After leaving the house, still bothered by the candle, not to mention his mother’s latest bout, Arjun decided to let his feet wander for a bit. Such an opportunity may never come again. Looking at the plaza, the general store, the old alley between the two where he’d gotten drunk for the very first time – all of these familiar sights brought home the realization that he was going to lose the only friendships – the only connections – he’d formed in his nineteen years of wandering through Aiminia.
As a result of all the musing, Arjun was so preoccupied as he was walking past Justin’s house that he didn’t at first hear his old carpentry master’s call. The burly and amiable man had just come out of his work-shed, a satisfied glint in his eyes.
“Tell Siman that the table he’d ordered is ready,” he called out upon seeing Arjun. “Just saw him storming past the temple toward the inn. Would’ve told him myself, but still got to finish varnishing old Binni’s bookshelves.” Justin gave a smile, which vanished when he noticed the look on Arjun’s face. “You seem to have the mysteries of life itself on your mind, boy.” The tone left no doubt as to what the old man thought of such endeavors. Justin was the soul of pragmatism.
“Sorry, master Justin. I’ll let father know as soon as I can.”
Arjun felt a twinge of sadness every time he saw the man. Working under him, learning about various types of wood, the practical experience gained under the tutelage of a master – all of that had helped him hone his essence senses which would be absolutely vital when working as a Builder in the future. But keeping the real reason behind his interest in carpentry from Justin still bothered him.
As he pondered about the candle, suddenly lit, an involuntary shiver went down his spine. That couldn’t have been the Second Awakening, could it? Second Awakenings were supposed to be violent events, often causing explosions…just like the fire at the build-site had been. Assuming the fire had occurred because of his Second Awakening, it raised an even more disturbing question.
When did the First Awakening occur? Did it take place in the shadow days of his early childhood, before the age of seven?
Arjun has never been able to remember any event before his seventh birthday. At first, he didn’t even realize it was highly unusual for a kid of ten not to be able to remember times before age seven. But slowly, as he grew older and all his friends – transient friends, he’d never stayed in one place long enough to form meaningful friendships, not until Agnipur – as they talked about their own childhood, he began to truly comprehend the depth of the dark hole that was his memory. His parents, of course, didn’t provide any information, always deftly evading the issue.
Betrayed not just by the two persons dearest to him, but also by his own memories!!! Seems he’d have to figure this out on his own as well.
Arjun’s thoughts went back to the events of last winter. A forbidden book on Lineal traits and a split chin. And his world had come crashing down. He still wished his father…his father had told him the truth himself. Arjun swallowed the lump in his throat and kept walking.
It is always better to know. Besides, there was still a one in four chance that Siman was his biological father.
As he was walking past the lone temple in town, a temple dedicated to Aimin the Allfather, Arjun glanced up at the simple yet breathtakingly detailed hand-crafted sculptures on the outer stone surface, saying a silent prayer. Was he a hypocrite for turning to the Allfather only in times of need?
Thinking back to his earlier conversation with Hammond, he wondered if Aimin himself would approve of the fact that both Omism and Dualism were banned in Aiminia – punishable by death for all worshipers. Even some of the old traditions and customs – like naming conventions – were going through a slow but inevitable change, slow being the operative word. Over two thousand years of shared history was hard to erase.
Arjun’s name, for instance, was derived from an ancient Sanbri epic, but also was an amalgamation of the names of the two greatest Emperors of Gaia, the first two Emperors – Arun and Ajoy. It was a common enough occurrence, especially in the eastern part of Aiminia, where Arjun, supposedly, was born. Otherwise, his father would never have allowed such a thing, no matter how in vogue the custom was at the time.
As always, the familiar pyramidal architecture of the temple invoked a sense of peace inside his Heart, dispelling some of the gloom, while at the same time arousing his curiosity. Not for the first time he wondered where the Mount of Matter, the Artifact of Atma all temples of Aimin reflected in their design, was located. Both the Tenets and the Lore of Legends claimed it was disassembled by Aimin after he’d used both it and the Pools of Power to create humankind. But Arjun had long since learned to regard such claims, edited by time and man both, with a fair degree of skepticism.
