Foolish," he said to himself as he re-gripped the reigns. "Hopefully I won't need it."

Five caravan wagons were lined up in the middle of Market Street, though the flag and mark they bore was not that of Tessír. Two golden snakes, coiling around and facing each other with fangs bare, were painted on the wagons. The same emblem was on the red flags. Armored men with spears surrounded the wagons, though they weren't members of the Guard. People surrounded the wagons, yelled and raised their fists in the air but kept a safe distance away from the guards.

"Make a path!" Kosai ordered. Slowly, and reluctantly, people moved so that he could make his way towards the wagons. It was then that he understood why the people were so upset. A syndicate member stood atop the center wagon, holding a loaf of bread in one hand.

"If you want to eat, you need to pay! I cannot give you this bread without you giving me in return what I need to survive," the man said. He wore a long red robe with gold cuffs and lapels. There was a ruby gemmed gold ring on each of his fingers. Gold loops hung from his ears. His square jaw and dark skin gave him a commanding look. "Twenty pieces for a loaf of bread, thirty for a pound of meat, take it or leave it. No negotiations, no exchanges!"

The crowd began to encroach on the caravans. The man on the wagon waved his hands down to the armored men. They stuck their spears out clumsily. The tips of their spears wobbled and bounced in the air. Not one of the guards stood firmly.

"These men don't know what they're doing," Kosai said to himself as he maneuvered through the crowd and closer to the wagons.

"Starve or pay! If you do not pay, I will take this caravan to other, more grateful cities," the syndicate member said.

"I will pay!" a man said from the crowd. The crowd quieted. "I will pay," the man said again.

"Good, good, yes, see there, a man who knows what this is about. Let him through guards, let him through," the syndicate member said.

Kosai watched as a second path was made in the crowd. He was a man of average size with blonde curly hair and his body showed signs of hard labor. His muscles were well defined, though he slouched as if he carried a great weight. A quiet determination filled his eyes. Kosai had seen that look before, though this was the first time he saw it in a citizen.

Senior members of the Barracks carried that look during battle and pursuit. It was the same look right before a killing stroke was dealt. The Captain was known for that look.

By the time Kosai reached the front of the crowd, the citizen was atop the caravan, looking at the syndicate member. The man held out an empty hand and then pointed down to the guards. The man was yelling at the syndicate member, Kosai could tell from the red face and the bulge in the man's neck, but the crowd grew so loud that Kosai couldn't make out what was said. The syndicate member leaned back; eyes wide with fear. He reached inside his robe, pulled out a dagger, and took a few swipes at the man. The crowd screamed and yelled. The man dodged the syndicate member's attacks well enough but lost his footing and fell onto the walkway that was atop the wagon. The syndicate member placed his foot on the man's chest, pinning the man down and pointed the dagger at the man's throat. The crowd went silent.

"Sheathe your dagger," Kosai yelled. The syndicate member looked at Kosai, fumbled with the dagger for moment, regained his composure, and keeping the dagger pointed at the man, cleared his throat to address Kosai.

"You saw what he did! This man attacked me," the member said.

"I saw you preparing to fall upon this man with that knife," Kosai glared at the syndicate member, holding his gaze as if he were in combat. The blonde-haired man stood and climbed down from the wagon. Kosai looked at him as he walked past. He understood now why the stable boy was so urgent. This man had the same hair and eyes. Kosai assumed it was his father. "Sheathe your knife," Kosai ordered. The syndicate member did so.

"Guards, this young recruit is a disrupter to our business, do away with him," the syndicate member ordered.

"Hold!" Kosai roared. The command rose above the noise of the crowd. He stood tall in his saddle and stared down at the guards. "Release your spears and walk away. You are no more worthy to be considered guards than a flea-bitten cur. Stand down!"

"And what right do you have to command my guards with such arrogance?" the syndicate member said before his guards could react. Kosai looked up at him and dismounted from his horse. As he did so, the syndicate's guards dropped their spears, backed up against the wagon and stood at attention.

"I am Kosai, wolf of the Barracks."

"I know who you are. I also know what happened to you. You are weak. My men could crush you right now. Have at him!" th syndicate member ordered. Kosai stood his ground, glared at the men and clenched his fists, his knuckles popping as he rolled his fingers into his palm. The men didn't move. "Go, attack him, he is threatening our business. Do away with him." The syndicate's guards stood still.

"Your men prove their worth do they not?" Kosai called. "They are afraid. They cannot even follow a simple order." Kosai looked at each of the guards. "None of you have done anything wrong. I am assuming he is paying to you to stand here?"

"Yes sir," one of the men said. "But not with pieces. We are being paid in bread."

"What happened to the government caravan?" Kosai asked.

"We don't know," the man said.

"Do not speak for me!" the syndicate member said. "Your precious caravan was attacked after the Captain left it. They had to retreat to Linnouse."

"How do you know this?" Kosai asked.

"We passed by them, late yesterday evening. They were quite a pitiful site," the syndicate member said shaking his head.

"Twenty pieces for a sorry substitute of bread," Kosai said. "Your bread is nothing more than wheat and oil. It's harder than rocks. Will you not lower your prices?"

"How can we? It is not our decision. If I do not charge this, I will not have this job. I too have to pay for this bread and a substantial portion on what is earned."

"Yet each of your fingers is adorned with gemmed rings, and your clothing is more than necessary. If you did not live so fashionable a style, perhaps you could afford to eat as well." The syndicate looked down and shook his head.

"There are things, Wolf, things that you cannot begin to understand about this city. I am as in much need for bread as any of these people. I cannot," he said.

Kosai shook his head angrily.

"Escort these caravans out of here," Kosai said to the armored men still standing at attention. As the wagons began to move, Kosai turned back to the crowd.

"That man would take you for all that you have," Kosai said to the populous. "And then what would you have for bread tomorrow? Be patient. The Council is doing all that it can to feed you and protect you."

"You can't even bring bread to us!" someone cried from the crowd.

"My children haven't eaten in days," cried a woman. Kosai held his arms up for silence.

"I will take what you have said to the Captain. He is doing everything he can to get to the bottom of this. I and others in the Guard eat the same bread and drink the same water as you. Please, be patient. You and I will survive one day without bread."

"Is there anything you can do to stop the syndicate?" another cried.

"According the law, no. I wish there was enough to feed you. Please, be patient. There will be enough in time." Kosai climbed back onto the horse and headed back towards the Barracks. Individuals gave Kosai a disappointing glare as he rode by them.

When Kosai was back at the Barracks, he nodded to the stable boy. The boy took the reins and held the animal as Kosai dismounted.

"You are your father's son," Kosai said. He rubbed the horse's neck.

"I get that a lot. He said he was going to get bread, no matter what. He said I wouldn't go hungry again. He promised not to breathe another breath until I was fed."

"We are doing all we can to protect our caravans. You will have bread in time." Kosai closed his eyes and shook his head. "I will tell the guard to double its efforts. I will do all that I can to make sure there is a caravan for you tomorrow. I promise."

Kosai was careful not to promise the boy and his family bread but that he would do all he could to ensure the success of the caravans. It would take more than his willpower and skill for a single loaf of bread or measure of wheat to reach the city. Kosai gave a quick, frustrated sigh and then smiled to reassure the boy.

The boy smiled back and took the horse into the stable. Kosai stood and watched the boy work. He led the horse into its stall and brought it a bucket of water. After the horse began to drink, the boy climbed up a ladder that was near the entrance. The boards creaked as he walked in the loft. An armful of hay dropped from the second floor, into the horse's stall. When the boy descended the ladder, Kosai walked up to him.

"Tell me, where does the hay come from?"

"The caravans use it as stuffing for their goods. When they offload, we buy a portion of their hay. It's a good enough amount to make due for the horses."

Kosai nodded and walked into the barracks.

"How is it that our people starve," Kosai said to himself as he walked through the halls, towards the training ground. He stopped and punched the wall. We're not good enough yet. People starve because of us, because of me. I need to be stronger. We need to be stronger. There's only one thing to do, Kosai thought. He took a deep breath, stood up straight and continued walking to the training grounds.

The training grounds were filled with students. A thin cloud of dust stirred at their feet as they practiced kicks, punches, grapples and counterattacks. They didn't hold back. In the Barracks, mistakes were paid for with pain. Their arms and legs were covered with black and blue bruises. Some of students had a cut eyebrow or lip. Kosai stepped into the arena and paced around pairs of sparring students, offering correction on techniques. Lieutenant Nuevon was in front of the group, sparring with Deakon, the young student Kosai met earlier.

Deakon punched, feigned, kicked and punched again, hoping to land a blow, but without success. His strikes looked more like spasmodic jerks rather than trained attacks. He was covered in sweat. Nuevon easily blocked or dodged the attacks with minimal effort. The longer the exercise went on, the more the younger student began to flail and drift away from the basics of combat. In a fit of anger, the young student jumped and attempted to land a kick on the lieutenant's neck.

Nuevon leaned back enough for the kick to pass in front of him, and then thrust his shoulder into the boy's side before he hit the ground. The boy crumpled like a burning leaf in midair. Deakon landed with a thud, tears beginning to grow in his eyes. Nuevon walked over to him and stretched out a hand.

"Leave me alone, I can get up myself," he said. Slowly he pushed himself up from the ground and fell into a firm battle stance, head back, arms out, body turned to one side. His face was blotchy from heat, sweat, and tears. The side of his face was scraped from his fall and blood began to run down his cheek. "Again!" he yelled.

"No," Kosai said. The boy turned and locked eyes with Kosai. "You aren't in the right mind. You are completely dismissing the basics."

"I'm not going to give up!"

"I never said that you did. But you can't continue," Kosai looked up at Nuevon. "Let me teach you something," he said, still addressing the boy. Kosai took off his shirt and handed it to the recruit and walked up to Nuevon. "Let me be your partner. Don't hold back."

"As always," Nuevon said as he fell into an aggressive stance. His arms were bent and in front of him at eye level, hands in loose fists. Kosai took a deep breath, rolled his neck and relaxed his shoulders. His hands rested at his sides.

Nuevon jabbed with his left. Kosai shot his right arm up and out in a circle, blocking the jab and forcing Nuevon's left side open. Kosai took a quick step forward and landed a strike below Nuevon's left eye. The lieutenant stumbled back for a moment, but before he could regain his footing, Kosai was on him again.

Kosai struck out with the heel of his hand, landing another blow to the jaw of the lieutenant. Then, as the lieutenant stumbled, Kosai grabbed the back of his head, and struck a knee into his solar plexus. Nuevon wheezed, but the wheeze was cut short. Kosai wrapped his arm around Nuevon's neck, tucked his head under his arm and fell backwards, smashing Nuevon's head into the ground.

Kosai pulled himself out from underneath the massive lieutenant. The other guards applauded him as he stood. Nuevon groaned and stirred, and slowly stood. Kosai grabbed his arms and helped him stand.

"Once you find an opening, a weak spot, anything, you push and push on it until your opponent is defeated; flailing about gets you nowhere," Kosai said to the young guardsman.

"Kosai," the lieutenant said. "I congratulate you on your quick recovery."

"Thank you, sir," Kosai responded.

"Buy why did you spar so hard? You have taken me down before, but never like that," Nuevon said. Kosai growled and shook his head.

"Why? We aren't good enough," Kosai said angrily. "Today people will go hungry because we cannot protect our caravans. We need to step up the training. Every time we fail, someone dies of starvation. We cannot let that happen again!"

"Kosai," Nuevon said softly. "Talented as you are, do not forget your place. I and others share your frustrations. But these students would only learn to cower and run, especially Deakon, if we beat them every day."

"Then motivate them. Tell them to fight hard and never hold back. Tell them that on this ground, they don't need to be afraid of failure," Kosai said.

Nuevon suddenly stood at attention. As Deakon lined up next to the Lieutenant and stood at attention, Kosai turned, facing the entrance to the training grounds and stood at attention as well. The Captain walked down thestairs and onto the dirt. He wore brown trousers and a white shirt, the training clothing of the Barracks. The students and guards smiled. A few doctors, nurses and other students stood, watching the Captain, and occasionally looking at Kosai.

"At ease," the Captain said. The guards on the training ground relaxed their posture slightly and watched as the Captain walked up to Kosai. "I cannot walk five steps in the Barracks without hearing something about you." The Captain turned to Nuevon and cocked his head slightly. "What happened to you?"

"Kosai wanted to spar, to show our recruit here a few things. He took me down almost instantly."

"I see," the Captain said. "Kosai, today's training exercises was to be on the basics of combat. What you did was a full-on attack. Why?"

"Another caravan was attacked and did not arrive earlier this afternoon. People cannot afford the syndicates prices. Every time we fail, someone dies of starvation. I won't let that happen again. We need to step up the training. We need to become stronger."

"I see," the Captain said softly. He paused for a moment and looked down at Deakon and then back up at Kosai. "Do you know what our students would learn if we were to teach by your methods?"

"They would learn to be better guardsman," Kosai said without hesitation. "They wouldn't be afraid of holding back. They would learn from their mistakes."

The Captain shook his head.

"The reason for this training program is to build confidence in our students and in their ability to fight. They understand that when they go out, it could be their last excursion. It is the fear of death that keeps them alive, not their fear of pain."

"It is also that fear of death that immobilizes them and costs them their life and the success of the caravans. Your most famous maxim is that 'the pain is good for you; it will make you stronger.' Why do our students have to learn the pain of near death in the field? Why not here?"

"I would rather have my students fear battle than fear training. If they fear training, they will not learn. Pain is a good teacher, but it is a poor master."

"Then what is your plan for ensuring the success of our caravans?"

"That will be discussed later." The Captain looked over his shoulder at the entrance of the Barracks. More students gathered on the steps; eyes fixed on the Captain. The Captain turned to address the growing audience.

"Most of you have heard about Kosai's condition when he arrived. Most of you have heard of his recovery. But does this surprise you? This is the Wolf of the Capital Barracks! You have seen him today walk the halls, and a few of you have seen him spar on these grounds today. Yet some of you doubt his miraculous recovery." The Captain looked directly at the doctors. "I am here to prove to you that Kosai is as healthy and strong as ever." The Captain turned back to Kosai and stretched his arms across his body. "Kosai, let's try your methods and see how things turn out. Don't hold back." Kosai smiled wildly.

"Same to you, Captain," Kosai said.

Lieutenant Nuevon and the Deakon stepped back, giving the Captain and Kosai room to spar. Kosai stayed still and waited for the Captain to make the first move. He didn't wait long. The Captain shuffled forward and struck out with his right. Kosai took a step back and twisted his position so that the punch passed by his face. Seeing the opportunity, Kosai reached up to grab the Captain's arm, but missed. The Captain had his left hand up by Kosai's shoulder and his right arm was down by his waste.

Kosai got his arms up in front of him just in time. The Captain swung his massive forearm across his body and connected with Kosai's block. Kosai grunted and doubled over as an unseen knee smashed into his gut at the same time.

Stupid, Kosai thought. A second later, the Captain slammed both of his fists on his back. Kosai hit the ground and inhaled a mouthful of dirt. Through the coughing, Kosai managed to roll out of the way and onto his feet before the Captain could stomp his ribs. Kosai couldn't get a firm footing before the Captain was on him again.

The Captain struck downward toward Kosai's collarbone with a fist. Kosai recognized the feint, took a step backwards and rotated his body so that the blow passed by. Kosai grabbed the Captain's wrist, locked his fingers around it, pressed down on the hand and pulled. As the Captain lurched forward, Kosai struck out, attempting to strike the Captain's jaw with the ridge of his hand. The Captain blocked with his left arm and smashed through Kosai's grip with his left fist. As soon as the grip was broken, the Captain feigned an elbow strike. Kosai brought his hands up to protect his face, and the Captain punched Kosai in the stomach.

Kosai leaned forward slightly. The Captain took advantage of the opening out and uppercut Kosai in the jaw. Kosai fell back as the blow connected and everything went black. Kosai woke a few moments later as the Captain was patting him on the cheek. He sat up slowly, coughed, and spat blood on the ground.

"There you go, up now," the Captain said as he grabbed Kosai by the arm and helped him up. "If any of you have doubts about Kosai's health, let him speak freely. I am pleased with your efforts. Carry on," the Captain said. One of the nurses began to whisper something to one of the doctors but was quickly hushed. As the students worked and practiced, the Captain helped Kosai up the stairs, holding one of his arms over his shoulder.

"Captain," one of the doctors started. "We need to move him to the medical wing."

"No," the Captain said flatly. "Kosai is fine. But if you would please bring a basin of water and a cloth to my office, it would be much appreciated."

"Yes Captain," the doctor said. He nodded to one of the nurses who went running ahead of the Captain.

As the Captain and Kosai entered the hall of the Barracks, Kosai stopped walking and stood up straight.

"Captain, I think I can handle it from here," Kosai said. The Captain let go of his arm, stood up straight and faced Kosai.

"Never interrupt my training exercises again. Next time, you will be put back in the medical wing."

"Yes sir. But-"

"There are no buts. The program is set up this way for a reason. We will discuss this more in my office."

The two walked silently back to the Captain's office. A basin of water with a small washcloth was placed by the door. Kosai picked them up and walked into the office. Neither spoke as the Captain gestured for Kosai to sit in a chair across from his desk. The Captain took the cloth that was laid on the edge of the bowl and wiped the dirt and blood away from Kosai's face.

"Kosai," the Captain started as the last smear of blood was cleaned off. "You are a talented fighter and guardsman. Yet you lack one thing. You lack patience and humility. If you thought as you fight, with a strategy in mind and waiting for your enemy to reveal his weakness to you, I would consult with you on more matters. You want problems solved now. You are rash in your thinking. Do you realize that if we trained students as I have trained you, they would fear battle? Yes, they would be cowards. Your plan lacks practical instruction. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," Kosai said with his head bowed.

"I understand that you are frustrated. I am too. That is why I am sending you on an assignment. You need to find out who is leaking the information. Once we find that, then we can attack. If you notice behind you, your cloak has returned from cleaning and repair. I hope it fits you well. And there is a gift there for you too." Kosai turned and noticed steel framed coat rack that was next to the door. The steel twisted upward and sprung out at the top in four directions. Each limb had a hook, and on one of those hooks was Kosai's cloak.

He got up slowly, and walked towards his cloak, wondering if it was ever stained with his own blood. His fingers dangled and tickled the soft grey fabric. The present was in a small wooden crate, wrapped with a twine bow. Kosai pulled on the bow, loosening the string and opened the top of the box. A white tunic with blue stripes down the sides was neatly folded and covered in a little bit of straw. Kosai pulled the tunic over his head pushed his arms through the sleeves.

"It's a good fit, the cuffs are a little big, but it is a good fit," Kosai said. The Captain nodded as he watched him loosen his shoulders in the cool silk. Kosai took the shirt off and was about to put it back, when he noticed a metallic object pushed to the side of the box. He pushed the matching trousers to the side and lifted the object from the box. It was a three-pronged lieutenant's talisman. The two-pronged mark on his mask showed others that he was the senior student while the four-pronged talisman was that of a captain. The cool, polished steel reminded him of his swords, sharp and powerful. His fingers delicately cradled the amulet.

"Try it on, tell me how it feels," the Captain said, smiling gently. Kosai unclasped the chain and put on the gift that Captain had given him.

"Sir, this is such a gift. Why?"

"Kosai, I am promoting you to Second Lieutenant. Many of the guard, and my lieutenants believe that your promotion would happen on your graduation, if not shortly after. No student of the Barracks, senior or otherwise has ever received a promotion to this extent, but it is needed, and you have earned it. Leadership is a skill learned by doing and based on your previous demonstrations of leadership in the field, even among the Guard, you have shown the skills and capabilities to be a lieutenant, save for your brief overreach in command on the training ground. You still have much to learn and this mission will aid you in your development.

"With this promotion also comes a weight that will take some time to get used to. People will treat you, look at you, and talk to you differently than before. When you were the senior student of the Capital Barracks, people respected you because of your fierceness and the fact that you are my son. Now they will respect you because you are a lieutenant. When you give an order, it will be followed promptly. Never do anything that would compromise your integrity as a lieutenant or that would betray the trust of the people."

"Yes sir," Kosai said with a salute.

"Your guard uniform is in a box under your bed. I want you dressed and back here within a quarter of an hour. Make sure to take down you bed. Oh, and one other thing. I Went out to investigate what happened and escorted a caravan that followed the same route as the one you were attacked on," Kosai lowered his head. The Captain pulled out another box from behind his desk. He opened it and inside was one of Kosai's curved blades. "I was only able to find one of your swords." The Captain pulled the blade out of the box and bounced the light off the metal sheath. "You will have no need of this when you are learning with the conduits," he said as he put it back in the box. There was a long silence. "You're dismissed."

"Yes sir." Kosai felt naked and vulnerable without his swords and walked back to his bunk with his arms tightly at his sides.

He cleared off his bunk and placed the bedding in the wooden crate at the foot of the bed. The house keeping staff would be in tomorrow to launder all the uniforms and soiled sheets, replacing them with clean ones. Kosai changed out of his bloodied and dusty training clothes and put those in the crate as well. The front of the white shirt was speckled with his blood. Seeing the red stain, a memory flashed in his mind, of the broken sword blade stabbed through his thigh, and the lindworm bite on his shoulder. Kosai cringed a little and touched his leg, tracing around where the scar should have been.

He shook off the memory and put on his guard uniform. The white shirt was recently cleaned and pressed, and the chainmail was free of sand. Eyelets ran up the calf and hamstring of the brown uniform trousers allowing greaves and cuisses to be laced onto the brown slacks. Lastly, Kosai put on his facemask with the red mark of the senior student of the Barracks, the mask of the wolf.

The Captain stood outside his office, dressed in armor, and his blade strapped to his hip. He held Kosai's cloak and sword under his arm. Kosai stood at attention in front of his father. The Captain circled around Kosai, examining the uniform, scanning the knots, and adjusting his chainmail with sharp tugs so that it sat perfectly even across his shoulders. Content with his son's presentation, he swung the hooded cape around Kosai, tying a square knot across the chest with the strings, and clasping the shoulders of the cloak to his uniform.

"Are you ready?" the Captain asked. Kosai nodded. "Good. Keep the amulet out. To the people, it will look like I am on an errand with one of my lieutenants."

Father and son, Captain and lieutenant, walked out onto the dusty streets towards the school. Kosai recalled his inward criticisms about not being good enough to protect the people, to protect the caravans. He understood now that the future survival of the people, of his city, depended upon this mission's success, upon lieutenant Kosai's success.

CHAPTER 7

People moved to either side of the road as Kosai and the Captain walked down Market Street. The Captain's stern, ragged stare gleamed power, rank, honor. Kosai could only gaze down the road, glancing at the people; their brown, torn, dust covered clothing draped over their frail bodies.

Kosai tried not to breathe in the ripe smell of waste that gathered on the edges of the road. Children ran next to the small streams of refuse, pausing for a moment to watch the Captain and Kosai walk by in their uniforms.

The Captain and Kosai continued through the crowded street. Merchants stood behind their stands, attempting to sell what little wares they could offer. Some sold tools, some plates and dishes, and others cloth and clothes. Kosai looked at each of the tables as he walked by and noticed that today, not one of them sold food of any kind.

As they walked out of Market Street and into the pavilion, the Captain slowed his pace and walked up to the fountain. Crowds of people walked to and from the fountain, filling buckets and barrels with the fresh, clean water. The Captain dipped his hands into the cool water to drink. Kosai did the same.

"Kosai," the Captain said softly. "Place your amulet inside your shirt. I do not want the school to see it... at least not yet." Kosai did as he was told, though he wondered why. "That domed building on the other side of the plaza is where we are headed. When we get there, you need stand back from the stairs while I talk to the two beggars."

When they walked up to the domed building, Kosai did as commanded. The Captain stooped down and whispered to the beggars. Kosai closed his eyes and focused on their words.

"What business brings you here, Captain?" one of the beggars asked.

"My business is with the Teachers and concerning my student..." The Captain's words drifted off as the crowd roared in excitement. Kosai turned and watched as a group of citizens, in tattered clothes, rushed from Capitol road, towards the pavilion.

"You there, what is the commotion about?" Kosai yelled pointing at a boy about twelve years old. The young man turned but did not stop.

"A new shipment just arrived! Fresh fruit and meat straight from the sea! The Three Brothers are auctioning off the goods in Market Street!" he yelled. The Captain clapped his hand on Kosai's shoulder.

"How quickly news travels through our streets," the Captain said.

"But we didn't see anyone from the syndicate on Market Street? How could we have missed it?"

"My guess is that they sent messengers ahead. The caravan probably just entered our gates when we left and entered Market Street as we entered the pavilion."

"At least some of them will be able to eat today, the sell being an auction."

"So instead of charging ridiculous prices, they charge them for all they've got without knowing what they've got. They'll sap every piece of silver from them today." The Captain grunted in frustration. "Let's be going. The teachers are waiting for us inside."

Kosai and the Captain walked up the short stair and into the building. A cold gust of wind brushed over them as their boots clicked on the marble tile floor. One of the beggars walked in with them and escorted them left, down the curved hall. As the three walked down through the stairs, thirteen figures stood in a circle in the arena. The beggar led the Captain and Kosai into the center of the group and then walked back up the stairs. A cold shiver cut down Kosai's back. His stomach turned, he shook with nervousness, breathed a little harder, and slowly raised his hands to eye level, preparing to strike.

"The boy does well Captain," a deep voice said, though Kosai could not tell whom it came from.

"Show me your faces!" Kosai barked.

"Kosai!" the Captain scolded.

"Captain," an old female said, "we thank you for him, for the time promised to us by him. He has shown us that he is somewhat attuned to the Faye. He will do well here. Kosai, we welcome you into our School." Each of the individuals removed the hoods from their faces and smiled.

The old woman was short with tight curly grey hair that surrounded her head like a rain cloud.

"This is our head matron. She will escort you to your room," someone with a deep voice said. Kosai turned to the voice. The man stood behind them and approached the Captain. He was taller than his father and just as muscular. In his left hand, he held a thick wooden staff that was decorated with dozens of brands. "Thank you for your time, Captain, and for your student." The Captain shook the teacher's hand and nodded. All the teachers except the head matron exited the arena. Kosai let out a soft grunt of frustration for not taking a mental picture of each of the teachers. The torches flickered and sizzled for a moment against the marble pillars. As the teachers were leaving, the Captain grabbed Kosai's arm firmly and leaned into his ear.

"Kosai, we have only a few minutes before you are escorted to your room and I am escorted out of the building," he whispered. "I want to give you one more piece of advice. Tell no one of your mission. Learn as much about each teacher as possible. Good luck." Kosai looked up at the Captain and nodded. As a beggar began to walk down the stairs to escort the Captain away, the matron walked up to Kosai.

"Kosai, it's so good to see you finally. We have all been, well, at least most of us have been excited to aid and guide you here in your journey through the School of the Faye." Her voice shook and her head wobbled as she spoke. The beggar stood behind the head matron. "Captain, this fine gentleman will escort you back to the city. We greatly appreciate your time, sacrifice, and service to us." The Captain turned to look at Kosai but didn't say a word. His face spoke enough.

"Kosai, if you would please." The old woman beckoned him up to her side. Kosai closed his eyes and took a deep breath, regaining his composure, but still wary of what was around him. "Let me show you to your room, and then to your instructor," the woman said as she wrapped her thin arm around his.

Together, they slowly walked up the stairs and down the hallway. They stopped at the entrance for a moment for Kosai to give his last goodbye to the Captain. He stood at attention and saluted. The Captain returned the gesture and walked into the pavilion. Once they passed the door, the woman cleared her throat.

"Your arms are so strong son. It's so nice to have someone walk with me. I don't get that opportunity often, with everyone studying and practicing; most of the time I am tending to the laundry, meals, and injuries. Tell me a little about yourself, what do you like to do in your free time?" The woman asked, looking up at Kosai as they continued to walk slowly down the hall.

"I... train," Kosai said.

"That will benefit you here, but don't overdo yourself," the woman said, jabbing her sharp elbow into his ribs with a smile and soft laugh. Shortly after the entrance, there was a wooden door on the left. The hallway widened significantly, looking almost like another room. Smaller chandeliers, like the one in the meeting room, were spaced evenly apart from each other and lit the grand hall with the same glowing globes. The hallway continued down to one end of the school and then turned to the left. "Do you have any questions about our school?"

"Conduits wear similar white uniforms with different colored stripes. Why?"

"It distinguishes skill here in our school. They are all the same uniform, but the stripes change as the wearer increases in their ability. Blue is what new students wear. It provides the most protection, reducing the power of any attack by ninety percent. The green striped robe is the same in that it provides protection, but only reduces the pain by thirty percent. The purple striped robes are what the Teachers and top students wear. Our Head Teacher, Principle Daius, also carries the Teacher's staff. It is passed down from Head Teacher to Head Teacher, carrying with it a portion of knowledge privy only to the Head Teacher. Where is your uniform? I heard it was supposed to be sent to you."

"The Captain is sending it back today."

"All is well then. While I have you for a few more moments, I want to share with you what this school is and what we teach. Our school, the School of the Faye, was founded by Zenith, the second head teacher. Here, we help those that are attuned to the Faye grow their abilities and mold our students into helpful members of society. Most of our students travel north to Varlette, I believe you know it as Last Stand, and try to repair the Seeps by creating Living Earth. They work closely with the graduates from the Barracks in reclaiming the city. Conduits that stay in the cities aid in excavation of minerals and water, and healing." The Matron said the world 'healing' firmly, and slowly, looking at Kosai with a mischievous, understanding grin. "Oh, and look, down the hall there is Mearto, your teacher. Mearto!" she called. She released Kosai's arm and waved down the hall. "Mearto, your student is here. Come, come meet him."

She was a tall, slender woman. Her long red hair was in a triple braid and swayed softly side to side with every step. As she turned her head, white streaks spun and twisted in the blue irises of her eyes, like thin, lofty clouds. To Kosai, she looked to be in her early twenties.

Kosai would be graduating into the Guard within the year and courtship would be the next matter to attend to. No time was given in the Barracks on matters of courtship and women, and Kosai didn't allow himself the time, focusing his attention to training. Kosai stared blankly back into the stormy eyes. Through his teenage years, he was so focused on becoming a stronger, more talented fighter that there wasn't time for any girl or woman. It wasn't as if he didn't take notice to an attractive woman or was kept away from them, it was just that Kosai never took interest in the opposite sex.

Kosai felt vulnerable. Looking at her made him wish that he had at least asked about proper etiquette around women. His heart raced; his eyes stuck on hers. There was something about her that sent pins and needles up and down his spine.

"So, you're the outsider I'm to teach?" Mearto criticized.

"That is no way to talk to your newest pupil," the matron said.

"He has shown no promise, has no ability, and probably can't even snap a flame in his fingers," her attention turned to Kosai. "Can you?" She snapped her fingers, summoning a spark to appear.

"No," Kosai said softly. Blood rushed to his face and his cheeks warmed.

Mearto shook her head and stared at the ground. Kosai couldn't keep his eyes from wandering. The sight of her neck made Kosai's back tingle. As his gaze lowered, the flushing feeling in his cheeks began to grow into his neck and shoulders.

"Kosai!" His eyes jumped from her waist back to her eyes. The warm feeling disappeared as her gentle sky colored eyes changed to a raging, swirling and twisting, thunderstorm.

"Sorry. I don't think it is much appropriate-"

"That's right, it isn't. Thank you for bringing our guest, you may leave us."

"He is going to have a fun time with her," Kosai heard the matron say with a soft chuckle as she turned to walk away.

"Since you enjoy scanning with your eyes, I have your first assignment." As Mearto continued down the hallway, Kosai couldn't help himself as his eyes drifted down her long braid, to the small of her back and to her hips. "And if you keep looking at me like that, I will make you believe that you are a horse for the rest of your life."

Kosai, terrified that she might execute her threat, hurried to her side, turned the corner and continued walking down the hall.

"Down at the end of the hall and on the right, is our mess hall. Halfway down, on the left, in the open the area, are the teachers' quarters. Students can walk in the open area, but are not, under any circumstances, to enter the teachers' rooms. The second door from the last is the laundry services, should your uniform get soiled. At the opposite end of the hall on the west side is your dormitory. There is one bunk and one trunk per student, much like the Barracks. And this is the West Stair." She paused placing her hand on a handrail to a staircase that spiraled up and down. A soft green light floated down from the stairs. Below was complete darkness. "Above us is our patch of Living Earth that we call the Oasis. It is where most of the students meditate and study. The Seer spends most of his time in the Oasis and is available to the students of our school at any time, but I doubt you will have any time to spare for such visits."

As the two walked down the West Stair, Kosai looked up, trying to peer through the green light and catch a glimpse of the Oasis, but as they descended, the light grew dimmer and dimmer until, at the end of the stair, Kosai and Mearto stood in complete darkness. Mearto grabbed a metallic object and snapped her fingers. There was a bright crack of flame, which quickly dimmed as Mearto adjusted the brightness of an oil lantern.

"Lanterns are at the bottom of the stair on your right about three feet off the ground," Mearto said as she grabbed a second lantern and lit it by touching the glass. The wick of the lantern burst in flame. Kosai took it and adjusted the dial so that it let off a comfortable glow. "Follow me."

As he followed Mearto, Kosai looked around at the seemingly never-ending aisles and shelves of books. Each bookcase reached the ceiling and was fitted with a sliding ladder. The walkways were narrow and every way Mearto led Kosai, there were more and more books. Kosai glanced at some of the titles as they walked. Few were on subjects Kosai was familiar with or had studied briefly such as politics, alchemy and history. Most of the books were about subjects he never heard of. He followed his teacher through the labyrinth of books until she stopped just inside one of the alleys.

"Do you want me to read all of these?" Kosai asked, shocked at the number of books and their width.

"No one has ever read all of these books," she said as she scanned the titles, drawing her finger across their spines. "We are always acquiring more. There is an unlimited source of knowledge within these walls, and there is still more to discover both within and without. The section that I want you to read is... this way," Mearto said.

Mearto led Kosai deeper into the library. Books were crammed next to each other filling the entire shelf. Some books seemed to be untouched for years based on the thick film of dust that covered their spines, pages, and shelves. Other books were no more than a stack of pages bound together in leather.

Mearto continued to lead Kosai through the library. Each dust covered book and shelf looked exactly like the last. When Mearto stopped, Kosai hoped that she would stay.

"Here is your first assignment. You are to scan each of the books on that shelf." She pointed to a bookshelf where most of the books' titles were worn or faded. There were eight rows of books that were above the one she was pointing at, two below. The bookshelf she was pointing to had twelve books.

"How do I get out when I am finished?" Kosai asked, hoping that she would return to escort him out of the maze. Mearto grabbed Kosai's lantern and placed it into a holder on the shelf.

"That is your second assignment. If you want to eat or sleep comfortably, you have to get out of here by yourself." With that, Mearto turned and walked away, the light from her lantern growing dimmer with each step.

"Well that shouldn't be too hard," Kosai said to himself. He sighed as he picked up the first book that was on the left side on the shelf. The book had a brown leather covering and the title had been pressed instead of painted. Kosai wiped the dust off the cover. The book was titled "The Faye and Their Workings" and was a much thinner volume than the others, looking to be about one-hundred pages, and had the feel of a journal, rather than an actual book. Kosai glanced at the cover again as he sat down and began to read.

The first five pages were blank, but as he turned the sixth page, the edge of the paper sliced his thumb, drawing a thin line of blood. As he brought his thumb to his lips to suck on the wound, a small drop fell on the page. When he looked at the page again, there was one phrase written with what looked like a quill pen.

The first lesson you must learn about the Faye is patience, so be patient.

Kosai read the words, nodded, and turned the page. The next page was blank, he turned it, and the next page was blank, as well as the next, and one after that. He realized that each page was blank as he quickly thumbed through the pages. When he got to the last page, there was another phrase.

Were you patient?

"What?" Kosai asked in frustration. The words on the page seemed to ask the question a second time, and then more words began to appear in the book.

I told you at the beginning that you had to be patient!

The words that wrote themselves faded and Kosai jumped back, pressing his back against the adjacent bookshelf. The book fell from his lap, closed, and then opened itself to the sixth page.

The first lesson you must learn about the Faye is patience, so be patient.

"Ok, patience, right." Kosai hesitantly picked up the book and waited for more words to appear. "Can... can you hear me?"

Kosai sat silently and watched as the words on the book fade back into the white pages with no evidence of former ink. He crossed his legs, sitting, patiently, on the stone floor. After a few moments, black lettering re-appeared on the white pages.

Your past is written in your blood, and your blood is in my pages. I know you now. I know all the questions you would think of asking, for they, too, are written in your blood. You need not ask me aloud.

The words stayed on the page, and Kosai read them over and over.

How much do you know about me? Kosai thought. Eventually the words faded, and new ones began to appear.

I am the only book you will ever need. My writer wrote me with the ability to absorb information from other books or libraries. I have gained all the information within this library, and better yet, I have only kept what information is useful. Every principle and idea that you would ever need to know is found in my pages but tell no one that you have found me. To others, I look like nothing more than a blank journal. Many have opened me, their blood is in these pages, and I know them. Your blood has been the first to unlock my pages.

"Why mine though?" Kosai looked up from the book as he heard a group of people run down the West Stair. Kosai closed the book, placed it on the shelf and closed his eyes, trying to listen to the exact count in the group. As he closed his eyes, the group split into two. Kosai listened for few seconds longer and figured there were three in one group and two in the other. They were going to try to box him within the aisle. Kosai looked up at the shelves and attempted to climb upwards. But as he began to pull his body up, the wood moaned and cracked slightly. Climbing up to the higher ground for advantage was not an option. The group closed in on him.

Two appeared at his left, three at his right. They were taller boys, each wearing the uniform with a green stripe and holding their own lantern. Tan cloth masks covered the lower part of their faces. Kosai's skin tingled and bumped. He stood with his back to the bookshelf where he found the book. Each boy stretched their open hand towards him, fingers up, palm out, as if telling him to stop. Kosai breathed and his vision darkened, his knees trembled, and he stumbled forward, falling against the other bookcase, knocking a few books off the shelves.

"Not this time," Kosai said. He swung blindly at the group to his left. The boys backed into the open. Kosai reached for one of the boys as they stepped away and caught one by his shirt collar. Kosai reached his left leg across the boy's right side and tripped him. As the boy fell, Kosai swung him into the crook of his elbow, placed his other hand behind the boy's neck and squeezed. The student coughed, spat and squirmed as he struggled to breathe. Kosai tightened his grip. The boy swung the lamp violently at Kosai's head, missed, dropped the lamp, and went limp in Kosai's arms. The other four stood in front of Kosai and closed their hands.

"Not another step, or I kill your friend here. If I hold this grip for another minute, he will die. Take a step closer and all I have to do is lift," Kosai lifted his arms, tilting the boy's head up slightly, "and twist," he started to turn the boy's head slowly and stopped when he felt the pressure of the neck bones resist further movement.

"You won't do it," one of the boys whispered. The words were clear, but the tone and essence of the voice was mutated, like a crackle of fire mixed with words.

"I have killed dozens of men in self-defense, both by the sword and with my hands. Do not force me to do the same here."

"You won't do it," whispered another boy. Kosai squeezed his arms tighter. The blood of the young man in his arms pulsed against his forearms.

"Maybe he will," another boy whispered. The words seemed to come from all around him. Kosai assumed the boy who was backing away from the group was the one who spoke.

"It doesn't matter." Again, the words seemed to come from all around him. A boy lifted his hand and pointed an open palm at Kosai. "I advise you to run out of this room as fast as you can." Kosai assumed the boy who raised his arm was talking. The remaining boys looked at each other but didn't speak. After a moment, the three bolted for the exit. One stopped and turned to look as Kosai began to loosen his grip but disappeared behind a bookshelf.

"You would sacrifice your friend to kill me?" Kosai asked, surprised, still holding unrelenting his grip.

"His life is of little worth to me, compared to what I have to give up." At those words, the boy closed his hands and the lamps went out. Instantly, Kosai thrust the limp body in his arms forward. The limp body hit the attacker. Kosai used the distraction and rushed his opponent. He jumped and kicked forward where he thought his attacker would be. His strike landed in the attacker's gut, but it wasn't as strong of a strike as Kosai would have liked. Kosai could hear the attacker take a few steps back. Kosai rushed his opponent again with another aerial kick. It landed solidly in the masked youth's chest, doubling him over and sending rolling backwards into a main alleyway. Kosai was just able to make out the outline of the book cases and where his assailant lay.

The masked youth stood slowly as Kosai approached. Jagged arcs of lightning sparked around the boy's hands, the bright flashes of light briefly illuminating the area. When the sparks stopped, Kosai was left blind again, his eyes adjusting rapidly to the bright light, but slowly to the sudden darkness.

"Do you think I would approach you in open combat?" the voice said again from every direction. Kosai tried to block out the voice and focus on another sound, but all he could hear was the voice. There was another spark of lightning. Before Kosai could react, the masked youth threw a white orb at him. It struck Kosai in the chest and sent him flying backwards. Kosai's skin burned underneath the chainmail.

Another arc of lightning cracked in the masked youth's hand. Kosai rolled out of the way just in time. His armor and uniform clinked and rattled as he moved and he hoped that the masked youth's senses were not as attuned as his. Kosai dared not move in the dark for fear of being heard. There was another crack of lightning, brighter and bigger than the last, and for the briefest second Kosai saw his assailant. Kosai rolled again just as another blast exploded next to him and rushed a third time. Lightning sparked again, giving Kosai a clear picture of where to land his next blow. The masked youth closed his fist, and started to back pedal, but he was too slow. Kosai sidestepped another electric orb, transferred his weight, and launched into the air.

He twisted, spun his leg around and planted his shin into the boy's skull. At the crack of impact, the boy went down. Kosai didn't hesitate. He rushed to the unconscious attacker, kneeled on his chest and removed the cloth that covered his face.

One of the lanterns flickered back to light and Kosai looked around to ensure he and the two boys were alone. The other boy he had choked was unconscious, in the same position Kosai had left him. The lantern's wick was not completely extinguished when it was put out and re-lit of its own accord. The youth who had shot lightning from his hands was beginning to stir.

Kosai glanced at his uniform. His armor and shirt were blackened from the initial blast and smelled of burnt metal. He then looked at the masked attacker. He was close to Kosai's age and height with an average build of a healthy diet and underutilized muscles. Slight stubble was beginning to form on his upper lip and his face was not that of a young teenager, nor of an adult. The boy groaned as Kosai tapped him on the cheek. After a few more taps, he woke and tried to shuffle away. Kosai forced him to the ground, shoving his forearm into the boy's neck, poised to strike with his fist.

"Who sent you?" Kosai hissed, listening to his surroundings and making sure that the rest of the group was leaving. The other four were already climbing up the stairs.

"It doesn't matter," the boy let out a light chuckle as he spoke. "You were dead the moment you walked in here."

"I could crush your throat and kill you in seconds, and no one would hear your screams," Kosai whispered as he placed his fingertips on the young man's throat between the jugular and Adam's apple and pressed. The boy coughed and grabbed Kosai's hands. He kicked and squirmed, and then Kosai released.

"We heard a rumor that you are going to destroy the school," the boy croaked. His blonde hair was ruffled off to one side. Gasping for air, he stared back at Kosai.

"Who did you hear it from?"

"The Seer," the boy wheezed. Kosai smiled and struck the boy across the jaw. Still kneeling over him, Kosai memorized his face. The boy looked like he was from Linnouse with his blonde hair and blue eyes. There was a small amount of fat under his chin and in his cheeks. A bruise began to form on his face. Kosai nodded in satisfaction, knowing that he could find the boy again, if needed.

"I can't have you following me," Kosai said as he stood up. He grabbed the book that wrote itself, tucked it between his trousers and shirt on his right hip, grabbed both lamps, and ran.

After a while, Kosai reached the West Stair, and blew out the torches, set them on the rack, and then continued his run upward skipping two or three stairs at time. He bumped into Mearto at the entrance to the main level. Each stumbled, trying to catch their balance. Kosai grabbed the rail. Mearto stumbled for a moment and started to fall backwards. Instinctively, Kosai reached an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him. She placed a hand on the rail and the other on the wall opposite. Kosai took a breath and regained his composure, trying not to look in a rush or wearied. As he breathed through his nose, he caught the smell of sea salt and lilac.

"Kosai," Mearto said sharply. "Please remove your hand, I am quite fine now." Kosai blushed and removed his hand, realizing that his hand placement was slightly lower than he desired. "I see you have made it out of the library, and I assume you must be a quick reader to finish your assignment. What is that smell?" Mearto sniffed the air and looked at Kosai's uniform. "What happened to your armor? It looks burnt."

"I um... need to take a break and make a visit to the Seer. You..." he paused. She smelled of lilac and sea salt. Hadn't he smelled that before? Mearto looked at Kosai expectantly for a moment. Kosai was almost overcome by the aroma, hinting at something, something important.

"Kosai, I don't have all day."

"You should go into the library, where you showed me. There is someone there who needs you," Kosai said while slowly walking around Mearto, and further up the West Stair. Mearto nodded and continued to walk into the library.

Kosai calmly walked up the stairs and tried to wipe the black burn residue off his armor. The stairs were made from a black metal and spiraled tightly upward. The handrail was a flat piece of metal that followed the stairs and was supported by twisted cast iron rods. A sweet smell of flowers and honey grew stronger as he walked up the stairs. The wooden door at the top of the stairs had a rounded top and cast iron handle. He hesitated a moment, gathered his composure, and pushed the door open.

