“You two wanna listen to another story of mine?” Fennec asked, chuckling.

He walked slowly but steadily, taking the lead as they walked amidst the woods. He was taking them to a friend who could provide some horses. Fennec had proposed stealing them from a nearby town but Endov stopped them, arguing that stealing was a sin too great to be overlooked. Crane agreed with him. Not because of the same moral reason, but because he wanted to stay low and undetected by a certain gale.

“Why bother like we have any say?” Crane protested, tired of both the walk and Fennec’s stories. Crane didn’t know whether he preferred the stories or the prior whinings he had. Because before them, it had looked like Fennec could complain about not stealing the horses for hours until they saw an elk, their saviour, watching them from afar.

The elk had judged them to be a threat and ran away immediately, getting lost in the woods but it was enough to distract Fennec and his unending banter.

He began telling stories, one after another, beginning with how he once caught an Elk with white antlers.

At least he’s not whining anymore, Crane thought and without an expectation of entertainment, he continued. “Okay, but I swear to Ruiz if you tell a lie again, I’ll turn you into fish. That way, at least you would fill my stomach.”

“Swear to Rever instead, brother.” Endov was walking right beside Crane.

When they were running for their lives at the keep, Endov had been very easy to get tired but now he seemed much more energetic. He had spent the longest time in that cell, the damp walls and the iron bars took a deep toll in there no matter how many blankets one was wrapped into.

“These lands answer to him. And, Fennec, he can’t turn you into a chicken. He can move physical objects around or manifest what is inside but turning one into an entirely different thing is impossible. Even the spineless Anosî could only shift their own shapes.”

“And with that, you have destroyed our only chance for peace and quiet. By the way, what even is an Anosî?” Crane asked as he kept the pace. How in Eilar you are completely healed? He was going to ask too but he postponed that for later. For now, he focused on numbing the scar left on his arm and his toes. If he did not, walking would become extremely hard.

“Servants of the devils. Sent from the depths of hell to invade the mortal land silently in front of our eyes.”

Crane shrugged his shoulders. Illusions were one of the subjects Anem was forcing Crane to learn but he never liked it. Hiding what something truly was with magic felt strange to him. I can notice it when I see one, he thought. He had never been good at it but was sure that he wouldn’t be fooled by a mere illusion.

“Do not take them lightly, brother. Hubris is a sin that dwells in the strongest.” Endov looked like he noticed what Crane had been thinking. “It is also the reason many die even before seeing a battlefield. What they do is not illusions but entirely remake their bodies. Sinew and bone, flesh and skin. Lord Vaella exterminated them because they infiltrated the ranks of the empire, thwarting us in our war against the legions of Eilar.”

“Sounds… dreadful.” Crane couldn’t really fathom how desperate humanity had been to survive a millennium ago. Hell rising to take them, monsters on the loose, continents getting destroyed never to be restored. It sounded like the apocalypse had fallen upon them and yet humanity had survived.

The beast. He remembered. The one hid under Crane’s peaceful island. Then he remembered why he was here. He had never forgotten it, but talking to people was a great distraction.

Having an actual conversation instead of throwing fireballs and dodging fists made him realize how much he craved to talk with people. The spirits could talk too, like Mefdet and Azavel but it was different with them. They understood what being a human was only as much as Crane could comprehend what a spirit was. They were fundamentally different.

Still, he had to get Azavel and Arash. He needed to bring Levise the news.

“Lying is another sin that we must refrain from at any cost, no matter how great it is.” Endov continued. “And your threats could work much better with honesty…” He paused for a chuckle. “…and some fire.”

“Really, great cost? Am I that boring? Okay, what about the time I found this gorgeous mermaid?”

“Can you speak the truth for a second?” Endov was starting to lose his nerves. It almost looked like lying in front of him hurt him physically. “They have been extinct for almost a millennium. Decimated along the rivers and lakes of Nevra.”

“The one I met wasn’t that extinct you know? And I did a lot more than just meeting her.” Lance winked repeatedly with his mouth open with a smile. “She was stranded on land and I had to keep her wet you know.”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“To lay or to lie, you don’t leave your soul any chance but to sin.”

Fennec slowed down and let the other two catch up to him. “Don’t be so grim.” He put a hand on Endov’s shoulder. “How about you tell us a story? We have a little more to walk until the town.”

There was indeed some time left until they reached Ardhill, where Fennec’s friend resided. Crane wasn’t really sure how much of a help this friend would be but it was the best he got at the moment.

“Hmm...” The tall priest pondered as he towered the other two, walking. “Gladly.” He continued as he decided on what to tell and continued.

“Once upon a time…” He turned at them, dark skin creasing as he furrowed his brows. “…there was a woman. A monster clad in human skin and no humanity left within.” His eyes which looked as if they had witnessed the monster sent shivers down Crane’s spine.

Winds gently swept the grass and some leaves fell onto the small trail they had been following in the forest.