All such thoughts left his Crown when, on his way past the stable toward the back of the inn where Hammond was to meet him, he heard two people arguing in a hushed tone.
Overcoming his usual instinct for flight upon hearing whispers, Arjun cocked his head. Sensing he knew one voice but not being able to recognize it, he edged toward the back of the structure, toward a loose board, a handy-work of Hammond for sneaking into the stable to quietly enjoy a drink or two. He was careful to move slowly, kept all his Manipulation passive, and was far enough away so that his clamped-down kernel signature wouldn’t give him away.
“As far as favors go, this is a big one, Dhrelin. Your boy will be in constant danger if he stays with me, as I told you earlier.” The voice was male, deep, and filled with anger, though it wasn’t directed at the second person, presumably his Dhrelin fellow, whoever he was. “I’ve got a Shadow Squad on my tail.”
“I know. But he’ll be in even more danger if he stays here. The Cleric Inspector here, a fellow named Born, he’s been asking questions. It’s a matter of weeks, if not days, before Arjun is marched off to the Blackhold. And you do owe me, James.”
Arjun felt a sudden chill down his spine that had nothing to do with the occasional cool gusts of wind after the heavy showers.
It was his father’s voice. But why was this other man addressing him as Dhrelin?
Despite being concerned, Arjun’s interest was piqued. He closed his eyes and concentrated, placing one hand on the wooden board which comprised the back of the stable, taking care to keep his wood Manipulation as minimal and subtle as possible. This was his one chance to uncover some of his parents’ secrets. He didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping.
The other man, James, sighed. A soft sigh indicating frustration. The distance and the man’s immaculate control over his kernel signature meant Arjun couldn’t verify the emotion using his talent.
“Alright, but I have to move tonight, tomorrow morning at the latest. Can’t tarry here. I was spotted while entering the town.”
“Spotted?” His father sounded skeptical. “By whom?”
“Through a Teleportation window used for observation, cloaked in illusion.”
“What did you do to get on the wrong side of the Hawk?” his father all but shouted, even while whispering.
Arjun understood his concerns. Hawk was the most feared of the four First Servants, though he very much doubted the man himself had committed all the horrific acts attributed to him. If it was a man at all. Some called him the King of Apparitions, since he reputedly was in charge of all the Clerics of the Order, who could, if the stories of the common folk were to be believed, appear and disappear at will. As usual, his parents had evaded the question when asked.
“What about changing your….” his father was cut off immediately by the other man. “Don’t have the materials. I was hoping to buy some, but there isn’t even a dedicated Alchemy store here, let alone an Alchemist.”
In the brooding silence that followed, his father seemed to be considering his options. Arjun waited with bated breath, still slightly annoyed that they were discussing his future without even bothering to consult him.
“Reckon I have a lead of about a week, at most.”
“Was that why you arrived so late? I was expecting you in the middle of summer.”
“Yes and no. I originally had two of those Aimin-cursed Squads hot on my heels. That is until I limped into Nahirdil and met a bard. Not your average crackpot. Knowledgeable guy, though.”
“You started exchanging notes,” stated his father in an amused tone. “Didn’t you?”
“Yeah. And it’s a good thing I did. On his suggestion I delayed my departure, or else Agnipur would be swarming with Clerics right about now. You still want your kid with me?”
“Yes, I do,” Siman eventually declared. “Take him to the University. I’ll prepare his introductory letter. Place it in Hamilton’s hand…no one else must know. Unless Hamilton decides otherwise.” Siman was firm on the last point. “Do I have your word, James?”
After a short pause, James replied, “You do.”
What followed took Arjun by surprise. It was an unmistakable sound that he interpreted as a Battle Cleric hand-shake, clasping each other’s forearms.