Moist air poured over his face, dampening his hair and eyebrows. Moss and luscious green grass covered the ground. Three tiered fountains, a third of the size of the main fountain in the heart of the city, were spread about the Oasis, splashing and spilling clear water throughout the green landscape, creating small streams that carved through the ground like blue snakes. The streams came together in a type of moat that circled around the Oasis. Grass, twigs, and insects floated in the water. Kosai guessed that the Oasis was another spring but couldn't figure out how the water traveled to the top floor. He shook his head, putting away the thought and walked forwards.

Goldenrod yellow, blood red, and fire orange flowers interlaced with ivy covered the surfaces of the fountains. The pedals formed a long bell shape, like a trumpet and were aptly called trumpet flowers. On the perimeter of the oasis was a covered walkway which was supported by large, white, stone pillars. Ivy and other trumpet flowers crawled up the pillars. Pollen bounced in the air, like miniature floating golden orbs. Bushes, small shrubs, and fruit trees were also in the oasis, giving the scenery depth and texture. Small buds of fruit were beginning to grow on the trees. Bees dug deep into the flowers to extract nectar. Kosai looked around and spotted three beehives. Chickens clucked and scratched at the ground, attempting to pick out grubs and beetles with their beaks.

At the center of the Oasis was a reed-woven chair that looked like half an egg opened and stood on end. The Seer sat in the woven chair, legs crossed, hands in his lap, and his eyes closed. Some students walked slowly around the Oasis, others sat within the oasis, meditating. Kosai, seeing that the Seer was alone, took the opportunity and approached him.

"Sir," Kosai whispered. The Seer opened his eyes and smiled at Kosai.

"Kosai, it is good to see you." He laughed to himself again. "Oh, that one never gets old. But I do!" The Seer chuckled again and wiped his eyes. "Tell me, how are you getting along so far?"

"So far," Kosai whispered and paused, "I heard a rumor about me destroying this school. That rumor, I also heard, came from you." The Seer changed instantly. His smile changed to a frown and he leaned forward in his chair.

"I assure you that I know of no such thing or spoke of such thing. Where did you hear this rumor?"

"From a group of boys that just tried to kill me in the library," Kosai said fiercely, though quietly. He took a deep breath and calmed himself.

"That is disconcerting but explains the smell. Are you hurt?" the Seer asked, leaning forward in his chair.

"A little sore, but well enough for the most part," Kosai replied.

"Whoever sent those boys to kill you understands your true purpose for being here. How they could have discovered it, I am not sure." The Seer paused, rose from his chair and placed an arm on Kosai's shoulder. "Kosai, you are the one who will defeat Vilheim. I place my trust in you not only for the future of this school, but also for the future of the people as well." The Seer removed his hand from Kosai's shoulder and was about to walk away, then turned and looked thoughtfully at him. "Who knew you were in the library?"

"Mearto," Kosai said.

"And did this group of boys seem to wander until they found you, or did they come straight for you?" Kosai looked back at the staircase and was silent. "Now, Kosai, we cannot assume too much yet. You need to look into this further."

"Isn't obvious she set me up?"

"It is obvious, but it may not be the truth. Just a little while ago, I was visiting with her about you. She is quite flustered that she must teach one who is so old and so untalented, as she put it. I asked where you were, and she told me where you were in the library. Perhaps it is likely that she has told others. I warned her that it is not wise to leave a student, undisciplined as you are, with so much information. Perhaps Kosai, I should give you the same warning. There are things that you will learn here, that if done without proper preparation, will kill you. Be cautious. It would be a great tragedy to our cause if you were to die."

"Thank you, sir. I will be cautious."

As Kosai left the Oasis and traveled down the stairs, he met Mearto at the main level. She pointed at Kosai.

"You," she said bitterly. "Follow me."

"Yes ma'am," Kosai responded militaristically. He followed Mearto into her office.

The back wall was covered in books. A cot was built into the left wall, its supports made from thick wooden dowels. Canvass was sown tightly across the wooden supports with a pillow at one end and thin, folded blankets at the other. A desk made from a dark red wood was placed towards the back of the room and was covered with more books and papers. The chair behind the desk was like those in the arena and there was a smaller, less ornate wooden chair across from the desk. She slammed the door, pointed at the smaller chair and ordered Kosai to sit as she rounded the desk and sat in her chair. Kosai did so. As Mearto sat, she ran her hands through her hair and across her face and said nothing.

"What's wrong?" Kosai asked.

"Quiet. I need to think for a moment." Mearto barked. She stood up from her chair and paced around the room twice, and then sat back down again. "I sent you down into the library to get you away from me so that I could figure out what to do with you. I can't leave you alone for an hour and trouble has already found you."

"In my defense-"

"Quiet," Mearto interrupted. "I am to teach you how to defeat Vilheim. Now, you must answer me honestly. Exactly what happened while you were in the library?"

Kosai explained how he was reading a book and was learning about patience when the group attacked him. He did not mention anything about the book that wrote itself, or about the rumor that led him to the Seer.

"Take off your armor and your shirt. I want to see your injuries."

Kosai blushed.

"Don't be so immature about it, you have second degree burns most likely under that armor, and they need to be healed."

"The pain is good for me, it makes me stronger."

"Unless it gets infected and is beyond healing. Then you're dead. Stand up if you can and take off your armor and shirt."

"Yes ma'am," Kosai replied. He first removed his cloak, folded it, and placed it on the chair. As he removed his chainmail, he pulled the book from his side and wrapped it in the chain links, concealing it from Mearto and placed it on the cloak. He did the same with his shirt but kept the amulet on.

"Kosai, I was not informed of your promotion. Congratulations," she said dryly, eyeing the three-pronged amulet as she looked over Kosai's body. The cotton shirt was singed through in places and burned in others. Where the shirt burned through, his skin was a pasty-pink color and dark red tendrils of cooked blood weaved away from the injuries. "You have multiple second-degree burns. The caster was of some skill, but it would have taken more than this to kill you. He was over-confident in his ability or was counting on landing a killing stroke." She still spoke in a matter-of-fact tone as she looked over the wounds. She removed the amulet from Kosai's neck and smiled slightly. "Your amulet must have conducted some of the heat. There is an exact imprint of your talisman on your chest."

Kosai looked down and smiled at the burnt imprint of his lieutenant's talisman. The same dark, bloody tendrils curved away from the injury. Mearto gestured for him to turn around. There were a few bruises and more burns. She clapped her hands together and a soft green glow emitted from them. She placed her hands over the wounds, and the green light percolated into Kosai's skin. The dark blood trails vanished; the pink blotchy skin returned to its normal hue. The pain that Kosai was pushing against lifted.

"Get dressed," she said, her tone still flat. She turned, walked behind her desk, and leaned against the bookcase while Kosai put on his uniform. After Kosai was dressed, she turned and glared at him. "Why, after you incapacitated one of the boys that attacked you, did you go up to the Seer?"

"It seemed logical. There was an attempt on my life. I thought he should know about it." Mearto tapped her fingers on the desk.

"While I was running towards the place where I dropped you off, I caught a glimpse of someone but couldn't see him clearly. I called out to them, but they ran. Whoever it was must have known the library very well to make it out of there without a lamp. Do you remember what your attacker looked like?"

"I could point him out of a crowd. He should also have a bruise on his left cheek."

"Not unless he healed it. When you get the chance, point him out to me. When I am not instructing you, be with others."

"Who do you think is behind it?"

"Everyone knows you are here to learn to kill Vilheim. The only reason I can see anyone wanting to kill you is to stop you from destroying our enemy. This attempt on your life deeply troubles me. For now, I will bring you books to read, and you will study in my office with me." She leaned back in her chair, rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers, stared at the door and sighed. "Meet me here after breakfast tomorrow. I will show you to your room."

The bunks were like the ones at the Barracks. Each student had a single bed, with a chest at the foot of the bed. But unlike the bunks at the Barracks, each student was allowed one nightstand, a candle, and had a name placard above their bunk. Kosai guessed that there were thirty bunks to a room. Some of the bunks were empty. Some boys were already asleep, while others took to reading, or writing.

"Usually the boys light their own lamps by snapping their fingers." Mearto demonstrated by snapping her fingers close to the wick of a candle. It lit quickly. "Teachers are allowed in the quarters of the students, though I do not like to be here. This is your bed. If you wish to read or write, or do anything by candlelight, it would be advantageous to either acquire some matches or learn to light without as I have shown you. Sleep well." Mearto excused herself and Kosai looked at his bunk.

On top of the chest at the foot of the bed was a crate holding his new uniform for the School of the Faye. He removed it from crate and placed it in the chest. Underneath the uniform were his mask and a second note.

"Always be on your guard, trust no one." The note was signed by the Captain and Kosai nodded at the advice.

Especially when you are sleeping in the same room as your killer, Kosai thought. He looked out across the dormitory, but the boy's faces were hidden in books or just outside the reach of light. He took the book out of his shirt, placed the note in it and set it on the bed. He took off his Guard uniform, placed it in the chest, and put on the white shirt and pants with the blue stripe down the side. After the sleeves were tied, he lay on the bed and picked up the curious book, that he'd kept hidden from Mearto during his healing.

He opened it to the first page and stared at its emptiness.

CHAPTER 8

The Captain rode through Market Street on his white horse. He sat tall in the saddle and overlooked the sea of citizens. His amulet reflected the hot midday sun. Vendors sold scraps of cloth, lamps, eating utensils, and tattered clothes. Those that sold food only had shriveled up pieces of meat and fruit that looked more rotted than dried.

"You need this prime cut of lamb here! Nowhere else will you find a better slice of meat, try a piece!" one vendor called. The vendor took a curved blade from his belt and sliced a small strip from one of the hanging pieces in his booth and offered it to the Captain. The Captain turned his vigilant gaze for a moment. The meat was anything but lamb. Lamb had a distinct, pungent, almost nauseating smell to it, and this meat smelled more like a wet dog.

The man that stood behind the booth had a knife that was jeweled at the hilt with two rubies. The handle was wrapped in a fine silver thread. On the man's left hand was a gold ring. The signet had two long tailed serpents spiraling around each other and facing one another with jaws open and their fangs showing.

The Captain held up a hand in mild refusal and looked back down the road. The people parted to either side of the street leaving an open road for the Captain and his steed.

As he exited Market Street and entered the pavilion, he looked over to the School of the Faye. The two guards still chanted softly with their hands extended and their metal pans in front of them. He passed by the fountain and continued down Capital road.

The road to the Capital building was next to the school. The red and white banners ruffled as a slight gust of wind slid by. As he approached the building, a representative approached him and bowed slightly. He was from Noiknaer, wearing a red robe with gold colored lapels and cuffs.

"Captain, what brings you here?" the diplomat asked.

"I'm making a request for a warrant. Are you to tend to my horse?" The Captain locked eyes with the man. The man swallowed, looked at the horse and grabbed the reigns.

"Yes Captain," the diplomat whispered with his head bowed.

The Captain stepped down from the horse and flipped his cape behind him as he marched past the wolf statues towards the guards. The guards stopped him and asked to see his papers. The Captain smiled and showed the request he received from the Seer. He smiled at the guards as they let him pass. Diplomats, dressed in the colorful robes of their respective city, whispered to each other and stilled their voices as the Captain walked by. The Captain kept his eyes forward.

As he approached the door to the Council's room, the two guards that stood on either end of the door stopped him. The one on the right asked for his summons. The Captain again unfolded the paper and showed it to his former students. The guards opened the door and the Captain walked into the Council room.

"Well done," he whispered to the guards as he walked past. Each of the guards nodded slightly. Before he reached the center of the room, Councilor Steran stood and was about to speak. Rodrick held a hand and motioned for her to sit.

"Our good Captain, what brings you to our court this morning?" Rodrick asked, a feather quill twitching in his hand.

"I request a warrant to investigate the Three Brothers," the Captain said. "I believe they were behind the attack on my prized pupil and were privy to that route."

"By chance Captain, what reason do you believe the syndicate has to attack the caravans?" Councilman Simmons said slowly and smoothly, his words falling on the Captain like a cold mist. Simmons turned his attention to his nails, then the sleeves of his robe, adjusting each, then his lapels, and then folded his hands and leaned forward towards the Captain. The Captain stood still, his hands clenched into tight fists.

"I believe that the Syndicate is buying off nomadic tribes as mercenaries to attack the government caravans," the Captain said.

"That is quite the claim Captain," Simmons said. "I think that you are being overzealous. Perhaps you are still traumatized by the events yourself and need time to think this over."

"I am a seasoned veteran," the Captain said, cracking each knuckle in his hands with his thumbs. "I know pain. I have seen members of the Guard die from worse injuries."

"Be that as it may," Simmon's continued, adjusting his purple and green cuffs. "But there is one thing that you still lack. What evidence do you have of the Three Brother's involvement? None. You have a gut assumption."

"I have more than enough. One of the nomads that attacked a caravan I was escorting had the mark of the syndicate tattooed on his neck and told me to look within the walls of the city to find whoever is betraying the routes."

"But the Three Brothers have done nothing but benefit this city," Simmons said. "They have doubled the amount of schools, both in business and craft. The youth, I shall add, with the Three Brothers' wisdom, are growing to be profitable members of society. Truly, such noble and wise citizens would not hide behind barbaric behavior." Simmons smiled tightly, leaned forward, and stared down at the Captain from his second level seat with unblinking serpent-like eyes.

"Explain then, why our caravans struggle against nomadic attacks while the Three Brothers' caravans go without injury," said the Captain. "Could it be that the syndicate's caravan drivers know the routes better than the nomads do? No one can traverse the desert sands and live unless he has been trained, guided, and shown the turns by the nomads themselves. The fact that untrained, incompetent, and unqualified drivers and a poor substitute for an escort detail can traverse the desert without attack leads me to believe that the syndicate is committing the barbarism that you, Simmons, claim they are innocent of.

"The loss of goods the Tessír has suffered from nomadic tribes and storms has caused our city to continue its plunge into poverty. The people, our people, have enough only for bread, and must sell all they own to the syndicate to purchase other necessities. And what have you done? Nothing! You sit in your seat, pondering over regulation and ensuring your own protection while those you have vowed to protect perish in their own homes. You will give me that right for investigation, if you wish to have enough wine to drink for banquets. If you do nothing, soon perhaps we all shall be begging the syndicate for our bread."

As the Captain spoke, his stared at Simmons with wide eyes. The veins in his neck bulged and pulsed with every word. When he finished, his voice echoed on the walls, and then there was silence. Simmons leaned back in his chair and stared down at the Captain. Rodrick smiled and stood up, leaning over the banister slightly.

"Captain," Rodrick spoke almost in a whisper, "what would you like to secure from the syndicate to further your investigation?"

"Records, transaction history, route history, anything, everything! I want to know everything that the syndicate has done or is doing. Who are they paying, how much, for what?"

"Captain," Councilman Kevyn spoke, which caught the Captain off guard, considering that Kevyn hardly ever spoke in Council meetings. He used his power outside of the Council room, and mainly in the brothel or on Market Street. More than once the Guard was called to remove him from both locations because of his hot-headed behavior. He stood and straightened his robe. The blue and white trim showed that he was from Port Rasmú. "That is quite the request. I am not sure if it is within our power to-" Kevyn was cut off as councilor Steran began to speak.

"If you would be so kind to give us a moment to deliberate upon the manner," she said. The council stood and disappeared into the room behind their chairs. After a few minutes, they returned. As the Council sat in their seats, Steran, Kevyn, Simmons, and Aleal smiled. Rodrick, Evaan, and Nicóla kept a straight face.

"Your request to investigate the syndicate and possible relation to the attacks on the caravans is granted," Rodrick said. "Your paperwork and rights will be processed this morning and will be delivered to your quarters soon. You are dismissed."

A shadow seemed to grow over the council. Whether it was the way the light hung in the room, or if a tangible shadow loomed over the group, the Captain couldn't tell. As he exited, he shook his head and turned to the guards.

"You shall speak to no one what you have heard, if you have heard anything at all. I believe that rumors shall lead to an undoing and destruction of this people if we let them. Keep your ears open, listen to every word that comes in these doors. You shall report of your findings to me every evening at sundown." The Captain stood at the door between the guards for a while, humming and staring at the floor.

One of the guards spoke.

"Captain, what bothers you?" His name was Terynn and he was another recent graduate from the Barracks. He had a scraggly mustache and straight, oily black hair. Sweat constantly rolled down his forehead and into his eyes.

"Keep to your orders," the Captain said shortly. "I shall see you this evening." The guards saluted. The Captain returned the gesture and walked back through the corridor to where his horse was kept. He mounted his horse and started back to the Barracks.

The horse's hooves clicked down Market Street. The citizens again backed away from the Captain, refusing to make eye contact, showing a sign of respect, but the pocket of silence was disrupted when an older woman began shouting at the syndicate merchant with the ring.

"You don't understand," the old woman cried. "I need this bread. My children cry every night for bread and you, in your pride, charge too much, but where else am I to go! You must take what I can give, or my children will die!" She wiped tears from her eyes with one hand and pointed a frail, thin finger at the merchant with the other. The Captain rode up to the stand, his large stature blocking the sun so that the woman could look at him.

"Woman," the Captain said firmly. "Why do you accuse this man? Does he not provide you with bread enough, or meat enough?" The woman wiped her tears from her eyes before she spoke.

"My money is gone, I have nothing, and my children die of starvation. Begging does no good for the only people who have money to give is men like him, and the politicians, and yourself. You all sit in your government, feeding off-" The Captain held up a hand of silence. The old woman held her tongue.

"You could be struck for your talk, but I will not return ill for ill." He turned to the merchant. "How much is it for the loaf of bread?" The merchant stared at the Captain for only a moment before responding.

"Fifteen pieces." The Captain reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a small pouch. He reached inside and pulled out three coins. The coins were gold with the fist with wheat on one side, and a picture of a well on the other.

"There you have it, fifteen pieces," the Captain said, handing the true amount. A piece was a silver coin, and it took five pieces to make a gold coin. The bronze coins were called pennies, and it took ten pennies to make a piece. The merchant handed the bread over to the Captain, who gave it to the woman. Emotion robbed her of her voice. Tears dripped down her face and she could only mouth "Thank you" over and over. The Captain waved her along and turned back to the merchant. The normal noise and commotion of the market resumed.

"Now, I have relieved you of any hindrance to further business, I would expect a repayment from you." The Captain's face darkened as he dismounted his horse and stood across from the merchant's table. The merchant turned his head slightly and looked at the Captain from the side of his eyes as his hands fidgeted on the table, touching and slightly organizing the "dried" fruits.

"What do you want for repayment? I cannot give you what I have. I still need to pay a percentage to my supplier, and after that, I am almost left with nothing as well. I must say that I too, like the woman, have nothing to give, and each night I go to sleep, listening to my children who are too young to apply for school, cry for want of food as well." As the merchant spoke and organized some fruit, one of the baskets tipped over and spilled behind the table. The Captain walked behind to help him, and the merchant began to relax.

"I have no need of money," the Captain said, "but what I need you can certainly give. I need you to tell me about your supplier, and the ring you wear in your right hand. What does it stand for?" The man turned his attention to his ring and turned it on his finger. The Captain's voice deepened. "You will tell me." There was no rise at the end of his statement. The merchant attempted to look the Captain in the eye, but instead darted his attention to the floor, the walls, and the people walking by.

"As a member of the Three Brothers, I get my supplies weekly from the distribution center on Interior road, not far from where the capital stores its wagons. The fellow who runs it picks up the supplies and goods from another city."

"Who runs the distribution center?" The Captain took a step forward. The merchant looked at his feet and twisted the ring.

"A stout little man named Beoran. He provided me with a business license, a small handcart, the stand, everything that is here. Beoran only trades and talks with those who are members of the syndicate and wear this type of ring or show this symbol. Please, don't take it; it is all I have to support myself." The Captain took another glance at the ring.

"I could take my knife and cut your finger off if you wish. Or you could loan me the ring for the next two days. That is all I would need, and then I would be able to return it." The Captain reached by his belt and pulled out a double-edged knife. The blade was thin and polished. He looked at it and bounced the sunlight off the knife and onto the ring.

"I need to pick up another shipment tomorrow. Without this ring, I won't be able to provide for my family. How am I supposed to feed them?" the merchant said as he slid the ring off his finger and placed it in the Captain's hand.

"The same way that everyone else does. Thank you for your business," he said as sheathed his knife and put on the ring. "What is your name?"

"Leudoy," said the merchant. The Captain nodded, turned to his horse, mounted again, and started back to the Barracks. Heat radiated off the tan walls and trapped the stench of human waste. The acrid smell and seemed to follow the Captain as he exited the market.

When the Captain arrived back at the Barracks, he handed his horse over to the stable boy and made his way to the training ground. A haze of dust hovered around the younger students as they sparred hand to hand, with practice weapons, or wrestled with the older students. When a successful blow was struck to either sparring partner, the older student would call for a short respite and instruct the younger on why the blow was successful. The Captain took off his cape and tunic, removed his boots, and walked barefoot into the arena. He tapped a few of the older students on the shoulder and reviewed the basics of hand-to-hand defense, grapples, and disabling strikes. He then cleared an area and asked Ulryck to come forward.

He demonstrated a few standing submission techniques such as wrist locks, standing arm bars, and elbow locks.

"Our duty is to protect this city. We are to hinder robbing and looting, both from within and without. Only in the rare situation are we to kill," he said as demonstrated a choke hold on Ulryck. "All that I have to do from this point is lift and twist. Or if I hold long enough..." The older student's face went red and he struggled in the Captain's arms. "He will pass out." Just before the student passed out, he released his grip and helped the student back on to his feet. "You must acquire a firm foundation in the basics. When given an open opportunity, a proper punch, kick, stab or slash will disable your opponent. Today, focus on finding and creating openings. Lead your opponent's body to a point where you can land a powerful strike." The Captain faced the student again with his arms down at his side and nodded. The student stepped forward and punched straight at the Captain's face. The Captain shot his right arm straight up, intercepting the attack, made a large outward circle and brought his arm down back to his side. The momentum from the block flipped the student over and he landed on his back in the dirt. "That is an opening." The Captain wiped the dust off his arms and helped Ulryck up. The students saluted and continued their training.

The Captain walked among the students, giving advice and correcting them in their attacks. As he was showing a younger student how to use a block to create an opening, one of the guards came onto the field and approached him.

"Captain, documents from the Capitol have just arrived. I was told by the messenger to alert you immediately."

"Thank you, you are dismissed," the Captain said. He walked to the front of the arena, took his clothes and walked back to his office. Two documents were next to his door on the floor. He picked up the documents and entered his office.

Quickly, he looked over the warrant. It was a simple document, giving him the right to investigate past, current, and future sales as well as shipping agreements the Syndicate had. The residence of each leader of the syndicate was also listed. He then looked at the ring on his finger. There were two gold, long-tailed serpents on a red background. It was the symbol of the syndicate and it was well known. The Captain took off the ring and strung it on the necklace with his amulet. He put on his shirt, cape and boots and walked out of the Barracks.

"Captain, would you request your horse again?" the stable boy asked.

"Not this afternoon. I have no need of intimidation, at least not yet."

Even without his horse, the Captain's straight posture, flowing white cape and grave look were enough to part crowds as he walked. He held the warrant in his hand and checked it twice to make sure he arrived at the proper building. The building was located on the north side of East Interior Road. The front looked like an old castle tower with double wooden doors and brass round knockers. Above the knockers was the mark of the Three Brothers, with one snake head on each door. The Captain pushed open the doors and entered.

The room was filled with rows of desks where young men and women wrote and transcribed documents. The students' backs were towards the entrance, and at the other end of the room was a large fireplace with a marble mantle. Above the mantle was a tall red candle stick. Around the candle stick were two golden serpents. To the left was a staircase that spiraled upward.

A short obese man cautiously walked down the stairs. He wore a red vest over a simple brown shirt. He was clean shaven and looking over a piece of parchment. When he came into the classroom, the Captain cleared his throat loudly. The short man looked up and when he saw the Captain, quickly folded the paper, and placed it in his vest pocket.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure, Captain?" he asked. The students continued to write and flip through the documents on their desks as if they hadn't heard the visitor enter.

"Beoran, I take it," the Captain said.

"That I am. What can I do for you?"

"I am here to temporarily confiscate all documentation that pertains to any business that you have performed or plan to perform," the Captain said, holding up the warrant. Beoran bit his lip and patted his vest pocket.

"The council is going to hear of this. How dare they execute such an order! Kevyn was behind this, wasn't he? Why not just order to nationalize the trade industry? At least that way we'd gain some compensation!"

"I could take you to the holding cells of the Gate for impeding an investigation and questioning if you prefer." Through the raised voices, the students continued to copy and write on the papers.

"Students, please, cease your work and organize your contracts so that the Captain may quickly take them." The students, seemingly in unison, put down their quills and stacked the papers in the upper left corner of their desk. Each stack was a couple inches high. The captain quickly looked around and counted the desks.

"Forty-eight students Captain," Beoran said. "And each student has been working on five contracts this past week. That leaves you with two-hundred and forty contracts this week alone. Our archives are located in the upper tower. There are about five hundred outdated contracts there if you want them," Beoran said as he smiled.

"I will take the two-hundred and forty, plus the one in your pocket, for now," the Captain said.

"Oh this," Beoran said has he took the folded piece of paper out of his pocket. "This is just a letter from an old friend. It isn't anything pertinent to what you might be looking for. What are you looking for anyway Captain?" Beoran asked.

"May I see your letter?" the Captain said, extending an open hand.

"Do you have a warrant for it?" Beoran asked.

"I will determine if your letter speaks of future business. My previous offer still stands if you refuse."

The Captain stood still and folded his arms across his chest. "I am sorry, but I cannot give you this letter if there is no warrant for personal affects. Rules must be obeyed. But you have failed to answer my question. What is it that you are looking for? I have that right."

"There is reason to believe that the syndicate, excuse me, the Three Brothers are behind the nomadic attacks on the government caravans," the Captain said. Beoran laughed.

"That is preposterous! Your caravan drivers are of the nomads. Yes, they have signed a pledge of peace, but they are known for their fierce loyalty to their family. My guess is that they are behind the attacks."

"Then explain to me why one of their leaders wears your mark?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Beoran said bitterly and quickly, shooting his gaze to the fireplace. "I will go the council tomorrow morning and request compensation."

"These will be returned to you soon enough. Besides, you look like you could do without for a while," the Captain said as he patted his stomach twice. Beoran turned red and stomped up the stairs. The students handed their stacks of contracts to the Captain as he walked by.

The Captain carried the stacks of contracts back to the Barracks easily enough and walked into the main hall. Ulryck walked by. He had a gash across his brow and a bruise on his left shoulder.

"Looks like the training went well," the Captain said.

"Well enough. Deakon is a quick learner. What's that stack of papers you have?" Ulryck asked.

"This is going to be your next project. Gather the students."

"Yes sir," he said and ran towards the arena. A few moments later, the students came running into the main hall. They stood in a grid pattern, with the youngest students in the front, and the older students in the back.

"Students, I have a project that requires prompt completion and complete mental attention. I have two hundred and forty contracts. You are to take a few contracts at a time and search for any clause or paragraph that deals with non-monetary re-imbursement with parties outside of Noiknaer. If you find something, copy the contract number you are responsible for on a blank piece of paper, the statement and what line from the contract you found the statement. When you're finished, return your contracts to my office."

"Yes sir!" the students responded in unison. Each student came up and grabbed a small stack contract and began to read as they headed to their quarters. The last student to grab a stack of contracts was Ulryck.

"Captain, I have two questions," he said.

"Go ahead."

"What are you expecting to find, and how is Kosai doing? Have you heard anything today?"

"That's three questions," the Captain smiled, "and Kosai's assignment is not to be discussed openly. Knowledge of his dealings or describing the lack of knowledge of his dealings would be unwise at this time. Am I expecting to find anything? I'm not sure. Beoran's expression was enough to tell me that the information that I am searching for is off the record, but the students might find something. If anything, it is a good learning exercise for them."

"What are you going to do then?" he asked.

"Dig a little deeper and closer to the mark. You have your assignment," the Captain said. Ulryck saluted and walked back to his quarters. The Captain returned to his office after the main hall was cleared and set his amulet on his desk.

"What are you hiding?" the Captain asked as he looked at the ring. He took the ring off from the necklace and laid it next to his amulet. The ring rolled on his desk and hit the amulet. As it bounced off the amulet, the signet slid open, revealing a small sharp point. The Captain lifted the ring again and thumbed the point gently, but that was enough to draw blood. "No... why are you hiding?" he said, then licked his wound. He rolled the signet back into place and squeezed his thumb. The blood fell from his thumb and created a small circle on his desk. He placed the ring on his right index finger and pressed the signet into the blood. The signet left a perfect impression of the dueling snakes in the red, sticky liquid on his desk. "A pact sealed with blood. But what is the pact?" The Captain leaned back in his chair and rotated the ring on his finger. There was a knock at his door.

"Enter," the Captain said. Terynn, the guard from the capitol, came into his office and saluted. The Captain returned the gesture from his chair.

"Sir, all other meetings that have included the council dealt with higher taxes from the syndicate for a charity program, as the Council called, to aid our citizens."

"Do you recall any of the specifics?" the Captain asked.

"Just that the representatives from the syndicate were very displeased with the council and expressed their frustrations vehemently, but that was all that I could remember without looking suspicious. We are on orders to keep anything that is overheard to ourselves by the Council. By following your order, we break theirs."

"Thank you for your report. Continue to report to me every evening. You are dismissed." The Captain nodded gestured with an open hand towards the door.

"Sir, I don't feel comfortable with this," Terynn said, still standing at attention. The Captain stood up.

"I need to you listen closely to what I tell you. Each time a government caravan fails, people starve. If I am wrong about the syndicate, I want to have ears in other places. I need to know everything and anything about caravan routes. Each meeting you listen in on, each report you give me, will lead to another mouth fed, another life saved. I will see you tomorrow evening You're dismissed."

"Yes sir," Terynn said, saluted, and then left.

The Captain looked back at the ring on his hand.

As the Captain expected, one by one, each of the students returned their contracts with a corresponding blank sheet of paper.

CHAPTER 9

The Captain awoke before the sun was up. The first hints of light illuminated the city. He donned his cape, shirt, boots, and placed his talisman around his neck. Kosai's sword was next to his own on his left hip. Strapped to his back was his shield, the leather straps crossing across his chest. Tied tightly to his belt on his right hip was the pouch of black sand. The syndicate ring was on his right index finger. At the stable, he gestured to the stable boy to bring his white horse.

"We're going for a trip this morning, good friend," he said as he rose onto the saddle. People scuttled in the streets, carrying their buckets to get their water before the hot sun impeded such strenuous work. As customary, the crowds parted to the sides as the Captain strode down the center of the street.

When he arrived at the city gates, a government caravan of four wagons was preparing to depart. The suon flicked their tongues. A few of the guards were suited and ready for the escort. When they saw the Captain, they snapped to attention.

"I will be traveling with you this morning. Let's get going," the Captain said. The heavy metal chains groaned and creaked as the doors were pulled open. The suon grunted and snorted as they slowly inched the heavy wagons forward. The Captain and the rest of the guard followed. The caravan traveled west for a mile with the wind at their backs before turning northward towards the city of Linnouse. The wind whipped around the caravan. The Captain grimaced as the sand bit at his eyes. He tucked his hood further over his face.

When noon came, the wind stopped blowing and the heat of the sun poured onto the desert. Salty sweat rolled off the Captain's face and mixed with the sand in his eyes. He rubbed away the moisture with his sleeve, but the hot cloth yielded no immediate relief. The white horse was covered in a mixture of stirred up sand and sweat. The lead caravan driver whistled, and they stopped.

"Water," the driver called out. The lead caravan driver jumped down from the wagon and opened a panel near the front. In the opened area was a spout with a rusted metal lever with white crusted deposits of minerals at the base of the handle. Next to the spout was a stack of oilskins. The guards and the drivers lined up along the wagon. The Captain purposely placed himself last in line. The caravan driver filled an oilskin and handed it to the first person in line. The group was silent as they drank their water. When the Captain approached, he was given an extra oilskin, leaving none for the driver. Both were filled, but he only drank a little.

"What about you?" the Captain asked.

"One is for you, and one is for your horse. We are grateful that you are with us. Drink often. This sun will kill you if you do not," the caravan driver said. His face was covered with the dark grey mesh cloth and he wore dark goggles that hid his eyes. The Captain drained the water skin and the caravan driver filled it again.

"Is there a dish that would be more suitable for my horse?" the Captain asked. The driver climbed into the wagon, returned with a large pan, filled it with water and carefully handed it to the Captain.

"Thank you," the Captain said. He returned to his horse, placed it in front of him and drained the extra oilskin into the pan. The Captain dipped his hand into the water and then rubbed his hand on the horse's nose. The horse understood and began to drink. The horse drained the dish and nibbled the Captain's arm. The Captain patted the horse and returned the dish. The caravan drivers were the last to drink and each drained their water skins and refilled them. Once everyone satiated their thirst, the lead caravan driver whistled again, and the wagons slowly pulled forward.

The Captain took the caravan driver's advice and drank when he felt the need to. The heat increased as the sun traveled slowly across the sky. Water breaks were taken more often, and the caravan driver seemed to know where the shaded areas of the trails were as he weaved between dunes and ridges. As they came out from the shadowed areas, one of the guards doubled over and heaved. A small amount of green viscous liquid came from his mouth. The Captain raced over to him. The caravan stopped and the lead driver jumped from his wagon and ran to the guard.

"This is why you need to drink often. Come, I will put you in the wagon," the driver said.

"Does this happen often?" the Captain asked.

"Not too often. Sometimes the heat makes us forget to drink," the driver said as he helped the guard up to the wagon.

The afternoon finally disappeared, and the dark of night came quickly. The caravan stopped in between two ridges. The captain raced towards the front.

"Why are we stopping here? This is the perfect spot for an ambush." The Captain circled his horse around, checking each dune around the caravan.

"We are not stopping; this is just the first checkpoint. We have goods that are to be delivered and payment that is to be received. Our contact will appear over that ridge. He will light a torch. I will then light a torch. He will put out his torch. I will put out mine, and then I will light mine again. He will see us and appear," the driver said.

"I thought that this was a government transport. I was unaware of private business being conducted. Does your contact buy government goods?"

"No. We transport a few packages for him when we have a run out this way."

"Do you know what's in the packages?"

"No. The packages are set outside one of the syndicate member's offices. One of our drivers picks them up, and we deliver them. We earn a little extra this way and we can feed our families a little better."

"Our contact wouldn't happen to be a member of the syndicate, would he?" the Captain asked.

"Yes, he is."

"Why? The government caravans are a direct competition to their business."

"Most times that is true. But the syndicate does not place much confidence in their caravans. Their drivers do not know the sands like we do and that leads to attacks by the nomadic tribes."

"Recently, the tables seem to have turned," the Captain said. "Government caravans are being attacked while the syndicate is going unharmed. Do you know why?" The caravan driver shook his head. The Captain dismounted from his horse and stood next to the wagon, looking up at the ridge. "You were once a nomad. How did you come to be employed by the city?"

"My people survive in the desert," said the driver. "There is food and water enough if you know where to look. When leaders become greedy, the people starve and resort to ambushes to provide. My family was starving and I knew that raiding government caravans would only postpone the inevitable. Each raid was met with death.

"The nomadic tribes know of the deal offered by Tessír. If a nomad comes to the gate, seeking protection, and signs an agreement of peace, they are hired on to drive the wagons and lead the caravans. I came to the city with my family and signed that agreement. My wife began a school here to teach those who wanted to be drivers and taught some of the nomadic skills we are taught as children. I am able to feed my family from the pay so there is little room for complaint."

"Do you know of anyone who has ever gone back to the nomads?"

"It happens enough. When a family cannot find food, they go where the food is. I have seen drivers who have left attacked caravans that I have driven."

"Do you think the syndicate would hire nomads?"

"I don't see why not. And I am sure if they are not compensated, they would go back into the desert."

A man appeared on the ridge holding a torch. The figure waved it above his head. The lead caravan driver and the figure exchanged the lighting of torches. The figure was quickly joined by five others and they cautiously slid down the ridge. The Captain turned the syndicate ring on his finger so that the signet was visible. A small wagon appeared in front of the caravan pulled by a young suon. As the figure reached the bottom of the ridge, he lit another torch and held out a scroll.

He was a small, thin man with a tan face. His long, scruffy blonde hair covered his forehead. The four figures that surrounded him were dressed in desert clothing. Their faces were hidden behind black cloth.

"Driver, here is the list of goods we have ordered. You and your crew may load them into the other wagon. Please be quick." He then turned to the Captain.

"Captain! You chose to personally escort this caravan?" asked the man. The Captain nodded and held out his right hand to greet this individual, purposely showing the ring. The man received the offer and looked down at their hands as they shook. "I see now why you did."

"Consider it a part time position," the Captain said. "Are you in charge of the syndicate's dealings in this area?"

"No, I only deal with purchases and acquisitions. Why do you ask?"

"If I am not mistaken, Aldair lives in Linnouse and he is one of the leaders of the Three Brothers. I need to ask him some questions." The man chuckled.

"I will take you to him. My name is Soren by the way," he said. The lead caravan driver whistled loudly and moved the caravan forward. The Captain turned to his guards as they passed by.

"Stay alert," he said as he mounted his horse and followed Soren and his group to the smaller wagon.

They journeyed northward, following the government caravan, navigating through the large mounds of sand. After an hour, they came around a large dune and saw Linnouse sparkle in the middle of the valley. It was one of the few successful cities of the desert. Few went hungry because there was plenty of work to do in the mines, and the pay was often a loaf of bread and a portion of minerals extracted that day by the laborer.

After they traveled down the hill, the caravan broke off and headed northwest while the Captain and Soren's wagon headed to Linnouse. A few hours later, they were within earshot of the gate.

The outer wall of Linnouse was like the outer wall of Noiknaer. It encompassed the city and was made from dark red cement. A tower oversaw the city gate. A large torch hung outside the tower window and illuminated the entrance to the city. A man appeared and called down to them.

"What business do you have at this hour in Linnouse?" the guard called.

"It's Soren with the Three Brothers. I have a late caravan that I need to deliver to Aldair. I also have the Captain of the Guard with me." The figure disappeared into his tower and the gate rotated open. Soren whistled and the group moved inside the city wall.

There were a few citizens toting buckets of water in the streets. As the Captain caught their eye, they quickly stepped to the side of the road and waited for him to pass. Their clothing was ragged and torn, and they walked with hunched backs from years of working in the mines. The underground mines were a cold escape from the desert heat, but the labor was hard and strenuous. There, workers chiseled out salts, gold and iron ore, constantly breathing and choking on dust filled air.

"You might be wondering how these people get bread every day," Soren said as they walked through the city. "That, my friend, is the beauty of our company. We have our own mines here and use the metals extracted to buy wheat that comes through Caite, and occasionally from the Western Wiles on the other side of the Broken Blades. Traveling through the pass in the Blades is dangerous and we risk a large loss, though it is quicker. We order the grain, they process it in Port Rasmú, and we sell the flour to the city or citizens as well as using it for payment for our own laborers. It's a very profitable system."

They turned down another street and stopped next to a large building. There were three loading bays wide enough for a caravan wagon to pull into. Inside the building, there was enough space for each wagon to turn around and then exit. Five men, wearing only tattered pants, stood in the center of the building. Standing a little way off was a pale-faced, tall, thin man. He held a wooden tablet with a piece of paper nailed to it. A small vile of blank ink was on the tablet, and he held a feather quill in his other hand. He wore a grey robe and white shirt with a belt that had a golden oval buckle. The buckle was like the ring that the Captain wore. Next to him was another man, not as tall, but tan with short brown hair. He seemed well fed, but not portly. He walked with his hands behind his back and looked eagerly at the caravan.

"Soren, I am glad you have returned. Was there any trouble?" the tall man asked.

"Not at all and we even had the Captain escort us here from the checkpoint," Soren said. The pale faced man turned and bowed slightly.

"Captain, we are indeed grateful for your services," he said in slow, slithery tone. He turned back to Soren. "Your bill of lading lists certain amounts in bolts of cloth, liters of dies, and two bushels of wheat. Is that correct?" The pale face man handed Soren the quill and wooden tablet.

"It is. I will get a final count for you. Captain, this is Aldair, our Master of Inventory for the Three Brothers and Thuane is our Master of Finances."

"Ah, good, I have some questions for Master Aldair and Thuane."

"Then I will leave you to it." Aldair waved at the group of men who followed Soren to the wagon. Inside the building, crates were stacked on top of crates, vases and barrels lined another wall. At the back of the building was another large door. Pairs of men, wearing dust-covered pants, shoes, and brown vests, walked towards crates, and carried them out the large door where they came.

"I was unaware you were a part of the Three Brothers, Captain," Aldair started. "I doubt that bodes well with the council."

"Consider it a part time position."

"I also heard you seized some of Beoran's documents and threatened to shut down business, in a legal fashion I might add, but didn't. So, what questions do you have for me Captain? Or are you here simply to flaunt your authority?"

"I need to know if the syndicate has ever taken in a nomad for hire and if so, have any nomads left the syndicate and gone back to the desert."

"This is about the attacks on the government caravans, isn't it," Thuane said hotly. Aldair put a hand up to calm his friend.

"Some of our drivers rejoice when we come across such a disaster," Aldair said, "but Thuane and I, as well as other officials in the Three Brothers, are disheartened. The caravans provide for the people and I applaud the efforts. We have, in the past, taken nomads in and hired them as drivers but stopped that practice in recent months due to... repercussions."

"Repercussions?"

"Our caravans saw significant losses due to abandonment," Thuane said. "Our drivers would make agreements with the nomadic tribes for leadership positions in the tribe, securing water and food for their family in exchange for trade route information. We discovered it by keeping a close watch on our drivers. One of our own students was assigned to watch the drivers and see who leaked information and what was talked about. When we found out which drivers were betraying us, we cut them off and changed our routes. Whether they went back into the desert or begged in the city I am not sure. That was the source of our problem, perhaps you should check there."

"I'm curious Aldair," the Captain said, "did any of the nomads tattoo themselves with the Three Brothers' symbol?"

"Many did. Many members of our guild, nomadic or not, mark themselves on the shoulder, forearm or wear the mark of the guild."

"What about the neck?"

"You must mean Iserum. He was one of our best drivers. Because of his talent, he was often given high profile assignments. It wasn't uncommon for him to run personal caravans for higher officers within our guild. As far as I know, his last caravan was for Beoran and the caravan was ambushed. He and the other drivers joined with the nomads. When Beoran found out, he fired every nomad and hired out from one of the schools in Noiknaer."

"Caravans are ambushed quite often. Why would he fire all of the nomads over one loss?" the Captain asked.

"There are two people that you can get that information from: Iserum or Beoran," Aldair said. "Beoran never mentioned his reasons to us."

"One other question before I go. The Three Brothers will sometimes hire out the government caravans to transport goods. I doubt you worry so much about grain, cloth and ink. What else was in that caravan? And did you pay anyone to make sure that it arrived safely?" Aldair wrung his hands together and watched as the bags of wheat were offloaded into totes. Thuane cleared his throat.

"Nothing more than personal items Captain," Thuane said. "I personally paid for this shipment and it has nothing to do with any affairs of our guild."

The Captain sighed as he watched the men finish offloading the wagon.

"Aldair, your sympathy for the failure of government caravans is much appreciated, but the Three Brothers benefits when the government fails, do they not?"

"When the government caravans are attacked and unsuccessful, demand for our goods goes up and we are able to charge a higher price. If anything, it is helping our margins."

"Why wouldn't the Three Brothers attempt to ambush government caravans more often?"

Aldair chuckled softly and shook his head.

"You are under the assumption that the Three Brothers is the reason your government caravans are not as successful as they once were," said Aldair.

"We don't ambush your caravans Captain," Thuane said flatly. Aldair's demeanor quickly changed and he gave Thuane an icy look.

"It is as I said before," Aldair said, "most leaders are disheartened by the attacks. The removal of the government caravans would be profitable for our business and it does present and strong motive for the acts that you are suggesting. What evidence do you have to support your claim?"

"You haven't answered my question Aldair."

Aldair snorted and lifted his head slightly.

"Honestly Captain, I am insulted that you would insinuate that the syndicate has had any involvement in the attack of the government caravans. They provide a valuable service to the people, people who we sell to. Without the support from Tessír, we would have no market base in the city and would be at a loss. Chances are the Three Brother's wouldn't exist."

"You still haven't answered my question." The Captain folded his arms and stared straight at Aldair.

"We don't ambush your caravans Captain," Aldair said.

"Then how do you account for the syndicate's dramatic success rate compared to government caravans?"

"Luck," said Aldair slowly. "Thuane and I have a very busy night ahead of us with the recent shipments." Aldair bowed as he spoke. There was a split second of silence. He rose back up to look at the Captain. Aldair's expression was blank. There was no tinge of red in his face, no twitch of his eyes. There was no sign of emotion.

"You will notify my lieutenant posted here if you hear of anything related to our discussion tonight," said the Captain.

"Yes, Captain," Aldair said, bowed a second time, and then walked over to the wagon and inspected the off-loaded inventory. The Captain mounted his horse and entered the street.

Linnouse was mapped much like the capital. The main government building was towards the center and the Barracks was located on the perimeter on the west side of the city. The sound of the horse's steps penetrated the night as he walked closer to the Barracks. Two men stood with spears at the entrance. As the Captain passed by, the guards stood up straighter and held their spears more firmly.

