CHAPTER 2

With a final, frustrated gulp, Silas drained the last of his water, savoring the unpresent flavor as if it was a delectable drink. It was rare for anyone to finish an entire canister—especially one infused with Aura, but he did, not that he chose to.

The palm-sized metallic container could hold gallons, but after days of aimless wandering through the wilderness, disoriented and desperate, Silas had consumed far more than he’d expected. Now, his water was gone, and all that remained in his mouth was the dry taste of regret.

I should’ve filled it to the brim, he thought bitterly, twisting the cap back on and slipping the canister into the back pocket of his dark pants.

He’d been so certain he would reach his destination in just a few days. But he hadn’t accounted for the endless ways someone without direction could get lost. He surprised even himself, having not realized he’d been walking in circles for nearly an hour, treading a path he had unknowingly created. But, of course, the map was to blame.

Who the hell designed maps like this?! He scowled, glaring at the old piece of paper on his hand. Everything looks the same! It doesn’t even differentiate the landmarks properly. How the hell would anyone recognize which mountain this curved line is?

Silas sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as his eyes scanned the vast, unchanging landscape. To his right, jagged rocks rose sharply from the earth, forming a rugged, uneven valley. To his left, a dense forest stretched endlessly—a sea of green that he had no hope of navigating with his current luck. Worse still, the map was useless. No matter how much he tried to decipher it, the depiction of landmarks simply made no sense to him. It wasn’t his lack of direction—it was the map.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his damp brown hair. Though usually wild, it now stuck to his forehead in the stifling heat. He pushed it back, only for a hot gust of wind to send it flying into disarray once more, deepening his frustration.

“It’s almost winter! Why the hell is it so hot?!” he fumed, glaring at the valley as though it held the answers. But the rocks stood silent, unmoving, indifferent to his ire. Silas stared at them for several long moments—not because he expected the landscape to offer any guidance, but because it felt like he was engaged in some absurd competition with the rocks and he is not one to lose.

A few minutes passed before a flicker of triumph sparked in his eyes, as if he’d just won a silent battle against the elements. If anyone had witnessed it, they might have thought he was losing his sanity after spending too much time in the wilderness. Lucky for him, he was alone.

His ‘staring contest’ with the rocks ended, and his gaze fell upon a patch of shade beneath a massive tree in the distance. He had been so absorbed in his pointless fixation that he hadn’t noticed the cool refuge until now. His shirt—once white—was streaked with dirt, clinging to his back and heavy with sweat, the result of wasting precious minutes in the heat.

With a quiet sense of victory that eased his frustration, Silas made his way toward the tree, too exhausted to argue with the sun and satisfied enough to have ‘won’ his absurd contest with the rocks. The relief that washed over him as he sank into the cool shade was almost palpable. Still, the weight of being lost—of not knowing where he was or whether he was heading in the right direction—pressed heavily on his shoulders. But for now, at least he wasn’t parched. And it wasn’t as if all hope was lost.

Once settled, Silas pulled a small, round object from his packed shoulder bag. About the size of a baby's palm, it was an artifact known as a pointer, appearing to be carved from stone yet gleaming like metal. He placed it at the center of the well-worn, poorly designed map, then snapped his fingers.

The sharp sound of the snap ignited a flicker of translucent deep blue Aura, swirling like a soft cloud toward the object. The Aura wrapped around the stone, and its black surface began to glow faintly with blue light, activating the artifact that had become his last hope.

The glowing artifact shifted, gliding slowly across the map before its movement quickened, tracing its surface with precision. Few seconds later, it came to a stop, and the glow faded, leaving the artifact hovering over an area that marked Silas's current location.

“So, I’m near the border,” Silas muttered, squinting at the map. “I should reach the outskirts of Leandine in a few hours if I keep heading south.” He quickly folded the paper and tucked both the map and artifact securely back into his bag. Then, without hesitation, he set off toward the north, heading for his destination— Infanta, where the main Temple awaited him.