“That’s a fairytale! And who was the one preaching about lying?”

“Wait.” Crane joined. “Let him continue.” Maybe it was the monster, maybe it was Endov’s excellent narration; Crane wasn’t sure why but the story had intrigued him.

“Whatever.” Fennec shrugged his shoulders. “I guess I am the only one here with some taste in stories.”

“A demon.” Endov continued, his voice as serious as his face. “Who drank the blood of innocents and crawled like a serpent. Her fangs were like daggers coated in blood and her skin was as pale as ice.”

The man looked around as he stopped. As if the monster was watching them.

Crane looked around too, hoping to see something looking back at him amidst the trees. He then shifted his gaze to the priest, as Endov got closer, his voice soon turning into a whisper.

“She would crawl door by door in the depths of the night… and knock. She would…” Endov hesitated to continue with a pale face as he slowed down.

“She would what?” Crane asked, enthusiastically lost in the tale.

To Crane’s surprise, Endov shouted. He snarled like a snake as he raised his hands like claws. Crane jumped out of his hypnotic state with a scream.

After trying hard for a minute or so to calm down, Endov stopped laughing and continued. “She would take the naughty children who stood up until midnight.”

“Not funny.” Crane gulped, feeling the cold beads of sweat trickling down his back.

“Story wasn’t, you were.” Fennec wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. He laughed so hard as Endov scared Crane, that he almost fell on his knees. “I didn’t think you would fall for it. Everyone knows that tale. Did you grow up in a cave or something?”

“You could say that.” Crane shrugged it off.

“You prayed to Ruiz. Are you from the south? Not many caves in those riverlands.”

Was Anem from the south? Crane asked himself. He would often hear that name from him. As he prayed and swore. The latter more often.

“Not really. I lived on an island. North of here.”

“In the dead sea?” Fennec looked surprised. “How did you even survive?”

“The island wasn’t dead. The place was…” Boring, monotonous, a cage. Words rushed to his mind one after another to describe his home. “It was peaceful.”

He had been trying to get out all his life but he wasn’t going to ignore the good bits. Like how he watched the sunrise over the hill on the west. How Anem brewed him tea from the leaves Crane had grown. How the animals danced around him in the forest and how he lay on the sea under the sun, sleeping afloat.

“Were you alone?” Endov asked with a sliver of concern in his eyes.

“No. I was with my… grandfather.”

Crane knew Anem wasn’t his grandfather. He had asked the old man many times over tea, but Anem refused it fervently each time. He always told Crane that he ended up washing on the coast as a baby. That the sea was his mother and the sky was his father. Crane didn’t believe that story but he had no other choice either.

Still, No matter how Anem was related to him, Crane knew it deep inside. His master loved him.

His training methods were harsh but he taught him well. His affection seemed like it has lessened the more Crane grew but he knew under that cold face was a man unable to openly care.

“Must have been boring. Trapped with an old man. Was his stories any good?” Fennec asked, seeming genuinely interested.

Trapped with an old man. Crane silently repeated with a sigh. That was what he had felt for a lifetime but this was the first time he heard it from someone else. It hurt him in a way he didn’t understand how exactly.

“Not much really. Old man rarely told stories. Though, he told me he used to work in the forge of a blacksmith. We had a forge on the island as well. He thought me how to forge some simple tools.”

“We won’t be lighting up an oven you know right? I hope your master taught you something useful.”

Crane smiled, sure of his own skills, even more so of his master’s. “He taught me enough.”

“Not enough to keep you out of a dungeon I guess.” Fennec laughed, his back turned at the other two.

“Hey!” Crane set the hem of Fennec’s old shirt on fire. He wasn’t sure whether it was because he was insulted or his master was. “I was half dead when I faced Illgale.”

Everyone had some mana. It reverberated from the heart as proof of one’s soul. People like Fennec had only a little, their souls didn’t overflow into mana like mages. So, affecting Fennec’s body and using fire on his clothes wasn’t hard at all.

If he tried to do the same to Endov he would probably fail. One mage could directly affect another mage’s body only if they were far superior in experience and talent and Crane didn’t think Endov was in any way inferior to him.

Even though the latter was more specialized in using the magical attribute on himself to enhance his abilities and size instead of conjuring flashy fireballs, he still brimmed with power.

Upon feeling the sparks that soon turned into a tiny flame on his back, Fennec screamed and tried to put off the fire by running around and slapping his back.

Soon, the fire died out. Not because Fennec managed to put it off but because Crane cut off the mana supply.

“Cunt.” Fennec spat, sitting on the dirt, his hands on the burnt hem. “You owe me a shirt.”

“I am planning on paying you altogether when the Illgale finds us. By saving your life.”

“You are too eager to fight him again, brother.” Endov looked at Crane as they neared the end of the woods. There, in front of them, lay the town of Ardhill. Basked in the midday sun, full of caravans and merchants. “I hope the thrill of a rematch won't put you in a fight you can avoid.”