"Captain," they said in unison. The Linnouse Guard uniforms were like those in Noiknaer; the only difference was the helmet. Two ram horns curved from the back of the helmet, went down behind the ears, followed the jaw line and curved up just beneath the eyes. A pointed ridge started on the nose plate, traveled up between the eyes, over the top of the head and down the back of the helmet.

"Where is your lieutenant?" the Captain asked.

"He is in his office. Shall I wake him?" The guard on the left asked.

"Yes, and you," the Captain ordered, pointing to the other guard. "Find the stable boy and have him tend to my horse. I will be returning to him in the morning." The Captain dismounted and followed one the guards to the lieutenant's office.

The Barracks of Linnouse were like the Barracks in Noiknaer. Every turn and length of hall was too familiar. When they arrived at the lieutenant's chamber, the guard knocked on the door. It too, was like the Captain's. An impression in the shape of the lieutenant's talisman was on the door.

"If I am to be bothered at this hour in the night, someone better be dead, dying or we better be under the attack." There was some muffled bumping and hustling. "Because if there isn't-"

The door opened. The lieutenant was a head and a half shorter than the captain and much skinnier. His head was shaven, and he wore a white robe. He turned to the guard and then looked up at the Captain.

"Because if there isn't what, Lieutenant Ryale?" the Captain asked, smiling.

"Captain, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Ryale responded as he saluted. The Captain returned the salute.

"It is unwise for a leader to make threats that he is not planning on carrying out," the Captain said.

"That is why you are the Captain, and I am not." Ryale looked at the guard. "You are dismissed," he said to the guard who bowed and left. "Please come in. Tell me, what news do you bring?" The lieutenant closed the door behind them as they entered Ryale's quarters. A lamp was already lit. "I heard about Kosai. This wouldn't have anything to do with that, would it?"

"It has everything to do with it. I think that the syndicate is paying off nomadic tribes to attack government caravans."

"But the syndicate has also suffered losses at the hands of nomadic attacks, recently too. There was an attack last week on a syndicate caravan making its way here. If your suspicions are correct, then the syndicate must be paying off only a few tribes."

"And that is what bothers me," the Captain said, "I need proof and I don't have it. Today I went and questioned Aldair and by luck, Thuane was there too. He hired a government caravan to deliver what he called 'personal goods' that had nothing to do with syndicate business. He ordered dyes, cloth, and wheat. I recently visited Beoran in Noiknaer. He was adamant about holding onto a letter or piece of parchment he had folded up in his pocket.

"The warrant I have is for ledgers, assets, documentation, anything that the syndicate as a business has done and will do. Beoran was upset that I would be able to take all his documentation, as was Aldair, which makes me think that the syndicate is bribing or hiring nomads to hinder government caravans. The only solid way to know is to witness them in the act of hiring the nomads. I am ordering you to keep a firm watch out on them. Interrogate those who do attack the caravans if you can and obtain any information and then report back to me."

"Captain, I will keep my eyes and ears open. I will order the Guard here to double their vigilance. What has the capital said regarding this matter?"

"Some were quite pleased to issue the warrant, Steran being one of them. Surprisingly, Rodrick didn't seem so happy about it. But it doesn't matter, they are all self-centered and deceptive as always. Trying to perceive their motives past their own greed is pointless. The point is to save lives. When the government caravans come, people can eat and live for another day. If the syndicate is hindering that process, they could just as well be held for murder. I need solid evidence."

"I am sure you will find it," Ryale said. He rubbed his hands to his eyes, stretched, and then let out a long, growling yawn. "Do you have a place to sleep tonight?"

"I was planning on finding room at an inn," the Captain paused, and leaned closer. "I need to look into something first."

"You have that look Captain. What's on your mind?"

"Ryale, rouse one of your guards up and send them out. I want a set of eyes on Aldair this evening."

"Yes sir, and I have just the man for you," Ryale said with a smile. "Would you like to give the order personally Captain?"

"No. That won't be necessary. I need to get some rest. I will see you early in the morning before the next caravan heads out."

"Yes Captain." Ryale saluted and the Captain returned the salute. "Oh, and Captain, I would recommend Desert's Moon Inn for a decent night's rest. It is a newer inn and one of the finest in Linnouse. It is five blocks north of the fountain. If that one doesn't suit you, there are others close to it that might."

"Thank you Ryale."

The Captain gave a penny to the stable boy to keep his horse there for the night and walked towards the fountain in the center of the city. There were homeless people tucked and snoring against the walls of buildings, but not nearly as many as the Captain was used to seeing in Noiknaer. There were a few transients scouring the streets for a dropped coin. They looked different than the homeless in Noiknaer too. They seemed stronger and healthier. Not one was dressed in tied rags, but instead wore threadbare, worn out clothing.

Different colored lanterns were hung outside the houses and shops giving the city the gemmed glow it was famous for. Some homes were made from tan cement and others from wood. Houses and shops were painted red, green, orange, or other bright colors. There were a few homes that remained unpainted, the brown cement a drab contrast to the colors around them. Some homes were one story, while others were three. Some were small and square, while others were rectangular with many additions.

The pavilion was like a museum. Figurine statues were evenly spaced around the perimeter. A lush flower garden surrounded each statue and filled the air with sweet nectar smells. The pavilion was paved with square gray stones in a circular pattern around the fountain. The fountain itself was another sculpture that seemed to put the others surrounding it to shame. It was a woman, standing atop a pedestal. A robe covered one shoulder and draped down to her feet. In one hand, she held a cluster of grapes, and her other arm was arched above her head, as if she were dancing. Her hair was tied up in a bun with some of her bangs twirling down by her cheeks. Water bubbled up from under her feet and poured into the pool which she stood in.

The Captain stopped, dipped his hand into the pool, and took a drink. The water was cold and sweet. There were three shops in the pavilion. To the north, there was a clothing shop. A yellow robe with red trim was on display in one of the windows. To the east was a rug and tapestry store called The Yarn. The sign was written in curved letters and the tail of the Y led to a ball of blue yarn. Hung up in the window was a tapestry that had sharp, black curves that led to knife like points on a brilliant red and orange background, giving the impression that one was watching a fire. Next to the tapestry was a sign.

"Help wanted," it said. "Skills in weaving and dyeing required. Inquire within" was written in slantedc subtext beneath it.

"I haven't seen one of those in years," the Captain said before taking another drink.

To the south was a metal smith called Hammer and Craft. On the sign was a picture of horseshoe, with gold rings hung on the ends. The smith was one of the graduates of the Forge and was exceptionally talented with custom metal work. The success of Hammer and Craft was a testament to his ability. Under the tutelage of Ellene, he became one of the best smiths. Ellene bragged to the Captain about the former student and planned to send others to work for him once they graduated.

Refreshed from his drink, the Captain walked north, counting the blocks and looking for the Desert's Moon, which wasn't hard to find. The outside was white brick, with two spires at the front corners that looked like narrow pyramids. The building was five floors high. The entrance was a wooden double door with vertical brass bars for handles. The Captain stopped as he reached for the handle. Painted across the door was the name, Desert's Moon, in light blue, but traveling up each handle was a brass snake. At the top of the handle, the snakes were facing each other, fangs bared. The Captain smiled and entered.

"Welcome, welcome," the innkeeper called. He stood behind a polished oak desk that was common in most inns. The desk was decorated with white vases filled with gold-painted flowers. The innkeeper wore a flowing and hooded gold-colored shirt with light blue cuffs that went past the innkeeper's knees. He seemed pale for a Tessíran and had a pigment complexion like that of someone who had spent a long winter in the Western Wiles. The innkeeper seemed fit, lacking any excess fat around his neck or chin lines, but he shirt and pants hid much. He wore a ring on his left hand that was similar to the one the Captain wore.

"I hear this is the one of the best inns in Linnouse," the Captain said.

"Ah yes, yes, the best, simply the best, and I have just the room for you. Tell me, what are you looking for? You are the Captain. I heard from some tenants that you were in town. We have rooms for luxurious pampering, a romantic evening, or some solid rest and relaxation."

"A simple room will be fine."

"Let me see what we have available," he said as he pulled out a ledger from a drawer in the desk.

The Captain looked around the lobby. There were paintings of desert nightscapes hung on every wall. In front of the paintings were black leather sofas and chairs with decorative green, red, blue, and purple cushions, each with golden tassels and flowered embroidery. The black seating and vibrant pillows were a bright contrast to the white marble floor. Between the sofas and chairs were other vibrant colored shag rugs. Bright red, oranges, greens, and blue squares were woven into a black fabric.

"I have just the room for you," the innkeeper said. He opened a drawer underneath a desk and took out a key. "Follow me."

The Captain followed the innkeeper up three flights of stairs and down a hallway. Halfway down the hallway, the innkeeper put the key in the door and showed the Captain to his room.

"This is one of our... simpler rooms. There is a private bath, I will be sure to have some hot water brought up to you, with scented oils and candles to calm tense muscles and ease the mind into a relaxed state. The bed sheets are made of satin and there is a feather comforter. If you need more blankets, they can be found in the top shelf in the closet. There is bell pull next to your bed if you need anything. Do you have any questions?"

"Is this hotel is owned by the Three Brothers?"

"Yes. They started the plans for building, provided the funding, and then hired staff and management."

"And how much do you earn?"

"We have free room, plus ten pieces per day, just enough to feed the family and pay for their education."

"How much for this room?"

"Fifty and five for the night," the innkeeper said. The Captain was silent and looked around the room. "I know it is more expensive than others, but surely you deserve to indulge in comfort this evening."

"Do you know where I receive my pay?" the Captain asked.

"From the Capital I would measure."

"And where do they receive their money?"

"Taxes."

"Yes, taxes. There are people in Noiknaer that are starving this evening because they don't have money enough to buy bread. There are others who had to choose between paying taxes and buying food. And there are others, who hope that these taxes are not used in vain. I cannot in good conscience spend their money on something this lavish." The Captain began walking to the door when the innkeeper stepped in front of him.

"But isn't your salary, something that you sacrifice over, rightfully yours? Who says that you can't pamper yourself? It's because of your hard work that the people who are taxed have a safe place to sleep. It is because of your training, and diligence that those who cannot do for themselves, are provided by the government caravans. Captain, you are being too hard on yourself. It's your money, do with it what you will. You earned it."

"You are right," the Captain said, camly pointing a finger at the innkeeper. "I have earned my wages. I have fought, bled, and sweat over them. When people see the Council, who sit in lofty chairs, drink fine wines and eat well every night, they grow to anger and struggle to make ends meet. They do not trust the Council because of their behavior, and I will not betray their trust by supporting lavish living off their backs."

"Do not tell me, Captain, that you have eaten only bread and drank only water all these years. Would not a simple glass of wine, or anything beyond that be considered a betrayal of that trust? If you want their trust, sleep in the streets, and beg for your food. Give your salary back to the people and buy their bread."

"I should have your tongue cut for that remark. You speak outside your bounds. Good evening." The Captain brushed by the innkeeper, walked down the stairs and into the street. A vagrant walked up to him in dusty, tattered clothes with hands outstretched.

"Please spare a coin?"

"How about a trade instead? Where is next closest inn where I can find a stiff bed for a cheap price?"

"Two blocks to the east is The Dune. Cheapest bed in town," the beggar said. The Captain nodded and flipped him a piece.

"One other question," the Captain called out as the beggar walked away. "Do you have work?"

"Oh yes. I work in the mines each day for a loaf of bread. Not the fluffy stuff, mind you, but the hard squares. Need about a bucket of water to wash it down." The Captain nodded with a smile and watched the beggar walk off with his head down, searching for an extra coin.

The Captain came to The Dune and bought a room for ten and three pieces. The mattress had strands of straw sticking out all over, making it look like a pincushion. Ropes were tied to each end of the bed frame, supporting the mattress. The wool blankets and feather pillow scratched and poked at the Captain's sides and cheeks, but he fell asleep quickly and slept soundly.

CHAPTER 10

The stable boy placed the saddle on the horse when the Captain walked up. The sun had not yet risen and the chill of the desert night still lingered. The Captain didn't say a word to the boy, but walked around the horse, patting its neck, shoulders, and legs. He checked the reigns and stirrups, making sure each were at their proper length. As the sun began to break over the horizon, Lieutenant Ryale walked down the stairs of the Linnouse Barracks. A tall, lanky student with shoulder length dark hair walked next to him. Dark purple bags hung under his slightly bloodshot eyes.

"Captain," Ryale called down to him. "Mikael just returned from his assignment." The Captain turned and stood in front of the guardsman with his arms folded.

"Good, let's hear it," the Captain said.

"When I first arrived, Aldair was in his office. He has a desk in front of a window. He sits with his back to the window which makes for excellent spying. After an hour or so, he left his office and went to the loading docks. He visited with two syndicate caravan drivers there. I was unable to hear what he told them, but the meeting wasn't very long and Aldair looked upset. I kept my eyes on Aldair the rest of the night, but nothing else happened. He worked on some papers in his office and then retired to his home for the evening."

"Were you able to see the papers he was working on?"

"No. He is left-handed and leans over his papers in such a way that his whole upper body is bent over the desk. The paper is also skewed at a sharp angle. He writes in such a small print too and goes from one side of the paper to the other. I couldn't see it from a distance, even with my telescope."

"And what did he do with those papers?"

"He was working on two. One he put in a locked drawer in his desk and the other he tucked in the inside pocket of his coat."

"Thank you, Mikael," the Captain said. He grabbed his money pouch from inside his uniform and paid the boy five pieces for his efforts. "Now go get some rest. That's an order."

"Yes, sir," Mikael replied with a salute. After the guard had gone back into the barracks, the Captain mounted his horse and began to head to the gate.

"Captain," Ryale called. "Why did you pay him? What value did he provide you?"

"More than you know, lieutenant."

At the city gate, government caravans were preparing to depart. The suon hissed and grunted. There were eight wagons on the caravan, and it was led by the driver that the Captain accompanied the evening before. He and the Captain exchanged nods. Each guardsman carried a spear, a short sword on their hip, and a buckler strapped to their back.

"Line up!" the Captain bellowed. The guardsman ran and stood in a straight line in front of the Captain. There were twenty of them. "I have a strong suspicion that this caravan is going to be attacked. The last caravan I was in was ambushed and the carried bows. One of the guards of the Capital Barracks was wounded but should make a full recovery. If we are attacked, stay with the caravan. Let them come to us. The wagons provide plenty of cover and the archers are not incredibly skilled. They seemed to make an impact simply by numbers. Stay on alert." The guardsman saluted and the Captain returned the salute. He then made his way to the front of the caravan

"You think we are going to be attacked? I do not think so, Captain," the lead caravan driver said.

"What is your name?" the Captain asked.

"Quinn, sir," the driver said.

"Quinn, why do you think this caravan will not be attacked?"

"We are going back to Noiknaer. The winds have changed and now come from the southeast instead of the north. There will be a sandstorm somewhere along our route today. The nomads know this and will leave us be until tomorrow. They consider sandstorms a bad omen and do not venture near them if they can help it."

"I appreciate your insight Quinn, but one of my best students was nearly killed in an ambush during a sandstorm. I won't take the risk of letting my guardsman be anything but their best."

"I understand, Captain," Quinn said and then looked behind him. He surveyed the eight other wagons and their drivers. He whistled loudly and swung his hand in a circle above his head. The suon grunted and pulled as the city gate into the desert.

The day was already heating up. The south winds were surprising cold and bit at the inner ear as they passed by. The caravan stopped for a water break every half hour. By mid-day, the guardsmen shoulders were hunched. Some sniffled and coughed, while others were pale and sweaty.

"This is why the nomads consider sandstorms a bad omen," Quinn said to the Captain. "The hot and cold can make one sick. The mind cannot comprehend it. The body cannot decide whether to shiver or sweat. So, it does both, leading to quicker dehydration, leaving the body weak. The nomads are not as healthy as those from the cities, and it is certain death if they are caught in the front of a sandstorm. Look." Quinn pointed onto the horizon. A long brown cloud was quickly growing larger and coming towards them. "We have an hour and then we must stop."

The caravan pushed forward for an hour before stopping. Each driver released their team of suon and covered up the wagon. The Captain dismounted from his horse and pulled it into one of the makeshift shelters that the drivers made next to their wagons. After the horse was tended to, the Captain stood next to the lead wagon. The next minute, the sandstorm was on them.

Sand seemed to whirl in every direction and made its way into every crease, crevice, corner and crack in the Captain's face. He wiped his face, attempting to clear gritty sand. It seemed for every grain of sand he wiped away ten more took its place.

"Captain, please come inside," Quinn called above the wind. "No one will be out in this type of storm."

"I appreciate your concern," the Captain called. "But I am rarely wrong when..." the Captain stopped and looked as far into the sandstorm as he could. On the edge of his visibility, there were two amber eyes with black slits staring back at him. The Captain drew his sword and unstrapped his shield from his back.

"Guards! Form up!" The guards came running out from their canvass shelters with spears in one arm and shields in another. The lindworms wasted no time. The guards jabbed and thrust their points into their hard skin, aiming for a killing stroke. After the guards made short work of the desert lizards, they smiled to themselves for the small success. The Captain examined the kills, turning each head, looking at the teeth and color of the scales. He picked one of the larger heads that was missing an eye as well as some of its teeth and began cutting away at the neck.

As the guards walked back to their shelters, a black jet of wind shot from where the desert lizards came from. Before the Captain could warn the guards, the black wind swirled around them and engulfed them in a dark cloud.

"No!" the Captain yelled as he sprinted towards them. A large club or mace thudded against guards' shields. There were flashes of purple. One of his men screamed.

The Captain entered the black cloud. The wind was still. A black mist rolled at his feet. The guards struggled to hold their shields and were pale. One of the guards lay dead.

A figure dressed in black from head to foot shot up out of the mist. It held a long club and swung towards the Captain. The Captain raised his shield in his left arm to deflect the blow. The blow forced the Captain to one knee. Before the Captain could recover, the figure swung down a second time. As the club made impact, there was a snap, and the Captain growled in pain.

"Get out of here!" the Captain ordered to the guards. The guards nodded, picked up their fallen comrade, and ran out of the black cloud.

The black figure swung at the Captain's side. The Captain ducked and rolled backwards. He tried to raise his shield, but the pain was too great. He looked at his arm for a second and could see why. The middle of his forearm was slightly bent. The figure lowered his notched club and laughed a dark, slow, deep, rattling laugh. The Captain dropped his shield and tucked his arm close to his body. His fingers reached around his belt for the pouch with black sand.

"I know you. You are Vilheim. Sixteen years ago, you approached me in the tower of Noiknaer, saying you would have need of me. Recently, you attacked my son," the Captain growled.

"And I know you, Captain," Vilheim said slowly and softly. The Captain untied the pouch from his belt and held it in his hand so that Vilheim could see it clearly. Vilheim laughed again. "Your dead earth will not serve you here. I expected more, much more, from the Captain of the Guard, but I cannot kill you here, no. I still have a need of you and your Guard." He closed his yellow eyes, lifted his head, breathed deeply, and then all at once, the darkness and the sandstorm were gone.

The other guards stood next to the caravan, sweating. When they saw the Captain, they cheered. The Captain tied the pouch to his belt and walked slowly back to the caravan, wincing and holding his arm. Quinn ran out to him.

"Your arm is broken," he said. He looked back at the caravan, held his arms above his head in a cross and whistled. The other drivers jumped down from their seats. One started to make a fire. Another filled a kettle with water, and another brought wraps and four flat metal bars. "Captain, how do you feel?" Quinn asked.

"Weak. It takes all my energy just to walk," he said, breathing heavily.

"We will tell stories later. We cannot go further. Most of the day is gone as is the strength of the Guards. We will camp here tonight."

"What?" asked the Captain, astonished. He looked up in the sky and saw the sun close to the horizon. There was about one hour of daylight left. When they reached the caravan, they laid the Captain and the dead guard next to the fire.

"Are there any guards with strength enough?" Quinn asked. One stepped forward. "In my wagon, in the driver seat you will find a small box. In that box, you will find a bottle about the size of my hand filled with a dark brown liquid. Bring it to me." The guard nodded and ran to the wagon. "Captain, I commend you for how your guards behave. They take orders very well." The Captain nodded but closed his eyes. The fire cracked and popped. The kettle let out a low hiss as the water began to boil. One of the drivers unraveled the bandages one by one and soaked them in the hot water. The guard returned and handed the bottle to Quinn.

"Captain, open your mouth," Quinn said as he opened the unstopped the vial. He lifted the Captain's head and held the bottle beneath the Captain's nose. "I have saved this bottle for a special occasion such as this."

"What is it?"

"Consider it a pain killer."

"The pain is good for me; it will make me stronger."

"Then consider this a celebratory drink," he said as he pushed the bottle into the Captain's mouth. The Captain swallowed a couple mouthfuls before Quinn pulled the bottle away and closed it back up. "We are going to set the bone, attach the splints and then wrap it with our bandages. This is going to be a painful process." Quinn waved over to the other guards and told the guards to hold the Captain down. He placed the flat pieces of steel next to the broken arm, took a breath, and then set the bone. The Captain groaned and breathed quickly but did not struggle. A few moments later, he was asleep. Quinn then placed the steel on the sides of the forearm, on the top and on bottom, and dressed the arm with the hot, wet wraps. The steel splints that were on the top and bottom of his forearm stretched from his elbow to the tips of his fingers. The wrappings were wound tightly around his arm and splints as well as up to the middle of the bicep. It was night when Quinn finished the cast and it looked the like Captain wore a mesh gauntlet on his arm.

All the guards and drivers sat around the fire. Some were roasting and eating pieces of lindworms they had killed earlier. The Captain woke, sat up, and stared at the fire.

"Guards," the Captain said. He paused and looked up from the fire. "What happened in the black cloud?" The guards looked at each other and gestured for Seth, one of the younger guardsmen, to speak.

"A figure appeared out of the shadows and struck. We had just enough time to raise our shields but couldn't retaliate. Hamleton raised his shield, but the figure didn't swing. Instead he raised a hand and these black ropes shot out and wrapped around Hamleton. They exploded in purple and he was down. Then you showed up."

"What did you do with the Hamelton's body?"

"He was wrapped in a canvas and placed in one of the wagons," Quinn said.

"And how long was I in the dark cloud before it vanished?" the Captain asked.

"Eight hours," Seth said.

The Captain stared back at the fire and said nothing. A small piece of lizard was passed to him. He took it and ate it. After he swallowed the meat, he cleared his throat.

"What we have seen this evening stays within this circle. If people begin to believe that the Capital Guard has a weakness, enemies will do all they can to exploit it."

"What will people say of your arm?"

"My horse was spooked by a snake. I was thrown and the wagon ran over my arm. Understood?"

"Sir!" the guards said in unison.

"Don't you think the Council should know about this?" Quinn asked.

"No."

"You do not trust them," Quinn said.

"Why should I?" the Captain barked. The guards looked up from the fire and stared at the Captain. "Go stand post," he said. The guards stood up and left the fire. Quinn stayed behind

"What good would it do?" the Captain said in a hushed voice. "At best, the Capital would say that more evidence is needed to link the syndicate to that figure. I could ask for a warrant to seize all their property, personal or otherwise, but I can't ignore what I have seen."

"You're afraid of something," Quinn said. The Captain was quiet for a moment.

"I have never felt so close to death. If the figure that attacked us in the cloud, wanted to kill us he could have. He said he still had a need of me and my guard, and that my dead earth," the Captain pulled his pouch from his belt, "this black sand is worthless."

"He implies then, that he has some control over what the Guard does," Quinn said.

"If that is true, then he has some control over what the Capital orders, and that is why we will never speak of this again."

The Caravan set out at dawn and arrived at the government distribution center in Noiknaer before noon. People glanced at the Captain's broken arm as they lined up to receive their bread, dried fruit, wheat and other staple foods. The Captain oversaw the process until the last wagon was emptied.

After the Captain returned his horse, he walked to Market Street, searching for the syndicate merchant. The stand where the Captain first met Leudoy was empty. The Captain asked the other merchants where Leudoy was. Each said that they hadn't seen him for a couple days. The Captain asked if they knew where Leudoy lived and was surprised with the answer.

"Somewhere in the Tangle," a merchant said, "though I can't see why."

The Captain paid them a penny for the information and walked quickly to the Tangle. Shadows from the makeshift wooden structures provided a mild relief in the afternoon heat. Breezes pushed and shifted the the houses and bridges. Creaks and squeaks echoed down through the dust filled streets. The dust and rank smell created and rotten fog that was reminiscent of moldy laundry. The ladders were built with crooked railings and the rungs were held together with strands of twine and cloth. The Captain shook his head and took time climbing the ladders, ensuring his stability of each rung with patience and trepidation. People sat under sheets of wood in the upper sections of the Tangle, while those on the ground level sat in shelters pieced together with rope, rags, blankets, and rugs.

"Leudoy?" the Captain asked repeatedly. None of the people spoke, but rather pointed in the direction the Captain should go. The Tangle was silent. The clamor of the market could be heard, but it was faint, like a distant waterfall. After climbing a few more ladders and getting a few other directions, the Captain eventually found Leudoy's home. The home was more like a room. The four walls, door, and roof were made from large planks of wood that came from broken wagons. A small symbol of the syndicate was painted on the door. The Captain knocked softly. Leudoy cracked the door open. The Captain took off the ring and held it in front of him.

"Thank you," Leudoy said. He snatched the ring, put it on, and began to close to the door but the Captain held it open with his foot.

"Why is there a needle under the ring?" The Captain asked.

"You found that, did you?" Leudoy looked behind him, walked out slowly, and quietly shut the door.

"When someone decides to join the Three Brothers, it isn't a decision that is taken lightly. The Three Brothers feed their own, and provides means for basic survival, which is something this city cannot provide on the streets alone. Joining the Three Brothers is literally a contract signed in blood that you will under no circumstances, on your life, swear that you will not compete in any way with them. If they were to find that you faked being a member of their group, and that I gave you that ring, I don't know what they would do to me."

"You don't have a reason to fear. You did not break your contract. You did not compete with them, and your ring has brought me more information than I could ever pay for." The Captain untied his money bag from his belt, handed it Leudoy, and headed back to the Barracks.

CHAPTER 11

Kosai sat across the desk in Mearto's office with a stack of books to his right. The stack grew as Mearto pulled volumes down from her personal library, carefully looking at each title, drawing her hand across the spine and then nodding before deciding. After she perused the books, she took out a piece of paper, ink, and pen and made notes on the piece of paper. After all the books had been scanned, and notes made, she put a few back and then handed the note to Kosai.

"On this note, you will find titles and page numbers. I will be back in two hours' time and expect an oral report on what was read." Mearto flipped a large hourglass and left the room.

The past week had been one elongated study session on the Awakening. Each morning, after breakfast, Mearto would escort Kosai to her office, pick out a stack of books, assign Kosai to read the sections that she had written down, lock the door, and leave for two hours. As soon as the last grain of sand dripped from the hourglass, she returned. Kosai gave his oral report on a portion of the Awakening, and the process would start all over again.

Kosai felt that the process was inefficient, mentally draining and a waste of his time. Each night, when Kosai retired to his bed, he stayed up for an extra hour reading the book that wrote itself, and re-learning what he learned that day. For whatever reason, the words from the book seemed to stick in his mind much easier than those in Mearto's library.

For new conduits, or those who were already attuned to the Faye, the Awakening was simple, painless, and was usually done in front of other students as an initiation ceremony. The Awakening was the process of gaining control over the subconscious part of the mind and involved a type of hypnosis.

Each conduit, in their mind, would be in a body of water. They would swim to the bottom, pick up an object and then swim to the nearest portion of land. The water was never very deep, eight to ten feet, and the shore was never far away. As soon as the object was brought on shore, the ceremony was complete. Usually, the object was a small trinket like a ring or a colored stone.

For those who were not attuned to the Faye, a Forced Awakening was extremely dangerous and usually deadly. Mearto insisted that the only way to prevent Kosai's death was to prepare his mind through study. The body of water was almost always a sea in the middle of a storm, the object was often extremely heavy, and the shore was never close. If the person drowned in mental hypnosis, they died in reality. This was unfortunately discovered after a second attempt at a Forced Awakening in the early years of the School. The first and only person to survive a Forced Awakening was Mearto. With the Seer's recent vision about Kosai defeating Vilheim, it made sense that Mearto was assigned to teach him.

Even with all the learning, Kosai was frustrated that he had not found a lead into who was leaking the route information and why. Each night, after spending an hour studying and re-learning, he stayed up until everyone in the room fell asleep, strategizing how he was going to complete his mission. There was no way to keep a close watch on the teachers in the night without being spotted or heard. There were no rafters, statues, or suitable corners to hide behind.

Mearto's method of teaching also bothered him. She said for Kosai to point out the student that tried to kill him the next time he saw him. Instead of providing that opportunity, she had locked him away, after breakfast, brought him lunch and dinner, and then sent him away just before lights out. Was she really on his side? Or was what she said a cover to ease Kosai's inquisitiveness about the situation? He wasn't sure, but he thought of a plan to find out.

As soon as Mearto left the room and locked it, Kosai pulled the book that wrote itself from inside his shirt and set it on the desk. He opened to the sixth page and pressed the book firmly on the desk so that the pages would stay open. He then bit the tip of his finger just enough to peel back a piece of skin and draw a small amount of blood. He squeezed his finger over the book, but before a drop could fall, words began to appear on the page.

"Your blood is no longer needed to unlock my pages," the book wrote. "You are the first to unlock the pages, and to ensure you are the only one who reads my pages, you only need to lick your finger and press it into them."

Kosai pulled his thumb back and licked the cut. He then licked his other thumb and pressed it onto the sixth page. The words faded and new words appeared.

"I see that you have a task to do, ah, and the books are in this room."

"That's only part of it," Kosai whispered. "I need to know if there are any personal notes, a journal, letters, anything that Mearto wrote about me, the syndicate, or the Seer." The pages remained blank. Kosai tapped his finger on the desk, watching each grain of sand drip in the hourglass.

"There are a few letters that cover those topics as well as a journal. There is something here that I think you would like to read."

"Not now, later, tonight probably," Kosai paused and looked at the stack of books. "Right now, I need to finish my assignment." The pages were blank again. Kosai took a breath and remembered the first lesson; patience.

"Good, more on the Awakening. Do you know why Mearto wants you to read these books? You are the only one who can defeat Vilheim, but for reasons you do not yet know. I will, in time, reveal those reasons to you. If you die during the Awakening, not only this school, but the world will have lost all hope." The pages were blank again and Kosai thought about his mission from his father. Was it important compared to his destiny to destroy Vilheim? Should he abandon the orders of the Captain? Was there a way to do both?

"What can be more important than Vilheim's demise? I have read your blood and I know you are seeking the one who is leaking the trade route information. Be patient and focus on the task at hand. You will do your assignment, and when you give your oral report, suggest practicing. You will see." The words faded away and new ones began to appear, but they were not from the book that wrote itself, but from the stack of books that Mearto had pulled from the shelves.

Kosai read the portions of the books that his book showed, reading more stories about past students and their Awakenings. The last section was not a story, but a report on what conduits were supposed to do with the objects after the Awakening.

"Once the sonduit brings the object ashore," Kosai read aloud slowly, "the connection to the subconscious can be made speedily, but with significant limitation at first; hence the need for communion with the Faye. During communion, the conduit must, in his mind, destroy the object that was brought from the sea. The object and mental capacity of the conduit will determine the time of this task." Kosai looked at the hourglass. The last grains of sand were dropping. Kosai quickly closed his book that wrote itself and placed it in his shirt.

Mearto came into the room and closed the door gently behind her. Kosai stood and turned to face her. She looked at him, at the books, and then back at him.

"What have you been doing this whole time? Those books haven't been touched since I left! I don't have time for this!" she chided. She walked to the desk and looked at the note she had written and shook her head. Kosai stood still, breathed and thought hard about what he was going to say. "What am I going to tell the Seer? Don't you understand your purpose here?" Mearto crossed her arms and glared at Kosai.

"Neither do I," Kosai said firmly.

Mearto shook her head and leaned forward.

"What?" Mearto asked.

"You said you didn't have time for this. Neither do I. I understand that my Awakening could kill me. We need to practice and prepare for the Awakening. Reading books, though helpful, isn't going to solve the problem."

"It is reading that is going to keep you alive during the Awakening," Mearto said placing a hand on the stack of books. "You need more mental preparation. This isn't like training at the Barracks where you have a few bruises, cuts, and sore muscles. This is just as serious as real battle. You're not ready. Read these books in the next two hours. That's an order," Mearto said, pressing her knuckles into the desk. She glared at Kosai and then walked to the door.

"No," Kosai said just as she placed her hand on the doorknob. Mearto released the doorknob and turned back to Kosai.

"Insubordination. I am sure the Captain would love to hear that." Mearto smiled and turned to the door again.

"Someone tried to kill me, if you remember, and what have you discovered concerning that? I am sure the Captain would love to hear that my instructor is suspect in an attempted murder." Mearto turned and froze. Streaks of lightening flashed in her pupils.

"If I wanted to kill you," she said as she ran up to Kosai, grabbed his collar, lifted him and pushed against one of the bookcases. Kosai faught back the urge to break the grip and counter. "I could right now, in this very room and I could make it look like suicide. Do you understand?"

"Then, why don't you?" Kosai asked with just as much intensity. Mearto released her grip and the storm in her eyes calmed.

"Because someone else in this school is trying to and it doesn't end with the boys who attacked you in the library. While you were busy studying, I have spent my time watching the students, reading their expressions. There is a group of boys that stay close together and have a close association with one of the teachers that was against your coming here. One of the boys, Shàn is his name, had a bruise on his left check. The day after you were attacked, I watched the boys and tried to approach them, but Theo, the teacher who is against you being here, intervened. Recently, I asked them about the encounter, and they said that you came and attacked them."

"Why not ask the Seer to See what happened?"

"There are very strict rules about what the Seer can or cannot See. Every time he Sees, he loses a portion of his life. I have asked the Seer to See what happened, but he has declined to do so, trusting that evidence and truth will prevail."

"How convenient," Kosai said quietly.

"I see you have some reservations about the Seer," said Mearto, amused.

"My opinions are my own," Kosai said shortly. Mearto laughed. "But what of Theo? Why didn't he approve of my coming?"

"The decision was made by Principle Daius that you would be coming here. Daius brought all the teachers in conference to make the announcement. Theo explained that you would most likely die during the forced Awakening. There was something more in his tone though. I pressed him for more information and possible alternatives, and he yielded without any force." Mearto paused, turned and looked at her books. "When you were attacked, did Shàn say anything to you?"

"He said it was because the Seer told him that I was going to destroy this school. After I knocked him out, I ran up the stairs, which was when I ran into you. Then I approached the Seer and he denied the claim."

"And do you believe him?"

"I'm not sure what to believe."

"Interesting..." Mearto turned away from her books and walked around her desk. Kosai stayed where he was and watched as she ran her hand along the bookcase, her fingers bouncing on the spines of the books. "If the Seer did See you destroying this school, and if he shared that vision with Theo, then there is a good chance that both want you dead. It is only a guess for now, and we would need some evidence against them."

Kosai shivered. When he was on an escort in the desert, instinct took over. To him, the threat of death hid behind every sand dune and shadow. This was different. Knowing that your enemy was close and targeting you created a different, chilling, almost paralyzing sensation. Kosai shook the feeling aside and focused on the present. Perhaps Theo was the one betraying the routes. He thought back to what the book had told him. The most important thing he could do was to focus on his Awakening.

"I think things will reveal themselves in time," Kosai said, "but for now we need to prepare for my Awakening."

Mearto smiled and turned her attention back to Kosai.

"That is one of the more intelligent things you have said since you arrived." Kosai blushed a little and was confused on how to respond. Unable to find a quick retort, he began to ask about something he had read about Mearto's Awakening.

"Earlier this week, I read that you are the only survivor of a Forced Awakening," Mearto frowned and looked down at the floor. "What was it like?"

"My ocean was dark and fierce. Lightning slashed in the sky and there was so much rain. At times, as I rode the swells, I felt that I couldn't breathe. It took me two attempts to dive down to the bottom of the ocean. I found my object and swam for what seemed two days untill I found shore and then I lost consciousness. I woke a week later.

"If you would have read your assignment, you would have known that each conduit must destroy the object they retrieve from the sea. What you will learn next is that you must continue to destroy the object through daily communion with the Faye. Most objects are trinkets, but mine, no, my object was a child, a child that I am to raise in the future, and each day I must destroy it. No one will ever understand that pain."

Kosai was silent. He pictured the horrific event in his mind for a split second and then tightly shut his eyes to block out the mental picture. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to help her, he wanted her pain to stop, but he couldn't think of the right words to say.

"That's terrible, horrible... why? I, that, that isn't right," Kosai said, stumbling over each word. Mearto looked back at Kosai, frowned and placed a hand on his shoulder. A faint smell of lilac and sea salt wafted in the room.

"It's okay Kosai. There are things about the Faye, that no matter how long we research or meditate, we will never understand." Mearto removed her hand, sat in her chair and gestured for Kosai to sit as well. "Each object that is retrieved from the sea has significance and carries a message. Part of the Awakening is to find out what that message is." Kosai was about to speak but Mearto held up a hand for silence. "I have often meditated on what the child exactly symbolizes and what the message is, and I am unsure. It could be that I should be childless for my life because my child or children will do terrible things. It could be that only one will do terrible things."

"I'm sorry," said Kosai. He looked down and stared at the floor. "I couldn't do that, wouldn't do that. I never would have asked had I known it was something like that."

"I know," Mearto said softly. "And I am telling you because you need to know. No matter what your object is, you must learn to destroy it. Never forget your own purpose. Your Awakening is the key for you to eventually kill Vilheim. That is why we need to focus on preparing you for your Awakening and try to keep you alive until then. I doubt you would survive a second encounter with Shàn and his friends." She turned over the hourglass and started to leave the room.

"When we will practice for the Awakening?"

"When you're ready," she said as she closed the door leaving Kosai to his assignment. Kosai pulled out the book and opened it to the sixth page. He licked his thumb and pressed it firmly into the page.

"She didn't take well to the suggestion," the book wrote, and then the words faded.

"No, she just turned me to the books again, but I was able to glean some information from her and she was able to glean some from me. She wants to keep me alive, and neither of us trusts the Seer, but, why doesn't she?" Kosai said to himself.

"That will be a reading for this evening." The words faded away and were blank for some time. Kosai knew that when that happened without any formal dismissal, he was to be patient, and so he sat, waiting, and watched as the grains of sand dropped. "If you were to begin practicing on your own for the Awakening, Mearto would have to start teaching you. It would be dangerous, and you could possibly die unless she is there to guide you."

"Use my own life as a bartering chip," Kosai said to himself and the book. "I don't think I would even need to swim downward, just keep myself afloat. How much time do we need?"

"The Awakening is like dreaming, only these are dreams you will always remember. In the Awakening, it may seem like a couple of minutes, but it could be a few hours. For you to taste a portion of the Awakening, and for the experience to be effective, we need to start soon. First, some instruction." The words on the page faded and new ones from another book began to appear.

The new text explained the process for the one conducting the Awakening, showing the different words and tones to use to coax the soon-to-be conduit into a subconscious state as well as how to coax them out in case things grew too difficult. The book then presented how to retreat from an Awakening, but Kosai skimmed over the text, disregarding most of it. To get to the subconscious state, the one who was going through the Awakening needed to relax and be perfectly still. Once the words were spoken to lull them into a subconscious state, applicants were already in their body of water. On the rare occasion that they were not, there were other words and phrases that led the conduit to the water. The main strategy, however, was to get the conduit to focus on the energy inside them and visualize it as a body of water, and then to go to that body of water.

Luckily for Kosai, swimming was something that came natural to him. Once a month for a two-day assignment, the guards from all over Tessír would travel to Port Rasmú to swim. The new recruits would go to Port Rasmú every week until they learned how to, and then would go back once a month for practice. There were government ships that would travel between Tessír and Caite, shipping cargo back and forth. Guards were sometimes requested to protect the ships, as well as ensure that none of the goods went missing during their transport. In the unlikely event that mutiny and shipwreck, the Captain made sure that his guards knew how to swim.

Magnus was the lieutenant in Port Rasmú, and he was an excellent swimmer. He would teach the class and his guard would assist. The recruits would wade out to their waists and first learned to float. Magnus would then show them how to move their arms, how to turn their heads to breath, and always emphasized the importance of relaxing.

The recruits looked like fish flopping in a caught net. Arms and legs thrashed about, water splashed everywhere, and the guards went nowhere. When Kosai swam, he was calm. Each stroke was smooth and powerful. When Kosai breathed, it was controlled. Lieutenant Magnus took notice and kept Kosai at Port Rasmú for two months to assist in teaching the recruits. The Captain was surprised, but more pleased with Kosai's success than anything else.

"You must remember these words," the book wrote. "Look inside yourself. Search for that energy that the Faye gives all. Let your mind travel there. Feel your grip on consciousness slip away and let it slip. Be in the water. Be part of the water."

Kosai read the words over and over again, committing them to memory. As he remembered the words, word by word began to disappear until the page was blank. Kosai closed the book and put it in his shirt, took a breath, closed his eyes, and relaxed his body. He could feel his heart beating, his chest expanding and contracting with each breath.

"Look inside yourself," Kosai said softly. As if waking from sleep, a small purple light began to appear, no larger than a pea. "Search for that small amount of energy that the Faye gives all." Slowly, the small speck of light began to grow, first to the size of a coin, then a fist, then the size of a shield, until everywhere he looked was a bright, purple light. "Let your mind travel there. Feel your consciousness slip away and let it slip." As soon as he said this, he was falling. The purple light faded into a dark blue, and then blackness. His heart beat faster, he began to breathe harder. "Let it slip," he said again. He calmed his body, and let the vertigo engulf him. He could feel his body turning, pointing downward. Wind flowed across his face. Beneath him was the water. "Be in the water, be a part of the water," he said calmly.

Splash!

Kosai hit the cold icy water. He couldn't breathe in. He opened his eyes. Water surrounded him. He waited untill he knew which way was up, oriented himself, and with what little strength was left he swam upwards. His strokes were clumsy at first and he hardly moved, but the need to breathe triggered adrenaline, and he raced upward.

He gasped as he broke the surface. Barely treading water he looked down towards his arms and chest. He was completely naked. A hard and fierce wind blew behind him, splashing wave after wave onto his head. Kosai tensed at the cold as he sank and then kicked upward again. When he broke the surface, a swell came and lifted him up, and then down and then crashed on him, forcing him down into the ocean again. He kicked to the surface, but his muscles were stiff. With each kick, his legs throbbed and became heavy, as if molten lead was being poured into his thighs. The shock of adrenaline wore off and panic was setting in.

You idiot, Kosai thought. You can't die, not here. Kosai kicked harder, rising slowly to the surface. Kick, kick, kick, kick, he said to himself repeatedly. He reached the surface again and took a breath. The ocean turned to a dark blue, and Kosai fell upwards, out of the ocean. The night sky turned back to the dark purple, and then to the bright purple light. The light shrank until it was the size of a pea. Kosai opened his real eyes and saw Mearto standing over him.

"You idiot," she scolded. "You can't die, not here, not like this. There was a reason I told you no. You're not ready." Kosai was shivering and coughed. He ran his hands through his hair, expecting to find saltwater, but instead found sweat. "You are so pathetic." She took one of her cloaks that hung on a hook and threw it around Kosai. "I take it you learned your lesson."

"Yes," Kosai said. He coughed a second time. "Next time I will get straight to diving."

"Fool!" Mearto yelled.

"I am sure you had weeks of preparation!" Kosai barked back. "I don't have that much time."

"No, as a matter of fact, I didn't have weeks of preparation. It was decided for me, and it was tried. But I lived for a much different reason."

"And what was that reason?"

"That is none of your business! You almost died. I saved your life. By right, your life is mine. And don't talk to me about you not having that much time. The time you have here is what I give you."

"And the time you have is what the Captain gave you." Kosai stared at Mearto and wrapped her cloak tightly around him. Mearto stood, scowling at him.

"You are no use to anyone dead. It's over for all of us if you're gone. Why are you so adamant about getting killed? Why do you want to force my hand?" She paused, turned and looked at the bookshelf. "You have something else you're supposed to do here, aren't you? Becoming a forced conduit is just your foot in our school. There is something else, something that the Captain wants you to find isn't there? Why else would you want to hurry the Awakening? You threaten to kill yourself, I succumb to your desires to hurry the process, leaving you time to do something." Kosai coughed again and began to shake. "And I think I know what over. It's about the trade routes, isn't it? The Seer thinks that I am the one leaking the trade routes, and with you being a forced conduit, it fits perfectly into his strategy to have you watch me." The scent of lilac and sea salt filled the room as she spoke. Kosai nodded. He was too weak to come up with a different story or cover.

"The Captain told me to keep an eye on everyone," Kosai said, "not just you. He thinks that the Seer wants me to watch you so that he can go unnoticed. It doesn't rule you out as a suspect, but yes. That is why I need to hurry this up. Every day I sit here and study, people die." Mearto chuckled again.

"You are too weak to be left alone right now, bur this evening you and I will go out. I'll prove my innocence in this, and perhaps you and I can work together." She sighed and smiled. "A little more than a week and someone is trying to kill you, you almost kill yourself, and I find that you and I have more in common."

"So, it seems," Kosai said dryly through his teeth.
CHAPTER 12

There was a knock at Mearto's office door.

"Enter," Mearto commanded. The way she said it reminded Kosai of the Captain and in other ways, not like him at all. She was tall, firm, and controlled. She laid out her words with precision and each word had an air of authority and power. But in other ways, she seemed soft, gentle, and even with the threats and insults, Kosai understood that there was a sense of genuine concern. She was just... different. It was the smell of lilac and sea salt, Kosai decided, that made her different. He felt calm around her, even when she was barking orders or scolding him.