Then, as he took a few steps, he froze. Wrong way.

Undoubtedly, the pointer was the most valuable artifact of his journey—second only to his water canister. Buying it had been a wise decision, even though it had cost him a few months’ worth of his salary as a temple slave.

It had saved him from getting too lost and if he had more Aura to fuel the artifact, he was sure he wouldn’t have gotten lost at all. But, alas, as a lesser mage, he could only use such powerful tool sparingly. His limited Aura capacity meant he could only use the pointer twice a day, which often left him stranded despite having such a valuable artifact at his disposal.

Still, Silas was thankful for having Aura, at least. The title of ‘mage’ carried weight—only two percent of the population could claim such a distinction, and he was one of them. Despite his meager Aura capacity, he never felt bitter. Instead, he was deeply grateful for the day he had awakened with the ability to wield it. It had changed his life.

From being an orphan with no means of support to working as a temple slave, his awakening had given him purpose—and, more importantly, a steady income.

Though the title 'slave' might have carried negative connotations, it had evolved in this context. Now, it referred to orphans who were given the opportunity to work in temples—serving the goddess, assisting the priests, and healing the sick. It was a position of privilege, a rare opportunity for those with no family and no support.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

For Silas, this arrangement had worked out quite well. He was privileged to possess enough Aura to secure a position at the temple, even if it wasn’t a high-ranking one. In truth, he could have worked in the palace for a higher position and salary, but he had no interest in becoming a knightmage. That life was for the ambitious, and Silas was content with his quiet role. He preferred the peace of temple life, where he could live as he wished—aside from the occasional travel required to the temple slaves.

In hindsight, the travel should have been exciting. After all, he got to visit other rundown temples, which he found more fascinating than the polished halls of the palace. But there was a catch: he had to travel alone, discreetly observing the priests and slaves without their knowledge. It was part of the arrangement—witnessing how the temple operated without the people managing it being aware of a watchful eye. And, unfortunately for Silas, it was his turn this time.

Now, after all that, he was finally returning with a report.

Silas trekked down the mountains for a few more hours until he reached a small town on the outskirts of Leandine, almost at the borders of Infanta. While the town was far more modest and worn than the bustly capital, Silas cared only about finding a pub or restaurant where he could refill his water canister. That was his top priority in the sweltering heat.

Thankfully, he spotted a tavern. He stepped inside with quick, purposeful strides and immediately, his ears were welcomed with the sounds of clinking mugs, lively chatter, and the bustle of workers, mercenaries, and the occasional loud drunk. The noise was so thick, it almost felt like stepping into a beehive rather than a drinking establishment. Though it was the outer parts of the province, the tavern was packed, likely due to a lack of other shops in the area.

He quickly scanned the room for an empty round table, avoiding the bar area to sidestep idle chatter with the bartender. Instead, he made his way to a wooden table and sat down on a barrel that was made into a chair. His worn appearance made it clear that he was a tired, travel-weary soul.

He waited patiently, his gaze shifting from the harsh brightness of the outside world to the dim, cool light inside the tavern. It gave him a chance to clearly scan the interior, noting that patrons were also descending from the second floor. Seemed like it was an inn as well. After a moment, the server finally noticed him. She was a young woman, no older than her twenties, her face drawn and weary from long hours on her feet. She barely looked at him as she approached, too preoccupied with the bustle around her to offer more than a quick glance.

“What can I get for you?” she asked quickly, fumbling for a small notepad and pencil from the pockets of her stained apron.

"Water," Silas replied, his eyes steady on her as she jotted down his order, still looking at the paper.

She paused, then met his gaze for the first time, though her head remained bowed.

"Anything else?" she asked flatly, as though she had handed him a menu—though, of course, she hadn’t. Not that it mattered. Though he felt a little hungry, he was too self-conscious to eat in a crowded place.