Normal folk, or even other Clerics, always avoided physical contact while greeting, a custom so ingrained into the mindset of people that few remembered the reason behind it. In what was perhaps his most candid explanation ever, Arjun’s father had informed him that a rare few Clerics, the best of the best, possessed the ability to read surface thoughts through touch – and so, Arjun must always respect and obey this custom. Regard it as the ‘Word of Aimin’, to quote his father. Only exceptions to this unspoken rule of etiquette were Battle Clerics, who trusted each other with their lives, especially if they were Fistmates.
Despite his mild annoyance and utter confusion, Arjun would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited by the prospect of being able to study at the iconic University of Jivanpur.
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“So your boy is a TwinCleric?” James asked.
“Yes. He can Manipulate wood and stone surprisingly well, better than most Journeyman Clerics I’ve seen. But I tend not to tell him that. Success can sometimes go to his head.”
Arjun cringed. His father had a point. Also, he must really trust this James, since usually Siman was absolutely paranoid about Arjun’s abilities, sometimes going so far as to ward the room with custom-made sigils before talking about it. And that was inside their house.
“His strength, however, is his sensory range, which surpasses even mine.”
“Essence or Earth?”
“Both.”
A grunt of approval could be heard from the other man. “Always useful. But how adept is he at combat?”
“He lacks experience, both in actual combat and in life. When it comes to certain matters, he can be quite naïve.” A slight pause followed. “In others, he’s wise beyond his years…” At the last part, his father’s voice betrayed concern.
Arjun stood there, perplexed. Why does he sound concerned?
“Doesn’t have as thorough understanding in Manipulating metal, but then not many Clerics do, except Smiths and WeaponsMasters. His greatest weakness by far is his mediocre air Manipulation ability.”
Even through his dark complexion, shame suffused Arjun’s ears, turning them bright red.
“I feel his real talent might lie in something a bit more abstract in nature.”
At this, James gave a thoughtful grunt, while Arjun’s frown deepened.
“Healing?” probed the deep voice.
“Lacks practical experience in Healing, but has a solid foundation in anatomy, botany, and zoology. Old Thurma is teaching him.”
James gave a wry chuckle. “So, she’s still pissing off the Order? Good for her. What about Energy?” His voice turned grave, and Arjun’s mood turned graver. “Audrey was a Power Cleric, Allfather help her. But if your boy is TwinCleric, he might be able to negate the corrosive side effects of Energy Manipulation, though that comes with its own set of challenges, since there hasn’t been a TwinCleric at the Uni in over a century. Well, none except the old Chancellor, who spends all his time in Arungar. There won’t be anyone who can guide your boy.”
“How’s that old goat doing?”
“Thriving,” came the amused reply. “He’s as politically savvy as ever.” A pause followed, after which James’ voice gained an anxious edge. “What about his Stomach Chakra?”
“Opened but dormant. Hasn’t fully Awakened yet. But as you know, that can take up to a year after the Second Awakening. Hiding his nature will be easier till then, although…” His father hesitated for a brief moment before continuing, “He started a fire about a month back, by happenstance. I suspect that’s how Born got wind of him. If anyone can help Arjun understand and develop his abilities, it’s Hamilton and Chancellor Deadrin.”
A horse snorted, and the conversation ceased.
Fearing discovery, Arjun left quietly, mind reeling from all the revelations and implications. He was still sorting through all the information when he collided with Shiyelia, daughter of Bran, the lone history teacher of the only school in town.
Arjun’s pulse quickened on impact.
“Ah, here you are. We were looking all over for you.” Shiyelia had flowing waist-length black hair and had recently undergone a growth spurt, growing in all the right areas. “It’s not even dusk yet, and you’re bumping into people again, Arjun.”
“I… I was distracted,” Arjun managed to blurt out.
Why do I always fail to be coherent in front of her, while in my head I’m more articulate than Allfather himself?