"Sorry to bother you." It was the matron. "But there is a guest for Kosai, waiting in the board room."

"Thank you," Mearto said. She dismissed the matron and waited until the door was shut. "Are you fit enough to walk?"

"I've felt worse," Kosai said. He took a deep breath and coughed roughly, spitting up a glob of phlegm. He swallowed it, stood and hung the cloak back on the hook.

"You should wear that. You look cold and weak."

"The pain is good for me, it will make me stronger," Kosai said with a smile. Kosai opened the door and walked out. Mearto followed closely behind. "I'm quite alright," he whispered to her.

"I'm not letting you out in this condition without some assistance," she said. Kosai shook his head, not to disregard her comment but to clear his mind. The floor spun slowly, and even though he felt cold, his face was covered in sweat. He stumbled, fell against the wall, slid down to the floor and coughed again. Mearto reached down to help him up.

"No!" Kosai said as he brushed her arm away with his. "I can do this." Mearto folded her arms across her chest and stared at her student. Kosai pawed up the wall, regaining balance, took a few more steps and fell again.

"Apparently not," she said. She grabbed Kosai under the arms and helped him to his feet. After he was on his feet, she placed his right arm over her shoulders, held his left hand in hers, and tucked her right arm around his side. Kosai breathed through his nose, smelling the lilac and sea salt again. He smiled.

"Apparently not," he agreed. Together, they walked slowly towards the board room. They stopped at the door and Kosai took another deep breath.

"Can you go in on your own?"

"I think so," Kosai said. Slowly he opened the door and entered the room. He smiled again, seeing the Captain sitting towards the middle of the long table. The Captain stood. Kosai took a couple steps towards him before faltering. He caught himself in a chair. Holding himself, Kosai saluted and stood as close to attention as possible while bracing himself on the chair. He noticed the cast on the Captain's arm but said nothing.

"Sit Kosai, you look awful," the Captain said. Kosai nodded and sat on in the chair. The Captain stood up from his chair and walked over next to Kosai. "Is everything ok?" he asked Mearto.

"He'll be fine Captain," Mearto said, taking a seat on the other side of Kosai. She glanced at the Captain's cast and then looked up at the Captain. The room started to smell like lilac and sea salt. "We have been trying to prepare him for the Awakening through mental exercises. Unfortunately, they have quite the effect on the body."

"I'm fine, really," Kosai said.

"The pain is good for you; it will make you stronger," the Captain said, placing a firm hand on Kosai's shoulder. He looked up at Mearto. "If you don't mind, I have some private business to discuss with my son."

"She can stay," Kosai said. The Captain looked at him, then at Mearto, and then back at Kosai. "She knows the other reason I'm here and she claims innocence."

"Kosai!" the Captain said disapprovingly.

"Captain," Mearto said calmly. "Do not be mad at your student. He did not divulge anything to me. He held his secret well and was very strategic in making time for his investigation. It was only after his most recent near-death experience that I was able to discover his secret."

"Most recent near-death experience! Kosai, what happened? What did you tell her?"

"I don't have time for this," Mearto said.

"Excuse me?" the Captain said, even more angrily.

"Those were the words he said to me, 'I don't have time for this'. From that, as well as surrounding events that were completely outside of Kosai's control, I discovered his secret. Luck just happened that I discovered it when he was mentally unable to put on a suitable ruse."

"How convenient for you then," the Captain said coldly. Mearto chuckled.

"You two are so much alike. Rest assured Captain, I am not the one leaking the information about the caravans, and I have proof. If you would like to escort Kosai and I this evening, I will show it to you." The Captain stared at the desk, and then looked at Kosai.

"Will he be well enough this evening?"

"He should be. The effects, though dramatic and draining at first, wear off in a few hours." The Captain nodded. Kosai folded his arms on the table and laid his head down and breathed heavily. "Kosai, are you sure you can be here? What I am about to say is extremely important. You need to remember every word." Kosai sat up slowly and straightened his posture.

"I'll be fine Captain. It's just like any other time I was laid up and you lectured me." After making sure that Kosai was coherent, the Captain explained his investigation with the syndicate. He talked about the secret notes, the private use of the government caravan by managing syndicate members, and of Leudoy, the syndicate merchant that the Captain borrowed the ring from.

"But that wasn't all. On the journey, back from Linnouse, we were attacked by Vilheim. That was when my arm broke. The only reason he didn't kill me, and the platoon I was with, he said, was because he still had a need of me and them."

"How," Kosai said weakly. "He has no association with the Guard."

"I think the more important question, Captain," Mearto said softly, "is did you find anything linking the syndicate to the leaked route information?"

The Captain shook his head.

"None, just suspicion," he said.

"And what is that suspicion?" Mearto asked.

"For Vilheim to make such a claim insinuates he somehow controls the Guard. We take our orders from the Council only. I suspect that he has some measure of control over the council. The higher-ranking members of the syndicate are also doing something between themselves while the lower-ranking members live on the brink of poverty. I have spent this past week watching them, and my gut tells me that they know about the trade routes, but I have nothing to hold over their heads!" the Captain slammed his right fist on the table. "Tell me you've found something."

I've found something alright, Kosai thought, placing his hand on his chest and rubbing in a small circle over the book as if he was comforting a pain.

"I haven't, Captain," Kosai said. "I've been trying to make time, but until now, the situation hasn't presented itself. There has been an additional development however." Kosai talked about the boys that tried to kill him, their denial afterword, and that the Seer declined to See what happened. "Mearto shares a common interest with us too." Kosai looked at Mearto and she picked up on the cue.

"I, like you and Kosai, have some reservations about the Seer. He dictates trade routes to Jaiken and I, mediates in the Oasis in the afternoons, but beyond that, he is rather reclusive. I found it highly suspicious that he would call on you and Kosai to investigate the leak, claim innocence, and then be absent most of the day." The room was silent again. The Captain stared at the desk and scratched his chin.

"There is something you should know Mearto," the Captain finally said. "When I was with the Seer, alone, I asked him to See who was leaking the trade route information."

"He saw me giving the information, didn't he?"

"Yes," the Captain said slowly and cautiously.

"And he told you that he can only See, not hear, correct?"

"Yes," the Captain said again with more confidence. Mearto laughed slightly.

"I know exactly what he Sees, and it is not what he thinks. Please, you must come with me tonight and I will prove to you that I am innocent."

"Do not treat this lightly. You must prove to me that you are innocent. Treason is the crime being committed, punishable by death, or a life at the Gate." Mearto's changed instantly to a icy glare and she folded her hands across her lap.

"I am not committing treason. In fact, I am doing the opposite. I am compiling evidence against whoever is. And, I am trying to mitigate future losses through negotiations."

"I don't understand," said Kosai, "you hint that the syndicate is betraying the routes yet claim that your association with them is the opposite of treason."

"The syndicate group that I meet with is parting ways, as it were, with their parent company in hopes to aid the people. In the room where we meet, a large map is placed on the table. Future routes, previous failed and successful caravan routes, as well as financial planning are all discussed. The Seer doesn't understand that I am assisting them in their plan to break away from the syndicate."

"How will you prove this to me?" The Captain leaned back and folded his arms over his chest.

"Meet Kosai and me at sunset, next to the fountain, but in a disguise of some sort."

"Fair enough," the Captain said. He stood up again. Kosai tried to push his chair out to stand as well but couldn't find the energy to do so. "But any sense of foul play-"

"Captain," Mearto said softly. The room filled with the lilac and sea salt smell again. "I swear no harm will come to either of you, if so, you may charge me with treason and send me where you will." Mearto bowed slightly and the Captain nodded.

"On that note, I have something I want you to look at," the Captain said. He untied the pouch on his hip and tossed it to Mearto. She opened it and poured out a portion of the black sand into her hand.

"Dead-Earth," Mearto said slowly, examining each grain that rested in her palm. "Where did you find this?"

"I found it on one of the earlier caravans I went on. Kosai's old sword was stuck in the ground and covered in the stuff as well as a black paste. It burned my hand as I poured it into the bag. I thought it might be of some use against Vilheim." Mearto continued to stare at the sand, and then carefully poured it back into the pouch. "But before he disappeared, he said that it wouldn't do any good."

"Do you have the sword with you?" Mearto asked in a slow, even tone.

"I do and wanted to ask you questions about it as well," he said as he pulled Kosai's blade from his belt and laid it on the table, the handle pointed towards Mearto. Kosai groaned when he saw the chipped and blackened edge of the blade. Mearto cautiously picked up the sword and examined the red tint of the blade and the black-stained edge closely. She placed her finger on the edge of the sword and then recoiled quickly.

"Clever of you to take the sand with you, because the pouch solidifies what the Seer has said about Kosai. But it also brings with it some troubling news. Dead-Earth is earth that had the Faye, or the world's energy, the power that grants life to all living things, sucked out of it. It would be comparable to draining you of your blood. Usually, dead-earth is the beginning of a Seep. I strongly suspect that after Kosai injured Vilheim, that he took Kosai's sword, stabbed into the ground, and sucked the life from the surrounding area to heal himself."

"And what of the pain I felt in my hands? How are you able to handle the dead earth?"

"The pain you felt on your hands, Captain, was Vilheim's blood, or essence, and that is also what has stained this blade." Mearto placed the blade on the table and looked at the Captain. "It is a challenge to Kosai as if he were saying that he isn't afraid of him."

The Captain placed Kosai's sword back in his belt and then laid a hand on his son's shoulder. "Kosai, feel better by this evening," he said in a tender voice. "Teach him well," he said to Mearto.

"Yes Captain," Mearto replied. She bowed a second time as the Captain left. She waited for a moment and then turned to Kosai. "Do you feel like walking again?"

"I will in a minute, I think. My strength is coming back," he groaned. He placed his hands on the table and pushed himself up. "The floor stopped spinning."

"That's the worst of it, but for you, not the last of it," Mearto said. Kosai took a couple steps towards the door. Mearto took a step towards him, arms outstretched. "I can walk now. I'm tired, that's all."

"Good," she said. She placed her hands by her side. "We can talk more in my office." Kosai and Mearto walked slowly, but straight.

Each step brought renewed strength, and it wasn't long before Kosai felt almost as he did before the Awakening, save for being slightly drowsy. At his teacher's office, Kosai sat in his chair and Mearto sat behind her desk across from him.

"There are two things that I am concerned about," Mearto said. "First, how did you begin the Awakening without assistance?" Kosai rubbed his eyes for a moment, playing off his drowsiness to think of an answer.

"I read some words down in the library. I committed them to memory and repeated them over and over."

"Ah," she said as she grabbed a piece of paper, pen and ink and jotted down a note. "More importantly, I sense that the Captain doesn't trust me. I sense that you don't trust me either. Why?"

"Create a common enemy, gain confidence, find weakness, exploit," Kosai said in a monotone voice, reciting from memory.

"You and the Captain see this as a cover then, to get closer to you and then what? Kill you? It's irrational. I have no motive. It is more important to me that you stay alive."

"Your trust will either be earned or lost this evening. The Captain perceives more than most give him credit for," Kosai said.

"You need your rest. Go to your bunk. I will be close by if you need anything. Dismissed." She waved her hand. Kosai stood, thought about saluting, didn't, and walked cautiously back to his bed. Once he lay down, he took the book out from his shirt and opened to the sixth page, licked his thumb, and pressed it into the paper.

"How did your practice Awakening go?"

"Terrible. I almost died," Kosai whispered. No one was in the dormitory yet, but he didn't want to run the risk of someone walking in on his conversation. "Once Mearto broke the trance, the floor would not stop spinning and my body felt terrible. I don't think I made any headway about practicing for the Awakening, though she did talk about the trade routes."

"Which was what I wanted to show you." The words faded and words from Mearto's personal journal appeared.

Today was a concussive blow to my research. It was announced publicly today that the individual who would eventually kill the Dark One was discovered. He is the senior student of the Barracks. He is not in tune with the Faye in any way and the Teachers want to make him a forced-conduit. The Seer will choose me as the boy's mentor and teacher for this process, considering I am the only one who has survived the ordeal. I now must rework my schedule around him and find a way to prepare him for the Awakening, as well as continue researching who in this school is leaking the trade routes. Jaiken isn't nearly smart enough to be so close to both the Seer and I and still be undiscovered. It is my belief that the Seer has deceived us all and he is betraying the people, for an unknown reason. I must find that reason if I am to succeed. I am also troubled that the Seer has declared to us who will destroy the Dark One, but not how. Perhaps that will come to light soon enough.

The entry faded and another appeared.

Our newest recruit, Kosai, has only been here two days, and already someone tried to kill him. He fended off his attackers and came away fine. I wasn't sure how to read him at first, whether he was lying, but I could find no reason for him to. He was racing up the stairs to see the Seer about something, and I am under the assumption that Kosai talked to the Seer about the failed attempt on his life. He is still young, and stupid, but that action of going to the Seer may play into my hand yet.

Kosai seems like a strong young man, and I fear he is growing fond of me. I have done all that I can to distance myself from him, ensure his survival, and still teach him and prepare him for the Awakening. I am not sure yet if he remembers me healing him that night.

Kosai is taking well to his book studies and there is minimal resistance on his end. His training with the Barracks has paid off, for me anyway, and I think this process is working well enough, for both our sakes. He still has an issue with retention, I can see it in his eyes when he speaks, but there isn't enough time. I hope he understands the gravity of the situation, and at least in time, comes to understand that he may die if he isn't prepared for the Awakening. Each day he spends in study is a day closer to defeating the Dark One.

I have expended all my resources and have found nothing, not a trace, about who is leaking the routes. If it is the Seer, I cannot find a trace to him. If it is Jaiken, I can most assuredly promise that he is acting under someone else. If it is a member of the council... Faye help us if it is.

Tonight, I plan on talking to a member of the syndicate about this. They used to be attacked by Nomads, but not so frequently anymore. I met with a low-ranking official, who led me to another, who showed me to another syndicate member, who eventually told me to meet someone at one of their schools the next night.

"This last entry was from last night," the book wrote underneath the journal entry. The words faded and the last entry appeared.

I visited with a few managing members of the syndicate. No names were shared, and each wore a cloth about his face. If word got out that these people were helping me, the syndicate would come down on them, and they could lose their jobs, possibly their lives. There were four syndicate members there looking over a large map when I arrived. Apparently, this small group of syndicate members has been tracking where the Nomads have attacked and forecast where they would attack next. From what I could learn, there was a pattern to their behavior, and the syndicate members were somehow able to attach a monetary value to the risk of loss on when and where and what caravans were going to be attacked. But that changed not too long ago. The nomadic attacks began trending more heavily towards government caravans.

This group of syndicate members suspects that the nomads have been organized. Their attacks are more precise and devastating. They told me that though this benefits syndicate members this method of dominating the marketplace was below them. I asked them if they had any control over planning the routes for syndicate caravans. To my luck, one of the group members did. I am going to use them as a resource tomorrow. I have a plan that should begin to solve this mystery.

When Kosai finished reading the journal entries the words faded and the page blank. While he felt both relieved and surprised to know that there were members within the syndicate that seemed to have a heart, frustration and anger seethed in his mind.

Perhaps we need to widen our search, Kosai thought.

"It seems that all of your trouble started with Theo," the book wrote. "Perhaps he has some information locked away in his office that would be of use."

How would I get into his office and plant the book? Kosai thought. Kosai was the only one who could read it, but it would look suspicious finding a book with no words. Wait. Patience, Kosai thought again. He continued to stare at the book, though not looking for answers. Be still, let Theo make the mistake. He thought back to his combat training and sparring. No one was perfect and everyone made mistakes, the Captain taught him that many times. He closed the book and put into his shirt, placed his hands behind his head, and looked up at the ceiling.

Even though he could feel his strength returning to him, he knew he needed to rest before this evening's mission. As he began to dose off, he thought more and more about Mearto and the smell that surrounded her. He was sure now, after reading the journal entries that she was the one that healed him. But why was her smell stronger in certain situations? He knew he could trust her, and that she would earn the Captain's trust after this evening, but there was still something about her that made Kosai curious. It was something about the smell. It waxed and waned and was rarely constant. Combining that with her strong will, direct demeanor, and independent attitude, she seemed very distant. Kosai recalled when she had taken him by the collar of his uniform and shoved him against the bookcase in her office. He hadn't thought of it then, but she also hid a vast amount of strength in her figure. He could feel it pressing against him. Kosai was jolted awake as Mearto tapped his arm and leaned down next to his ear.

"It's time to go," she whispered. "I was able to buy some clothes for you to wear for tonight. Don't wear shoes. As soon as you are outside rub some dirt in your face. Walk with a hunch. Keep your head down and don't make eye contact with anyone. You know where to meet us." She laid a soiled brown shirt and torn green trousers at the foot of the bed and left. Kosai quickly changed and placed the book inside his shirt, searching for a pocket for the book to rest in. Not finding an inside pocket, he tucked the book between his left hip and the waistline of the trousers. He tied the trousers tighter and let the shirt flow over the waist, concealing the book. Lastly, he put on the amulet the Captain gave him and tucked it under his shirt. Once outside, he rubbed dirt on his face and walked towards the fountain with a hunch. Mearto was staring into the water at the fountain. A beggar, layered with rags, dirt, grime and soot sat next to Mearto, staring down Capitol road. He had a metal dish in front of him. Kosai covered his mouth at the smell and looked into the water.

"Your father has more skill than I first thought," Mearto said. Kosai looked at her confused. Then a half second later, he understood.

"There is still much about him I don't know," Kosai said.

"Mmm... perhaps it will stay that way too, until you open your eyes," the beggar said. His voice was like gurgling mud. He picked up his pan and stood up, looking like a pile of refuse that grew into a mountain. The smell intensified as he reached his full height. Kosai looked into the man's eyes, past the dirt and grime, and smiled. He also noticed that the Captain tucked his left arm inside of his disguise hiding the injury and medical service that was received.

"Impressive," Mearto said with a half-smile and took a half step back. "I didn't recognize you at first. How did you manage such a wretched costume?"

"I paid a beggar my size a few coins for his clothes. He seemed mad enough that if he were to ever tell someone that the Captain bought his clothes, no one would believe him."

"Fair enough," Mearto said. "Don't follow to close now. We are going to take the Northwest Interior and then turn on to West Interior. We will walk past the Syndicate Schools on East Interior. Once we arrive, I will look over my shoulder and signal for you to approach."

Kosai thought it was strange for the Captain to be taking orders in such a direct manner. It seemed beneath the Captain, but when he said, "Yes ma'am," Kosai dismissed the thoughts for the time and stuck close to the Captain until Mearto walked off.

"Why did you let her take control of the situation? You should be the one in charge," Kosai said quietly.

"She needs to feel comfortable and in control of this situation. She seems like an intelligent enough of a woman, and if I was in her place, I would suspect myself of foul play. I know what the routes are the morning of the caravans, and who knows, maybe to her, I can get a word out to some nomads before we arrive. She needs to know that we are on the same side and if that means taking an order or two from her, then so be it."

The Captain watched Mearto disappear into the street before he started to follow her. Kosai was right next to him, staring at the ground, back hunched. The Captain held to the sides of the street, walking behind beggars and other civilians. His walk was more of a hobble. His body was hunched over and he had a violent limp to his right side. He grunted and spat often. At times, Kosai forgot that he was following his Captain.

In a few minutes, they arrived at the place, seeing Mearto stand outside a home with a syndicate logo above the door. Cautiously, she walked up to the Captain and Kosai.

"I just visited with one of the members letting them know I had two companions that needed to be a part of tonight's meetings. The syndicate member at the door said he would talk to his boss and then be back with a yes or no. If anyone asks, you two were in my confidence in the beginning and anonymity is your main priority." The Captain nodded.

The door opened. The man filled the doorway with his body. His skin was as black as ash. Every inch of his body seemed to be muscles. He folded his arms over his chest and looked down the road in both directions.

"He says that if you trust them, he trusts them, so be quick before he changes his mind," the syndicate guard said softly and deeply.

Mearto, Kosai, and the Captain shuffled into the residence. A large, square wooden table was in the center of the room, taking up half the floor space. Burning candles sat in candlesticks attached to the walls. Suspended from the ceiling was a metal chandelier. A large map of the desert was laid out on the table, inkwells on each corner holding the map in place. Mearto's contact sat across the table on a stool. His face was covered with a golden cloth and he was dressed in a brown-hooded robe. All that was visible were two eyes in candle light. Behind the syndicate member was a desk, with drawers on either side. Papers and spare quills covered the desk and stuck out from the drawers. The syndicate member who greeted them continued to stand by the door. Kosai and the Captain stood on either side of Mearto a little way back from the table.

"What part do your companions play in our situation?" the man behind the desk asked. Mearto bowed and pointed to Kosai with an open hand.

"This young man is an informant of mine. He has seen the patterns we talk about, and he has ears that seem to penetrate walls. His life is without price to me." She then pointed to the Captain. "This beggar has eyes that can pierce any mist. He sees everything that goes on in the city." The Captain snorted and grumbled some unintelligible talk. He looked around the room, never looking the syndicate member in the eyes. "Together, they provide me with information in the city, and with what we have discussed, the information you provide may be able to refine their talents."

"Fair enough," the syndicate member said.

The Captain shuffled up to the map, snorting and grumbling. He stared at the map through one eye, tilting his face down, and then turned and looked at the map with his other eye. Mearto slowly walked up to the table and Kosai followed. Mearto cleared her throat and stared at the door man. The door man flushed and brought her a stool. The room began to fill with the aroma of lilac and sea salt.

"Have you or your friends come across any helpful information relating to the attacks since our last visit?" the syndicate member asked.

"No," Mearto said. "Everything has come to a standstill."

"And for good reason too," the syndicate member said. He looked down at the map and traced some of the routes with his finger, seeming to look for something. "The south winds bring a chill from the ocean, and that, combined with the heat of the desert, is almost deadly. Caravans move slowly and the nomads don't move at all. Sandstorms kick up easily and the hot air and crisp breeze causes illness. But beyond that, we do have a few more developments." He continued to look at the map.

"Go on," Mearto said. Her smell filled the room.

"Recently, Aldair, Master of Inventories, one of the higher ups, ordered some private cargo. According to the documents, his private shipment contained grain, cloth, ink, and a few spices; regular commodities for trading. As I and my counterparts analyzed the shipment, we concluded that even if Aldair were to sell those goods at a two-hundred percent markup, he would still suffer a loss. He paid quite the coin to the government caravan drivers to ensure its safety and rumor has it that the Captain personally looked into it."

"There was something else in that shipment," Mearto said softly, now looking at the map.

"Exactly, and there hasn't been a word said about what it was. We have been watching inventory levels for quite some time, and over the past few months, inventory levels on grains has been growing ten percent per week. It isn't that there aren't people who are buying—it's that those who control the flow of goods, such as Aldair and Thuane don't want to sell. We've wondered if that means that they are simply storing it."

"Why would they be storing commodities like that?" asked Kosai.

"It's almost as if they are preparing for something," said the syndicate member.

"What could they be preparing for?" asked Mearto

"War," the Captain said in a guttural tone.

"I don't think I follow," the syndicate member said.

"War!" the Captain said louder. "Despair, chaos, starvation, people killing people, people eating people."

"Who would attack us? The cities need each other. There haven't been any threats from Caite for decades. No one could march an army across the Broken Blades and then into the desert. It's ludicrous. No one would attack us."

"No," Kosai said, his eyes growing wide as he realized what the Captain implied. "Not from the outside anyway..." The syndicate member looked at him curiously.

"I think what my friends are saying is that perhaps the Three Brothers are preparing for an uprising, a revolt if you will," Mearto said.

"Because the government caravans aren't bringing enough food," Kosai said slowly. "The city will be in chaos, and the syndicate will be able to swoop in, charge exorbitant amounts, more so than they do already, feed the people, and make out filthy rich with every single coin, and every valuable item in this city." The syndicate member looked back at the maps. Kosai looked down and then noticed why the Captain was studying it so closely.

The map showed all the trade routes ever used and was littered with black and red "X" marks and dates. Each mark was where a caravan was attacked. The black seemed to be the government caravans, as there were more of them, and the red were the syndicate caravans. As far as Kosai knew, there was no such map in existence. From Kosai's experience he knew that the map was correct. Black "X" after black "X" brought back memories of ambushed caravans and fallen guards. Having a map like the one on the table was evidence, hard evidence, that the government caravans were being attacked far more often than the syndicate caravans.

"Over the past years, we have been watching the caravan attacks, and when we started, each attack appeared to be completely random, favoring neither syndicate nor government caravans. Lately though, the odds of a safe caravan have shifted in favor of the syndicate and worse. The attacks are becoming so common, up until this weather, that we could predict confidently which government caravan was going to be attacked, where it was going to be attacked, and when. Yet the attacks on the syndicate caravans still remain random."

Kosai thought about that last comment for a moment and looked down at the map again. The marks for government caravans were not concentrated, nor did they seem to have a visual pattern. In his mind, he could see how, according to the dates, that this syndicate member was able to predict an outcome of a caravan drive.

"What are you thinking young man?" the syndicate member asked. Kosai looked at Mearto and she nodded.

"If the syndicate is contracting nomads, why are they still being attacked? That leads to two conclusions. Either the syndicate has formed a contract with a small group, which would allow for quick travel, or someone else has. There is no way a large group would be able to traverse that much ground unseen," he said pointing at the areas between sequential X marks. If the syndicate was contracting the nomads, why not buy off others who would attack? That would be too obvious a trail to find. What if the syndicate wasn't behind it to begin with? Then how did they know trouble was coming? Kosai thought.

"Your boy's gears are turning," the syndicate member said.

"He is a smart one. That's why I have him. Thank you for your information. I hope our next meeting will be more fruitful for you."

The syndicate member bowed, and Mearto returned the favor. The door man showed them out and the three stood in the night air. The cold winds snapped above them. Even with the cold wind, sweat poured from the Captain's face from all the layers of clothing and physical effort he took in his hobble. Combining the grime and dust of the city with his disguise, he looked more like a pile of sludge than a man.

"Thank you," he said before hobbling off towards the Barracks. Mearto grabbed Kosai's arm gently.

"I am going back the way we came," she said softly. "I will meet you inside the school entrance. Do not follow me." With that, she was off.

Kosai mapped out the city in his mind, thinking how he would get back to the school as quickly as possible, but without following her. The longer way would have been to walk East Interior until he came to Interior Road, and then up through Southeast Interior. Kosai was not in the mood to walk that far and he thought of a shortcut.

Between the School of the Faye and the Capital building was a dense concentration of homes. Children and adults trickled out from the cement houses onto Capital Road to get water and then receded back into the maze of cement. Kosai figured that there was a way to get from Capital road to East Interior through the maze, he just had to find it.

Within the hour, he was at the entrance to the development. He looked up at the stars, found a southwestern heading, and walked on. The streets wound together like a twisted pile of yarn. Paths doubled back, turns led to dead ends, and roads led to ten foot walls that Kosai couldn't traverse over, though he tried once or twice. After an hour, Kosai found himself back at the entrance to East Interior.

A beggar sat on the corner with his pan in front of him. He was dressed in worn out rags and stunk like fermented sewage.

"Kosai!" the beggar gurgled to him. Kosai looked at the beggar, and recognized the Captain, especially the way he barked his name.

"Sir?" asked Kosai.

"That voice is hard to break," the Captain said and then cleared his throat. Kosai went to his side and sat next to him. "I have an order for you. What happened in there was not what the Seer explained to me. Tonight, is the night the Seer saw. Mearto will go back to the syndicate tonight, right where we were. Follow her again without being seen. Watch her closely and remember every word she says. Do you understand? I will be here until you return."

"Yes sir," Kosai said. He stood up and was about to run again.

"Oh, and boy!" the Captain called again, taking the voice of a beggar. "Straight ahead, the third street on the left, lead ya right to the Capitol road."

Kosai nodded and ran. In fifteen minutes, he was back in the pavilion, drinking from the fountain. As soon as Kosai cooled off and caught his breath he walked into the School. Mearto was waiting for him just inside the doorway.

"What took you so long?" she asked angrily.

"I got lost," he said. Mearto shook her head and sighed.

"You weren't followed, were you?" Kosai shook his head. "Good. We will talk more tomorrow. I hope that I have earned your Captain's trust as well." Kosai shrugged. "In any event, it's late. You need to run to bed. If a revolt, war, whatever is coming, perhaps it would be best to dive into the Awakening with both feet. Experience is the best teacher, even if it can kill you." She kept her eyes locked with Kosai's for a moment and then stormed off towards her office. Kosai followed closely behind. As they walked, Theo walked briskly past them. Kosai looked at him as he passed and made eye contact. Theo cringed and then continued to his office. Kosai shivered.

"That was Theo," Mearto whispered quickly, "the one who wants to kill you."

While Mearto walked, Kosai listened to her footsteps, the gate of her stride and the sound of her shoes. As he turned into the dormitory, he stopped and memorized the sound of her walk.

Confident that he could recognize it, he turned his thoughts back to the school. He thought about Theo and Shàn and the attempt on his life. Perhaps there was a letter, a scrap of paper, some evidence that could prove that he was behind it, but what would it prove? Who would he tell? Kosai still didn't feel comfortable trusting Mearto, especially after what the Captain told him.

The leather bindings of the book dug into his hip. He took it out and opened it to the sixth page as he walked to his bunk. Kosai licked his thumb and pressed it into the page.

"That room you were in held some good information you will want to look into," the book wrote. Kosai was about to speak, but instead stuck one finger on the page and closed the book, his finger acting like a book mark. He left the dormitory and quickly walked to the mess hall. No one would be within earshot there. Once there, he made sure that no one was tending to any last-minute dishes, or fixing themselves a late snack. Satisfied that he was alone, he opened the book again.

"How long did it take you to acquire the information in Mearto's office, and in the room, we were just in?"

"It only took a few moments. When you request information, it takes time to filter through things."

"Could you tell me which office is Theo's?" The book drew up a map of the school and a circle around his office.

Kosai closed the book. Access to Theo's office and a few moments were all he needed. Kosai thought hard about what he would do. He didn't know how to pick a lock, and walking into the office alone could prove disastrous. He thought of a simple yet effective plan. He would be in the corridor next to the Teacher's offices in the clothing he was in and wait for Theo's door to open, slide in--keeping the door open-- and ask him about his Awakening. A simple, non-threatening question and it would give just enough time for the book to collect every ounce of information in his office, but not enough time for Theo to do anything. If anyone asked what he was wearing, he could simply say he was doing some training. And if anyone asked him what he was doing, he could say he was waiting for Mearto, which wasn't quite a lie.

He tucked the book between his trousers and waist, walked to the Teacher's corridor, and leaned his back against a wall. He listened to the teachers' feet and voices as they walked by. Most talked quietly about methods of instruction or about the economy of Noiknaer. Kosai heard his name mumbled with some other conversation and looked around. There were a few teachers' voices coming up from the West Stair, and others from further down the hall. Then he heard someone in Theo's office speak in a masculine, airy tone. Kosai walked closer to the conversation.

"The Dark One has attacked again and he seems to be more aggressive. I have seen the Captain injured, Theo, but never broken." The speaker's voice shook evenly as he spoke. Kosai figured he was an older gentleman, possibly the age of the matron.

"Adding to that, I don't agree with what the Seer has prophesied about Kosai," This voice was deeper and more confident, but Kosai wasn't sure who it belonged to. "And you are forgetting to consider the other prophecy about Kosai. This whole school has!"

"I have not forgotten." Kosai recognized the third voice as Daius, the Head Teacher. "But you must see my side. I would rather have Kosai and that Tormentor, as the Seer calls him, against us rather than the Dark One. Not a one of us can kill him except Kosai for whatever reason. When he succeeds, he will turn against us. We will deal with him then."

Kosai heard enough and walked away from the door. He solved one mystery about why members of the school would want him dead, but still needed to find the betrayer of caravan routes. The Captain had ordered Kosai to follow Mearto, and he hoped that what she would say to the syndicate contact she visited with earlier, would be enough to prove that she was the culprit.

He walked towards the entrance and out into the pavilion. As he drank from the fountain, he thought about the other portion of his future.

Did the Captain know about that? Kosai stared at his reflection in the water. Black whiskers and scruff grew in patches on his face, not thick enough to grow a proper beard or any other style of facial hair. Dirt, sweat, and the dust of the city made for good camouflage. Knowing where Mearto was going to be, he made his way to the syndicate office. He kept his head down and his back slouched as he walked slowly along the sides of the road.

The night was quiet and Kosai thought more and more about what the Head Teacher and Theo had said. There was only one possible reason that Kosai would turn against the school, and that was if the traitor was within those walls. Kosai smiled. He was close now, and perhaps the Captain's assignment would prove fruitful.

When he reached the syndicate office, he walked into a tight alleyway, wide enough for one person to walk through and listened to peoples' footsteps. Kosai stared at the ground, his body concealed in shadow, and thought about his next move.

If Mearto was the traitor, and he exposed her, why was she preparing him for the Awakening? Did she even care about defeating the Dark One, or was that all a lie? Kosai thought back to his brief encounter with the Dark One. Mearto told him that she wanted him alive and believed that he was the one to kill the Dark One. As soon as that was done, would she turn and try to kill him just like Theo and Daius?

That was why Captain wanted a report. He'll know what to do, Kosai decided.

Kosai waited for a few more hours and then heard Mearto coming down the road. Her strides were calm and purposeful. He looked up at her as she passed by him. She glanced down the alley way. Kosai felt a pang of fear shock his chest, afraid that he was discovered, but Mearto never slowed.

She knocked on the syndicate door. The door was opened and she was let in. Slowly, Kosai snuck along the wall, keeping his head well below the window and sat next to the door.

A beggar was walking down the street and sat across from the syndicate office. The beggar motioned at Kosai with a closed fist, and began to grunt and grumble... loudly.

"N'ya you, get, get. No reason!" the beggar hollered. Kosai figured he was telling him to get away from the door. Kosai shook his head and pulled out his three-pronged amulet and put a finger to his lips. The beggar nodded and hushed instantly. Kosai looked down both sides of the road.

"Have you brought what we asked you for?" a syndicate member said, though it wasn't the same one that Kosai and the Captain met earlier in the night.

"Yes," Mearto replied. "The next caravan is leaving at dawn, as usual, and is headed South by Southeast, towards Port Rasmú. It will be a larger one, twenty-five wagons ordered to deliver wheat and sugar from the north, and pick up lumber from the west."

"We will do all that we can, but no promises."

"I understand," Mearto said. Kosai heard the stools shuffling and ducked back into the alleyway just in time to see his teacher bow at the door. She had no bag of coins, no fine jewelry, save for the syndicate ring on her finger. When the door was closed, she took a few steps past the syndicate office, leaned against the wall and cried softly, a few tears rolling down her face.

"No, not here," she said to herself and walked further. Kosai waited, listening to her sob and sniffle. Seeing no reward for her treachery, and the reaction after giving up the route information, Kosai decided to follow and see where she would go. If she went back to the school, Kosai could take Capital road and meet the Captain on Interior. If she went elsewhere, Kosai would have more to report.

Carefully, Kosai followed her, blending in with the shadows and alleyways. The streets were mostly empty. Kosai stayed far enough away to not be noticed, yet close enough to watch her turn. She walked on West Interior, turned on Market Street, turned north on Interior, and then walked down West Road. She walked up to the gate and waited.

The gate won't open for one person. What is she doing? Kosai thought. She turned back and headed straight for Kosai. Kosai, calmly and controlled, walked into an alley way and sat, waiting for Mearto to walk by. She was walking closer. Her steps were not the weak walk she demonstrated when she cried. She was walking with purpose again. Walk on, walk on, walk on, Kosai thought repeatedly. Mearto stopped at the alley way and looked right at Kosai.

"Kosai," Mearto hissed. She paused and shook her head. "You heard every word?" Her voice was quiet, broken and weak, as if she were fighting back more tears. Kosai didn't respond and sat huddled in the alley way, hoping that her use of his name was a tactic to see if he was there.

Walk on, walk on, walk on! Kosai continued to think.

"Kosai, I can see you in the alley way, come out this moment!"

Kosai stayed perfectly still, coughed up some phlegm from his throat and looked at her.

"You got the wrong person, miss, aint no Kosai 'ere," he said, trying to imitate the voice of a beggar. Mearto sighed heavily and walked into the alley way, grabbed Kosai by his shirt and lifted him onto his feet. The tears were gone in her eyes and she spoke firmly.

"You heard every word." She wasn't asking a question.

Kosai paused.

"Yes." There was a silence between them and Mearto let go of his shirt. "Why?"

"I can't explain that right now. There is more to this than you could comprehend. I will explain everything tomorrow."

"No." Kosai stood straight and tall. "You speak now or I place you under arrest." Kosai pulled the amulet from his shirt and hung it in front of Mearto. "Those guards on the tower know what his amulet is, and would come at my word. You will tell me what exactly is going on."

"I can't," she said firmly," I can't," she repeated but her voice broke. Tears began to fall from her eyes. "But I can show it to you." She sniffed and wiped her eyes. Kosai stared at her.

"Where would we go?"

"West into the desert," said Mearto. "I promise that no harm will come to you. Remember, I want you to live." She began to speak with more command. "If I wanted to kill you, I could have done so at any time, and made it look like an accident." Kosai glared at her, realizing the truth of her words, and then nodded.

Kosai swore under his breath and was about to walk up to the gate tower, but before he could take his first step, the air filled with the scent of lilac and sea salt. The smell was so strong that he almost fell unconscious. Mearto grabbed his arms and held him upright. The two guards in the gate tower fell on the platform with a thud, and snored.

"What I am about to show you, you must not speak to anyone else except your Captain. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Kosai said with a yawn, "but what about the gate and the guards?"

"Hold on," Mearto said. She hugged Kosai tightly. Kosai wrapped his arms around her. Her arms wrapped around his back and his hers. He could feel and hear her breathe as they rose into the air.

Before he could speak, they were up in the air, floating over the wall. They landed softly on the other side of the gate and let go of each other. Kosai's body tingled and sizzled as if he had been pricked with a thousand hot needles. His cheeks flushed.

"The guards will wake up, thinking that each dosed off for only a few moments. They won't remember a thing. I don't like doing what I did, but it's the only way. We must be quick now. Follow me."

Kosai watched her walk into the night.

"I've got a job to do," he whispered to himself. He shook off the thoughts of the embrace and followed her.
CHAPTER 13

They walked along the dunes near where Kosai was attacked by the Dark One. Kosai had an uneasy feeling about the night, reached to his hip for his sword, and grasped at air. He felt naked without his weapons and he tried to ignore the thoughts of ambush. In his paranoia, he thought he could sense a tribe of nomads atop every dune.

"Where are we going?" Kosai asked. Mearto was silent and stared ahead.

After a few more hours of fast-paced walking, the terrain flattened out. Kosai saw a camp about a half mile ahead. There were plenty of small fires, but no wagons. Mearto continued ahead until she was at the edge of the camp. Kosai recognized the people instantly. They were nomads. One of the men on the outer fires stood up and whistled a long pattern of short, sharp bursts. Others stood and echoed the call. The man that stood turned towards Mearto, and then looked at Kosai.

"You have brought another with you?" he asked. He was about Kosai's height and build, but spoke quietly. He wore black, baggy pants, but no shirt. A long scar was etched from his left shoulder down to his right hip. Kosai had to keep himself from gasping when he recognized the scar: it was a sign of his signature attack. Suddenly his mind was filled with the memory of the battle with this nomad.

Kosai was escorting a caravan and the group was setting up camp for the night. The nomadic tribes snuck around the dunes, hiding in the long shadows just before nightfall. When camp was set, and dinner served, the nomads snuck closer to the group, staying on the edge of darkness. The suon were spooked. A driver stood up to tend to the beasts. From the shadows, a knife was thrown, just missing the driver. Kosai drew both of his swords and turned just in time.

The nomad was about to land an overhead blow. Kosai turned, letting the strike fall to his left and then batted the sword down into the ground with one of his own swords. With his other, he landed an upward strike across nomad's body, but it wasn't fatal.

"He's here to help," Mearto said, and Kosai was brought back to the present. "The problem is becoming too large to solve on my own." The nomad nodded and led them to the center of the camp. There, another nomad stood. A syndicate mark was tattooed on his neck.

"Mearto, I am glad to see you again," he said.

"And I, you, Iserum," Mearto said with a slight bow. "I have brought a friend who can help us, my pupil actually. The problem is growing larger by the day. I can't do this on my own anymore."

"And what is his name?" Iserum asked, glaring at Kosai. Mearto was about to speak, but Kosai placed a hand on her shoulder. They locked eyes for a few moments and Mearto placed her hand on Kosai's. Mearto shook her head and removed Kosai's hand from her shoulder.

"I will introduce you," she mouthed and then stepped forward. She was quiet, but only for a moment. Kosai looked around camp. Infants coughed and fussed in their mother's arms. They were thin and frail, weaker than any beggar or gate prisoner Kosai ever saw. Sand crusted the corners of women's eyes from tears that had fallen and dried.

"He is unarmed, and has killed or injured many of your people," she started. Kosai could see Iserum glaring and reddening in the firelight. "He is known as the Wolf of the Capital barracks. He is Kosai." The camp murmured with gasps of hushed anger and fright. Some nomads drew swords that were at their sides and started to approach him. Iserum waved them back. "Again, he is unarmed. I brought him hear."

"He does not know, does he?" Iserum asked Mearto. Mearto shook her head.

"He knows only a part of the whole, but your story he has not heard. I could not tell him. I cannot tell him. And until he knows, he is of no use to us." Iserum nodded and sat back down. The tribesman that started to approach Kosai sheathed their weapons and sat in their respective circles. Kosai and Mearto sat down again with Iserum.

"Kosai, you are brave to come here," Iserum said. "Your purpose in the past has been muddled, and even as we speak, you are being betrayed by the Capital you serve. I am sure you know now that the routes are being betrayed. But they are not being betrayed by my people within your walls. This is the part you must understand. This is the part that I could not tell your Captain because it is so unbelievable. But first I must explain our predicament."

"You met the Captain?" Kosai asked, shocked.

"Yes, I will explain. Some of us, like Mearto and other teachers she works with, had an intimate understanding of the Faye. Few of us were Awoken secretly by her, and she has taught us many things. Deep within the desert, we have made springs and many an oasis. Those of us that were Awoken channeled the Faye to create Living Earth. Our gardens were plentiful and beautiful and we traded amongst ourselves. We grew prosperous and other tribes joined ours. Some did not and stayed to ambushing caravans, hating the cities around them. Those were the nomads that you defended against and I do not hold you for your actions against them.

"Two months ago, our Conduits began to disappear and were found later dead and dried, as if all the blood was taken from them. Not soon after, our Living Earth became black. When we told Mearto of our trouble, she told us that the Dark One was taking the life out of our gardens. We tried to repair them and attempted to protect our Conduits but to no avail. The Dark One hunted each of them down and killed them. Now we are starving and must take to thievery and murder to survive."

"Why not move to Linnouse?" Kosai asked. "There is work there, and plenty of food." Iserum shook his head.

"The mines in Linnouse, though plentiful with gold, and the pay in bread, are dangerous. People talk about the beauty and bounty that is found there, but not too many talk about the dead that are trapped in the mines. Not too many talk of the people who come out with broken backs and lungs filled with dirt and grime. Not too many talk about the children who wait day after day to go into the mines as soon as one of the other children dies. No. The mines are plentiful with gold, but I will not subjugate my people to death in the ground. We have been living off what little we can get from caravans and hunting. But it is not enough."

"So, are we to give what food we have to you and your tribe while people within our own walls starve?" Kosai challenged. Mearto sighed and lowered her head.

"I can understand your frustration, but there is more to this story still," Iserum said calmly. "As our people continued to starve and die in their sleep, a man came to us, unarmed as you are, with a proposition. He gave us route information and told us that our reward would be whatever we could take from the caravans, as well as enough food to last us the month if we succeeded. I took my hunters and we went to the place as he directed, not far from here. Your Captain was there and brought down a dune that we stood on. Single handedly, he forced us to surrender. Defeated, your Captain inquired of me how I knew where the caravan would go. I told him to look within his own walls."

"Who was the man that told you of the routes?" Kosai leaned in close, his eyes focused on Iserum.

"He was not a tall man and walked weakly. He seemed older, almost too old for his age. He would not give a name, but Mearto believes she knows him, and by the look on your face, you know him as well."

"The Seer," Kosai said coldly, he looked over at Mearto and she nodded.

"That is why I cannot and do not trust him," she said. Kosai stared at the fire, thinking back to Mearto's private meeting with the syndicate groups, giving them the route information freely. He thought about how the syndicate contracted a private delivery with the government caravan. The pieces were not fitting together.

"Why did you betray our routes to the syndicate?" Kosai asked, looking up at Mearto. "And maybe the Seer did bribe this tribe, but what about all the other attacks? And what does the syndicate have to do with anything anyway?"

"The syndicate group that I visit knows the troubles these people face," Mearto said to Kosai. "I have gone on their caravans before as a passenger and stopped here for the night to relate the same story to you and-"

"They could be using you," Kosai interrupted and glared at her. "And they could easily be betraying the routes! Tell me straight, here and now, why you told them what you did."

"Protection and time," she said. "This new trading company will go on routes where the government caravans will not be. They have already been approved for a transit license and will be hiring some of the Capital Guard to assist them as well as us in making sure these people are fed until you can destroy Vilheim. Tomorrow they are renouncing their association with the syndicate."