“That’s all. And put it in here. About 3 or 4 gallons will do.” Silas pulled his canister from his back pocket and placed it in front of her. Though he was almost in Infanta, he didn’t want to risk running out of water. He had learned his lesson.

Suddenly, she let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s one bronze per gallon. Four gallons so its four bronze coins,” she announced, her eyes narrowing as she looked him over with doubt.

Silas wasn’t surprised by her skepticism; it wasn’t the first time people had looked at him that way. He was, however, a little taken aback when he was asked to pay, because as far as he remembered, water was free. Still, given his current situation, parting with a few bronze coins wasn’t really an issue. Moreover, he wasn’t the type to make a fuss over such things. In fact, he hated getting into any type of confrontation. His canister would be filled, and that was all that mattered.

Silas pulled his purse from his bag and retrieved the coins. When the woman saw them, her suspicion seemed to fade. She quickly collected the payment with a nod, then took his canister and walked toward the bar, muttering, “I’ll be right back.”

While he waited, Silas overheard a conversation from the table next to him. Two men were talking—one large and muscular, the other thin and wiry. He didn’t particularly want to listen, but the proximity and the volume at which they were speaking made it impossible to ignore.

“Tsk. Did ya hear the news?” the smaller man’s voice was low and serious. “Evara was attacked by damn Monstrums last night.”

The larger man frowned, setting down his beer. “Evara? Not Angeles? That’s what I read in the paper.”

The wiry man gave his companion a puzzled look. “Huh? Was Angeles attacked too? I only heard about Evara. Damn Monstrums are attacking every province.”

“With the way things are going, Leandine will be next,” the bulky man mused, shaking his head. He knew Leandine would be hit last, but still, the Monstrums were spreading.

The smaller man thought for a moment, then frowned. “Just Leandine? Infanta’s right next door and above Angeles, too.”

The empire of Vethoria was made up of several states, with Solaris to the south. To the north of Solaris lay Leandine, and adjacent to it was Infanta. Below the two were Angeles and, further south lays Evara.

“Impossible. Monstrums wouldn’t dare attack Infanta. They have the great mage’s relic there.”

“Kenos? The great mage’s staff? I thought it was stolen last year,” the wiry man said, confusion evident on his face.

“You don’t read the newspapers, do ya?” The bulky man’s tone was condescending. The staff had been returned months ago, but his friend had no clue.

“Ya know how much it costs? A bronze coin! I’d rather wait for the news to spread. It’ll reach my ears anyway,” the smaller man said, angry at the sudden price hike.

“Cheap,” the bulky man muttered in disbelief. His friend was frugal, but passing up important news for the sake of a coin?

The wiry man stiffened, insulted. “It used to be free! Those damn royals are the real cheap!”

“Shh! Keep it down!” the bulky man hissed urgently. Though no one was looking at them, the entire tavern felt as though it was listening in—especially with the mention of the royals. And it was, as it had been since earlier. It was actually difficult not to overhear them, despite the buzzing of the place, since their voices weren’t particularly hushed, typical of mercenaries.

What more, anything—even the smallest detail—about the royals was of great interest to the people, and this conversation was no exception.

“So what?! It’s true. Even water ain’t free anymore!”

Silas's ears perked up at that. The server’s suspicion toward him suddenly made sense. Water used to be free—and it still was in Infanta and at the temples. He had even received water at the temple he visited, with the priests offering it to him at no cost. But it seemed that was no longer the case in other places, including Leandine.

He had initially assumed the waitress had asked for payment because of the large amount he was requesting, and he had no issue paying for it. But with this new revelation, it became clear—people now had to pay for water, and to him that is clear absurdity. What is going on with the royals? And they mentioned Kenos too...

The bulky man clicked his tongue, exasperated. “Calm down. I don’t want to get tossed outta here. I paid three bronze for this,” he reasoned, referring to his beer, noticing his friend’s anger seemed to spike even more. “It’s still better than nothing.”

“Three?! I thought it was two!”

“Shh!”

R E H I L I Y A