“Ready for the good stuff??” Hammond joined the two of them in the alley between the wall and the inn, above the entrance to the cellar, rubbing his hands in anticipation. “Soon, I think we might be able to ferment alcohol by Manipulating the rice itself. Then, we won’t have to sneak in anymore. Hell, we can even start selling the stuff,” Hammond said, voice dreamy.
“Your last effort almost sent me to the hospice after one sip,” Shiyelia complained.
“Ah, patience. Even Allfather took one year to create humankind.” Hammond frowned. “And don’t you start on that aditarun blasphemy again,” he pointed an accusatory finger at Arjun.
Arjun grimaced, holding up his hands, “Alright.” He looked at the back of the cellar wall, “Should we get started, or should we wait? Surya is about to set. We can do it by the light of Kiran. Less chance of being spotted.”
The characteristic slow rhythmic sensation of hooves striking packed earth vibrated through Arjun’s favorite pair of salty boots, causing him to look up sharply toward the end of the passageway between the wall and the building. Shortly, the accompanying sound was audible, and an agitated horse came ambling toward them.
The cause of the horse’s agitation soon became evident. The rider was barely holding on to the saddle, and as the horse came to stop in front of them and whinnied, the man slipped out and fell to the ground, groaning in pain.
The trio ran to the hapless man who seemed to be unconscious, and covered in an alarming amount of blood.
Hammond hurriedly knelt beside the man, and put his hands on the chest, closing his eyes.
Even without doing any kind of diagnostic Healing, just from his quivering signature, Arjun felt the man was grievously injured, perhaps fatally so. He leaned in to get a closer look at his features.
What he saw startled him.
In the shadowy dusk he’d mistakenly thought it was a man, but now, looking at him closely, Arjun realized he was only a few years into his teens, but well-built, wearing dark cotton trousers and an expensive cream-colored silk shirt, tailored in the latest fashion from the capital, Aimingar.
“Is he alive?” Shiyelia’s voice shook. “Can you save him?”
“His kidney is severely damaged…” Hammond got to his feet, frustrated to the point of tears. “I can’t do anything. And he’ll be dead long before we can get him to Thurma.”
Hoping against hope, Arjun knelt, placing his shaking hands on the boy’s chest, then closed his eyes and concentrated, just as Thurma had taught him.
The kid was in exceptionally good health, except for what felt like a stab wound to his side, which had perforated the left kidney. Hammond was right. Neither he nor Arjun could do anything about it. They both lacked the necessary knowledge to repair the damage.
“Sigrid’s Balls!!! Why can’t we ever do anything useful with our abilities?”
Sensing a slight movement, Arjun opened his eyes, looking down at the boy, whose own eyes were open as he stared vacantly up at him. It was plain as day that the kid was in the grips of absolute agony and very close to death, so much so that Arjun’s senses were all but overwhelmed by the boy’s emotions.
Why would anyone stab a boy not even old enough to grow a moustache?
He was about to say a few parting words of solace to the kid when a shudder rippled through his kernel signature. Then, after a deep hollow fearful ache in his Heart, Arjun felt a pressure building inside him, followed by a burning sensation behind his eyes. The sensation rapidly permeated the whole of his being and by the time it reached his hands, which were still on the dying boy’s chest, it had transformed into a sharp painful feeling of irresistible change. A combination of kernel, essence, and something else flowed into the two secondary Palm Chakras which started glowing a blinding golden, and Arjun’s mouth gaped wide as he arched his head back and let out a mighty scream.
It felt like molten rock – or lava as it’s called, a detached part of his subconscious supplied – was flowing through his chest, down his arms and into the boy’s body.
As his scream increased in volume, the boy joined in. An eerie shimmering rainbow-colored ball of light had formed beneath Arjun’s hands, seemingly inside the nameless boy’s chest, rapidly growing in size and surrounding them both. The pressure and heat spread from his hands, increased, and kept on increasing. Arjun felt his heart was about to explode. As the light grew in intensity, he could see the bones of his own hands, glimpsed when the shimmer reached its peak.