"But if they start their own firm, the syndicate will be sure to run them out or kill them," Kosai replied, kicking at the sand. "It has been tried in the past and has failed."

"The point isn't to make money," Iserum said. "The point is to buy you time to go through your own Awakening. Once he is destroyed, we will be able to feed ourselves. If we cannot, our tribe will and must raid the caravans and we will allow ourselves to be contracted by whomever, or whatever promises us food."

"This is why you must live, and this is why you must kill Vilheim soon," Mearto said. Kosai looked at her, and then back to Iserum. He looked at the syndicate tattoo on his neck.

"What affiliation did you have with the syndicate?"

"Before our living-earth was destroyed, I was a guide of the syndicate. They paid well and I could take portions of grain, seed, and other goods. I left their service when my people began to die."

"And how did you and Mearto originally meet?"

"Years ago, one of my children began to grow things out of the desert, simple things like flowers and saplings. It wasn't long after that when Mearto appeared and Awoke our child and taught her how to make Living Earth. She was killed last month."

"I'm sorry," Kosai said mournfully. He had other questions to ask but thought it was inappropriate considering the loss that Iserum suffered. Mearto, seeming to know his question, broke the silence.

"Another responsibility I have within the school is to find those that show promise or are naturally attune to the Faye. I find those individual by asking around for those who might be mentally disturbed; people who say they have seen their children do things that seem impossible, for example. I go to hospitals, apothecaries, and alchemists as main sources of information. A caravan, a while back, came across a patch of living earth. The caravan drivers and guards didn't know it at the time. There were small fruit trees bearing fruit, grasses and soft, brown soil, but there was no water. I realized it was living earth and found the nomads soon after. I Awakened those with promise, and the nomadic attacks decreased significantly after that."

Kosai nodded in satisfaction. He was still concerned about why the syndicate members did not tell Mearto about their plans to form their own faction while he and the Captain were present. If there was going to be a break off from the syndicate, they would not succeed. It had been tried, Kosai knew, many times with complete failure and bankruptcy. The Three Brothers were too tactical with their assets and were able to steal contracts by providing better goods at lower prices. The only reason, then, was as Iserum said, to buy Kosai time before the tribe had to resort to ambushing caravans.

"The Three Brothers is preparing for something as well," Mearto continued. "Whether it is an uprising, or a food shortage, or what, we aren't sure. We are also unsettled about the fact that they can see a disaster coming. I suspect they are the ones behind it."

"You are wrong," Iserum said. "They are just intelligent people. The situation in Noiknaer is not improving, especially with your Seer betraying you. When people go hungry, they fight, just as we will if Kosai fails. The Three Brothers is not behind the revolt but see signs of trouble brewing and are taking proper precautions." He smiled. "I may have learned a few things while I was in their service."

"Your words are comforting," Mearto said. Dawn was approaching and the night was beginning to fade into day. "We must return to our city. Rest assured that we will prepare Kosai, and he will be successful. Give him time." Iserum stood, bowed slightly to Mearto and nodded to Kosai.

"Our faith is in you Kosai, do not fail us," Iserum said as he and Mearto began to walk back to the city. The trip back to Noiknaer was done at brisk walk.

"You've known this whole time that the Seer was the one betraying the routes, haven't you?" Kosai asked.

"The Seer is cunning and manipulative. I've assumed he was behind it, but not until recently were those assumptions validated. But I still don't know why. How would he benefit? What is his motive? The Three Brothers has nothing to do with the betrayed routes. There is only one other group in Noiknaer that holds interests in government caravans." Kosai looked down at the ground and then back at the city, it soft amber glow disappearing as the sky grew brighter.

"I can think of three: your school, the Barracks, and the Council," Kosai said.

"Yes, but which one would like to see the caravans fail?"

Kosai was silent again, thinking about the Barracks and the people he worked with. Each member of the escort had a personal interest in protecting the caravan, whether if it was for the wages, or keeping their families fed. Besides that, the Captain was the only one in the Guard who knew what the caravan routes were. His father had lectured him many times on the importance of protecting caravans.

"Is there any way that the school or the Seer would benefit from the ambushed caravans?"

"No. Not unless someone was paying them. The school is self-sustaining. We have fruit, fresh water, and living-earth in the Oasis." Mearto was silent again. Kosai looked at the city. Some of the government caravans were leaving, the suon pulling the wagons across the cool sand.

"So that leaves the Council. But why would the council betray its own routes? That doesn't make any sense."

"I'm not sure. It wasn't until yesterday that I figured the Council was with the Seer in betraying the routes. If you can, contact your Captain and tell him what we have discovered. Perhaps he can find out the council's motive. That will give us time to focus on your Awakening."

Once back at the city, Kosai went in search of the Captain. It wasn't until mid-morning that Kosai found him, still sitting in the same place, dressed like a beggar with his metal pan in front of him. The sweat and morning sun made him smell even more like moldy and fermented sewage. Kosai sat next to him, trying not to breathe the repugnant aroma.

Kosai gave his report about the Seer and the Council, about the nomads and the living-earth, how Vilheim depleted their resources, how Iserum had met with the Captain, and what he meant when he said to search within the walls of the city. Finally, he related Mearto's meeting at the small syndicate office and their plans to start their own transport company to buy Kosai time to prepare.

"Is that all?" the Captain asked, a tone of disgust in his voice.

"Not yet. There is another prophesy that the Seer released. He Saw me, with another they named as the Tormentor, standing against the School. They are going to tolerate me until Vilheim is dead, but after that... I don't know." Kosai felt a numbing, paralyzing feeling tingling in his gut and spreading through his body like venom.

"I see," the Captain said. He grabbed his pan, stood and looked at Kosai. He didn't say anything for a short time but stared at him. He placed his grimy hand on Kosai's cheek. "You are my only son, but you are also my best student and newest lieutenant. I will always be first and foremost, your father, secondly your commanding officer. As both, I must ask, do you feel that your life is in immediate danger from anyone at the school?"

"No sir. I believe they won't act until Vilheim is defeated." The Captain nodded and removed his hand and looked down at the ground and then at his son.

"Do you believe the Seer's prophecies? Do you have any other evidence?"

Kosai placed his hand on his side and felt the book tucked under his shirt. The book told him not to reveal it to anyone. Kosai thought about what the Captain might say if he was shown the book. Was the book planted by the Seer to feed false information? Could the book be trusted? How do we now it is telling the truth?

Do I trust the book? It could be that the book was lying to him to keep him at the school, but Kosai had no evidence to prove that either.

"I haven't found anything, besides what the Seer says, that proves his viisions. I also haven't found anything to say that I am not. We do know that I injured him, which is more than anyone else can say. Based on that event alone, I do believe that it falls to me to destroy him. I will be doing some more research to find out why." The Captain nodded in agreement.

"Remember, your mission at the school is to find the betrayer of the caravan routes. As soon a case is built up, and the charges carried out, your assignment at the school will be completed." The Captain paused again and scratched his head. "You have until then to prove to me that you can kill him. If I believe that you are the only one to defeat this enemy, I will have you instructed by one of their teachers, in the Barracks, with me being present. It could be that you are going to destroy the school because the teachers are just as well tied to the betrayal as the Seer. Your investigation could bring a reformation and that could be why they want you dead.

"I will not say that I would not give you an assignment where your safety was assured, but I will say that I would not give you an assignment where death was certain. When your assignment is complete, I will have you close by me. I want to watch out for you and protect you, at least until the dust settles. My gut tells me that the betrayal is far more reaching than destroyed caravans. We have some eyes on the Council, and I have been receiving reports about their meetings every evening, either leaving messages on my desk, or in person. I will focus more of my attention there." The Captain sighed, looked off in the distance and shook his head. "Keep a close eye on the Seer. Beyond that, there isn't much more you can do. I need to find out why the Council is behind the betrayal and then remove them from power. It will take some time. Once the charges have been placed, and the evidence gathered, the Seer and the Council will pay for their crimes. Hanging I think is the punishment for treason. Until I call for you again, study hard." The Captain clapped Kosai on the shoulder, smiled and walked towards the Barracks.

Back at the school, Kosai rubbed his eyes from exhaustion. He had as much time to complete his Awakening as the new transport group could survive the desert as well as the brutal market forces of the Syndicate. Each hour that he failed at the Awakening, each moment he spent asleep or resting was another moment wasted. Each moment wasted was another caravan that didn't arrive, and more people would die.

"Today," Kosai said to himself as he walked towards Mearto's office, "no matter what." He knocked on her door and she told him to enter. Mearto was reading a book on her desk and taking notes. "You had a long night Kosai. Go get some rest and we will resume this evening."

"No. I don't care how tired I am. I can do this. I want to do this. I want to complete my Awakening today."

"Kosai," Mearto shook her head. "You aren't strong enough yet."

"I have been nearly killed, beaten to the point where all I could was hope for the pain to subside. I have trekked in the desert in full dress, and cross swords with nomads in the same day. I am aware of what I am going to face, and the only way to conquer it is to go again, and again, and again, until I complete it. You saved me once, you can save me again."

"I can't afford to lose you," she scolded.

"You won't. Today, I will succeed." Mearto stood and walked around her desk and looked at him in the eye for several moments.

"You're right. I won't lose you if you do exactly what I say," she said. She paused, gestured for Kosai to sit, and began to speak the words of the Awakening.
CHAPTER 14

In moments, Kosai was floating in the purple light, and then falling. In another moment, he was naked in the raging sea.

"No time to waste. Swim down," Mearto said. He wondered where the voice came from, hearing all around him, above the sound of the ocean, and in him as well, like a loud whisper. "Swim down!" she ordered again. Kosai took a breath and dove, kicking as hard as he could. "Relax your body." Kosai did so, letting out a little bit of air, letting his body melt and become as water. "Do not think about the swim up. You will be fine once you reach the bottom." Kosai continued to swim down, his body aching from the cold water, his chest tightening. Each kick expended so much more strength than he was expecting, but he continued kicking down, further and further. His lungs were burning to breathe, his ears felt like they were going to collapse and his eyes felt like they were about to pop out of his head.

"Plug your nose and force air through it," he heard. Kosai did so and his ears squeaked, releasing little bubbles of air. Kosai continued to swim, kicking, but shook his head and began to swim upwards again. The kicks and strokes were useless. He couldn't move. "Keep going," Mearto said. "You can now breathe the water." Kosai stayed suspended in the water and slowly opened his mouth. Water filled his lungs and he jerked around, coughing, struggling to expel the water. After a few coughs, he felt the water flow out his mouth. He took another breath of water, filling his lungs with the cold icy liquid, and then expelled the liquid, as if it were normal breathing. It didn't make sense and it hurt to breath.

"Keep going," Mearto said again. A few minutes later, Kosai stood at the bottom. At his feet was a long, bulky object wrapped in a tan canvass. The object was so large and so long that the only way to grab hold of it was to wrap his arms around its middle. His fingers barely touched as he wrapped his arms around the object. He struggled as he brought it upright, losing his grip twice before holding it tight against his chest. Once the large object was in his arms, he pushed off the sea floor and kicked towards the surface. The object slipped in his grip and he tightened his hold, finally able to interlock his fingers. As he swam up, a strange sensation came over him. The water pulled harder against his face, as if it was rushing by him and he were standing still. Two more kicks, and the sea water rushed even faster by him, as if there was a bath plug in the ocean and someone, or something, had pulled it. Three more kicks and he broke the surface.

He coughed as he inhaled. Blood that pooled in his lungs rolled out of his mouth like a pink waterfall. The object started to sink and Kosai gripped it again. Lightening streaked across the sky. In the distance, he could see the silhouette of an island against the flashes of light. Trees rocked back and forth in the wind. Kosai swam on his back, holding the object on his chest, the tail end dipping into the water between his legs. He fought to stay above the surface, catching a breath of air when he wasn't submerged. Hours seemed to pass by, and the island was just as far away as when he broke the surface. Kosai continued to kick and used his free arm to stay upright and push himself up to get a breath of air.

Exhausted, cold, and stiff, he sank in the water. Kosai tried to swim back up, but his legs felt like they were tied to steel rods. No matter how much Kosai willed, his legs would not move. He began to sink, but just a small amount before his legs hit the bottom. He squatted down and jumped as hard as he could and broke the surface. He took a quick breath and fell to the bottom again but could feel the water surface at his brow. He took a step towards the island and jumped again, taking another breath. The water was now at his shoulder. Holding the object in his arms, he walked towards the island, his legs feeling as though they were trudging through syrup.

As he came out of the water and onto the beach, he dropped the object in the sand, fell to his knees and then fell forward. The waves rushed up to his cheek and drew back sand into his mouth. Kosai laid naked, cold, and covered in sand, with the object next to him. His heartbeats sounded weak, and then forced, and then felt as if someone was striking his chest with a sledgehammer. The breaths were even, and he could hear the ocean and wind roaring behind him. As he closed his eyes, an image of the stable boy came into his mind, begging him to go to Market Street, and then seeing the boy's father, fighting for food, fighting for survival.

The next image was of other people, begging in the street, emaciated children around in the pavilion, drinking from the fountain. He thought of the nomads, threatening violence for survival if they were not fed. He then thought of the Seer, and Vilheim, each staring at him.

"You won't win," he told himself hoarsely. "Neither of you will!" The pain in his chest subsided and his breathing relaxed. Though his chest still hurt, he grabbed the object still wrapped in canvas, pulled himself to his feet, and walked further up the beach. He set the object down next to a tree, and then lay down.

Slowly, the island faded, and everything became a purple light. The next moment, he opened his eyes and saw Mearto above him. He was laying down on the floor with her cloak draped over him.

"Congratulations, you are now a conduit," she said. Kosai nodded and fell asleep.

[][][]

Kosai dreamt, or thought he dreamt, that he was back on the beach. Next to him was the object wrapped in canvas.

How do I destroy it? Kosai thought. The sand around him was wet, and he didn't have anything to start a fire with. He thought about bashing the object with a stick but thought to inspect the object first before deciding how to destroy it.

Carefully, he rolled out the canvas on the beach, leaving a long white trail of canvass behind him. When the object rolled out of the canvas, Kosai jumped back, fell, and crawled away from it like a crab. Inside the canvass was an old, bald, naked, dead man. Clumps of fetid flesh were peeled from the man as the canvas rolled off of him, leaving gaping holes in the body. Kosai crawled over to the dead man and looked at his pasty white skin. He was not a frail man, but not muscular either. His face, hands, and other parts of his skin were wrinkled like a raisin, but not sagging. He touched the man's forearm tenderly.

A pink mark was left on the arm that Kosai touched. Slowly, the pink mark grew past the dead man's shoulder and down his chest. When the pink color covered the man head to foot, the man took a deep breath. Kosai jumped back again. The figure coughed up water and then stood up. He took the canvas and threw it around his shoulders as if he had done it a thousand times.

Waveringly, he shook the sand from his body and walked back to the water. Kosai stood up and rushed towards him and tackled him, pinning him against the beach. The man fought against Kosai, trying to break his grip and punching at his face, neck and stomach. Kosai dodged what blows he could and pinned the man's throat with his forearm. The man wheezed.

"I guess you're here to kill me, aren't you?" the man said. Kosai pressed harder into his throat. The man coughed and grabbed Kosai's arm. "You won't be able to that way." He wheezed. Kosai glared at the man. "I have been sitting at the bottom of the ocean for years. Do you think a choke hold is going to kill me?" Kosai released his grip but held onto the man.

"You're going nowhere near that water," Kosai said. The man nodded. Kosai released his grip and stood.

"I wasn't going deep into the water anyway. I wanted to wash myself of this wretched sand. It's everywhere. Besides, I can't disappear back in there. Now that you have Awoken, I am bound to this island. I am bound to you until you destroy me."

Kosai watched the man closely as he removed the canvass from his body and wadded into the water, splashing his arms, face, thighs, back and chest. As soon as he finished bathing, he took the canvas from the shore and tossed into the water. He then rolled it up in his arms and walked back to Kosai. Kosai stared at the old naked man holding the canvass, and the man stared back at him.

"You don't know what to do with me do you?" the man asked. Kosai nodded. "Do you at least know what I am?" Kosai nodded again. "Well?"

"You are the only thing, person, between me and being a full conduit."

"Yes, yes, that's all true, but do you know exactly what I am? Who am I? Why was your object me? An old naked man stuck in canvas at the bottom of your sea."

"I don't know."

"Once you figure that out, you will be able to destroy me, but no sooner. You're Vilheim's bane. The Seer Saw it. Do you know why?" Kosai shook his head.

"I've been focused on too many other things to find an answer to that question," Kosai said. That question came to his mind when he first opened the book, but with the compromised trade routes, and the Awakening to go through, and other recent events and developments, the answer was not a high priority.

"Perhaps you should ask the book," the old man said. Kosai reached for it in his shirt but realized that he too was naked on the beach. "Quite a treasure that little pocket journal of yours," the old man said with a smile.

[][][]

Kosai woke with a start. He was lying on a cot in Mearto's office. Mearto was sitting in his chair, reading a book. Kosai coughed and Mearto turned to look at him.

"About time you woke up. You have been asleep for three days." Kosai tried to sit up but groaned. The room spun violently, and his vision blurred. Mearto stood from her chair and held the back of his neck. "Lay down," she said softly. "It is going to take you a couple more days until you have fully recovered. I will have some soup brought in for you in a moment." Mearto opened the door. The matron was already standing there. Kosai heard something about broth and turnips, and knew that she was speaking, but couldn't hear anything more. Mearto closed the door and sat back in the chair.

Kosai closed his eyes and must have fallen back asleep because when he opened them again, Mearto was gently pushing on his shoulder with one hand and holding a bowl of soup in the other.

"You need to sit up now," she said. Kosai did, bracing himself on the cot. Mearto put a spoon filled with chicken broth and a piece of turnip to his lips. "I almost lost you," she said as Kosai sipped the hot soup. "You were dead for a moment and I had to resuscitate you. I broke a few of your ribs in the process and had to heal you shortly after." Kosai took another sip.

"That was during the whole, you can breathe water bit?" Kosai croaked.

"Yes," she said. "What is your object?"

"An old, bald, naked man. He is taller than the Seer, and skinnier too." Kosai took another sip of soup. "He was dead when I brought him to shore, but now he is alive and knows that I am to destroy him. I think he wants to help me."

"Was the old man carrying anything?"

"Just the canvass that he was wrapped in." Mearto fed him another spoonful of soup and then sat the bowl on her desk.

"When the time comes, make sure to destroy the canvas as well. I've never heard of two objects before. And how do you know he wants to help you?"

"He said when I find out who he is and why I am Vilheim's bane, and then I can become a full conduit." Mearto handed the soup bowl to Kosai.

"Looks like you better get back to the books again. Do you have any idea on where to start?" Kosai thought of his book. He could still feel it tucked up against his hip in his waistband. It was time to get some answers from the book that held practically everything.

"I think so," Kosai said. He put the bowl of soup to his lips. Mearto put a hand up to stop Kosai and covered her mouth with the other. Kosai drained the bowl before she could say a word.

"I was going to tell you to take small sips," she said.

"I'm feeling fine," he said, wiping his mouth with his arm. "Are there any books on him in the library?"

"I'll bring a few up to you."

"I'd rather see all of them at one time," Kosai said. He knew he needed to read the book that wrote itself, but if Mearto brought up others, and demanded oral reports, he may or may not find all the information he needed. He couldn't let that hold him back. Kosai needed all the answers about the man on the beach and why he was his object.

"But there are so many other things you need to know. You still need to learn about objects, about communion, which you need to perform daily, and we must begin your real training on being a conduit. Yes, you need to learn how to destroy your object, but time also needs to be spent in other areas." Kosai lay down on the cot and placed his right arm over his eyes. The room was beginning to spin again and he felt nauseous.

"And you need to rest," Mearto said. "I can't teach you in that condition and you won't be able to give oral reports either." Kosai groaned, partially in protest, and partially because his stomach felt like it was twisting into a knot.

As Mearto called the matron for a bucket, Kosai thought more about his daily schedule to distract him from the pain in his stomach. He was relieved that he would finally be learning things of use, but he felt that most important thing to discover was why he was the only one to kill Vilheim. There were other questions rolling in his mind too. He wondered if Mearto knew the other prophesy about him. He wondered who the naked man was on the beach. He also thought about Theo.

The matron gave Mearto a bucket and placed it at Kosai's feet. A moment later, Kosai vomited into the bucket, bringing back most of the soup he drank.

"You aren't fine," Mearto said. "You may be the Wolf of the Barracks, but here, with me, you're still a pup." When Kosai was finished, she took the bucket and looked at Kosai. "I will get you another bowl of soup. Remember, small sips. Take today and rest. You have been through a lot. I'll be back to check on you in a couple of hours." Kosai nodded and lay back down on the cot and the room stopped spinning.

Mearto returned with another bowl of soup. Wisps of steam curled in the air and then disappeared. Mearto handed the bowl to Kosai and reminded him to take small sips before she left the room. Kosai took his time with his second bowl of soup, and as soon as he was finished, he took the book from his waist, opened it, licked his finger and pressed it into the pages.

"It has been a while," the book wrote. "You are now a conduit and you wish to know more about your object. I can read also that you want to know why you are the only one who can kill the Dark One, as some teachers call him. That story will take time to tell."

"I have all day," Kosai said.

"I have named the story, 'The Enlightment and Damnation of Zenith, Second Head Teacher in the School of the Faye'." The words faded into the page and new words appeared.
CHAPTER 15

Zenith was the second Head Teacher and Principal for the school of the Faye, located in the city of Anteperil. The society of conduits operated for many years without a formal organization, compiling, sharing, and teaching eachother prior to the school's origination. The first Head Teacher put together many of the rules regarding education, governance, and functionality in perpetuity. Shortly after Zenith became the second Head Teacher, he yearned to know more than what was in the books. He desired to go to the source of the Faye, which was rumoured to be in the Great Northern Wilderness and find a deeper purpose for himself and the School of the Faye. Knowing the gravity of his duties, he charged his assistant, Lucent, the Assistant to the Head Teacher, to his position for a time.

Relying completely upon the Faye for sustenance, Zenith took no food or water, but took the staff of the teachers, his tunic, trousers, and sandals. At the end of the third day of his journey, he came upon an oasis. Barbed grass, as sharp as fishing hooks, surrounded the pool. A single tree filled with gourds grew at the edge of the water. Zenith removed his tunic and placed it in front of him and crawled through the grass, towards the pool. As he reached the pool's edge, he set down his staff, dipped his hands into the water and pulled the water to his mouth to drink. But the water changed to tar and burned his lips as he drank.

Zenith, angered and exhausted, tore his left sleeve from the tunic he knelt on, and threw it into the pool. The water in the pool rippled, and as the first ripple reached the edge of the pond, the ripples behind it grew and rolled out onto the edge where Zenith knelt.

Zenith reached out again to drink the water, but the water stirred and turned away from his hands.

"I have come to commune with the Faye and learn to rely upon its powers, and I am rewarded with tar," he cried.

The water that was about him stirred and the surface was troubled for a moment. Then a figure arose out of water. The figure's height was of a man, and the girth was also of a man, but the body was of a woman. The sun shone through her and her eyes were like fire. Her voice was like a running stream. The Woman of the Water stretched pointed a translucent finger at Zenith.

"What do you seek at my pool?" she said.

"I seek water. But your pool is tar."

"This I do that you may know of the torment that is to come because of you children, for your children shall drink all the water of the earth and shall replace it with tar, and the earth shall be scorched continually by the hand of your children. They will be like briars and thorns among the people. All will thirst for relief and shall not find. All shall seek for relief and shall dry up as if in the desert sun." Then Zenith wept, and his tears streamed and fell upon the ground. And the woman of the water touched his hands, and cupped them, and placed them in the pool that he might drink.

"Woman of the Water, where should I go, knowing the misfortune which you prophesy against me."

"Go north and there you will find peace and will be taught again by my kind and will know what you should do."

Zenith asked what kind of creature the woman was. The Woman of the Water said that she was of the Faye, and that more of her kind would manifest themselves unto him and minister to him. Then the woman receded into the water, and the barbed grass receded into ground, and the pool of water mixed with the sand and turned to stone. After giving thanks, he arose and took up his tunic, and continued his sojourn northward.

Another day and night passed since Zenith drank. On the horizon was another oasis, surrounded by barbed grass and at the center near the pool was a tree that was filled with varieties of fruit. Again, Zenith removed his tunic and laid it before him, and crawled to the pool's edge. He set down his staff and dipped his hands into the pool. The water didn't stir, and its taste was sweet. Then Zenith reached to the tree and grabbed a fruit. Its smell was of summer flowers. As he bit into it, the taste became as dung.

Zenith dropped the fruit, fell to his knees and cried. Then a slight wind troubled the water, and as its ripples came to the shore, a woman formed, who was tall and most beautiful, resembling the other Woman of the Water that Zenith saw. This woman wore a robe of sunlight and her hair was of water reeds.

"Zenith, this tree is you in meaning. I show you this that you may know of the torment that is to come because of your children, for your children shall drink all the water of the earth and shall replace it with tar, and the earth shall be scorched continually by the hand of your children. They will be like briars and thorns among the people. All will thirst for relief and shall not find. All shall seek for relief and shall dry up as if in the desert sun."

Then Zenith wept, hearing again the prophecy of his posterity. As his tears touched the ground, the woman of the water plucked for him a fruit and gave to him to eat. And he ate, and the taste thereof was sweet like to honey, and filling as bread.

"Woman, what am I to do, where am I to go, now that I know this prophesy is to come upon me."

"Go northward, into the Great Wilderness, and there you will find peace and again be taught by my kind." The woman receded into the water, the barbed grass receded into ground, and the pool of water mixed with the sand and turned to stone. Zenith arose, gave thanks, and continued his sojourn northward.

After another three days, he came to the edge of the Great Wilderness and rested beneath the trees where there was shade. As he rested, he dreamt, and the dream troubled him. He saw his firstborn son, whose countenance was darker than night, but his outward appearance was bright. His son stood as if the earth was his footstool, and commanded thousands of thousands of men with his left hand, and in his right, he carried a vial filled with black liquid that sparked with purple lightning. The words of his mouth were words of power. Even the sky, earth and the sea bent to his will.

When Zenith awoke, he continued northward. The night was half gone when he came to a river. The breadth of it was half a mile, and the water rushed continually. Waves smashed and crashed on and around boulders in the middle of the river. Around the river were many trees, but the Great Wilderness was still a week's journey northward. He took off his tunic, kneeled upon it, and set his staff before him.

"I have come to venture into the Great Wilderness and have come to this river that is too treacherous to cross. Here I shall wait and ponder upon my posterity."

And when he had said these words, the river stopped and stilled so that a leaf could float upon the surface of it and not move. When Zenith looked at the river, the water rippled and a woman appeared, whose countenance, figure, and voice matched the other two women.

"What do you seek?"

"I seek and understanding of my posterity. I have seen a vision where my first born had an outward appearance that was bright and pleasing to look upon, but whose inward appearance was darker than night. In his left hand, he could command thousands of thousands of men, and in his right, he held a vile of black liquid that sparked with lightning and he stood upon the earth as if it were his footstool. Your kind told me that my children will be a scourge on the earth and will scorch it with an unquenchable fire."

"This is the meaning of your dream," said the woman of the water. "Your son will have influence both of men and of the world. Strong shall be his power, so much so, that even the Faye would bend under him. His strength will be his power and influence, for he will be loved by many, and hated by few, and his weakness will also be his power. The vial which he holds in his right hand is the source of this power. But this is not the end of what I will tell you, for there are many other things which I perceive you are seeking."

The woman showed him all things that were in the earth, both of physical and of the Faye. The night suddenly changed to midday and Zenith stood on a plateau where he could see to the far edges of the world.

"All these things are manifestations of the Faye, for each is connected to the Faye, and the Faye to it, and all things are connected to each other." As she spoke, the material world faded away and Zenith could see the Faye flowing through all things. In some things, the Faye was faint, strong enough only to support life, and in others, it was filled with the Faye, as if it were a part of it. He looked upon himself and saw that the Faye swarmed beneath his feet and only portions entered his being.

The woman pointed at his feet and said, "We wish to commune with you, so that we may teach you the things that you should know and what you are to do about your son." Zenith breathed and stilled his mind. The Faye filled his body and the woman whispered in his mind.

The woman touched his forehead with her fingers and the vision of his son appeared to him, not as a dream, but of the things that were to take place. His son was in a cellar with a dozen dead men around him. Their faces were white, and their bodies drained of their blood. There was a casket in the center of the room that was opened, and in it was the blood of the men. From that casket, a pipe led out into a mixture of glass tubes and devices. Beneath the pipes was a long flame that burned a putrid green. The door to the room was secured with four bolts, one for each edge of the door.

The child looked at the door. His face was speckled in blood and in his left hand he carried a curved blade. The locks upon the door were loosed and the door opened. Zenith saw himself. The child fell upon his father with the blade. Zenith deflected his attack and beat him severely, even unto the point of death. As he lay upon the ground, Zenith stood above him, but could not bring himself to kill his son. Then his son arose and stabbed him in the heart. He took his father's body and placed it over the casket, slit Zenith's throat and poured his blood into the casket.

"You have seen what is to come to you and your son if you do nothing," the woman said. "This advice I give to you, that the future is as changeable as water. It can be shaped, it can be controlled, but if nothing is done, the events you have seen will occur. You must kill your son else the entire world would be destroyed at his hand. Here, take thy fill of water and continue northward, where you will again be taught by my kind and learn what should be done concerning thy first-born son."

And when the woman had receded into the water, the water parted. Where the water had parted, was a path of large stones and not a drip of water was upon them. Zenith filled the gourd and walked down the path the woman created. When he crossed, the river resumed its normal shape and flow.

Zenith continued his journey northward and the week passed quickly. The water from the river gave him strength and quenched his thirst as he walked through the forest. On the seventh day, he communed with the Faye. Its power swarmed in the Great Wilderness and filled everything that was in it. The rocks, trees, grasses and other plant life were bursting with energy. The leaves and needles of the tree seemed thicker and greener. The plants, bushes, berries and flowers, all their colors and movement seemed more vibrant, more distinct, as if Zenith were seeing a huckleberry for the first time with new eyes.

As he entered, the Faye surrounded him and he saw things both past and future, causing both to intertwine at present. The trees were as thick as buildings and so tall that tips seemed to have touched the sky. The veins of bark spiraled up the tree and were as wide as a man. The trees changed the next moment, being but a small sapling, tender and fragile sprouting a few leaves and needles. While he walked, thorns and vines moved away like fearful tendrils. In front of him he could see himself, and behind him, he could see himself. To his left, he could see creatures materializing out of nothing, glowing with the Faye, and on his right, he could see these same creatures dimming and disappearing into nothing.

He observed the powers around him, and a child in a hooded white robe appeared from behind one of the trees. Zenith followed him and called after him, but the child ran further ahead. When Zenith had caught up with the child, he was lying upon a stone alter.

On the ground, next to the stone alter was a curved blade which was not tarnished or weathered by time. Bundles of sticks were placed around the altar as a funeral pyre but there was no torch or tool to make fire with. Then another woman of water came from a tree. Her gaze was like strikes of lightening. Her raiment was the sunlight and it wrapped around her from shoulder to ankle.

The boy in white lay upon the altar. The ground was covered in soft grass. The large trees parted and moved, allowing the sunlight to enter the small clearing and golden beams of light shown around Zenith. The woman approached and plucked one of the golden beams and from it, fashioned three orbs. She held the orbs out to Zenith.

"What do you seek?" When she spoke, her voice was as terrible and powerful as a great waterfall.

"I seek to stop my seed from choking the earth, and scorching it, and commanding thousands of thousands that all may burn under his power."

The woman then took one of the orbs and placed it in in Zenith' hand. The orb was blue like the sky and fit in his palm.

"These three orbs that I have fashioned represent the three periods of time. The first I give to you is the past. Look into it."

Zenith lifted the orb to his eye, looked in, and grew pale, for it showed him an event that occurred six years prior to his sojourn to the Great Wilderness.

Zenith and a group of friends were in a brewery that contained the strongest ales and the most tender meats known in Anteperil. Barrels lined the walls that were filled with brews made from fine grains. The booths and chairs had high backs and plush cushions. On the upper level of the tavern was an inn. The candelabra was made of brass and crafted to match kingly halls. The cutlery and eating wares were of silver. They drank much and ate much for they were celebrating Zenith's birthday.

As the evening was ending, his friends presented to him the young harlot Anna, for she was fair to look upon. She was desired by many men and knew many men. And Zenith took her and knew her in the upper rooms of the tavern.

As a gift of affection and appreciation, Zenith gave her a vial wrapped with a leather cord, saying that it would protect her from harm. Then the memory ended, and the orb disintegrated in his hand.

The woman of water took another orb from her hand. It was white in color and the same size as the previous.

"This orb represents the present. Look into it."

Zenith looked into it.

He saw the harlot Anna outside the brothel. A boy wrapped his arms tightly around Anna's legs. He was dressed in a white robe with a cord tied around his waist.

"This is the first fruits of your loins, a son of a harlot, whom you must kill, for he can only be killed by one who shares his blood." When she finished speaking, the orb disintegrated in his hand.

Then the woman of water took from her hand the last orb and gave it to Zenith. It was the same size as the previous two. It was the color of the sun and the edges burned fiercely but did not cause pain.

"This orb represents the future and the child upon the altar represents your first born. Take the knife at the base and cut your hand. Sprinkle your blood on the child, and then cast the orb of fire onto him. For the fire that must burn the child must be a manifestation of the Faye and it must mix with the blood of his blood."

Zenith approached the altar, drew the knife and cut his hand. He spilled his blood on the child's head and cast the orb onto the altar. The child lay still as the fire burned. The woman instructed Zenith about the words and power of the Unspoken.

"The child lay still because he is under the power of the Unspoken. I have bound him to the altar and stilled his tongue. This you must learn and more, for the Unspoken are to be passed down from Head Teacher to Head Teacher. Therefore, the words of the Unspoken are not written," the woman said. "Nor could they be written, for if the words were written, the words themselves would crumble upon the page, and the page would burn like dry tinder."

And after the Unspoken were committed to memory, the woman of water expounded upon the Faye and how it is to be channeled and used.

After those teachings were committed to memory, Zenith demonstrated the teachings and with profound proficiency. Then the woman of water expounded how the school of the Faye was to be organized, and the governance thereof, and the purpose of the school, which is to protect all kind from ill, by those who are and are not attuned to the Faye. The school would teach those who are attuned to the Faye that their responsibility is of stewardship over those around them.

And Zenith found peace in the Great Wilderness and began his journey back to the city. The sun could not scorch him nor parch him. When he had returned to Anteperil, his countenance was bright, and his friends and cohorts marveled at it.

"Marvel not that I am among you in good health, nor be astonished that my countenance is bright, for I have communed with the Faye and have returned from the Great Wilderness with knowledge to impart to you. Let ink and pen be found, let parchment be gathered that I may speak unto you what was spoken unto me concerning the Faye and our school."

And those teachings are found in the volumes which were scripted upon his arrival from the Great Wilderness. He also restructured the school to tend to its future needs. The position of Head Teacher, and Assistant to the Head were kept. Others were appointed to the title of Teacher. Twelve teachers were appointed and their responsibilities are to teach others the different aspects of channeling the Faye.

The Assistant to the Head was to be taught by the Head the words of the Unspoken so that when Head Teacher passed away, his assistant could take his place with a full knowledge of the Unspoken and then appoint another from the teachers to be his assistant.

[][][]

"The story goes on for a while," the book wrote, "about the governance of the School, and those books are in the library. I don't think they are pertinent to what you are looking for. We will skip over this section."

Kosai was glad the book intervened. More literature on theory and governance was the last thing Kosai wanted to read. The words faded, and Kosai turned the page.

[][][]

After the rules and teachings of Zenith were scripted, Zenith went into the Grand Library of Anteperil and there built a secret room, the entrance of which only he could see.

The room was located on the south wall of the library. When he spoke the proper word of the Unspoken, a door appeared on the brick wall. Above the door was a circle of power. The circle was a thin ring of green flame. Inside the ring were three green arches. The door was made from planks of wood, held tightly together by three metal bands that were bolted to the wood. Zenith placed the end of his staff on the three arches within the circle of power and turned his staff like a doorknob. When the arches were inverted, there was a loud click and the door swung slowly open.

In the middle of the room, he channeled the Faye and created an altar from the existing stone. The grey stone rose from the ground and was slightly angled on all four sides so that the top was slightly smaller than the base. The altar was big enough to lay a man upon. He channeled the Faye a second time and created a torch from the right wall.

The torch was built in a way that it could be taken from the wall. On the bottom of the handle was a round pommel, engraved with another circle of power. The handle was two hand spans high and had evenly spaced lateral grooves. Etched at the top of the handle were three stone circles, stacked atop of each other. The first ring was the smallest, only a few inches wide with no design. The second ring was wider by an inch and was also without design. The third ring was the largest. On the wall, above the torch, Zenith took his staff, and channeling the Faye, carved a circle of power. When the circle was complete, the torch lit, and an orb of fire burned upon the torch.

Satisfied with his work, he exited the room and hurried up to the main assembly hall where many of his colleagues were conversing about practices concerning the Faye. He took a few of his closest friends aside. Hurriedly, he asked them to gather logs and tinder for him while he was away. When his friends asked him why, he divulged unto them the vision of his son.

Zenith told them of Anna, and how it was revealed unto him that she gave birth to a son. "For only the blood of his blood and flesh of his flesh may destroy him. Power is within him and he is without restraint. I am to take him and slay him that our future and the future of others may be preserved."

A few claimed him to be mad, or with fever. He took them, one by one, and placed his hand over their eyes and showed them what he had seen. In the vision given by Zenith, they each saw his son commanding thousands of thousands with his left hand. In his right, he held a vile of black substance.

"In his left, he will have power and authority over the earth. Armies and governments will bow to him, and he will hold in his left hand the key to his power. This vile and its contents have not of yet been revealed to me, but I hope to end his life tonight, that what you and I have seen shall not come to pass." After Zenith had revealed his visions and the interpretation, there were still others who did not believe his words.

"How are we to know for a surety that what we have seen has come from the Faye and was not a construct in his mind that he has placed upon us?" Lucent asked. "Did he not recite unto us the governing rules, stating that one should not kill without sufficient reason for good, be it survival or as a means for preventing greater harm? He has gone mad believing that killing a child who is full of innocence would be for good."

Zenith then left the school and made his way to the tavern where he had celebrated his day of birth. He asked the owner where he could find Anna and was given directions to the brothel house. It was towards the mid-afternoon when he found his way to the brothel house and was there greeted by one of the women who attempted to lure him.

But Zenith straightway dismissed the invitation.

"Tempt me not. I have come in search of Anna, for it has been shown me that she has a son, who is mine, and I have come to take him." Then the color vanished from the harlot's face.

"How did you come to know of this thing?" she asked. "We have told no man or woman, save it be those that have worked within these walls, of the child."

"How I came to know is of no importance. Now go woman, fetch me Anna and my son that I may take him." The woman went into the house and returned with Anna, and her son. Anna looked at Zenith and shook her head. Tears traced muddy trails in her dusty cheeks.

"These years I have told no man or woman, except those that work within these walls, of our child. I pray tell me who told you that I may know who has betrayed my trust."

"No man or woman told me of our son. He is the flesh of my flesh, and blood of my blood and that is reason enough for me to know that he has lived. I will take him and raise him that he may grow and become a man of reputable nature. Surely you do not wish for your son to continue to be known as the son of a harlot, fatherless and without skill?"

"I do not wish for my son to continue to grow within these walls, or for others to know that he is here, for the son of a harlot does not fare well in this world. I do wish that you would take him, and raise him as your own, and teach him to forget all that he has known here."

Zenith took his son and returned to the school. When he entered, he was greeted by the Assistant as well as a small number of teachers. These teachers conspired against him while he was out that they would remove him from the school and save the child, disbelieving the words and the visions which he spoke of and showed to them. Zenith knelt and leaned into his son's ear.

"These men seek to kill me and take you as their own. I have a room prepared for us that will keep you safe from them. Stay close to me." Zenith stood and addressed the teachers. "Brothers, why hast thou come to me at this hour? Have I not shown you what is to come to pass?"

"What you have said, we do not believe, for we fear you are mad," Lucent said. "We have come to take the child from you and remove you from our school. You have no place here." Zenith looked down at the child, then back at the Assistant.

"You have not yet learned all the words of the Unspoken, how are you to lead and carry this school?"

"The words which you have taught me I feel are enough, but I do not know for myself if what you have taught is true. Can you prove unto me that the words you speak are true?" Zenith agreed and called for parchment, ink and pen. When it was brought to him, he handed it to the Assistant. "Upon that parchment, write the words of the Unspoken which I have taught you, that you may understand. If the parchment holds, then you shall know that I am a liar and I will cast myself out from among you, but if the parchment does not hold, then you shall know that I have spoken the truth."

The Assistant then loaded the quill with ink and began to write the words of the Unspoken. But as he wrote them, the tip of the quill became fire, and the parchment burst into flames.

"And how are we to know that it is not some trick by which you have deceived us?" a teacher asked.

Zenith breathed in and channeled the Faye into his body. Filled with power, he stretched out his staff, and pushed the group of teachers back, pinning them against a wall. He then took his son by the arm and ran into the library. Other teachers were waiting at the entrance with large batches of sticks and tinder.

"Follow me," he said to them and the teachers followed. He continued to run until he came to the entrance of the room with the altar and torch which he created. He spoke the word of the Unspoken and the door appeared. They entered in and as the last teacher entered the room, the door and entranced concealed itself as stone and brick. Zenith laid his son upon the altar and the teachers laid the sticks and tinder around the boy. There, the boy struggled. Zenith breathed and channeled the Faye a second time. He placed his hand upon the child's face and spoke the words of the Unspoken for silence, binding, and sleep.

As the boy slept, Zenith took the knife that was at the base of the altar and cut his hand.

"The blood of your blood and the flesh of your flesh," Zenith said as he dripped his blood upon the child. "These are the only things that can harm you, and so do I do with my own blood, sealing the future peace of our people." As Zenith spoke, the child stirred. Zenith, seeing that his son was waking, took the torch from the wall and thrust onto the altar.

The flames licked the sticks around the altar and the fire grew. The child awoke as the fires burned him. He stood on the altar and leapt at Zenith, catching him by surprise. Zenith aimed for the child's throat but missed and sliced the boy's arm. The child wrestled the knife from Zenith's hand and stabbed his father straight through the heart. As the boy leaned over his dying father, a necklace fell out of the child's robes that Zenith had not seen before.

On the end of the necklace was the vile he had given to Anna that night at the tavern. The boy withdrew the knife from Zenith's chest. The fires on him and around him subsided as he ran out of the room. Out of fear, the other teachers ran from the room, and the boy followed.

"Murderers, they have killed my father, murderers!" the boy cried.

The teachers that planned on banishing Zenith heard the boy's cries and laid hold upon the teachers the child was pursuing.

"You murdered Zenith?" asked Lucent.

"We have done no such thing. Zenith was to take the child and burn him, but the child stirred and fell upon Zenith and slew him with the knife he now holds." Then Lucent took hold of the boy and looked at the knife.

"Is this true?" He asked.

"They are full of lies. As a demonstration of his power, my father placed me on the altar to show that he could protect me from the flames." As the boy spoke, the memories of those around him changed. Lucent no longer thought that Zenith was going to kill his own son but do what the boy had said. "But when I arose unharmed, they were afraid, killed my father and fled."

"He lies! He took the knife from Zenith and slew him." One of the other teachers cried out. "The blood is upon his hands!"

The child clenched his hands, gripping the blade tightly. Before the Assistant to the Head could turn to look, the blood was gone.

"They are as mad as my father was. Banish them!" the child cried. His cries were not the cries of a child. His words were words of power and Lucent banished his fellow teachers, men and women he'd known for years, and cursed them as Nameless.

Zenith, with his last breaths, saw a trace of the boy's blood on the ground next to him. Carefully, he wiped the blood with his fingers and mixed it with his own. He channeled the Faye to create this book you now read from the mixed blood. He placed within this book his knowledge and teachings of the Faye as well as the ability to absorb the knowledge from other writings around it.

He also placed upon the book a spell, that those who looked upon it would not be able to read its words and the pages would appear blank. Only those who were flesh of hi son's flesh and blood of his son's blood would be able to read the book. For it is only by the flesh of his flesh and the blood of his blood that he can be destroyed.

The boy was taken in by the teachers who remained, and they taught him all that they knew. Eventually, the child grew and became the Head Teacher. Using the darkest words of the Unspoken and his own cunning, he killed the other teachers, one by one, and drained their blood, concentrating it into the vial. He could have killed all of the teachers, but instead said that the time was not yet at hand for the School to be destroyed.

The teachers retaliated and tried to destroy him, but his power was too great. No channeling of the Faye could harm him. The teachers, defeated and fearful, asked him what he wanted.

"I want to see my mother," he said. As he left, his white hooded cloak turned to black and he disappeared in the night wind. The teachers that remained ran to the brothel and each begged to see Anna. A woman there said that she fled the week before with a child in arms to Noiknaer.

"She saw a man who was a client of hers frequently," one of the women said, "begging in the streets for food. When she visited him, the man did not know who she was. She returned here, took her son, and fled. We pressed her to know why she was leaving.

"She said that she had a dream. In her dream, she saw a man that she had known often, but the man did not know who she was. She heard a voice in her dream that was as loud and soft as a distant waterfall. The voice told her that when this should happen, she was to take her child and flee to Noiknaer and leave the child at the Capital Barracks."

[][][]

The words faded and Kosai took a deep breath, taking in all the information. The words from the story stuck in his mind like dried honey. Each section seemed like a vivid memory.

He discovered who his mother was, and in that instant, was grateful that the Captain kept it secret from him. He tried to imagine a life working the gates, or in the mines of Linnouse, and shook his head. The unnamed child was Vilheim, and Kosai realized they were half-brothers, and though half, he was still the blood of his blood, and flesh of his flesh.

Kosai closed the book and secured it in his trousers. He lay down on the cot and thought back to his encounter with Vilheim in the sandstorm. It wasn't the sword that injured his half-brother, but the blood on the shattered blade. Whether or not Vilheim retreated because of pain, fear, or further strategy, Kosai wasn't sure. Even stared up at the stone ceiling, clearing his mind of fear, and a little paler than before.

CHAPTER 16

It took Kosai the rest of that day, the whole night, most of the next day, and more turnip soup before he fully recovered. He did not dream of the beach, or the naked man, or any of the events that happened during his Awakening but slept a dreamless sleep.

When he finally recovered, Mearto wasted no time in starting him back on his studies. The first two hours of the day were spent reading on what "Channeling the Faye" meant, how to do it, and what you could do once you channeled the Faye. Kosai learned theory behind channeling and circles of power. Kosai turned to all the pages that Mearto had written down, but consulted the book, which pulled the meatier portions out of the text. Some of the books Mearto brought up contained paragraphs about Vilheim and his past and the School of the Faye in Anteperil before it moved to Noiknaer. Other sections were portions that Kosai remembered from the "Enlightenment and Damnation of Zenith".

After the four-hour study period, there was a fifteen-minute walk to, and around, the Oasis. After the fifteen-minute break, Kosai spent two hours meditating and communing with the Faye. Lunch was next, followed by a four-hour practice session in the arena. The day ended with another two-hour study session.

As Kosai and Mearto were walking up the West Stair, Kosai stared at the ground, thinking about his half-brother and the plot to end his life. What Principle Daius said made sense. They could train him, and use him to defeat another, greater threat, and when he accomplished that task, they could kill him.

"What's on your mind?" Mearto asked, looking back at Kosai as they continued to walk upwards. Kosai stopped and listened. No one was coming up the stair from the library and no one coming down the stair from the Oasis. Even though no one was close enough to hear him, he didn't want to take the chance that someone may walk in mid-sentence.

"I have a headache. Is there a really quiet place in the Oasis?" Kosai asked, his firm stare indicating he didn't have a headache at all. Mearto seemed to understand and nodded.

"Follow me." Once at the top of the West Stair, she led Kosai halfway around the Oasis to the north-east side.

"We're safe here. What's on your mind?" Mearto asked as she kneeled on the grass.

"I know why Theo is trying to kill me," he started. "Do you know about the other vision the Seer had?"

There was long silence. Mearto looked down at the ground.

"Yes," she said softly. She looked in the distance. Bees buzzed about the hives, finding a way in, and then buzzed out to collect nectar from the flowers in the Oasis. "Though, I do not believe it. Since the Seer is betraying the routes, I can't trust anything he says. He may want you dead. I don't know why yet, but you can't let that distract you. Do I believe that you are the to kill Vilheim? Yes, because why else would he want to make you a forced-conduit?"

"To remove one of the most talented guards the Barracks have," Kosai said.

"There are easier ways to kill you than to waste time on teaching someone," Mearto said firmly. "No. The Seer saw you killing Vilheim. And even if he did See you against our school with another, the future, I think, is changeable and moldable, like water. It takes its course. When you alter the ground, the water changes where it flows. But that's not all, is it? You still look troubled."

"No. I found out today why I can kill him. It's because of my mother." Mearto pulled her attention away from the bees and looked at Kosai.

"His mother was Anna, and Zenith passed away long before your conception. I do recall that Anna went missing a few years ago, but there was time for her to give birth to you, which could mean that you and Vilheim are half-brothers." She paused for a moment. "Who was your father?"

"The Captain is, or at least he is the one who raised me, but whether he is my biological father..." Kosai stopped midsentence and stared at the buzzing hives. "It doesn't matter. Ellene and the Captain raised me, and that's the end of it."

"But what does Vilheim being your half-brother have to do with being able to kill him?" Kosai thought how he would answer this question without letting her, or anyone who might ask, know about the book. The book cautioned him against revealing it to anyone and he held to that warning.

"When I first encountered him, he almost killed me. Vilheim took part of my sword and stabbed in my leg. When I pulled it out, my blood was on that blade and when I attacked, it hurt him. I attacked him before when my sword was whole, but it passed through him as if he were mist. His blood and my blood are similar, and that is what hurt him." Mearto looked at Kosai and frowned.

"How do you kill him then?"

"I'm not sure," Kosai shook his head and bit his lip. "He is impervious to the channeling of Faye. Physical attacks like swords and spears cannot hurt him. That has been tried. The vial he carries, it is the source of his power. If I can destroy that, I will be able to use my blood to kill him." Kosai thought about Zenith's story and what the Women of the Water instructed. Zenith built the altar by way of the Unspoken and attempted to kill his only son. Kosai wanted to know if the altar was still there, and if it was, if he needed to lure Vilheim to it to kill him. The possibility that the Seer was spreading false visions to place Kosai's life in jeopardy only complicated things.

"Do you even know what to do with your blood? Do you just spill it on him and that's the end? Will he just shrivel up like a salted slug? What do you need to do? You need to think things through," Mearto prodded. Kosai sighed.

"What are we going to do about the Seer?" Kosai finally asked.

"We do nothing. You continue your training until we figure out why he wants you dead. When we find his motive, then we confront him."

"He wants me dead because he believes I am going to destroy the school!"

"And I don't believe that he actually saw that." Mearto's voice was firm and orderly. Her tone again reminded Kosai of the Captain.

"And how are we going to find his motive?"

"Leave that to me," she said slyly. "We have gone over your break time. Go find a quiet place to commune. I will be close by in-case anything happens."

Kosai veered away from the beehives and found a spot next to one of the many streams in the Oasis. There was a little flock of black chickens with teal trimmed feathers nearby. They jerked their heads left and right, staring at him with each eye before continuing to scour the ground for insects. Little arms of grass reached up from the dirt and small, fuzzy patches of moss grew in small circles around him. He read about what meditation and communion was, closed his eyes, and went back to the beach in his mind.

[][][]

The naked lay on his canvass beneath a palm tree on the beach. He stood and greeted Kosai, shaking his hand. "Why are you the only one who can kill Vilheim?" the man asked.

"I am his half-brother. I am the blood of his blood and flesh of his flesh. I alone can kill him and no one else." The man smiled and laughed.

"That book of yours is a real treasure. Now, have you figured out who I am yet?"

"Based on the story that I read in the book, and what you have told me so far, I think so, though I don't understand why. You are Zenith, the Second Head Teacher of the School of the Faye." The man clapped his hands in congratulations.

"That wasn't too hard to figure out, now was it? How are you going to kill me?"

"You tried to kill your son with an altar and fire made from the Faye, a knife and your own blood."

"Good!" Zenith said. He smiled again and began to walk further into the island. Kosai followed him. As the pair walked, the island began to change. The tropical trees transformed into tall, thick evergreens. Kosai looked up, unable to see the tops of them. The soft, warm sea breeze shifted, and then stilled. The smell of rotting undergrowth and tree sap filled the air. Kosai looked behind him and the beach was gone. There were only trees behind trees.

All was quiet. There were no birds, no waves, no breeze, no rustling branches, no insects, nothing. The only sound was his breathing and his footsteps. Sunlight beamed through the branches and pine needles, as if they were walking through bars of translucent gold.

Zenith stopped when they reached a small clearing. In the clearing was an altar with sticks around it. A fire was already burning, though Kosai couldn't tell if the boy from the story was in the fire or not.

"When the time comes, you must kill him in room that I created," Zenith said.

"I figured so, but why? Why does his death have to be so... so, methodical?"

"Many, many reasons. Mainly because of that cursed vial I gave to his mother." Zenith kicked the ground and was silent for a moment. "Only the blood of his blood and the flesh of his flesh can kill him now."

"That doesn't answer my question." Kosai said flatly.

"I admit it didn't look right that I was killing my only son. The room that I made, the altar, the circles of power that hid the room as well as lit the torch, all of it, was done through the power of the Unspoken that only I knew. That way there would be no interruptions. I should have bound him to the altar. It was my mistake to put him to sleep instead."

"You still haven't answered my question," Kosai said, raising his voice.

"Have you learned nothing of patience?" he yelled. Kosai blushed and looked down. "Patience is the answer to all things; you would do well to remember that first lesson." Zenith was quiet again and kneeled on the ground. Kosai did the same. "There was a very specific reason the Women of the Water appeared to me. And the things they taught me, I withheld from everyone. Seeing as you are the one to kill him... I suppose I will answer your question, but it is not a concise answer."

Kosai nodded and waited for Zenith to continue.

"When the world was first created, the cognitive energy that we call the Faye created primitive man. Over time, man changed into a more intelligent being, and became as we are now. The Faye, which flows in all life and gives power in our world, saw fit to create four beings to aid and assist man. These beings you and I know as the Women of the Water. They were supposed to teach man how to make medicine, machines, and tools. They were supposed to develop their minds, and teach them about the Faye and its purpose."

"Teach religion and science then?" Kosai interjected.

"Yes. As the population of man grew, the Women of the Water were unable to assist man by themselves. Together, they decided to create another race of man, one whose blood was of the Faye. These men and women were the beginnings of the conduits and were known as pure conduits. In them was the knowledge of the Awakening, as well as the Unspoken. Over time, these people of the water mixed with man, and from them came conduits. After the fifth and sixth generations of the women of the water had passed away, the knowledge of the Unspoken and the Awakening were lost, and all but two of the bloodlines were mixed.

"Anna, your mother, was the last of one of those bloodlines. She was not Awoken, and if she was able to commune with the Faye, she hid that talent very well. I was the other who had pure blood of the Faye. Our son is a direct descendant of pure conduits, tracing back to the Women of the Water.

"Though the Women of the Water are immortal, the race they created is not. The People of the Water die natural deaths and can only be killed by one who shares their blood. When the boy took the knife from me, it already had his blood on it, and when he stabbed me in the heart, that blood pulsed into my body, and I died.

"The reason for the altar and the Unspoken is because of the talisman that I gave to Anna, which she gave to her son. The word for binding is used to subdue Vilheim so that he may not use the vile. The word for breaking is what will destroy the talisman. Only the Unspoken has power enough to break the circle of power on the vial. Kosai, you are the last descendant of Anna, and though your blood is mixed, there is enough power running through your veins to do what needs to be done."

"Is that why I am able to swim so easily?"

"Yes, because you are a half descendant of the Women of the Water. The ocean, streams, and lakes are natural to you." Kosai stared at the ground, and then back at the fire.

"Teach me the words that I need for the Unspoken. Then I wouldn't have to find your secret room. I could make my own, or I could meet him anywhere in the desert and build the altar."

Zenith let out a short, hard laugh.

"If I taught you the words, the moment you spoke them, you would die. You are not strong enough. The first time the Faye flows through you, you will understand." Zenith stared into the fire.

"You'll have to teach me the words sometime," Kosai said. "How else am I supposed to open your room at least? And why wasn't any of this put into your book? Isn't it supposed to contain all your knowledge?"

"What I have told you, you will not find in any book. Though it is my knowledge, I did not place it in the book. That book is a powerful tool, and he would destroy it if he knew it held the secrets to his defeat. I have come here, as your object, for the purpose of teaching you the Unspoken. Right now, as I said, you would die at the first utterance. It takes years to build up stamina to channel the Faye." He chuckled. "I guess I mislead you earlier, but only somewhat. It is going to take you a long time to build that stamina, time that we don't have. That is why you must train, and when you are ready and have built up your strength, then and only then, will I teach you the three words of the Unspoken that you need; one for opening, one for binding, and one for breaking. When you go to Anteperil, those are the only words you need to defeat Vilheim."

Kosai read the past four hours about the importance of a strong will when channeling the Faye and the theory on how to do it, but the books never mentioned building a tolerance or stamina.

"Mearto didn't mention anything about a tolerance. Usually, she throws every book on a subject, and anything that relates to that subject, at me and demands an oral report two hours later. Do forced-conduits need to worry about tolerance? What if I'm not ready? How am I supposed to lure Vilheim to his death chamber?" Kosai asked his questions frantically, hardly breathing before each one.

"You are that lure," Zenith said, smiling. "Vilheim knows that you are the only one who can kill him. He will do all he can to remove you as a threat, even if it means going to that room."

"And what about attacking before I am ready?"

"That is the time we don't have," Zenith shook his head. "That is why you need to train, hard. You need to build your tolerance. You know what's at stake if you don't." Kosai nodded and stared at the fire. Each moment, each opportunity spent not training, was a small step towards his own destruction. "I don't know why he has such a disposition to do evil," Zenith spoke more to the fire than to Kosai. "Perhaps it was because of how he saw others treating his mother." He picked up a stick and threw it onto the pyre. "I wish I had more time to study. The Faye knew he was evil, they even warned me of him and gave me a commission to kill him, yet they allowed him to live, to be born even, and for what?" Zenith picked up another stick and threw it more violently. It hit the burning fire and knocked off some of the embers. They quickly died out and turned to sand. Kosai looked at the small clump of sand for a moment and then turned back to Zenith.

"Do you think you created the Dark One by trying to kill your son? I mean, that is what the school calls Vilheim." Kosai asked.

"No," Zenith said calmly. "He was a conduit, the purest and attuned I ever saw. Inside him though, when I looked into his eyes for the first time, was darkness and evil that made me shiver. For the first time, in a long time, I was truly afraid, and of a child no less. No, I didn't create him. He would have done what he did to become what he became, even if I hadn't intervened."

[][][]

There was a hand on his shoulder. Kosai jolted out of his meditation and looked up, seeing Mearto standing behind him.

"You have done well," Mearto said. "Your concentration and focus is incredible. I guess that is why you are called the Wolf of the Capital Barracks."

"I have a good teacher." Mearto smiled slightly. Kosai thought about both the Captain and Mearto. Through his physical training at the Barracks, Kosai could keep his mind focused and sharp for any task. Through the knowledge imparted by the books Mearto assigned for him to read, as well as her instructions during the Awakening, he was now a conduit.

Together, the three of them were close to putting an end to the betrayal of the caravan routes. After that, Kosai and Mearto would work together to put an end to Vilheim. Kosai knew for himself why he was the only one that could do it and he could prove it to the Captain.
CHAPTER 17

The Captain walked down Capital road, glancing up at the flapping banners as the fabric snapped in the wind. He scheduled a meeting with the Council soon after he received his report from Kosai, and surprisingly, received a quick response.

"Hypocrites," he said to himself as he looked away from the emblem on the flag, the fist holding the wheat. Children were pouring out of the maze of cement buildings, running from each other and heading towards the fountain. All were underfed, all were dying of hunger. Wasting no time, the Captain began to jog up to the council building. Officials and clerks silently moved to the side as he ran by them. When he reached the entrance to the Council room, the guards saluted him, and then stopped him.

"You're early," one of the guardsmen said. "You aren't supposed to see the Council for another fifteen minutes."

"Who says I'm here to see them?" the Captain replied. The guards were silent and then stood at attention. "Has the council had any other meetings this morning?"

"They have had one with the syndicate, something about how another transport company was started by some of their members, and then they have had a couple meetings between themselves, nothing more."

"Do you know exactly what the syndicate was complaining about?"

"They wanted to know if there was some way to file a lawsuit against them or something. Their complaint was quickly dismissed."

"Good," the Captain said. "Just so you are aware, I am not going into this meeting just to report my investigation." The Captain leaned in closely and lowered his voice. "Kosai has found the individual who is betraying the trade route information. We suspect that he is associated with the Council. I am not sure if it is a few members, or the whole, but part of this meeting will answer that. If I speak correctly, I could bring out some evidence that can be used against them. Right now, neither Kosai nor I have enough of a case to do anything about it." Both guard's eyes were wide open, yet still held the rest of their face and figure in at attention.

"And if the whole Council is behind the betrayed routes?" Terynn asked.

"Then I will find people to replace them and we will impeach them. It is our duty to the people." The two guards nodded. "That is why I have needed you to listen to every meeting as best you can. Continue to do so and keep me informed." The Captain straightened himself and stared at the large double doors. "Who is the Council meeting with now?"

"They have called a Grand Council meeting to talk about the limited success the caravans are facing," one of the guards said. "They also want to know why the syndicate is so successful with their caravans."

"At least now we know that not all of the Council is behind the betrayal. Do you know who called the meeting?"

"I'm not sure," Terynn said. "Hemmel is on duty in the Council room. I'll ask him when I get a chance."

"And while you're at it, ask him if he remembers if there was any division and who was on what side." Someone began to yell inside the Council room, though the Captain couldn't hear what was said. "And make sure he remembers that," he said pointing at the room.

"Yes sir," the guards said. The room quieted and the other guard came out.

"The Council will see you now sir," Hemmel said. The Captain walked by Terynn and hot him a quick, surprised glance. Inside, the representatives were dressed in their red, blue, gold, and green colored robes. Up in the upper council level, Rodrick was flush faced, cheeks and neck flaring red and pasty white with anger. Steran sat with tight lips, Simmons had a wide and wicked smile, and Nicóla looked sideways at Kevyn. Kevyn looked at the back of his nails and tore loose flakes of skin from his fingers. The Captain smiled.

"Captain, how goes your investigation," Rodrick said calmly, though hoarsely. His cheeks were still red.

"I have spent my time investigating the syndicate at every point. I have infiltrated their society, took possession of financial records, met with high ranking officials and the lowest street sellers."

"Oh good," Councilor Steran said, smiling. "And what have you discovered?"

"Nothing." When the Captain said this, Steran's smile went straight to a frown. "There is no evidence of contracting nomadic tribes, or any reference to them having any type of access to the trade routes. All of their money is accounted for and backed by receipts."

"But... but..." she stammered. The Captain raised an eyebrow.

"But what, Councilor Steran?" Councilor Rodrick asked.

"I was sure that they were behind it, positive. Are you sure you didn't miss something?"

"Not unless you wanted me to find something," the Captain replied.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" she responded, she shifted in her chair and rolled her shoulders. The Captain looked back at Hemmel who gave a short nod back.

"Captain," Councilor Rodrick said, not even acknowledging Steran's comment. "We will increase funding of the Guard to aid in the discovery of who's at fault for betraying our routes. Tensions are high in the city and among us as you can see." He shot a cold look over to Steran. She glanced at him and then looked away. "Are there any other groups or individuals you can think of that may be considered suspects?"

"My guards and a few other people that I trust are looking as we speak."

"Whatever the cost of your investigation, we will cover it. If you need a warrant, anything you need, just ask. The sooner we come to the end of this, the better."

"Thank you," the Captain said. He turned to leave the room and looked at Hemmel. He nodded again and closed the doors behind the Captain.

"What's the word sir?" Terynn asked.

"Steran knows something. She wanted me to find something against the Three Brothers and was surprised that I failed. She went on the defensive when I exposed her desires. From that, I can gather that she wants me to focus on the Three Brothers until I find something, or she attempted to frame them and expected me to find something against them. Councilor Rodrick, on the other hand, will fund my investigation and has given me his full cooperation until I can find the bottom of this. Keep up the good work." Both guards saluted and the Captain returned to the barracks.

He oversaw the recruits during their training exercises, correcting some of the younger students in their strikes and blocks. After, he did a demonstration on disarming an opponent armed with a dagger and countering with a throw. He gave a few more instructions to Lieutenant Nuevon on other exercises he wanted done.

"After this training session, I need to speak with Deakon and Ulryck," the Captain said. "I have an assignment for them."

"Yes sir," Nuevon said, frowning. The pair was sparring not too far away from the Captain and his lieutenant. Deakon was attempting to deflect a wooden knife from Ulryck. He could change his position to let the knife slide by him, but when he punched Ulryck's wrist, the knife stayed.

"No harm will come to him," the Captain said. "I just need a set of inconspicuous ears out in the city this evening."

"He is small and weak," Nuevon said, shaking his head. "I let him join because of his spirit. He wants to help the people and protect his family. Each day, he is covered in bruises, and his confidence as a guardsman lessens."

The Captain and Nuevon watched as the pair began the exercise again.

"Have I ever told you the story about the man, the spring, and the boulder?" the Captain asked. Nuevon shook his head. "There was man who wanted the intelligence and wisdom to solve any problem. He went to the local sage and asked how he could attain this wisdom. The sage told the man to follow him and led him to a boulder. Underneath the bolder was a small trickle of water, not even big enough to drink from. The sage told him that the boulder was placed atop a spring, and if he could move the boulder, he could drink from the spring and then attain wisdom.

"The man pushed at the boulder all day and night and it didn't move. He grabbed some timber, and using the timber as a leaver, tried to move the boulder, but without success. He tried to dig under the boulder to create a path for it to move, but the boulder crushed the soft earth. On the third night, he sat, watching the trickle of water flow out from underneath the boulder and thought of a solution.

"He took the timber and struck it against the rock. The timber split creating a sharp point on one end. With that sharp point, he dug next to the boulder, scooping out the loose dirt in the hole with his hands. The next morning, a pool of fresh water was next to the rock with a stream that flowed down the hill. When the sage saw this, he asked the man what he learned. The man said that it is easier to find a solution, than to solve a problem."

"I don't understand," said Nuevon. The Captain pointed at Deakon and Ulryck.

"Your young recruit does," he said.

Deakon was on the ground again after his disarming attempt failed. His brow was scrunched, and he was panting heavily. Ulryck extended his hand to help him up, but Deakon gently brushed it away.

"Again?" Ulryck asked. Deakon nodded. Ulryck thrust the wooden knife and slashed at Deakon's face. Deakon dodged both attacks and avoided the knife, stepping back, sideways, changing his stance. Ulryck thrust the knife forward again. In an instant, Deakon stepped into his opponent. Ulryck's attack missed as the blade slid against Deakon's shirt. Deakon slammed the ridge of his hand into the side of Ulryck's face. Ulryck was stunned for a split second, and in that second, Deakon grabbed Ulryck's arm with both of his, and tossed him over his hip. Ulryck was on the ground with Deakon on top of him twisting Ulryck's arm so that the knife point was touching Ulryck's throat.

"Well done," the Captain called out and applauded. Deakon looked up, smiled and then helped his mentor up. Ulryck smiled and patted Deakon on the back. "The path to wisdom was to drink the clean water from the spring," the Captain said to Nuevon, "not to move the boulder. Wisdom is to focus what your goal is, not the problems that lie in front of it."

The Captain excused himself from the training grounds and went into his office. He stared at the letters on his desk from the guards at the council building. Most were meetings with syndicate members and a few with the caravan drivers. The ones that interested him the most were the meetings when the council discussed the affairs of Noiknaer amongst themselves.

Some thought of asking the syndicate for help, others thought about asking for more donations from other cities to assist in the caravans, and other insisted on waiting on Kosai and the Captain to find a solution. But there was nothing, not a word said among the council members that would have hinted at the possibility of one of them, or some of them betraying the routes. He read the letters repeatedly, looking for the smallest phrase that could incriminate some member of the council, but there was nothing. Each phrase as Hemmel heard it was so carefully crafted so that the only intention was for the betterment of the people. There was a knock at the door.

"Enter," the Captain said, still looking down at the papers. Ulryck and Deakon entered and stood at attention.

"You wanted to see us sir?" Ulryck asked.

"Yes, I have an assignment for the three of us," the Captain said. Deakon smiled. "Go change into some plain street clothing. High ranking officials of the Three Brothers believe that an uprising or some sort of disaster is coming. First, we will go to the Forge. I've a set of eyes and ears there that have been listening as of late. I need both of you to be with me as witnesses to what Ellene says. After visiting the Forge, we will split up. Ulryck, you will go out into Market Street, Deakon, you will be in the Pavilion, and I am going to the Tangle. We need to listen to what people are saying. I want you to pay special attention to anything about an uprising, caravan routes or food shortages. If you hear anything, do not engage with the individual, just listen and the report back to me here in my office at midnight." The Captain looked at Deakon. "I was impressed with your throw this afternoon. You were smart to see the opportunity. Keep using that brain of yours."

"Thank you, sir," he said.

"And sir, this was next to your door," Ulryck said, handing a letter to the Captain. The Captain took the letter and looked at it.

"You're excused." The Captain waved the recruits away, still focused on the letter. It was from Hemmel.

Sir,

Rodrick, Nicóla, and Evaan are concerned about a possible uprising if the caravan issue is not resolved. Steran, Aleal, Simmons and Kevyn are very calm and reserved. Rodrick is requesting immediate action to preserve the integrity of the routes, but does not have enough votes from other representatives, or the Council. He is trying to convince the others that an uprising and rioting is a strong possibility. The other side, especially Councilor Steran and Simmons, place trust in you that you will be able to solve this problem.

The Captain read the letter a second time and then stood, looking at each of the lizard skulls, swords, pieces of armor, books, ledgers, and other decorations that explained who the Captain was, and what he was supposed to be: a defender of caravans, skilled in fighting arts, a scholar in military strategy, a teacher, and a leader. He looked at Kosai's sword which lay behind his desk.

A father, he thought, looked to the letter a third time.
CHAPTER 18

Kosai lay in bed exhausted. He understood why Zenith told him about building up stamina. As he willed sparks of flame into existence, he had to envision his entire body on fire, and then concentrate that feeling into a small point in front of him. After the four hours of training, the mental image combined with the immense power of the Faye running through his body drained his energy. During the two-hour study session, Kosai was too tired to read and stared at the page, not seeing words or letters, but black squiggles on a white background.

Mearto arrived to hear Kosai's report and was upset for his lack of effort. She told him that if he was so tired that he should just go to bed. Kosai agreed.

As the time passed, the students worked their way into their bunks, lighting candles with a snap or a touch of the wick. Eventually, he mustered enough energy to roll onto his side and stared past the shadows of other student's candles.

A few students were up, reading and whispering to each other from books they retrieved from the library. Shàn walked by and glanced at Kosai blankly. Kosai stared back as Shàn walked to his own bunk, lit a candle, flipped through a book and made notes with a quill. Shàn looked over at Kosai and gulped; his throat constrictions were visible in the dim light.

Theo and another teacher, who looked like he hadn't missed a meal and always had seconds, entered the room. Theo walked quickly, but proudly, over to Shàn, whispered something in his ear, and then moved further back in the dormitory. The other teacher walked slowly and seemed to focus more on the leg of chicken he was chewing on. Shàn looked again at Kosai, got out of bed and left. The other teacher talked to three other boys, and soon they were all walking out of the dormitory with Theo taking up the end.

"Where are they going?" Kosai asked groggily.

"Muck duty," Theo said, "out in the city tonight for punishment."

"What did they do?"

"Skipped class."

Satisfied with the response, Kosai rolled over to his other side and closed his eyes. Sleep took him instantly, caressing him soft warmth that enveloped him from head to toe.
CHAPTER 19

Night settled in Noiknaer when the Captain and his two students arrived at the Forge. Paer was still behind to the trading table, sorting nails, horseshoes, axe and chisel blades, and other metal tools into buckets or bins. The Captain rapped the table with his knuckles to get his attention. Paer turned, put down his bucket and walked into the Forge.

"What!" Ellene clamored. Paer was mumbling something, but the Captain couldn't hear it clearly. "Fine!" she bellowed. "But finish sorting, and then go." Ellene pushed through the doubled doors with Paer behind her. Paer went straight back to sorting.

"What can I do for you, Captain?" Ellene asked, eyeing the two students warily.

"Have you heard anything about Kosai?" he asked.

"He was the talk of my customers for some time. Everyone saw him come in all bloody. There was a rumor of a quick recovery and promotion, but nothing beyond that."

"Good," the Captain said. He looked over at Paer who stopped sorting to listen to his teacher but started back up again when Ellene shot him a look.

"Last time, you were concerned about some plot against Kosai and eager to find the bottom of it. Why the sudden change?"

"I found out who's trying to kill him, as well as a few other things. Tell me, have you heard anything about a possible uprising?" Paer stopped sorting immediately, seeming to be frozen by the Captain's question.

"I have, though nothing formal," Ellene said as she looked over her shoulder at her student. "Paer knows more. I think he should talk about it. Paer, what do you know?" Paer stood slowly and turned. His face was pale, and he looked firmly at the ground.

"What have you heard, Paer?" the Captain asked gently.

"Sir," he started, and then stopped for a time. The Captain stayed silent. "I'm the oldest of four and my family is hungry. Father had enough, he says. He goes out to the streets each day begging for food. He made pots, vases, carafes and water skins, but no one buys. The Three Brothers seemed to sell only jugs and things for a while. He started begging. He took the last of what he had to put me to school so that I could get out. He tried many times to start his business again, but no one would buy. There is no money here. Other beggars are the same as Father." He paused again and looked at the Captain. "I don't want him to go to the gates," he sobbed, tears beginning to form in his eyes. "My family will die."

"C'mon Paer," Ellene said, annoyed with the sudden emotion.

"No one is going to the gates," the Captain said tenderly. "What exactly have you heard?" Paer wiped his eyes with his hands and cleared his throat.

"A few nights ago, when Father was out, he came across a group of beggars. One of the men lost his daughter to hunger and thought about taking his family to Linnouse to work in the mines. His wife said no and thought to take work at the brothel to help feed the family. The husband said no to that. While the beggars talked about how much poorer they were than the next, my father mentioned the councilors and representatives and how they have food.

"Since then, they meet at the same place each night. More people come to hear Father speak. Father comes home promising that soon we will have enough to eat. I overheard him and Mother arguing one night. People are preparing to take down the capital unless they can get food, I don't know when, but soon. Father promised us food, soon." He looked at the Captain with a smile, as well as worry.

"Thank you, Paer," the Captain said with an approving nod. "But tell your father to wait. I may need his help, as well as others shortly." Paer sighed in relief and smiled. The smile faded as he made sense of what the Captain said.

"You're good to go," Ellene told Paer before he could ask another question. Paer jumped over the counter and headed home. "Be here early in the morning to finish sorting!" she called after him. "Why do you need his father's help?" Ellene asked. "Or any help for that matter? What are you scheming?"

"It's all a boulder," the Captain said softly and smiling. "An attack on the caravans practically every day, most of the time leading to failure, the success of the syndicate, the betrayer of the routes; it's all a boulder."

"What are you talking about and what's this got to do with Paer?" Ellene asked.

"I have been cutting down my list of suspects of people who may have been betraying the trade routes for gain. The Three Brothers had no part in it but are preparing for an emergency." The Captain paused and looked around. Ellene wasn't going to have any other customers tonight. He then looked at the two boys. "What I am about to say, you will never repeat." Ulryck and Deakon nodded. The Captain turned back to Ellene. "Kosai has been at the School of the Faye, next to the Capital building, the one with the two beggars in front of it."

"That's a school? I always wondered what it was."

"In this school, they plan the government caravan routes. Kosai is in there and found out that one of their members is betraying the routes to nomads. But it comes back to the question, which group benefits from the destroyed caravans, this school, the syndicate, or the council?"

"The syndicate obviously," Ellene said.

"That was what I thought. But the Three Brothers haven't been selling. They've been stock piling inventory. The destroyed caravans are making them afraid, although they do benefit."

"That school then. They have to get something out of this," Ellene said with a tinge of excitement in her voice.

"Yes! But how do they get their reward? They do not get any of the goods from the caravans. Who pays them and with what?"

"The tribes don't have anything of value, at least, I don't think they do anyway." Ellene frowned.

"They don't. Kosai met with one of the tribes last night and they are in as bad of a condition as we are and the School has no use for people who aren't proficient in their talent."

"That only leaves the Council," Ellene gasped and leaned on the counter.

"Exactly, and that was what I meant by boulders. At the heart of the whole thing is the Council. Some, like councilor Rodrick, are unaware that other members of the council, like Steran, are killing off the people by purposely cutting off the food supply."

"And you have evidence of this?" Ellene asked. The Captain shook his head.

"No. I know who is betraying the routes, and I have a good suspicion that he is working under the direction, or perhaps with, members of the Council. I just can't understand why the council would want to starve out its own people?"

"Perhaps the council members are that evil," Ellene said. She looked behind the Captain and put her hand above her eyes to block out the sun. "Is that... is that... fire?"

Ellene pointed at the black clouds that billowed up against the evening sky and shifted sideways in the wind. The Captain turned and saw the clouds, and then followed them down with his eyes, trying to find their source. A red glow lit the area.

"It looks like it's coming from the syndicate," the Captain said. "Deakon and Ulryck, go alert Lieutenant Nuevon of a fire at the syndicate school. Belay my previous orders. Ellene, you have been most useful." The Captain leaned over the table and kissed his sister on the cheek. She smiled and then shooed him off with her hands.

When the Captain reached the pavilion, students of the Three Brothers were filling buckets at the fountain and running back to their school. Others joined in, filling their water buckets and following the students.

The Captain ran up to one of the students from the syndicate school and grabbed a bucket from him to help him run faster. The student was dressed in a red coat, with metallic gold buttons that had the symbol of the Three Brothers on them. He wore black shorts and shoes. His hair was parted, and his face was red from the light reflecting off his coat, the heat, and the work of hauling water.

"Is your school on fire?" the Captain asked as they ran. The boy nodded. "Was everyone able to make it out?"

"Beoran was still in his office, scrambling to hold onto as many papers as he could and was working to get a note that was stuck in one of his coat pockets he had hung up. We had to drag him out."

"Has it spread?" the Captain asked.

"I'm not sure sir."

"Do you know what caused it?"

"A group of older boys ran into the school and told us all to get out. They carried torches."

"Thank you. Take off your coat and shirt when you can. You will heat up too fast in them and won't be of any use in putting out the fire."

When the Captain arrived at the syndicate schools, he poured his bucket onto the fire, which was followed by another splash of water from someone else's bucket, with another splash after that. Water from people the Captain hadn't met was poured onto the blaze. Beoran lay on his back in the street in front of the school moaning at the sight of the flames.

"Beoran," the Captain called.

"Oh Captain, my school, the paperwork!" he cried and let out another painful moan.

"Beoran, look at me," the Captain grabbed Beoran, picked him up with his one good arm and stood him on his feet. "I know you've been hiding something. What is it?"

"My school!" he said again.

"Tell me!" The Captain pulled Beoran close, lifting him slightly off the ground.

"It would take too long to explain, but it doesn't matter. It's over, it's all over, those backstabbers." Beoran twisted his face angrily, cursed, and spat at the ground.

"Who?" the Captain roared as he released his grip.

"The Council members. We had them and we had them good."

"What do you mean, had them good?"

"We knew about their secrets," Beoran continued, as if not hearing the Captain. "We knew what they were planning, and they paid good money to make sure secrets stayed secret."

"What are you talking about!" the Captain yelled.

"Councilors Steran, Simmons, Kevyn and Aleal are destroying their caravans by hiring nomads. We were going to expose them, but saw a better opportunity by holding them ransom. They were to pay me, Aldair and Thuane a handsome amount. We knew that chaos would come of it so we stored grain, stored supplies, everything, and kept all the records for the transactions here. It's all worthless now."

"And the private shipments between you and Aldair, what was in them? Money?"

Beoran laughed and looked back at the burning school.

"Money is worthless to us. We teach our students that same principle. Money's value is determined by confidence, perception, and the goods that back it."

"Jewels?" the Captain asked. Beoran shook his head. "Spices?" Beoran shook his head a second time. "What then?"

"Contracts!" Beoran was about to smile but frowned and kicked the ground. "For not exposing the council, we were to be given a full monopoly on the transport business for all of Tessír. Those contracts needed to come from the Capital and kept safe to hold them to. Mine was in my coat pocket, which is now burning."

"And what of Aldair, and Thuane?" the Captain asked. "Were they promised contracts as well?" Beoran nodded.

Ulryck and Deakon ran up to the Captain, panting.

"We informed Lieutenant Nuevon sir," Ulryck said. "He said that help is on the way." The Captain nodded to the two boys. The Captain turned back to Beoran.

"Guards, take Beoran to the Gate. Inform the Gate Master that the duration of his duty will be determined on a later date. Then inform Lieutenant Nuevon that both Aldair and Thuane are to be brought to Noiknaer immediately for interrogation."

Beoran smiled and shook his head.

"It doesn't matter what you do to us, the damage has already been done. The Council is moving against the people. There is so much more you don't know."

"I know enough." The Captain said waved his hand, dismissing Beoran. Ulryck and Deakon took him by the arms and began to walk him to the gates.

Quickly, the Captain set to helping the others put out the fire. On his third trip, other guards from the Barracks arrived with buckets and attempted to relieve the Captain.

"I'm fine," he snapped. "Get some other buckets and let's put this out quickly."

It took most of the night before the fire was put out and the structure was reduced to steaming black charcoal. The desks, papers, stairwell, floors and everything else inside was destroyed. Beoran's iron coat rack had fallen through the floor. The jacket had burned in the fire and with it, the contract of a promised monopoly. Sweaty, hot, and covered in the smell of smoke, the Guard marched back to the fountain, filled their buckets and poured the water over their heads.

Once back at the Barracks, the students and the guard were given orders by the Captain to stretch for fifteen minutes and then take the night off. Training exercises, lectures, or any other type of study was suspended. The recruits and the guards gave an audible sigh of relief.

The Captain stretched with the group but stayed close to Lieutenant Nuevon.

"Where has Lieutenant Tavely been? I haven't heard from him lately," Nuevon asked.

"He's been escorting other routes, switching out guards at the different cities. I believe he is coming up from Anteperil soon." The Captain groaned as he stretched his arm above and over his head, releasing some of the tension in his side. "We have to remove the council members. I just got a confession from Beoran that some of the council members are betraying the trade routes to nomadic tribes." Nuevon stopped stretching and stared at the Captain.

"The recruits told me," Nuevon said. "Besides the confession, what proof do you have about the council?"

"None, except Beoran's willingness to be sent to the Gate. All other evidence was burned in the fire."

"Captain," Nuevon said softly. "With all respect sir, I think you should look at the situation again. A man, a very smart man, just lost everything he owns. I don't think the syndicate is one to sell off assets to support one of their members. He wants food, drink and a safe place to sleep at night. Why not gate duty?"

"He mentioned specific contracts between him, Aldair, Thuane, and the council that revolved around the betrayal. I need you to go to Linnouse and bring Aldair and Thuane to me for questioning. Before you leave, make sure you stop by my desk. I have a letter I want personally delivered to Aldair prior to his arrest."

"I will sir. Did you ever catch the people that started the fire?"

"No. It was a group of kids with masks and torches, older than most of the students, but not men."

"So, all you have to go on is an age range?" Nuevon asked, stretching his right arm in front of his body. "And are you expecting to catch these boys?" The Captain shook his head.

"No, and I don't intend to try. I have been trying to find out who is behind the betrayal of the routes, and now I am about to put my hands around them. I have a confession!"

"A confession yes, but from an emotionally unstable individual who frankly doesn't have much credibility. What I am saying is wait to do anything until you interrogate Aldair and Thuane. The other question is why did a group of boys burn down a syndicate school?"

"I want you to find that out. I don't have time to focus on another tangent. I need to put an end to the betrayed caravan routes. As soon as that is done, people will stop dying in the streets."

As the guards were stretching, the stable boy came running in.

"Fire... boys... masks... hay... horses gone," he yelled between breaths. The Captain ran out to the stalls, followed by Nuevon and the rest of the Guard. The wooden structure was being eaten by red and orange flames. One of the masked boys threw his torch at the Captain and ran down Outer road. The Captain dodged it easily and ran after him. Nuevon was right behind him followed by Deakon and Ulryck.

The masked boys were quick enough to stay just ahead of the Captain and his lieutenant. The boys bowled over people and knocked over carts, attempting to delay their pursuers, but the Captain and Nuevon stayed on them, dodging around people, and jumping over the debris. One of the boys looked back and waved his hand. The Captain, Nuevon and the recruits were jerked backwards, as if they had been caught in a wave. The Captain and Nuevon recovered and kept their footing, but the other two were knocked to the ground. They got up quickly and started running again.

"What was that?" Nuevon asked.

"Exactly what I needed to know," the Captain said. Each time the Captain and Nuevon came close to catching the boys, one of the boys would throw his arm back, attempting to knock back the Captain and his lieutenant with the invisible force.

The masked boys turned down South Road and headed for the Tangle. Deakon, Ulryck, and Nuevon were each able to catch one of the members before the other two disappeared into the wooden labyrinth, each still holding a torch.

"Hold them hard. Don't let them move," ordered the Captain as he disappeared between two wooden structures. Nuevon said something, but the Captain couldn't hear it. The two boys ran deeper into the Tangle, banging against the wooden houses and ladders. Boards, ladders, and makeshift structures fell, slowing the Captain considerably as he maneuvered around planks of nailed wood and clouds of sand. He listened as the boys ran ahead of him and frowned as they split off. When he arrived at an intersection, he hesitated for a second, looked in both directions, and then ran left.

The west side of the Tangle eventually met up with the standard dwellings and side roads and wasn't far from Market Street. The Captain and his guard chased and many criminals into the Tangle. He lost many, but those he did catch tried to make their way back to Market Street and disappear in the crowd.

The Captain ran, glancing down at the sand-covered ground for fresh tracks, but found none. He listened for someone banging against structures, smelled for a hint of smoke, and watched for any quick movement. A man came out from one of the small alleyways on the right. He was covered in sweat and sand and had a slight limp. He looked up when he saw the Captain and pointed to where he just came from.

"He went that way," the man said. He looked familiar. He wore a red coat with missing buttons. As the Captain ran towards him, he noticed the syndicate ring on his hand.

"Thanks, Leudoy," the Captain said as he ran past him, going deeper into the Tangle. Small puffs of sand lingered in the air from where planks of wood and other building materials were knocked over. The buildings and dwellings that were built above ground blocked out the stars and moonlight.

The Captain ran, following the path as best he could, and then he caught site of an orange glow. He ran around the corner and there was one of the boys holding a torch next to a lean-to structure. The flames licked the house but did not ignite the dry wood.

"Another step and this whole place burns up," the boy said in a deep muffled growl. He wore a brown cloth around his face, hiding all his features except his blue eyes and blond hair.

"You would willingly endanger your own life, my life, and the lives of those who live here, to escape?" the Captain asked. The boy was silent, but pulled the torch back slightly from the building. "Why did you burn down the Three Brother's school? What do you gain from that?" The boy looked down at this torch and placed it closer to the building again.

"Quiet," he said. "Just walk away and nothing will happen."

"Just tell me," the Captain said softly, "why did you burn down the school. If you give me that, I will walk away. I will pretend this never happened." The boy looked down at the torch again and held it closer to the building. "If you start another fire, you will die. You don't want that. You're young and have a whole life ahead of you. I just want to know why."

"Protection and food," the young man looked down at the ground and shook his head. "The others and I were promised that our families would be fed and that no harm would come to them in the coming uprising if we did what we were told. That included trying to kill your student, Kosai."

The Captain scowled at the boy, took a deep breath, and calmed himself.

"And who told you to do this? Who promised you food and protection?"

"Teacher Theo," he said. "Even if I die, my family will be fed. My mother will have food. My sisters won't cry at night. My father won't have to beg in the streets or go to Linnouse to work in the mines. I have to do this."

"No! Don't!" the Captain called, but it was too late. The young man tossed the torch into the wooden structure and sat down. The building went up in flames. "You fool!" the Captain yelled as people ran out. "Let's get out of here," he ordered. The boy shook his head.

"It's no use. The fire will spread quickly. You and I will die." The Captain shook his head, picked up the boy with his good arm and head butted him, knocking him out immediately. The Captain threw him over his shoulder and ran out of the Tangle, following the people that lived there. As he ran with the crowd, he noticed Mearto running against the flow. When she saw the Captain, she pointed to the side of the pathway. The Captain moved over and met with her.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"I'm fine," the Captain said. "This boy and four others started fires in the city. They burned down the Three Brothers School, attempted to burn down the Barracks, and this one," the Captain pointed to the boy over his shoulder, "started the fire we are running from."

"Stay here and wait for me," Mearto said. "I'll fix this." The Captain watched her run towards the fire, and in a few minutes, the orange glow disappeared. The smell of smoke crawled through the Tangle. When Mearto returned, her hands were shaky, and she looked pale.

"We really could have used your help earlier," the Captain said grudgingly.

"I would have helped, but I hoped to catch that boy before he could do any more harm. When I saw the boys heading out and found it was for 'disciplinary reasons', something didn't set right with me, that was when I followed them. They set fire to the syndicate school and took off, vanishing in Market Street. I caught back up with them just outside the Barracks and chased them off. I figured they were headed to the Tangle, so I tried to cut them off by running through the dwellings."

"I am glad you're here anyway," the Captain said. "My lieutenant and a couple recruits have three others. One got away. He went east a while back and is probably headed back to your school."

"I will bring him to you then. What are you going to do with Shàn and the others?" she said, pointing at the boy.

"I haven't decided yet. Gate duty seems fitting, but not enough, and I am worried that they might use a few tricks that they learned from your school to escape."

"Cursing him as Nameless is too harsh, and he is too young," Mearto said.

"I'll send them to the mines to work in Linnouse for a year. It is hard work, it is away from Theo, and I think it will teach them a lesson." He looked down at the boy and shook his head. "Their minds are so impressionable. He said that Theo promised that his family would be protected and have food to eat in the revolt. The Council made promises to the Three Brothers that all transport contracts would be theirs after the uprising. One of my sister's students at the Forge, his father is part of a group that is trying to organize it. There is too much momentum. Kosai needs to know about this."