Then, abruptly, after what felt like a lifetime to Arjun, everything vanished. The light, heat, and pressure.
And the world felt…muted. Less than it was a moment ago. Diminished in every aspect, as if someone had sucked all the color out of it.
It was only then that Arjun finally realized he’d stopped screaming, as had the boy who was unconscious again, but the kidney was whole. Good as new.
Dumbfounded, he took his hands away from the kid’s chest, feeling strangely hollow and drained, yet clear-headed.
It took a good thirty blinks for Hammond and Shiyelia to get their bearings back. And blinking was what they were mostly doing during that time, arms still crossed over their eyes to shield them from the intense afterglow.
Then, Shiyelia turned and fled as if Sigrid, the Lord of Hell himself, was after her.
Seeing the fear in her eyes, a grimace appeared on Arjun’s face.
What have I done now? Why do I always end up alienating my closest friends?
His legs grew weak, and Arjun slumped down on all four beside his slumbering patient.
He had strange eyes, the boy. Dark-brown with flecks of deeper brown around the irises.
The unbidden thought brought on by the earlier memory, when he’d stared into the kid’s eyes, startled Arjun. He shook his head trying to clear the fog which, after a bout of clear-headedness, seemed to have slowly enveloped his sluggish Crown Chakra.
“What did you do? You Healed him?” Hammond placed his hands on the boy’s chest. Almost immediately, his eyes widened in disbelief. “How?” he demanded, scrambling away in fear. “You can’t Heal without knowing how to. Moreover, that didn’t look like any active Healing Thurma showed us. How did you do it?” A hint of jealousy crept into his voice. “Have you been taking lessons from her in secret? And what was that light? Couldn’t even look at you!! Hairs on my whole body stood up!”
Arjun could understand Hammond’s confusion, but the jealousy was definitely uncalled-for. “I don’t know how I did it,” said he in a hoarse whisper. “Aimin’s Balls!! I don’t even know what I did let alone how I did it.”
Arjun gazed at the palm of his hands. They were just as they always were. He could’ve sworn his skin had melted. The tips of his fingers tingled, eliciting an involuntary shiver.
Then, all of a sudden, Hammond glanced up toward the end of the alley, his eyes growing wide with fear.
Arjun was still reeling from the after-effects of that ‘Healing’. As a result, he was totally oblivious to the man who had been stealthily approaching the three of them.
The red giant star Surya had finally dipped below the horizon. With the lingering Monsoon clouds reflecting the sun’s rays, the sky had turned an ominous crimson. The white dwarf star Kiran’s meager slanted rays provided very little illumination. Arjun squinted, trying to determine the stranger’s intent, which proved impossible as his senses were all over the place.
The man was dressed in the same fashion as the boy lying next to Arjun. The only additional article of clothing was a long black cloak which hid his lower face, leaving only the eyes visible. He was tall, almost abnormally so, even taller than Arjun. In mere blinks, his long lithe strides effortlessly closed the distance between them.
Which enabled Arjun to see the bloody serrated knife in the man’s right hand.
Anger boiled inside him. He used every ounce of his recovering strength to get up, and then, stalked off to face this foe who had undoubtedly come to finish the job. Behind him, an almost palpable wave of fear and subsequent sound of running feet told him he’d be alone in this fight.
A friend in need indeed.
“You’re the one who stabbed him.”
“I did,” the man answered in a soft gentle voice, holding an unfamiliar but pleasant accent, completely at odds with his deadly appearance. “And for deducing that, I regret to say that I must repeat the action with you.”
It was also then, when he was within spitting distance from Arjun, that it became apparent the man was a Manipulator – though his Chakras were indistinct, phasing in and out of existence in a phenomenon that left Arjun baffled.
Never having seen such a muffled kernel signature before, Arjun hesitated, but only for a blink.
He had a patient to protect.
Biting down on his growing fear and frustration, Arjun did what his father had always told him to do when in doubt.
He attacked.