"I agree. Let's take Shàn and the other two boys with us to use as a witness against Theo." When the Captain met up with the lieutenant and the two recruits, he gave them specific orders to place the two boys in confinement at the Gate and to get orders for the three boys to work in the mines as soon as possible. Nuevon nodded, but before they left, Mearto placed her hand on each of the boys' head, and one by one, they each fell asleep.

"They shouldn't wake up until Linnouse," she said. Ulryck put one of the boys over his shoulder, and Nuevon hefted another boy with ease. Deakon had his captive over his shoulder but struggled to walk. Nuevon smiled and put the other boy over his other shoulder, leaving Deakon to walk beside them.

Once the Captain and Mearto were at the entrance to the School, she whispered to the two beggars. After some discussion, they motioned the Captain to follow her. She directed him to the conference room, left the room, and returned with all the Teachers, the Seer, and another boy. The other boy froze for a moment, seeing Shàn incapacitated in a chair and the Captain sitting next to him, and then looked down at the ground, staying close to Theo.

Kosai was the last to enter. He yawned and nodded to the Captain and then took a seat next to him. A few other teachers stood while the Captain, Kosai, Shàn and the other boy sat at the table. When everyone was settled, Daius stood.

"Captain, Mearto has told us that a group of our students were out at night, burning down buildings, including one of the syndicate schools, a portion of your Barracks, as well as an attempt to burn down the more impoverished south section of the city. Is that correct?"

The Captain nodded.

"Mearto has also told us the boy made an interesting confession. Would you care to elaborate on that?" the Seer said.

"I'd rather he did," the Captain said, gesturing to Shàn. A large oval welt was beginning to form on his forehead. "But considering his current condition, I think I will elaborate. He was with four others. Three of his friends were captured and are going to work in Linnouse for a year given their age and the confession. I am curious..." the Captain looked away from Daius and looked at the boy that sat across the table from him. "Would you like to explain what was promised?" he asked. His voice wasn't arrogant, or menacing, but was like a gentle lure. Theo flinched slightly but recovered by scratching his neck. The boy was silent and wrung his hands together, as if he were trying to hold onto an oil covered ball.

"Food and protection... for our families," the boy said. "In exchange, we were to accept any order given to us by Theo."

"And were you out with your friends this evening, causing the mayhem?" Daius asked. The boy nodded. "And what say you against these accusations Theo?" Daius sat and held an open hand out to Theo. Theo stood and bowed slightly to the Head Teacher.

"I will admit that I did take these boys out this evening, though it was for disciplinary reasons. They skipped too many of my classes. We were going to clean the streets-"

"Liar," the boy said. At the word 'liar', Shàn began to stir. He held his head with his hand and yelled in panic when he realized where he was. He pointed at Theo.

"He told us to do it, and to kill Kosai too. If we didn't, he was going to kill our families. We had to!" Shàn said frantically, as if judgment had already been passed on him. He grabbed his head with both hands and leaned forward, groaning in pain.

"These boys are the liars. They escaped from my custody and I expected to find them in their bunks when I returned. I was wrong. I did not expect them to be so... so rebellious. I am truly sorry for my error." He bowed low and sat down.

"You know good and well what you told us to do," the boy said. "You are the one who disturbed us during our study. You are the one who told us what to do. You promised our families safety. Now that you've turned on us, are you going to turn on our families?"

"Say what you want, but I told you no such thing. You and your friends were to go out and clean the streets for skipping class. What you did, as despicable as it is, was on your own accord. You are full of spite because you got caught." There was silence. Theo sat straight in his chair with his neck tilted back slightly. He looked at his hands, the table, anything except the boy. Shàn stared coldly back at Theo.

"You are the lowest, dirtiest, most foul-smelling type of bile," Shàn said.

"Shàn," Daius said, "We do not speak like that during council." But slammed his fists on the table, his knuckles grinding into the wood.

The room was silent. Alkine, Faeris, Wysen and a few others muttered to others. Mearto whispered something to Emalee and she nodded in agreement. Daius, Theo, the Seer, and Isaac sat completely still. The stillness was broken when the Seer nodded to Mearto. Before she could speak, the Captain took a mental note of who had what kind of reaction, and then stood.

"It seems Shàn has some strong feelings against Theo," the Captain said to the group. "In my experience, I have seen what it is like when criminals try to place the blame on another individual who is innocent, and who is not. When the situation is the latter, it does not excuse the criminal, and justice must take effect." At this, both the boys frowned and looked down at the table. "I am under the impression that both boys are telling the truth and will petition their sentence to be four months in the mines of Linnouse, if anyone can substantiate what they have said." The Captain sat down and there was quiet talk amongst the Teachers for a moment and then Mearto stood.

"Captain, there is more to my story than I let you first believe. When I saw Theo and the boys leave, I went up to the Seer and expressed my concerns. He Saw the fires, and he told me where I should go and at what times. He also Saw Theo giving that order. It wasn't until you caught the boys that I was able to divulge this information.

"It is with this information," she said, speaking to everyone, "that I propose Theo be stripped of his rank as Assistant to the Head, be cursed as Nameless and be banished from this school henceforth. All in favor?" Every teacher raised their hand.

"It is done then," Daius said. Each of the teachers stood. Theo tried to run away. The other teachers stood, and black cords materialized in their hands. Each threw their black rope like a whip at Theo. Before Theo could flee the room, the cords wrapped around Theo and bound him in place, tightening around his chest and mouth so that he could not speak.

Daius spoke, but the sound of the words was like nothing Kosai had ever heard before. Shàn and his friend collapsed almost instantly. Each word, each syllable, and each letter held power. The Faye filled the room, but it was not the calming feeling that accompanied Kosai when he created sparks or meditated. He struggled to stay conscious and focused on listening to the Head Teacher recite the Unspoken.

Kosai tried listening to the words, but he felt like he woke from a deep sleep and the world was still hazy. He could hear the Unspoken, but the words sounded muffled. The Faye was not inviting, but terrible and dark, the essence of true power. The air crackled and popped and pressed against Kosai and the Captain from every side, as if they were in a box that was getting smaller and smaller.

When the Head Teacher stopped speaking, Theo lay on the ground, pale and asleep. The black cords retracted, and the Head Teacher sat in his chair, breathing heavily. Sweat dripped from his face like hot wax.

"Take him," he said weakly, waving a hand. Even the teachers seemed momentarily weakened, as if they too were compressed by the power that filled the air. The power and the pressure of the Unspoken lessened, and slowly, Isaac and Xidan moved and dragged the unconscious figure out into the hallway.

"He is no longer Theo," Daius said, a sound of exhaustion in his voice. "Every essence of that individual has been locked away, deep in the crevices of his mind, and when he wakes, he will know that he is a man, he will know how to eat, but his very identity will be lost to him. He will be like an animal, moving only on instinct. Captain, we are again in your debts. Do you still intend to take the boys to Linnouse?"

"Yes," the Captain said with serious effort. Kosai looked at his father and saw that he, too, was struggling to stay awake. "They had a choice and chose incorrectly. I still stand with my sentence of four months."

"I understand," Daius said, "though you have presented me with a new problem." He laughed softly. "I need a new assistant. That decision will be made tomorrow. Until then, this meeting is adjourned." The remaining teachers stood, as well as the Seer, and filed out of the room. Shàn and the other boy were still unconscious. Kosai was about to leave when the Captain put his hand on his shoulder.

"Mearto," he called. "The boys can stay." Mearto was about to lift one of the boys out of the chair. "I can take them, but I need to visit with Kosai for a moment."

"Of course," she said, smiling. "I'll be just outside the door to escort you out."

The Captain thanked her. Mearto waited until all the teachers were out of the room. The Seer, who seemed to walk slower than Kosai remembered, was followed out by Mearto. Kosai waited a few moments after the doors closed.

"Mearto and the Seer lied," Kosai said in a matter of fact tone. "I have never seen Mearto hesitate to accuse anyone. Something was off."

"That much was obvious to us, but I am not sure if it was obvious to the Teachers. What we can learn is that the Seer wanted him gone, for whatever reason." The Captain shook his head. "But that isn't what I wanted to talk to you about. I met again with the Council. An uprising is coming, though I don't know when." The Captain explained what happened during the meeting and the letter he received from Hemmel about preparing for the worst and the division within the council members. He talked about Paer's father being a central figure in the uprising and how Beoran admitted he and his brothers knew that the Council was betraying the routes to the nomad tribes and the following promise of a monopoly on all transports when the dust settled.

"Aldair and Thuane should be here tomorrow sometime for questioning. After I get a confession, I am going to take the guard and remove those council members who were a part of the betrayal. I can't allow an uprising to happen." The other two boys began to wake. "Do you know if the Seer has any other allies with him, or that know that he is part of the betrayal?"

"I do," Shàn said. He sat up slowly, reached in his pocket and pulled out a key. "My friends and I put together a plan in case Theo betrayed us, which he did. None of us trusted him, but he showed us that he has access to the syndicate grain stores, and out of concern for our families, we did what we did." He leaned forward and looked at Kosai. "And for what we did to you, I am sorry."

"All is forgiven," Kosai said.

"This key will open his office door. I am sure that you will be able to find letters, notes, journal entries, anything and everything against him and those that worked with him if you look hard enough." Shàn slid the key across the table and Kosai caught it.

"You will tell no one what you have heard, or you will be staying in Linnouse for the remainder of your life. Understood?" The Captain glared at both boys and they nodded. "Good. Kosai, find the division and charge the Seer and those that side with him. If what Beoran says is true, and is echoed by his brothers, then I will go to the Council and remove them from power. That gives you two days. Do what you can to prepare. Get as many people on your side as possible."

"Yes sir," Kosai said. When the Captain gave orders, Kosai executed those orders without question. Kosai trusted in his ability as a recruit, but as a conduit, that trust diminished. He took courage in the last part of the order... to get as many people on his side as possible.
CHAPTER 20

Kosai sat in Mearto's office as she pulled more books down from her shelf and set them on her desk. Kosai tapped his pants pocket, feeling for the key Shàn gave him. The matron was coming and going as well, placing books from the library on her desk, and taking some of the ones Mearto was pulling from her shelves. Once all the books were on the desk that Kosai was to read from, she placed her hand on the hourglass and looked at him.

"What did the Captain talk to you about last night?" she asked, her fingertips rolling on the brass end of the hourglass.

"I'll answer your question, if you answer one of mine," he said curtly.

"Ask away." Her hand stilled.

"Why are you so concerned with the betrayal?"

"It is the only source of food for most of the people here, without safe routes, people die," Mearto said coolly.

"That is what the caravans do, but why do you care?" he asked again.

"I don't think I understand what you mean," she said.

"Say someone poisoned the spring and we had to find out who it was. This poisoned water killed people instantly, and so now people are dying of dehydration. The fact in this scenario is that people are dying from poison and dehydration. Stating the fact is not a reason for solving the problem. Let me rephrase it then a little more forwardly. What do you have to lose if we fail in stopping the Seer?"

"More than you could ever imagine," she said bitterly, but there was a slight sound of sorrow in her too. "What did you talk to the Captain about?"

"Depends," he stayed firm, wanting a more tangible answer. "Why don't you try my imagination?" Mearto took her hand off the hourglass and walked to the side of Kosai and sat on the table. The smell of lilac and sea salt filled the room.

"And why do you have that smell about you?" he said, calmer and more relaxed.

"Question for question," she replied softly. "If the Seer isn't stopped, I will have no chance at a future family, or to meet one that I love. I do not want to be here, but the Seer trapped me against my will. I cannot escape."

"You love another?" Kosai asked, blushing slightly.

"Not yet. What did you and the Captain talk about?"

"No," Kosai retorted. "Not a word, now that I know how close you are to the Seer."

"Don't you see though," The smell grew stronger as she spoke, and Kosai felt as though he had woken from a deep sleep. "If you defeat the Seer, I can be free, and that, at this moment, is the only thing that I want." Kosai stared at her, noticing how she didn't struggle or fumble over her words. He felt she was telling the truth.

"The Captain found out that the syndicate knew the Council was behind the betrayal of the routes and blackmailed them. In return, the Council granted them full ownership of all trade routes after the expected uprising. The reason the Council, as well as the Seer, would want to purposely risk the lives of the people is beyond us. Why can't you escape?"

"I am..." Mearto sighed and took another breath. "I am... not what I seem. My blood has more power in it than the Head Teacher, more than any conduit ever had, ever has, or ever will. The Seer knows this and if he were to expose me, the Teachers would kill me without a second thought. Though I am powerful, I am not nearly powerful enough to defend myself against all of them. Was there anything else that you two talked about?"

"The Captain is bringing in Aldair and Thuane for questioning. If what they say matches with the confession of Beoran, he will remove the Council from power in two days' time. I have till then to find out who is with the Seer, their motives, and remove them. Concerning your situation, if we discredit the Seer of his power, or kill him and those who are with him within that time frame, would you be able to escape? Wait, no!" Mearto was about to answer his question but stayed silent at Kosai's sudden outburst. "That wasn't the question I wanted to ask. The answer is obviously yes." Kosai paused and furrowed his brow. "What are you then?" he asked slowly.

Mearto dimmed the light from her lamp and pulled out a candle from one of the drawers in her desk. She snapped her fingers above the wick, creating a spark and lighting the candle. Then she blew out the lamp, letting the dim glow of the candlelight fill the room.

"Tell no one of what you are about to see," she said. She placed the candle up to her face and placed her other hand over her eyes. When she removed her hand, she looked at the door. For a split second, the iris and pupil of her eyes flashed bright silver. She looked over at the bookshelf on the other side of the room, and they flashed again. "Did you see it?" she asked. Kosai nodded his head. She then put her free hand up to her eyes a second time, removed her hand from her face, lit the lamp and then blew out the candle. "The smell is... hard to explain but consider it my natural aroma. I can control it when and how I would like. Are you convinced now that I am on your side?"

"Yes," Kosai whispered.

"I can never tell you what I am Kosai, because it would endanger you, beyond the danger you are already facing." She paused. "We have two days to teach more of the combative types of channeling, as well as the defensive. I wish your Captain was able to give us more time, but considering the circumstances, I must forgive him." She looked down at the pile of books and the hourglass, still unturned. "Go meditate and commune for a half hour up in the Oasis. I will come up after that and we will begin your training then. I need time to figure out what I am going to do."

Kosai stood, bowed and exited the room. He went straight to the West Stair, skipping steps until he came to the Oasis. Chickens scratched at the ground for beetles and grubs. Bees buzzed around the air, systematically searching for sweet nectar in the vegetable and fruit blossoms. Kosai looked to the center of the Oasis. The egg-like reed chair was empty. A few teachers sat close to the center of the Oasis, meditating and communing with the Faye. A few students walked along the perimeter, smelling flowers as they passed and talked quietly to their friends.

Leery of the bees, Kosai chose the same place Mearto directed him to the last time he communed in the Oasis. He sat cross legged on the grass with his fists on his knees. A honeybee circled him, buzzing too close for Kosai's comfort. He held his breath as the bee flew aggressively around his head, by his ear, in front of his eye, under his nose and then eventually away to find a flower. He sighed in relief and began to meditate.

[][][]

Zenith fashioned some rope out of vines, tied the canvass between two trees, and formed a hammock. His bare leg dangled listlessly out of one side. Kosai walked up to him and rocked the hammock. Zenith jerked awake and rubbed his eyes in the sunlight.

"Good to see you," Zenith said groggily.

"We don't have a lot of time." Zenith stuck out a hand, and Kosai helped him out of the hammock.

"I am aware of your situation," he said as he stretched. He looked off into the ocean and Kosai followed his gaze. Out on the horizon, dark storm clouds rolled across the waves. The lightning bolts, like white oars, seemed to push the storm closer to shore. Zenith slowly pulled his sight away from the coming storm

"You have less than two days to build up enough endurance to stand on your own against the Seer, and possibly the rest of the teachers. Correct?"

"Yes," Kosai said.

"Impossible," Zenith said quickly. Then he squatted down and began to draw a circular pattern in the ground. "You would die the moment you tried to match their endurance. There, done." Zenith stood up and wiped sand off his finger. "I want you to attack me."

Kosai took a step forward and struck out with a solid fist. Inches before impact, Kosai's arm collided with what felt like a feather mattress. Zenith stood, unflinchingly and smiled back. Kosai tried again and got the same affect.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"That circle," Zenith pointed at the ground in front of him "is a Circle of Power. It draws on the power that already resides in the earth. If that circle remains intact, you cannot penetrate that space."

Kosai knelt by the circle and traced the lines with his own finger, trying to memorize every turn and symbol.

"How are you teaching me this?" Kosai asked. "I thought you were just a part of my subconscious. How can you teach me something I don't know?"

"Simply put, I am not a part of your subconscious. That is one error in the teachings of the school I failed to correct before it was too late. Objects reside in the subconscious but are, as I am, a manifestation of the Faye. You are the blood of his blood and the flesh of his flesh and only I hold the knowledge to defeating him, as well as many other teachings of the Faye. I have been manifested to you to prepare you for what lies ahead."

Kosai looked down at the sand and examined the Circle of Power. He began to trace the circle again. As his finger reached the top of the circle, he dragged his fingers down, breaking the Circle of Power, stood up, and punched Zenith in the gut. Zenith doubled over, trying to catch his breath.

"And that is one of its weaknesses," Zenith said weakly.

"The Circles of Power, do they have to be drawn on ground, or walls? Would it work if I drew one on the inside of my hand or arm for example?"

"No, that wouldn't work. The Circles channel energy from the earth, where the most Faye resides. If you were to draw one on yourself, it would sap you of your strength immediately. These are of the best use when you are setting a trap or wanting to conceal something." Zenith finally stood and arched backwards, stretching his stomach.

"What about offense?" Kosai asked.

Zenith looked around and walked into the woods. There were two loud snaps, and then he returned with two sticks. He gave them to Kosai, placing one in each hand.

"At this point, there isn't much I can teach you that would be of any worth. Even something as simple as incapacitating force, like the ones the boys used when they tried to kill you, would take everything, if not most, out of you. Instead, light these sticks."

Kosai closed his eyes, held both sticks with his left hand, and placed his right-on Zenith's shoulder. The Faye pulsed through his body like a churning river. Each vein in his body seemed to vibrate with new blood. He removed his hand from Zenith's shoulder and placed it above the sticks. He thought back to his training with Mearto, imagining the sensations of fire, burning, smoke, heat, and tender skin. He imagined the orange, red and blue colors of a flickering flame. He imagined this fire brewing inside of him, burning brighter until it became a white-hot essence. With his mind, he pushed this essence out of his body, through his arm, and onto the two sticks. They smoldered for a moment and then burst into flame like a struck match. When he heard the wood popping, he opened his eyes and held a stick in each hand. Kosai breathed heavily.

"Good," Zenith said. "See how exhausted you feel?" Kosai nodded. "The fire that you have created is not the same fire I could create by a match, or flint and steel. Your fire is of the Faye, and knowing this, you can control it however you wish.

"In the Barracks, you were taught that any weapon was an extension of your body and you had to learn to control that weapon as you would a hand or finger or leg. This is the same principle. If you stay mentally connected to this fire, it cannot harm you no matter where it goes or what you do with it."

"How do I attack with it?" Kosai asked.

"The same way you punch someone, the same way you walk, the same way you do anything."

Kosai looked at the fire that was halfway down the two sticks. He could still feel the fire burning within him and as he thought of making the fire grow, the flames on the sticks grew and burned faster. He thought about dimming the fire, and the flame lessened.

"Now pull the flame onto your hands," Zenith said. "Remember, it cannot hurt you."

Kosai looked at both flames that came closer and closer to his hand. He felt for the connection to the flame, and like a child clumsily putting on a pair of gloves, the fire crawled and ebbed onto his fingers, inched up the back of his hand and halfway up his forearms. Once the fire stilled and left the sticks, Kosai dropped them in the sand and looked at his arms. There was a soothing warmness that covered his body, though it wasn't from the fire.

He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling. It was like a warm jet of air being blown into the center of his chest. The feeling suddenly split in two segments and flowed into each arm.

"That is the meaning of being a conduit," Zenith said. "That flow of constant energy will grow as you practice. Use what you have learned here and combine it with the fighting arts you have learned from the Guard, and you should be able to hold your own against the Seer... I hope."

[][][]

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder, and he woke from his meditation. He looked down at his arms, expecting to find the flame but there was nothing. Mearto stood at his side with a calm but concerned look.

"We need to talk." She removed her hand and walked east on the perimeter of the Oasis. Kosai was silent and kept pace with Mearto, waiting for her to speak.

"I was called into a meeting while I was in the middle of your next lesson plan. I don't know why he would do this," she whispered. "It's never been done in the entire history of this school. I have no idea what he is thinking, or even how it was approved. There was some dissension and definite division, but the ruling still stands."

"What are you talking about?" Kosai whispered back.

"Head Teacher Daius has chosen you to be his next Assistant."

"But the next assistant is supposed to be one of the teachers."

"Yes, it is. I was against it, as were the Teachers who were in favor with your arrival. The Seer, Xidan and Isaac were for it."

"I suppose the Seer and the Head Teacher want me as close to them as possible before the uprising. Are you still going to be teaching me?" Kosai asked.

"No. Today will be the last day that you and I have together as pupil and mentor. I want you to get some lunch, and then meet me in the arena. You have a half hour."

"Yes ma'am," Kosai said militaristically though he didn't salute.

Kosai ran ahead to the West Stair and cautiously skipped stairs by two on his way down. He walked briskly towards the mess hall but stopped and looked at the Teachers' offices. He tapped his pocket again, making sure that the key was still there. The book that wrote itself was tucked away in his shirt. He would only need to be in the room for a moment. He listened and waited to see if anyone would pass by. Comfortable that he would be undisturbed, he quietly walked to Theo's office, put the key in the door handle, turned the knob, walked in, and closed the door behind him.

Papers were stacked on his desk, on the floor, in his chair and some were nailed to the door. There were two simple wooden stools in front of the desk with a high backed, velvet padded, dark wood chair behind. The office was much like Mearto's in structure, but not at all in décor. Papers and more papers filled the bookshelf that was behind the chair. For a moment, the room reminded him of the syndicate office, with their papers strewn about with quills and oil wells, but as he stepped towards the bookshelf, he noticed a system.

Each paper was dated and each shelf represented a month. Papers on the bottom were earliest in the month while those closer to the top were later. Kosai quickly counted the shelves and cases. All in all, there were thirty-five shelves, holding almost three years of information, not including the other papers in the desk and elsewhere.

Quickly and cautiously, he opened the book that wrote itself to the sixth page, licked his thumb, and pressed it into the book. Words quickly appeared.

I have everything, the book wrote, understanding Kosai's intent. Kosai closed the book, tucked into his shirt and crouched next to the door, listening again for anyone walking in the hall. Hearing nothing, he exited the office and locked the door behind him.

Lunch consisted of sliced pears in a honey and garlic dipping sauce with two boiled eggs on the side. Kosai inhaled the meal, wincing slightly at the garlic taste and then rushed back to his bunk. He wagered he had twenty minutes or so to find out what he could about Theo and those that sided with him. He opened again to the sixth page.

I can tell we are short on time. I can also tell what you are searching for. Still, remember your first lesson...

"Patience," Kosai said. He calmed himself by breathing steady streams of air. The words from Theo's journal began to appear.

If you are reading this, there are two things that are for certain. One: I have been cursed as Nameless by the Head Teacher. He and the Seer have betrayed me. Isaac and Xidan probably helped me out of the room. Two: the uprising of the people against the government is about to occur. I, and my former companions, worked hard under the direction of Jaiken, as ordered by the Council, to destroy the syndicate as much as possible. Their cooperation in the matter, knowing that the Council is trying to start an uprising, could not be trusted. Without proof of the contract, they had nothing. The Three Brothers were foolish to have but one contract made and it played to our favor.

The plan was the Seer's to begin with. When people are fed, they are content, he claimed. It was up to us to ensure that it stayed that way. The people needed to trust us, needed to believe that we are on their side. Commerce was destined to fail. The only money that flows into this city is tuition. The craftsman and graduates of the various schools leave to other cities. There is no revenue to be taxed. Beyond education, there is no money here. Noiknaer has no resources like Linnouse. No point of trade like Port Rasmú, no thriving business like Anteperil.

Part of the blame is with the Three Brothers. They have too much power over the people, over the trade, and horde away their excess so they can charge higher prices. I have seen their grain stores and reported my findings to the Seer. Once the Syndicate is destroyed, those stores will be ours to distribute to the people. But our strike against them had to wait until the opportune moment.

We have been listening to the people. We know they are preparing a revolt to raid against the capital and tear down the oppressors. The fire in the Tangle and at the syndicate school was just the right size of chaos to start the revolt. After the Guard suppresses the people, the Council will open the grain stores that belonged to the syndicate. The people will appreciate our great efforts. This should incentivize craftsman and artists to stay, as we would be feeding them, and people would have to come to Noiknaer for their fine wares. It would be the rebirth of a great city again.

I was expecting my own betrayal and set a plan in motion so that, even though I would have no memory of this school, my revenge would still take effect. Chances are that you, the one reading this, are Kosai, Wolf of the Capital Barracks. I purposely left a key on my desk and left momentarily, expecting Shàn or one of his friends to take it. I knew that if the Teachers betrayed me, I would become Nameless and I would have no direction to aid you.

Daius, Viktor, Xidan and Isaac are all with the Seer in the betrayal of the caravan routes to the nomads, though I am unsure why. They have worked closely with the Council in their dealings and betrayal, but all my due diligence has led me to this. Let Emalee, Jacqueline, Wysen, Faeris, Chaerell, and Alkine know what you now know and let them help you exact my revenge. Lastly, know that Mearto will stand against you in the end, no matter what she has told you. Train hard and destroy the Seer.

Kosai shut the book and tucked it away in his shirt. The Head Teacher and the Seer were against him, as he suspected, but it bothered him that Theo would accuse Mearto of betrayal in the end.

"Only if I fail," Kosai whispered. Mearto was his mentor. Though Kosai suspected her in the beginning, he knew now that she protected him during those long hours in her office. She watched out for him, taught him, and even healed him. She aided Kosai and the Captain to discover the betrayer of the routes, and together, they made a case against the Council. Kosai promised himself that he would kill the Seer and free her from whatever hold he had on her, it would be the least he could do in return for her work and effort.

CHAPTER 21

Mearto was already in the arena when Kosai arrived. She was barefoot and wore a white shirt with brown trousers. Kosai looked down at his own uniform, concerned that he forgot to change.

"Was I supposed to wear some sparring clothes?" he asked.

"No, you will need all the protection that uniform can provide."

"I thought you would have understood by now," he said as he took off his shirt and tossed it into a nearby chair in the viewing area, "I learn best by jumping in with both feet."

"You will wear your uniform when the time comes." Kosai nodded. "Good. First, make a connection with the Faye."

Kosai closed his eyes and was on the beach again. Zenith was standing on the beach looking out into the storm. It was much closer since the last time he meditated. He walked up to Zenith and placed his hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes, feeling the small stream of power flowing into his body.

"Good," Mearto said. "Now let that feeling grow, focus on it until you can feel that channel not just in your chest, but every part of your body."

Kosai closed his eyes again and focused on the small stream of power that was flowing into his body. To him, the source felt like a small pinprick close to his heart. He focused on the opening and it expanded. More and more of the Faye flowed through his body. As he concentrated, the opening grew until he felt his skin tingle slightly. His mind was empty of thought. His vision blurred, but Mearto's appearance was clear to him. His breathing was calm, his body relaxed, and with each heartbeat he could feel the Faye filling him with power.

"Very good," Mearto said. "This is how it feels to be a conduit. Each time you commune with the Faye, this feeling will grow and at the same time, become less intense as you become use to the Faye flowing in you. The power that you feel inside you will obey you and manifest in any way you will it to. Remember, strong will, strong manifestation. I will begin attacking you. I want you to take the Faye within you and will up a wall to defend my attacks."

Kosai nodded. Mearto attacked.

She threw her hands forward. Two lightning bolts shot out. Kosai dove out of the way, dragging his feet in the dirt. Mearto took advantage of the opportunity and shot at him again. Kosai somersaulted backwards and then towards Mearto. She shot again. Kosai breathed and cast his hands in front of him, thinking and willing up a wall. The lightning bolt struck the invisible wall and spread like a spider web. Kosai began to circle Mearto, fending off her bolts with his newly learned defense.

"I'm impressed," she said. Kosai continued to circle her. "Now I want you to deflect my attack, and create one of your own. It is the same way with the wall. Only this time, you need to focus on a type of attack." She shot out another bolt, Kosai spun out of the way and towards her. She shot another and Kosai created another wall.

Kosai thought back to his training on the beach and seeing his arms engulfed in flames. He thought of those same feelings and pushed the Faye into his hands. His knuckles ignited and the fire spread over his fists and forearms.

"I've been practicing," he said. He fell into a left-forward fighting stance, left foot forward, arms and hands at eye level, bent at a ninety-degree angle, as if he were training at the Barracks again.

"I'm very impressed," Mearto said, shooting another bolt. Kosai dodged left, turning away from Mearto. He slid his feet in the dirt, almost dancing as he circled her a second time. "Now take that fire and direct it at me."

The words from Zenith echoed in his mind. The same way you punch somebody. Kosai concentrated on the fire and struck out at Mearto in a closed fist. A fire ball launched from his fist and went straight for her left leg. She moved back and to her right. Kosai did this again, shooting at her legs, moving her with his fire and blocking her bolts with his walls.

"Come on Kosai! Hit me!" she yelled. Kosai continued to strike at her legs, moving her left, right, back, left again, and turning her with his fire. They moved like two dance partners who stood across the room from each other. Kosai stopped moving, lowered his hands and smiled. Mearto struck at him with another bolt. The bolt stopped an inch from his face and spread around him like a cocoon but did no harm. She launched at him again and again but Kosai stood unaffected. She stopped and looked down at the ground, back tracking all her steps and saw what Kosai had done. Guiding her with his attacks, and carefully dodging hers, he created a large Circle of Power that defended him from her attacks.

"You have been practicing," she said. Kosai dug his foot deep into the ground and dragged it across one of the lines, breaking the Circle.

"They are useful, but fickle. Let's get back to training."

Each minute that passed became more intense than the last. More than once, Kosai's barrier broke and the lightning zapped his arms and legs, locking his muscles in place. When a bolt struck at his chest, he fell over and clutched at his heart. Mearto ran over and placed her hand on his chest, healing the wounds. After a half hour, Kosai was exhausted. He held up his hands in defeat and leaned against the wall, close to where his shirt was.

"You have lasted much longer than I anticipated. Let's break for fifteen minutes and then start again." Kosai agreed and wiped the sweat from his face and chest with his shirt.

"Tomorrow is the day," Kosai said. "Daius, Viktor, Xidan and Isaac are all with the Seer in the betrayal. That leaves Alkine, Chaerell, Faeris, Emalee, Jacqueline and Wysen either on our side or unaware. I was thinking that tomorrow morning we could have a special training session with them, both to prepare and to let them into our confidence."

"How were you able to figure who's with who?" Kosai reached into his pocket and pulled out the key to Theo's office.

"A group of boys wanted to get even," Kosai smiled and twirled the key in his hand. "And Theo was expecting his own betrayal from the Seer." He slid the key back into his pocket. "Tell me one thing. It was obvious to the Captain and me that what the Seer and you said was a lie. What really happened?"

"The Seer actually told him what to do and how to do it. I, because of my... situation with the Seer, had to support him. I wasn't proud of what I did and had I called the Seer out, I probably wouldn't be teaching you, and you and your Captain would probably be dead. It is extremely fortunate that you could compile a list of potential allies. You and I will not be able to defeat the Seer and those with him on our own."

"You don't think Daius knew that the Seer was lying? Do you?"

"I think the Head Teacher knew exactly what he was doing. Theo was a very powerful conduit and the only advantage that the Head Teacher had over him was his knowledge of the Unspoken. The Head Teacher may look gentle but is a true beast on the inside."
CHAPTER 22

The next morning, Kosai dressed hurriedly and headed to the mess hall. Breakfast consisted of eggs with minced spinach. After making quick work of his meal, he rushed over to the arena. He hurried his morning routine because he needed to ask Zenith another question. He sat cross legged in the dirt, put his hands on his knees and began to meditate.

[][][]

The sky was grey. A cold wind blew off the water, bringing with it a small shower. Zenith had wrapped himself with his tarp like a robe, tied the rope around his waist and was looking out at the coming storm.

"I wager it will be here this evening. Looks like a bad one too," he said, not looking at Kosai.

"The Circle of Power that you showed me, can it be carved in a talisman, or a stone floor? You carved one into a wall."

"A talisman is possible, though dangerous, especially if you lost possession of it. Placing a large circle, like the one you did yesterday, impressive as it was, is in practicality, useless. If you would have attacked Mearto, she too would have been protected from harm. There is a project I want you to start on, however. Follow me." Zenith turned away from the shore and headed inland. Kosai followed and again, the beach and all its sounds, including the storm, disappeared and changed into the silent forest. They walked a little way inward to the clearing. The altar that had burned during his last deep meditation was gone.

"You still need to destroy me to become a full conduit. I figured we could begin by building the altar. Mearto taught you to focus on the energy coming into your body when you have made a connection to the Faye. To build the altar, you must look past that connection and focus on where the Faye comes from."

"The earth," Kosai said softly.

"Focus on that energy and will up a stone altar. I can't explain it any better than that."

Kosai closed his eyes and focused on the stream of energy flowing into his body. He looked past the opening. He felt that he was disappearing in a wave of power. The energy of the earth tossed him forward and back, carried him in one direction and then many directions at the same time. His knees began to shake, and Zenith held him by his arms.

"I said to focus on it, not become it," he said. Kosai opened his eyes and took a step back. Two images instantly came to his mind, one of a small circle of power and another of Vilheim's vial.

"The vial you gave to my mother, you put a Circle of Power on it. It is etched in the glass. That is why no one has been able to kill him. It wasn't a simple token of affection; it was a real protective charm."

"And that is why I do not advise you carve a Circle of Power onto anything portable. Even though it was small, the glass, the wooden cork, the leather strap, all came from the earth, and in a small way, still maintains the connection. The talisman can only be broken by a word of the Unspoken. Consequences can sometimes far outweigh the initial action. All that is in the past and now it is your duty to put a stop to my mistake. I wanted you to build an altar, but I think we will soon be out of time. This lesson wasn't without total failure. What you have experienced is the Faye, not as it flows through you, but as it is. If you can control yourself in its massive current, you will be able to sense things before they happen."

Mearto placed her hand on Kosai's shoulder, ending his mediation and communion. Six other teachers stood around him in a circle.

"Have you told them?" Kosai asked quietly.

"No, I thought I would leave that to you," Mearto said. Kosai nodded, stood, and faced the other teachers. "From left to right are Alkine, Chaerell, Faeris, Emalee, Jacqueline and Wysen." Kosai knew their names, but felt assured seeing their faces.

"You are the teachers who voted that I should come to this school and prepare to defeat the Dark One," Kosai began. "But that was not my only intention." Kosai told them about his mission to find the betrayer and gave a short synopsis of his time at the school. He explained how the Seer was in league with the other teachers and the council in betraying the trade routes. The teachers were not surprised. Some nodded their heads, as if they had guessed that the betrayal was within their own walls, others looked at Kosai inquisitively. "Today, the Captain is interrogating Aldair, Beoran and Thuane of the Three Brothers," he continued, "and if their stories line up, he will charge the members of the council with treason, impeach them, and hang them. It is our goal to remove the Seer and those that side with him before that happens."

"You're asking us to rise against our own mentors," Jacqueline said. "These are people we have known for longer than you have been alive and not once have I suspected them of any misdoing."

"Open your eyes," Faeris said. "It was clear to me. Yes, we do have a history together, but their actions are killing others. I have one concern however. How are we to remove the other Teachers, including Daius? Who would take his place? He has no assistant and none of us know any of the words of the Unspoken."

"It is my belief that the Head Teacher will side with us," said Mearto. "Though he is against us at his heart, he will not allow power to be taken from him. When we charge the Seer and the others with treason, I think it would be wise to leave the Head Teacher out and let him believe that we have not suspected him in anyway.

"You all voted against Kosai becoming the next Assistant, but the vote stood. Kosai will become the new Assistant today, and after we remove the Seer, he will begin to learn the Unspoken. This will keep the Head Teacher comfortable with his position, and eventually, we will be able to charge him as well."

"And what about the special training session, was this it?" Wysen asked in his shaky voice. Kosai recognized him as the teacher that visited with Theo and Daius when he discovered the other prophecy, and the reasons Theo wanted him dead.

"No," Kosai said. Wysen smiled mischievously. "I doubt that the Seer and his allies are going to allow us to remove them from this school peacefully. I want to be useful in the process and I am asking, if you would all attack me at once. I have a plan on how to best make use of my limitations."

Kosai removed his shirt again and placed it over the banister. He looked at the blue stripe running down the side and thought about the Captain's favorite piece of advice.

"The pain is good for you, it will make you stronger," he said to himself. He thought back to when he sparred with the Captain and received the coupling portion of that advice. Pain is a good teacher, but a poor master. Kosai shook the thought away and walked towards the center of the arena. Mearto motioned for the teachers to surround him in a circle.

He closed his eyes, took a breath, made the connection to the Faye and felt its power flowing into him. When he opened his eyes, he clenched his fists. Fire erupted on his knuckles and quickly covered his forearms. "Don't hold back," he said.

He heard a crack behind him and sidestepped, seeing a fire ball shoot past him. He turned to face the attacker. He punched forward, sending his own fireball in Faeris' direction. Just as he launched the fireball, there was a bolt from Mearto. Kosai willed up a wall and ran left towards Alkine just before it shattered. Alkine hollered in panic and spun in the dirt. Wind shot out from him in all directions, creating a small sandstorm. Kosai used the cover and slid his feet forward, pushing further into the wind.

When his foot met Alkine's, he punched forward, striking the teacher in the ribs, and then swung a back fist into his jaw. But before Alkine went down, Kosai felt a cold stab in his back. A black rope slithered through the dirt and wrapped itself around Kosai's arm, and another around his neck. Kosai tried to fight free, but he was too late. The brown cloud of dirt turned black and Kosai passed out.

"You barely lasted a minute against all of us," he heard Mearto say. Kosai opened his eyes and saw some of the teachers standing around him. Alkine stood next to Mearto, but there was no bruise or welt to the side of his face. Kosai looked at him curiously. Suddenly, a dull throbbing pain erupted on his mouth. He assumed that Mearto slapped his face to wake him.

"How did you do that?" he asked Alkine.

"The moment you stepped in my storm, you failed. I had you believe that you were attacking me, when really you were just standing there like a punching bag. Don't always trust what you see."

"Again," Kosai said. Mearto placed a hand down to help him up, but he brushed it aside. "Leave me alone, I can get up myself." He staggered up on his own and walked to the center of the arena. "Again!" Kosai said louder and with more command... and then froze.

A memory came to him of Deakon sparring with Lieutenant Nuevon. He had jump kicked the lieutenant and missed. Before he hit the ground, Nuevon struck his shoulder into the Deakon's gut. He could see the frustration and immaturity in his face. Another memory, when he was laid up in the medical wing, unable to move, completely reliant on everyone. He would still be there if it wasn't for her. He was put there because of his arrogance. During his Awakening, he would have drowned in the ocean, but Mearto saved his life and helped him become a forced-conduit. He was standing in the arena because of the help from others.

He looked at his arms, his legs and his chest. Though he was the Wolf of the Capital Barracks, he realized he was not as strong as first thought.

"I'm sorry," he said, ashamed of his behavior, realizing that in the arena, he was an arrogant untalented young man who overestimated his own ability.

"That is what we wanted you to learn," Mearto said. "Not one of us, not even the Head Teacher, would be able to defeat all of us by himself. Humility and patience are some of the best lessons you can learn."

"Patience..." The word stuck in Kosai's mind like a glob of molasses. It seemed to be the answer for everything at the school and now, Kosai was ready to begin believing it.
CHAPTER 23

Aldair and Thuane stood in shackles outside the Captain's office, with four guards surrounding them. Each guard was in full dress and armed with a long spear. Aldair, already tall and pale, had purple bags under his eyes and his once proud tall posture was now bent and stooped. Thuane's arrogant, distant smile was replaced with a frown. Sweat speckled his forehead and upper lip even though the morning air was slightly cool. The door to the Captain's office opened and a guard came out.

"Enter," the guard said. The guards turned on their heels and escorted Aldair and Thuane into the office. There were two chairs. The Captain sat in his chair with a note in front of him.

"Sit," the Captain ordered calmly, gesturing to the chairs. The two were taken by the arms and forced to sit by the guards. "It seems during our last meeting that I was asking the both of you the wrong questions, and I blame myself. You two, and your friend Beoran, would have been the richest men in the country, possibly in all history."

"What do you mean?" Thuane asked nervously. Aldair shot him a cold glance.

"Beoran has explained the whole thing to me, how he received the contract from the Council on the monopoly of trade routes, contracting a portion of the government contract to transport a comparatively small amount of goods and hiding the letters in the grain stores and cloth. It was all very clever."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Thuane said again. Aldair shook his head but the Captain disregarded it. "You have no proof of it. Say that there was a contract. It would have been burnt in the fire."

"As well as everything else," Aldair said to Thuane. "Don't you get it? I may still have the entire inventory on record, and you may have all the finances penned down in your school, but all of the contracts, all of our agreements, everything from wagon manufacturers, to suon breeders, are gone."

"And we can rebuild," Thuane said. "We have the resources. You just give up too easily. It was quite the tragedy to see Beoran's life go up in smoke, but I don't think this has been the most difficult trial the Three Brothers have faced."

"Beoran confessed. He told the Captain everything. You heard it right out of his mouth!" Aldair shouted, his pale face turning red.

"I don't believe him. Beoran was confused, desperate too. I think he would say anything to ensure his next meal, not that it would do him good to go without a few meals if you know what I mean." Thuane patted his belly and laughed nervously.

"Guards, release Aldair for a moment," the Captain ordered. The guard to Aldair's right took a key from his belt and inserted it into Aldair's right shackle and then his left. "Now Aldair, I believe you have something for me."

Aldair reached in his shirt and pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to the Captain. The Captain unfolded it, held it in front of him and began to read aloud.

"'Aldair, the contracts have just been finalized with the Council and it seems our threat worked as well as could be expected.'" The Captain paused and looked at Thuane. Thuane was growing pale.

"Anyone could have written that," he said. The Captain continued reading.

"'They are expecting the uprising to be soon, and after it has failed, we will have full access to all trade routes and transport services. There is a group within our company that is planning on breaking off, but we will deal with them as we have with the others. Beoran has the contract, and each council member has sealed it in their own blood with the mark of the Dueling Serpents. Congratulations Aldair. To our fortune and success, signed Thuane.' Oh, and it is signed with the same Serpent mark in blood. May I see your thumb?"

One of the guards turned Thuane's hand upwards, showing a scab in the center of his thumb.

"Do you remember that letter?" Aldair asked Thuane. He turned to the Captain. "Councilor Steran, Councilor Simmons, Councilor Kevyn, and Councilor Aleal were the ones we worked with in organizing the monopoly."

Thuane was silent and pale; his hands shook slightly on the armrests.

"Before Lieutenant Nuevon left for Linnouse," the Captain said, "I gave him a letter addressed to Aldair. He was ordered to give it to him on his arrival and that Aldair should come quietly. In that letter, I promised him that if he would provide evidence that the Three Brothers knew of the Syndicate's uprising and donated the excess inventory to supporting the people of Noiknaer, all would be forgiven. I chose Aldair over you because I knew, from his character and understanding of the situation, that I would have his full cooperation, while you, Thuane, I knew would deny everything."

"How dare you!" Thuane yelled. "You swore to be loyal to the Three Brothers. You signed a pact in blood, your blood."

"And who is going to conduct the punishment. It was an arrangement between the three of us. Beoran has already betrayed us and is at the Gates as we speak. You will be there soon while I will be assisting the Captain in maintaining order." Aldair turned to the Captain and bowed low. "Thank you, Captain. I am in your service."

"Good. Where are your grain stores? Are they here in Noiknaer?"

"Some are here in Noiknaer in our distribution center, others are in Linnouse, but most is in Port Rasmú."

"Do what you can to get as much grain here as fast as you can. Perhaps the enticement of food will subdue the people." Aldair bowed again and left with two guards escorting him. "You two," he said pointing to the guards that were over Thuane. "Take him to the Gates. Then tell Nuevon that we need him and twenty senior guardsmen to meet in full dress out front immediately. Twenty is just enough to raise suspicion, but not alarm. We're going to pay a visit to the Council immediately."

The two guards saluted and pulled Thuane out of his chair and shoved him into a march. Thuane scowled but said nothing as walked out of the office.

Kosai's sword was in a box behind his desk. He opened the box and held the curved blade in his right hand and unsheathed it with his left. His arm was still in a cast. He could not grip the handle firmly enough and he winced as he swung it gently in front of him. His arm twitched in pain and the blade began to shake slightly. Cautiously, he switched the blade to his right hand and the sheath to his left, sheathed the blade and clipped it on his left side.

The Guard organized quickly and stood in a four-by-five block with Nuevon in front. All stood at attention when the Captain walked down the stairs. Each guard held a spear in their right hand, a saber on their left hip and a shield on their back. Their torsos were protected with a white padded shirt and chainmail. The Captain took his place at the front of the Guard and turned to address the group.

"Today, we are removing a portion of the council from power. We have discovered that they are the reason many of our own caravans have failed, and by extension, why many of the people have died from starvation. Resistance is not expected. We will march to the Gate and then turn on West Road. We will march to the Council building. When we are close to the Council room, the ten more senior members will break off and make their way to the upper council seating area. The rest of you will line up behind me. Understood?"

"Yes sir," the guards said.

The Captain led the march and the guards followed every order, held tight formation in every turn, changed formation in an instant when needed. The crowd in Market Street pushed themselves up against the walls and fell silent as the guard passed.

Once in the Capital building, Nuevon led the ten senior members to the upper seating area of the Council room. The other ten stayed in a straight line and followed the Captain to the main entrance of the council room. He nodded to the two guards at the door. They pushed the two doors aside and ran in behind the Captain, taking formation. Once inside, Hemmel stepped in formation as well. The thirteen guards that were with the Captain stood in a line behind him, and then ten more senior members stood behind the council members. Luckily, only the council members occupied the room, the rest of the chairs void of the respective representatives.

"What is the meaning of this?" Councilor Steran yelled, standing in front of her chair. The guard behind her put his hand on her shoulder and forced her to sit.

"This council has thieves among it. They have stolen life from the city and killed many. No one would have expected it. On the charges of genocide, I am placing the following individuals under arrest: Councilor Steran, Councilor Simmons, Councilor Kevyn, and Councilor Aleal. They will be escorted to the Gates immediately to await their trial and punishment."

"Captain," Councilor Rodrick stood. "Though I do not particularly care for Steran and her associates, I must ask as the head of this council, what evidence do you have to support your claim?"

"I have confession from all three head members of the Three Brothers. They knew that the council ordered the trade routes to be compromised and blackmailed members of this council for a monopoly on the trade routes. They have been arrested and are carrying out their sentences working at the Gates. Your punishment," he said looking directly at Simmons, "will be much quicker and much more severe."

"How were you planning on giving them a monopoly?" Rodrick asked Steran. "Do you think we would just lie down and let that measure pass?"

"No," a dark, crackling, rumbling voice said. A black haze quickly settled in the room. The Captain grabbed his left arm, instantly recognizing the voice. "I expected you to die."

Vilheim appeared from the right side of the Council. The guard lifted their spears but didn't move. Vilheim, shrouded in black mist, pointed his club at Rodrick. Black flames shot out and encapsulated him. They jumped from Rodrick, to Evaan, and then to Nicóla. There were no screams, only the sound of sizzling skin and muscle.

"Hold!" the Captain ordered.

"Yes, hold," Vilheim said bitterly and mockingly. Some of the senior guard members had begun to draw their swords but stayed still at the Captain's command.

"These that remain have received a gift from me that only I can revoke. You cannot kill them as you cannot kill me. They are mine, Captain."

The Captain didn't respond but stared up into the Vilheim's glowing, amber eyes.

"You have other duties to attend to now, Captain." Vilheim walked in front of the council members and guard. The black flame died out leaving only charred skeletons. He dumped the councilors' bodies over the banister as he walked by them, the blackened bones disintegrating into ash as they fell. "As we speak, nomads are attacking the city. But that is not all. The people are rioting in the streets. The uprising has begun." When he dumped the last body over the banister, he walked back over to Rodrick's chair and sat. "You can do nothing here, Captain."

"You planned this from the beginning," the Captain said. "Take the food away and people revolt," his voice grew louder, "when people revolt, people die, and you still kill those that stood in your way. Why?" he screamed. "What do you want with the city, or with us?"

"I have a purpose for you yet. I want you to go calm the people and defend the city. And I swear to you, Captain, that if you and your guard keep an oath of peace, that you will not rise against me or this council in anyway, and we seal it in our own blood, I will spare your son's life."

"Kosai," the Captain whispered. He looked down at the ground and then back at his guards. "Kosai will kill you. The Seer saw that."

"It could be that he will kill me, but the future is malleable, changeable, like water, and he may fail. Right now, your son is only an insect compared to my power."

"And that insect bit your arm, did he not."

"A mere mosquito," Vilheim grabbed his wrist, changed into a dark plume of smoke and jetted down the floor. He materialized and stood in front of the Captain. "That was a lack in foresight," he forcefully and sharply, leaning towards the Captain. "If I wanted him dead, I could have easily killed him, just as I have killed these councilmen. I still have a purpose for him as I have a purpose for you. Will you agree to my oath?"

"You will not harm the members of my guard. Swear to me that you will not harm them."

"They will suffer no harm by me or my subjects, though I shall not give them my gift."

"Then I swear it," the Captain said.

"As do I," Vilheim took a couple steps back and withdrew a syndicate ring from his pocket.

"No, we will not make our oath with that," the Captain drew Kosai's blade, "but with this." Vilheim let out an audible snarl. "This blade will cut you, will it not?"

"I placed my blood on that blade for his purposes, not yours. It will cut me," he said coldly. The Captain handed the blade to one of his guards.

"You will cut my hand, and then his," the Captain said. The guard did not hesitate. He pulled the blade along the Captain's right palm until his hand was filled with blood. Vilheim removed his spiked glove, revealing a black hand that was more of darkness and shadow than flesh. He growled as the blade sliced across his hand, his palm filling with a black liquid. The two shook hands with a firm grip. Vilheim held a firm gaze, his arm shaking from the cut of the blade. The Captain broke in a sweat as the black blood burned into his hand.

"It is done," Vilheim said as they released. The Captain did not reply. He ran out of the building with his guard closely behind him. The guard rushed to the pavilion and stopped. People screamed. The orange glow of fire and the black billowing smoke rose all around them. Deakon rushed down from Market Street and saluted the Captain when he reached him.

"Nomads have scaled the gate. Members of the guard have organized patrols to beat them back, but the people are also revolting against us. We await your orders sir."

"Tell the guard to not kill the civilians," the Captain said. "If they attack, knock them out." The Captain looked over at the fires again. "Find the other recruits and get started putting out those fires."

Deakon saluted and ran off to the Barracks.

"Lieutenant Nuevon. Get as many archers as you can on the roofs of the building surrounding the Gate. Then set up a secondary perimeter around them. The rest of you are with me."

The Captain ran towards the Gate and looked at the School of the Faye as he passed by. The two beggars sat peacefully with their metal pans in front of them, chanting their incantations.

"Good luck, Kosai."
CHAPTER 24

The teachers gave mild accolades to Kosai in learning his lesson, and then left, leaving Mearto and Kosai alone. As soon as the arena was clear, Mearto wasted no time in beginning the exercises.

Kosai left his shirt off, taking the blows in full. Mearto changed her tactics and instead of casting bolts from her hands, shot out balls of green glowing power that exploded on impact. To Kosai, it felt like being punched by the Captain tenfold.

Every time Kosai was knocked out and revived, he was given a fifteen-minute respite for meditation and communion. These brief sessions were different than the others. Each time the storm grew fiercer. Wind blew the rain across the beach, pelting the side of his face, reminding him of storm he faced during his Awakening. Waves crashed on the shore of the beach with ferocity, sucking sand back into the sea and spewing up various forms of flotsam. Zenith sat silently on the beach, the tarp wrapped around him in a makeshift robe, a portion placed over his head.

Each meditation began in the same way in that Zenith looked over his shoulder towards Kosai, and then patted a portion of sand for him to sit on. Kosai did so and placed a hand on Zenith's shoulder for the necessary communion. The communion performed, Zenith sighed and then shook his head.

"You're still not ready," Zenith would always say.

"What does this storm mean?" Kosai always replied, but Zenith continued as if Kosai hadn't spoken.

"You will need to be careful, and let the other Teachers handle whatever happens... I wonder..."

Kosai sat silently and continued to watch the violent waves, waiting for Zenith to continue.

"Something isn't right with what you are about to do. It would take too long to create a circle of power for your use, and you don't have the skill to take on the Teachers. Your presence there is necessary as the commanding officer of the Guard to make the arrest, but I doubt it will be without much struggle. If I had it my way, I would have you back with the Captain and let him make the arrest. I'm not happy about any of it. If things don't work out, or it begins to look like you won't be successful, you need to be smart enough to run away, no matter what happens. Do I have your word on that?"

"I've never been one to run from a fight," Kosai started to say, and then stopped and dragged his fingers in the sand. The wet sand reminded him of his first encounter with the lindworms and his half-brother. He should have run then, but his arrogance and pride pushed him forward. He was not going to make the same mistake twice. "But you have my word that I will try." Another fierce gust of wind raced across the sea, whipping another barrage of rain and seawater into Kosai's face. Kosai put up his hand to protect from the annoyance. "Why is it like this?"

"I'm not sure, but it isn't good," Zenith responded. He wrapped his canvass tighter around his body and ran into the forest. Kosai was about to follow but felt Mearto's hand on his shoulder. Kosai stood with a start.

"It hasn't been fifteen minutes," he said.

"I know. The matron is here," Mearto said. Kosai turned, seeing her at the entrance.

"A special meeting has been called. Your presences are requested by the Head Teacher," the matron said. She smiled and shut the door. Kosai grabbed his shirt and put it on.

"Here we go," Kosai said.

"Kosai, one more thing, don't accuse the Seer and the others of betraying the caravan routes until I tell you to, and let me and the Teachers do the rest."

"Yes ma'am."

The meeting was already in progress when Kosai and Mearto arrived in the conference room. Two chairs were open on the left side towards the middle of the table. The Seer and Isaac sat across from them.

"The city is chaos!" Faeris said as Kosai sat down. "People are fighting against the Guard, they are preparing to go to the council building if they can, and to add to it, nomads are entering the city, and you say we do nothing?" His question was directed at Daius.

"What good would it do? We need the people to stay on our side, not against us. Showing our power to the people would only frighten them more. We would do more harm than good," the Head Teacher said.

"I agree," said the Seer. "When we work in public, it is done with a quiet and uplifting hand, not oppressive. We must trust the Guard to be successful. The worst is that people will die, but the city will still stand. The structure may be damaged, but the nomads are too unorganized to do anything lasting. They just want food like the rest of the populace."

Jacqueline made some remark about the value of human life, while Xidan responded by rephrasing what the Head Teacher already said. Others broke into the argument until the whole table was in an uproar, save for Kosai, Mearto the Head Teacher and the Seer. The Head Teacher finally stood and raised his hands calling for silence. The teachers quieted.

"Kosai, what do you think?" he said, gesturing a hand to Kosai.

"I think I need to be with my father," he said thinking of the Captain's wounded arm. "The Guard needs me." He looked over at Mearto and she gave the slightest nod. "I think the most important thing we can discuss is how this uprising came to be, coinciding with a nomadic raid."

"Do you have any thoughts on the matter?" the Head Teacher asked. Kosai nodded and was silent for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.

"I was asked by you to come to this school in preparation to defeat Vilheim. I also had another motive in mind. The caravan routes are being betrayed and people are dying of starvation because of it. I was sent to see if I could find the betrayer in these walls, and found that there was not just one, but many. The Seer, as well as others, have been working with council, which the Captain is now removing, to destroy our own caravans."

The door to the conference room flew open; a black mist flowed from the doorway. Vilheim stood there with his hand on the matron's head, blood spilling out of her mouth, and her body dragging behind him. He dropped her in the doorway. Mearto, the Head Teacher, and the others that sided with Kosai backed up against the wall. Kosai stood firm, as well as the other teachers.

"That is where you are wrong," Vilheim said. "Your Captain did nothing of the sort. He made his claim, and removals from the Council were necessary, but they were made by me." He stretched his club at the Teachers and held it steady. A dark flame grew around his arm. "You have a choice. Either side with me or die."

The Head Teacher walked to the other side of the table and Mearto followed.

"What are you doing?" Kosai yelled. She didn't respond but stood next to the Seer with her head down.

"We have promised to spare her life," the Seer said, "and the life of her future family if she was loyal to our commands in delivering you to us during the uprising. First, I wanted you to believe that she was against you." As the Seer spoke, he brushed Mearto's cheek with the back of his age spotted hand. "Then she showed you the nomadic tribe and filtered your information about me giving the routes to the nomads. Everything else you found on your own, but that was to be expected."

"Think of your family, I can still free you!" he yelled. Mearto stood stoically. She didn't look up at Kosai but stared at the ground. Kosai flexed, his blood surging and pulsing within him. He thought back to his promise to Zenith, that he would run if things didn't work out. If he stayed, he would die, he was sure of it. If he ran, Kosai thought the teachers would die and Vilheim would come after him and probably kill him.

"Anyone else?" Vilheim asked calmly.

"Now, Kosai!" one of the teachers called. Kosai wasn't sure who it was. He made a quick connection with the Faye. His hands and forearms lighted with flame, the instinct to fight came over him. Kosai jumped and slid over the table and struck the Seer. The Head Teacher swung with his staff. Kosai ducked, turned and landed an uppercut to the Head Teacher's jaw, his face catching fire, crushing jaw and knocking teeth loose. He pushed Mearto out of the way as another teacher launched a black rope.

It wrapped around his arm, but Kosai pulled and then punched it with his other hand. The roped broke and he rushed towards Isaac. More black strands shot out. Kosai couldn't tell who they were coming from, but each one missed. Kosai kneed Isaac in his large gut, and the teacher doubled over. Taking the opportunity, Kosai placed both hands behind the Teacher's head and smashed his knee into his face. Isaac fell back, bloody and unconscious. Vilheim jumped on the table and ran toward Mearto. Kosai rushed towards her but was too late. Vilheim grabbed her by the neck and held up his club, ready to strike, the black flames close to dripping on her red hair.

"No!" Kosai called. The other teachers stopped their attack. Kosai looked around the room. The teachers that had sided with him were all dead. Daius looked as if he had never been injured. Kosai shook slightly, the chilling sense of death closing around him. The door was still open, he could still run, still have a chance to escape, but for how long? He looked down at his hands and extinguished the flames. One of his knuckles has split open during the fight and the blood began to spread down the back of his fingers.

"You have been a thorn to us," Vilheim said.

"Kill him," the Seer said.

"No, no, no, we mustn't do that," he said to the Seer. Then he looked at Kosai. "I made an oath to your father that you would not be harmed or killed. But I did not promise to do worse. I still have a need of you, Kosai."

Kosai still had a chance, he looked over at Mearto quickly. She looked up and mouthed "run".

"You can do anything to me! Just let her go. Let her live her life. Let her be free." Kosai flung his bloodied hand over towards Mearto and his half-brother. The other Teacher's attention was drawn from the red streak, but that second was enough. Kosai turned and sprinted towards the door. But before he could reach it and escape, black coils wrapped around his feet, tripping him and sending him headlong to the ground. Kosai tried to correct himself and fell on his shoulder. The black coils twisted tighter and tighter around him, racing up his legs and pulled him back into the room like black, constricting snakes.

"Your escape was not part of the agreement," Vilheim said smoothly as the black ropes wrapped around his chest and then stood him upright. "Daius, curse him as Nameless. We must also change him so that his father cannot recognize him. Your title," he said looking at Kosai, "what was it again?"

"I am Kosai," he said firmly. "Wolf of the Barracks."

"How fitting."

The black ropes had come from the Head Teacher. Daius made a small twisting motion with his staff and they squeezed even tighter. Kosai locked eyes with the Seer, then Daius, Mearto, and then Vilheim. He showed no fear as the ropes constricted against his body.

"I will end you; I will end all of you," Kosai roared. The ropes lessened slightly for a split second as the teachers flinched. After regaining their poise, the black ropes continued to tighten.

As Daius chanted the Unspoken, the power of the Faye filled the room. Kosai closed his eyes, attempting to call up his father's face one last time, but too late. Already, it disappeared into nothingness, and the thought of a father vanished.

The Barracks, the training, the sparring, the lessons, one by one seceded into blackness. Each lieutenant, each recruit, each guard, each mission, dissolved in his mind, as if it had never happened. The former recruit tried to remember his name, his title, but those were now gone from him. He opened his eyes one last time and saw a woman with red hair staring at him, weeping. Her cheeks flushed red from tears and sadness. Why was she crying?

Then he was nothing. The pressure of the Unspoken grew. The young man fell to the ground, unconscious.
CHAPTER 25

A lone wolf lay atop a sand dune in the desert underneath a cloudless, crescent moon night. The hot wind collided against the hill of sand and raced upward. It whipped over the lip, lifting millions of grains of sand, which coiled around the canine. The wolf coughed and snorted, blowing chunks of sand and snot out of his nose. He stood, scratched behind his ear, and sniffed the wind.

The moon yielded little light, but upwind was a grey glow of many small fires and the smell of freshly cooked meat. The scent drew him forward, but as he stepped, his head ached. He rubbed at his brow with his forearm, his dewclaw scratching into his temple. Something, some memory tried to push its way forward into his mind, and as the wolf focused on it, it disappeared and faded back to wherever it came from.

Another pain pinched his gut and his stomach grumbled. Instinct drove him towards the smell as the creature sauntered down the dune. Sand followed him down and then clumped in a little pile when he reached the hard ground. Another trail of sand followed. The wolf turned and growled but saw nothing. His paw prints were beginning to disappear as the wind blew and sand fell into his trail.

"How did I get here?" he thought. The stabbing pain in his mind returned as he reached out to grab some memory, but it was like grasping at a shadow. The pain subsided, but the question remained. His stomach grumbled again, and the wolf marched towards the smell of food.

He snuck around the edges of the camp, keeping clear from the lights of the fires. Some groups huddled tightly around the fire, making it easy for the wolf to sniff and examine before moving on to the next. Eventually, he caught the smell again and looked to where it came from. It was three fires down, on the outside of the group.

The wolf trotted over, keeping his body low and staying light on his feet. At the fire, the people were quiet, passing a roasted leg of some creature amongst them and tearing off chunks of cooked flesh. The wolf followed the meat around the circle, waiting for the chance to take it. He crawled closer, practically slithering across the sand. He positioned his back feet and stayed perfectly still. A man turned, passing the meat on to the next person. It was a clear shot, but the wolf didn't jump. The men had sharp metal sticks attached to their belts.

The pain returned as he tried to remember what they were. He whimpered as images of the sharp metal sticks passed in his mind, stabbing the back of his eyes.

"I think it's hungry," one of the people said. The man was taller than the rest with a tattoo on his neck of two snakes. He wore baggy pants and had a shirt with long flowing sleeves tied around his waist. The group focused their attention on the wolf. Some jumped back in alarm, but the tattooed man knelt, tore of a chunk of meat and held it out to the wolf.

"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," the man said. The wolf curled his lips back, raised his hackle and snarled, though he didn't know why. The man was giving him food.

"Here," he said, tossing the piece of meat towards the wolf. The wolf relaxed, sniffed the hot flesh, and devoured it with one bite. The juices from the small morsel exploded and mixed with saliva, instantly filling his mouth with the tantalizing flavor. "Have some more, c'mon." The man waved a larger chunk meat in his hand. The wolf crept closer, eyeing the other members of the group and their...weapons.

"I've never seen a wolf this far east before. Do you think he has a pack close by?" one of the group members asked.

"No," the man said, tossing the piece of meat a little closer to the group. "His behavior is almost like a dog. If he were wild, he would have sat up on the dunes and watched us, looking for some of the sick and young, or at least followed us and tried to pick one of us off." The man turned to the wolf. "You're not going to bite us, are you?"

"Just as long as you keep passing that meat," the wolf thought.

"Do we have a leash or something, a rope maybe?" the man asked the group. One of the members went into a nearby tent.

"You're not going to try to tame that thing, are you?" another asked. Someone handed the man a rope. He quickly fashioned a loop out of it and laid it on his lap.

"Hand me another piece of meat," he said. A large chunk was handed to him and he held it at his feet.

"Here boy," he said, wiggling it around. The wolf saw the ropes, and the pain returned. Something about the black coils frightened him. He backed away slowly, but stared at the meat, torn between hunger and fear.

Hunger won, the wolf approached, ate the meat, and the loop was placed over his head. He took a sharp breath, and tensed his muscles, then wiggled back and forth, trying to pull his head out of the loop, but the more he struggled the tighter it became. The grey light dimmed; breathing was impossible.

"No, no!" the wolf said in his mind as everything went black. He heard something about a muzzle before he lost consciousness.

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When he woke, he knew one thing about himself for sure. He hated rope. It dug into his neck and made it impossible to get comfortable. It didn't matter which way he turned, the roped pulled his head back or tugged slightly on his neck towards a post that was buried in the sand. The wolf walked over to the post and dug into the sand, attempting to find the bottom of the post, but every stroke of sand was filled with more sand.

Sensing the futility of his effort, the wolf stopped, sat and scratched at the rope with his back leg, but the roped never moved. Rope was also tied around his head and mouth, clamping it shut, so biting through was not an option.

The post was a cylindrical piece of wood sticking in the ground. Near the top, a strip was crudely carved out of the post, and was just thick enough for the rope to set in. If the wolf jumped, the rope stayed. If the wolf tugged, the rope stayed, if he ran in circles, the rope stayed.

Someone was walking towards him. The wolf turned, saw the man and snarled. The man squatted and placed a dish of water just outside the wolf's reach. Seeing the water, the wolf whimpered and pulled against the rope. The choking feeling returned. He stopped, sat and stared at the dish.

"You have two options," the man said. "You can either stay with us, and we will feed you, or you can go alone in the desert and die. If you were to run, you would follow us, but we do not take kindly to sharing our spoils. I have a tribe to feed. You can either aid me or be my enemy. I will release you now. You will probably drink, but if you leave after that, the next time we meet, we will dine on your flesh."

The man untied the wolf's muzzle and leash. The wolf stared at the man with the tattoo of two snakes and then looked at the water. He licked his dry lips and whimpered. The man didn't say anything. The wolf kept his hackle raised and slowly, walked over to the water dish. He kept his eyes on the man as he lapped up the water.

"I hope you understand," the man said. "I would hate to kill you. Just how long have you been watching over us anyway?" The man tentatively stretched his hand towards the wolf and touched the top of his head. The wolf relaxed. He rocked his head back and forth, feeling the fingers scratch the sand out from behind his ears. The man smiled and rubbed the wolf's head, underneath his chin and down his back. The wolf sat and let his tongue stick out of his mouth, enjoying the tender affection.

The man smiled back at him and picked the rope up in his hand. The wolf snarled again. When the man dropped the rope, the wolf sat and panted happily. The man reached for the rope a second time and the wolf snarled again. When the man backed away from the rope, the wolf was content.

"You don't like ropes huh? Well right now, the rope has to go on at least until we can trust that you will keep your teeth to yourself." There was some struggle, but the rope was eventually fitted back over the wolf's head and the man returned to his tent.

The wolf's ears were back, and he beat the ground with his tail as he leered at the post.
CHAPTER 26

As the week went by, other members of the tribe, as it was called, came up to greet the wolf. The wolf allowed them to pet his fur, scratch behind his ears, and rub his belly. He even tolerated the little children pulling his tail. Each morning, the man would put on the wolf's muzzle, so all that he could do was growl and maybe scratch when the petting and playing got too rough. And each night, he had dish of water and meat.

The headaches came and went as members of the tribe mentioned things like caravans, guards, trade routes, and the capital, but the wolf learned to tolerate and control the pain as he pushed back against the shadows that seemed to swell up in his mind at each word. After a week, the pain was gone and each word was just a word. There were no shadows attached to them, no daggers of pain that pushed against his skull, it was just information. He also learned that the man with the tattoo of the snakes was named Iserum.

A fortnight after his arrival, a large tribe meeting was called. Everyone gathered in a semicircle around a big fire that was built in the middle of the camp. Iserum took the rope from the post and walked with the wolf towards the center of the fire. He held the wolf tightly to his side as he faced the crowd.

The entire tribe was present. Women held their babies, children sat cross legged, drawing pictures in the sand, while most of the men stood with their arms folded, staring at Iserum. Iserum looked down at the wolf.

"Sit," he commanded quietly. The wolf understood and sat.

"A caravan is going to be passing close by us tomorrow. It will be escorted by twelve guards, including the Captain. Our last encounter with the Captain was less than desirable, but my resource says that we should have swift success. The Captain is still injured but do not think he is an easy target. He lost his son in the uprising. My source tells me that he has no constraint to kill."

"Has your resource said anything about the Dark One?" someone asked from the crowd.

The Dark One was a new word that brought pain to the wolf. The wolf closed his eyes as the stabbing pain swelled in his mind. There was a buzzing sensation and his teeth went numb as he continued to push against the shadows that the word created. After a couple moments, the pain was gone.

"He said that the man who was to kill him failed. They are working to find a solution, but until then, these caravans are our only support for food. They will have plenty of grain and old suon pulling the wagons. We leave at moonset."

Other questions were asked, but the wolf stopped listening after 'suon'. That was the type of meat that he was fed every night and as long as more of that was on the menu, he would do whatever Iserum asked him to. The wolf was tied back to the post after the meeting. He lay down, thinking about a leg of suon and fell asleep. He grumbled when Iserum woke him at moonset, but calmed himself when he realized he was closer to another good meal.

The night passed slowly. Iserum and the wolf walked at the front of the group. The sand and wind always blew into the wolf's face. He sneezed and snorted, blowing the sand out of his nose. Iserum had wrapped his face with some fabric. The wolf thought about something wrapped over his nose, but it would be too much like rope and muzzle, so he disregarded the idea and walked on.

The group walked between the dunes, covered by the dark shadows they cast. Each dune seemed identical to the last, but each turn was intended. The wolf noticed small differences in each dune; a small bush, a plank of wood, the height and width of each dune, and began to see how Iserum could lead them. The last part of the journey was to climb one of the taller dunes. On the other side of the dune was the trail that the caravan would pass by.

Iserum called a stop near the top of a dune just as the night was beginning to disappear. The wolf perked his ears and turned them, hearing the grunts of the suon. The scent of man-sweat, and grain wafted in the air. The caravan was very close.

"Stay," Iserum whispered to the wolf. Iserum prostrated himself on the sand, motioned for the men and women behind him to do the same, and motioned for them to stay where they were. Alone, he crawled to the top of the dune. All the men carried a saber on their hip, and the women carried a bow and a quiver of arrows. There were twenty nomads in the in the party, each eager to capture the caravan. The caravan appeared as it turned from behind a sand dune. A shadow grew in the wolf's mind, but he repressed it before the pain could arise.

Iserum looked back at the group and made a motion with his arms, like he was pulling an invisible bow. The archers knelt and pulled their bows from their backs, knocked an arrow, drew the strings back, anchoring it against their cheeks, poised to release a small volley. Iserum lifted his hand and watched the caravan as it pulled closer to the dune. When it was in front of them, the man lowered his hand. The bows hummed as the arrows rocketed upwards.

"Take cover," cried a guard from the caravan. Iserum turned his hand in a circle, motioning to the archers to release another volley.

"Come," Iserum called as the bowstrings twanged. The wolf ran to his master. The first volley of arrows thudded against ground, caravan and a few shields. As the second volley began to descend, Iserum stood up and drew his sword. Others did the same and rushed over and down the sand dune. The archers aimed their last arrows at the guards. Each penetrated a shield, pushing the guard back against the caravan wagon.

At the initial clash, the wolf continued to run. He stopped when he was on the other side of the battle and began to circle around, looking for Iserum. It was two tribesmen per guard. Each blow from one of the tribesmen was deflected with sword, spear or shield and then countered with a stab or slash. He ran from tribesman to tribesman, searching for his master.

Iserum was being driven back against one of the wagons. The captain, who wore a four-pronged amulet, blocked every blow with his sword and each strike was to kill. Each of the captain's attacks fell like thunder and snapped like a snake bite, the black and red tinted blade cracking and chipping Iserum's sword. The captain's back leg was covered only by cloth. Eagerly, the wolf sprinted towards the captain and bit through the captain's calf. The captain screamed and turned. The wolf released, but the captain was quicker. The Captain struck his sword down. The blade flashed a red tint in the morning light and the blade slashed down the wolf's back. Blood sprayed out over the captain. In the next instant, Iserum thrust his sword through the captain's neck. The captain jerked as the blade was pulled free, then fell, blood bubbling from his throat.

The wolf howled in pain and ran underneath a wagon as the fight continued. Guardsmen turned from their fights to tend to the dying captain, but it was too late. The momentous kill had been done and within seconds, the guards surrendered. The drivers jumped out from their wagons and were lined up next to the suon. Iserum walked in front of each, but the wolf couldn't hear what was said. His back felt like it had been struck by lightning and everything grew dark again.

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The wolf awoke as the sun was setting. His back was bandaged, and he was lying on a blanket. Iserum knelt next to him, rubbing the wolf's head. Another man was looking at the wolf's back and unwrapped the bandages. A bittersweet gel that smelled like mint and vinegar was applied to the long cut.

"What do you think?" Iserum asked the healer.

"I'm not sure. This infection is unlike anything I've seen. It attacks the blood and turns it black. See here, on the back, the veins are turning dark red. The infection spreads quickly, and will soon get to his heart, but your creature is fighting hard against the disease. I have applied the strongest medicine we have, and with it... I can only hope that he will make a full recovery. Hold him down, the wound must be closed."

The man held the wolf's head and waved for others to help him. More men came and held each of his limbs and the healthier parts of his chest tightly as the healer wove thread in and out of the wound. The wolf felt a slight tug as the needle poked through his flesh, but there was no pain.

When the stitches were complete, and the bandages redone, the wolf was again leashed and muzzled outside Iserum's tent and was given a blanket to lie on. Iserum chose not to stay in his tent, but lay next to the wolf, gently scratching and petting behind the ears. The muzzle was only removed when fresh suon and water was brought.

The bandages were worse than the rope. It was like an itch on the inside of an ear, and the wolf hadn't the strength to relieve the annoyance. It hurt to move his legs, to rock his head, to do anything. Searing hot pain raced from the wound and pulsed up and down his back. His stomach and ribs ached from tensing at the pain. The wolf whimpered and wined, and then looked up at Iserum.

Iserum patted the wolf's head and rubbed its side. The warm hand and soft touch helped still the pain for a short time. Iserum called for the healer and asked if there was any pain killer that he could give to his pet. The healer said that a bottle was found, but he was unsure if he wanted to use the precious liquid on an animal.

"This animal saved my life, our lives. If it wasn't for him, I'm not sure if we would have succeeded. My wolf has a right to that medicine, and you owe him your life for the food he was able to obtain for us."

The healer looked down at the wolf, seeing him wince and howl quietly in pain. The healer frowned and pulled a bottle of thick brown liquid from his robe and gave it to Iserum.

"Thank you," Iserum said, more to the wolf than the healer.

"A quarter of the bottle should subdue the pain," the healer said as he turned and walked back to the tribe. Iserum unstopped the bottle and pointed the opening towards the wolf's mouth. The wolf sniffed at the medicine and snorted at it.

"Drink," Iserum said, pushing the vial closer to the wolf. The wolf wrinkled his nose and moved his head away. "Drink!" Iserum commanded. The wolf flattened his ears at the firm tone. Iserum grabbed the wolf's snout, held it firmly and forced the contents of the bottle into the wolf's mouth.

Shortly after, the wolf's eyes grew heavy, drowsiness overcame him, and the wolf rested. While he slept, Iserum made a small shelter from some wooden posts and a spare canvas that was stolen from the caravan to protect the animal from the sun.

That night Iserum slept next to the tent on his own blanket.

While the tribe was resting, a low, dark cloud billowed and rumbled over a nearby sand dune. The wolf woke and watched the strange storm. It was darker than the night, and the wind that preceded it was colder than the southerly winds. The cloud shifted and jetted towards the outskirts of the camp. The wolf watched it closely. Iserum slept and did not shudder at the cold. When the wolf looked back up, the cloud was directly in front of him.

"The Dark One," the wolf thought. He growled and prepared to howl, but a being materialized from the darkness and clamped the wolf's mouth shut with a metal gloved hand. A feeling of darkness, emptiness, and forgetfulness sat on the wolf, as if he was dreaming.

"No, don't do that," the Dark One said. The feeling dissipated, but when the wolf looked around, a shadow had settled on the camp like a dark blanket of ash. "I am here as a friend, a healer if you will." The wolf growled quietly and pulled his lips back. "You are always the fighter, always will be." With his other metal gloved hand, he pointed a finger at the wolf. "I give you speech."

The wolf felt something in his throat, as if he swallowed a bone. The sensation passed and he looked again at the Dark One.

"I will release my grip, though if you howl, I will kill your master, his family, and the rest of this tribe. Do you understand?"

"What are you doing here?" the wolf growled with his hackle still raised.

"I have come to heal you. Two weeks ago, you were on a sand dune, I saw you there and watched you until you came to this camp. Do you remember anything before that?"

Shadows again appeared in the wolf's mind as he tried to think before that night. The pain increased as he tried to grab for some memory, but the pain bit his mind.

"There is something, but I can't see it. It hurts to think about it and the pain is unbearable."

"I can restore those memories to you, so that you will know your purpose and how you can serve me." The Dark One placed his hand on the wolf's head. The shadows that plagued the wolf's mind began to take shape.

"You are Kosai, known as the wolf of the Capital Barracks. Your mother died in childbirth. The Captain, your biological father, raised you at the Barracks. You were to become one of the Guard, more than that, a Second Lieutenant, the youngest in history," the Dark One started. Kosai could see himself as a young man riding on a white horse, escorting a caravan. "You were attacked by a group of nomads during an escort, something within you stirred and you drove them away by summoning a sandstorm. You returned after the escort and told your Captain about the success."

In his memory, he drove his sword through many nomads, but there were too many and the caravan was going to be lost. He raised his hands and a sandstorm appeared, forcing the nomads to retreat, thus saving the caravan. The Captain was worried about his power and told him and the other guards that were with him to tell no one of what happened.

"The School of the Faye saw promise within you and took you in, hoping that you could help heal the Seeps in Olfstead and Varlette." He could see the School, the Seer, the Head Teacher, Theo and Mearto. Mearto stuck to teaching him personally. "They wanted to teach you more of the Faye and groom you to become the next Head Teacher." He saw in his memory the teachers sparring with him, refining his ability, grooming him for greatness. "Then the school betrayed you. They wanted to kill your Captain who was your father and the rest of the guard so that the School could rise to power and govern the people as they saw fit." Kosai saw himself in a conference room arguing with the Teachers. No one stood with him as he talked about their uprising and their betrayal against the Guard and the people. Mearto, his teacher and mentor, the one whom he had grown attached to, even stood against him.

"You fought well, but you failed, they cursed you as Nameless." He saw himself fighting against the teachers, knocking out two and nearly killing the Seer, but without success. The Head Teacher shot out black binding ropes and spoke words of power. He cried out to Mearto, and she did nothing but cry." The Dark One removed his hand from the wolf's head and spoke to him directly.

"The teachers didn't kill you because they wanted you to do one last thing for them. They believed you would aid the nomads in killing the Captain, who was your father."

As each memory came into his mind, a new pain rose in him. The pain rushed to sadness and then anger. Kosai wasn't sure whether to cry or howl or run back to the school. They had tricked him into killing his father. A dark fire grew within his chest and he growled... deeply, and glared, not at the Dark One, but at his memories, at the teachers, at the school... at her.

"I want them dead. I want them all dead. They had this planned from the beginning. The only reason they took me in was to kill my father. They need to die, every one of them, including that treacherous woman." The wolf growled and snarled as he spoke, speaking in an animalistic tone.

"If you swear loyalty to me, I promise you that you will have your wish. And with your loyalty, I will give you a gift, a gift that only I can bestow... a gift of immortality. Only the blood of my blood and the flesh of my flesh can rescind it. Will you be loyal to me?"

"And how can I trust you to keep your word? How will I get my revenge?"

"You and I have the same goal in mind. I was once the Head Teacher before my Assistant and others turned against me. Can you guess who my assistant was?"

"Daius," the wolf growled. "I swear loyalty to you." The Dark One leaned closer, his amber eyes glowing in the night.

"Then let it be." The Dark One pulled a vial from his robe that was filled with black liquid. Small purple strands of lightning swarmed around the vial. "Your life is bound to mine." As he spoke, a purple mist flowed from the vial and into the wolf's nose and mouth. After the wolf breathed in all the mist, he bowed before the Dark One.

"In a little more than two decades, one of my servants will come into the foothills of the Broken Blades, searching for something only you will be able to find. You will aid him in any way you can and as you do so, you will come closer to exacting you revenge. His sign will be his power. Rest now and remember what I have told you."

"I will."

EPILOGUE

In the spoken histories of the Faeries living at the peak of Meark Norith, never has a storm of such ferocity and vehemence left such a little wake of damage and debris. Winds bent trees nearly in half, chunks of glacier ice scarred granite faces, lightning snapped, and thunder shook everything around the storm. In all the likeness of destruction, there was creation.

Green strands of energy flowed and intermixed with the storm, twisting downward until it reached the peak of the mountain.

The Faye was at work.

The faeries took shelter behind boulders and small burrowed holes of tree trunks. Flying to safer shelter was out of the question. The storm was too violent for flying. Their butterfly and moth size bodies would be carried away to wherever the wind decided.

The elder faeries, denoted by either long white beards or long silver hair, channeled the Faye at the beginning of the storm to hollow out additional shelters in boulders, or exposed rock faces. Members of the clan huddled together wherever they could find safety and prepared to endure the storm for the remainder of the night.

When the storm clouds reached the peak of the mountain, the green strands of light swarmed together and coalesced with a climatic lighting strike, creating a blinding light that lasted for more than a split second.

When the light faded, the howling wind was gone, the storm vanished. Damaged trees seemed repaired and lusher then when the storm began. Glacial ice was once again smooth, new bright green shoots of needles sprouted out from the ends of fir trees, and small grasses and mosses grew out of the crevices the elders made in the rock faces.

"Strange," Zephora said as she brushed her silver shoulder length hair behind her ears. She took a moment to look at her purple skin, noting that the lavender colored lines denoting age seemed thinner and shorter than what they were before the storm. She was not nearly as old as the elders, but she had noticed a subtle change. Even her dress, spun from spider-silk and dandelion seeds felt sturdier, less old. "Very strange," she commented, tugging at the fabric.

Above her, and at the center of where the storm was, an infant was crying, but the cry was not faerie. She fluttered out of the hole in the rock, towards the crying. Some of the elders were already surrounding the crying thing, watching intently and inaudibly whispering. Zephora cautiously, slowly, flew closer to, whatever it was, when one of the elders, her grandmother of all faeries, grabbed hold of her arm.

"Be still, daughter," Reahlin whispered, "and leave this to the elders."

"But it sounds like it's in pain, and they are just fluttering around it," Zephora protested.

"It is hungry, uncomfortable, and probably a touch cold up here," Reahlin replied softly. "Right now, they are trying to figure out how and who will take stewardship over the, what appears to be, human." As they hovered on the outskirts of the circle of elders, a humanoid feminine figure made of pure water and clothed in a hooded gown of moonlight walked by.

"What is she doing here?" Reahlin breathed, pulling Zephora behind her and shielding her from the glow of the woman. She was known to the elders as The Woman of the Water and came at the winter solstice to heal the faeries, supply warnings of weather and natural disasters, as well as instruction on where to find food and shelter for the coming year. She was not looked to as a prophet, but more of a being, a manifestation of the Faye sent to aid their clan.

"Very, very strange indeed," Zephora said as the Woman walked by. The Woman paused, hearing the little faerie speak. She looked towards Zephora and smiled.

"Would you like to see him?" the Woman asked, extending a hand down to the two faeries. Without hesitation, Reahlin escorted Zephora up from the ground to the Woman's extended hand. Reahlin bowed just before reaching the Woman's fingers and gestured for Zephora to also bow and at the same time, pushing her forward into the Woman's hand. Zephora stepped onto the Woman's hand and was surprised to find that her hand felt solid.

The Woman placed Zephora on her shoulder and walked towards the crying infant. As they neared, the elders that fluttered in a half circle around the child, formed two parallel lines, like an honor guard, heads bowed and lips silent.

"What is he?" Zephora asked, looking at the now screaming child. Curioulsy, there was also a staff next to the infant, still glowing a soft green from the energy of the storm. The Woman, not answering the curious faerie, picked up child and wrapped him in her moon-light robe, holding him closet to her luminescent skin. She then picked up the staff, now bland and white, and turned into over in her hands.

"He is a human child, or, least that is what this says he is," the Woman said, looking at the staff and then back at the infant. "There is a couple that lives near the base of this mountain, who are childless. They will raise him in the ways of the mountain and raise him as their own."

"It's a long journey to the Highfield farm," Zephora said, looking behind her shoulder and down the mountain. "Can he survive the trip? How would you feed him?"

"You ask too many questions. I travel by other paths. The Highfields will have a son before the moon is set. Fret not for the child. He will be taken care of and cared for like any other human child."

"The elders will want to know... I suppose, I mean, they need to know why he was created, and why you asked me to come with you." Zephora rung her purple hands together, afraid of being asked questions that had no answer.

"You faeries are always so inquisitive. I think it gets worse as one ages," the Woman said with a slight chuckle. "I don't know why he was made, or any of the particulars. He exists, he is human, and he needs to learn as the humans learn, be raised by them to survive off the forest, yet be hidden from the humans. There are others who would either kill him or attempt to use his gifts for personal benefit."

"What do I tell them," Zephora asked flatly. "I can't simply say I don't know?"

"I can only see a small portion of his purpose. The rest is still too fluid, too changeable." Zephora shrugged and sighed, realizing that she was not going to get a straight answer.

"I'll let the elders know that this was a manifestation of the Faye for the benefit of the Highfields, and nothing more." That would at least satisfy the elder's need to know things.

"That answer would suffice," the Woman replied, looking down and smiling at the babe. Zephora fluttered down from the Woman's shoulder to get a better look at the infant. But before she could do so, the Woman was engulfed in light, and then gone, leaving the faerie to hover where the Woman once was.

"Very, very, very strange," Zephora whispered. She circled the area once, and then flew down the group of elder faeries to say where the child went, and answer with "I don't know," to the rest of the questions they had.

[][][]

The storm rolled over the mountain range that divided the Wild Lands from the eastern desert. The high peaks scraped the clouds, gashing into the moist, static mass. As the storm passed over the Broken Blades, the cold, dark clouds pillowed onto the desert ground. Wind screamed over the desert foliage, kicking up dust and sand as the storm continued to travel east. Again, green light spun in the sky as the tornado slowly reappeared.

As it touched the ground, sand raced around it, shrouding the twister in darkness, and then moved eastward.

Day after day, the storm grew in strength, blocking out the sun and tearing a vicious, jagged scar across the sandy ground. The heat from the sun combined with a cold, damp wind from the south, strengthening the storm. The cold front pushed the twister northward.

A guardsman stood in the Gate tower of Noiknaer and saw the dark red cloud emerging. He sounded an alarm and the Gate was closed. A chorus of bells that warned the citizens of the coming storm rang throughout the city. As the windows and gates closed, Vilheim materialized from a slight gust of wind and sand outside the main gate. A black, heavy hood covered his face. His gloves were tipped with iron points. His boots were plated, coming to a barbed point at the toe. The wind ripped his tattered cape, cutting holes in the already threadbare fabric.

He reached into his cloak and pulled out the vile filled with thick, tar like liquid. He knelt, dug a hole in sand, poured the liquid into it, and placed his left hand over it.

"I give you a portion of my gift, memory, intelligence and power." A purple stream of lightning shot from the palm of his hand and danced over the surface of the liquid. It hissed and began to boil.

Slowly, the liquid solidified into two distinct shapes. One shape formed into a staff and the other, an infant. Vilheim looked behind him, seeing the storm approach. He closed his palm and wiped the tar from the child's face. It breathed but did not cry. The staff was crimson and radiated a heat of its own.

"Child, you will release me from my prison with the gifts I have given you," Vilheim said as he twirled his robe around the boy and himself. The storm passed over them. The sand and wind tried to break into the protective cocoon. The twister screamed next to them, but the dark figure's power protected him and his new creation. As the twister traveled over them, green bolts of lightning stabbed and smashed against him, but he didn't budge.

He looked at the infant and stretched his hand upward towards the storm. "My last gift I give to you is life," he said as he shot another beam of purple energy from his palm. The purple beam struck the cloud and exploded in a purple flash of lightening. The storm died, the dust and sand softly settled, and Vilheim vanished the lessening wind.

The boy cried. The city gates opened. People surrounded the child and looked at each other. There were a few moments of silence.

"I will take him," Mearto said. She bit her lower lip and stroked her red hair braid as she looked longingly at the child. Her voice was soft but penetrating. When no one objected, she rushed over to the child and held him in her arms.

"Shhh, my little one, it's alright," she said quietly, a soft smell of lilac and sea salt filling the air. The infant cooed and fell asleep.

"Mearto," Daius said as he walked through the crowd, "we have no idea how he got here. This is too odd, don't you think?"

"He is a child Daius, he has a right to life as any of us would. What is not to say that he was taken from his home?" Her voice carried above the gentle winds.

"Then how do you explain that staff," Daius said, pointing to the crimson wood.

"Perhaps it was blown here as well." Mearto walked into the small hole and pulled the staff from the sand that began to cover it.

"Listen to yourself, you are being foolish! I will not allow this," Daius said. "This is not what we meant by our agreement."

By this time, the teachers had formed a circle around Mearto and faced the crowd. Each lifted their hands towards the populace and began to chant softly and slowly. The people all at once turned and walked away.

"I said I will take him. I am a creature of honor, integrity, and great wisdom. Your secrets are known to me Daius, and do not think for a moment that pain does not escape you."

Daius glared at the woman, and Mearto stared back stoically, unmoving, holding the infant tightly to her chest.

"As you wish," Daius said as he relaxed his gaze. Mearto nodded and took the child into the city.

