The day before the Finals, Narvari met her friends in the Academy Lounge to catch up on things. Yanvirrak narrated excitedly about their undercover mission. Their mission took place in a high school in Johannesburg and it involved tracking down two demons who had shape-shifted into students. The demons lured several unsuspecting students into their lair to feed on their hearts. After Yanvirrak explained how he heroically defeated the demons and saved the students, the conversation drifted to Narvari’s Finals.

Eventually, their conversation drifted to Narvari’s Finals.

“So what should I expect from the Finals?” asked Narvari

“I can’t really say,” Yanvirrak said. “It’s different for every rookie.”

“What was yours like?”

Yanvirrak shrugged. “Trixan sent me to a village in Liberia infested with demonic plague. She said I would pass my Finals once I eliminated the plague. I found the source and got rid of it.”

“You make it sound simple.”

“It was not, Shar. I almost died.”

Narvari laughed but then froze when Yanvirrak’s signature grin didn’t appear. “Wait, you’re serious?” She gaped. “You know, what? Now that I think about it, Trixan left me back in a simulation where I almost died. She says she cares about us, and I believe her most of the time. But sometimes, I don’t know. It’s like she doesn’t care.”

Yanvirrak looked at Narvari like she had said the most inane thing in the world. Even Pheera didn’t look pleased. Unlike Yanvirrak however, she just smiled politely. One of those smiles that said, I don’t agree with you, but I hear you.

“If there’s one person who cares about us, it’s Trixan,” said Yanvirrak. “Her training methods can be rather extreme but it’s for the best.”

“Is that what she told you?”

“No. I just know it. You don’t understand yet because you’ve never been on a mission. The job of a vanquisher is probably the most dangerous in the world. We’re always at risk of dying but Trixan ensures that we have a fair chance at survival by putting us through the hardest of training.”

“Even if it kills us?”

“Don’t be a drama queen, Shar. If your training kills you, chances are that you were never meant for a real mission.”

Narvari bit her lips in silence. Yanvirrak was probably right. Narvari might have never been on a mission, but she had seen one for herself. Her own home had been that mission and those vanquishers involved had almost died.

“Don’t misunderstand Trixan, Narvari,” Pheera interrupted her thoughts. “She might put us through harsh training, but she will always intervene when she sees we have no chance of surviving.”

“So she’ll intervene if something goes wrong during my Finals?”

Yanvirrak laughed. “Someone’s scared.”

Narvari rolled her eyes. Ignoring Yanivrrak, she asked Pheera, “Will Trixan really intervene?”

Pheera nodded and put her hand on Narvari’s shoulder. “But I don’t think you want that.”

Narvari tensed. “Why not?”

“Because her intervention is proof that you’re not ready to become a junior vanquisher. You’ll train another year until the next Finals.”

“A whole year?” Narvari’s jaw dropped. “Damn, you are right. I don’t want that.”

“I know.” Pheera smiled. “That’s why you have to pass your Finals at all costs. Trust me, many missions are more difficult than the Finals. Trixan ensures that the difficulty level of your Finals matches your capability. If you can’t survive that then you can’t survive on a mission.”

“Hmm.” Narvari nodded. “And what was yours like?”

“It involved a Vessel taking control over a town in the Gambia.”

“A Vessel?” Wow, these assholes were everywhere. “And how did it go?”

“Not easy, honestly.” Pheera shook her head. “I wasn’t just going against a Vessel. I was going against her entire demon legion. But I defeated them and freed the town.”

Narvari asked Yanvirrak what he thought her Finals would be like and he listed several possibilities, most of which were of course, ridiculous. She had to admit that he was quite creative with his suggestions. Creatively dark.

As they talked and laughed, someone walked up to their table. Narvari immediately recognized the silver-eyed man with purple hair tied in a bun. His senior vanquisher uniform fit him perfectly.

Servin. That must be his name if she remembered correctly.

“Hello, Rookie.” Servin grinned. “I heard you’re taking your Finals tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” said Narvari. She hadn’t realized that everyone was looking forward to her Finals. “Once I pass, you’ll stop calling me a rookie.”

Servin chuckled. “Not really.”

“You two already know each other?” Yanvirrak asked.

“Of course,” said Servin looking at each of them with a playful smirk. “Well, look at that. It’s a whole squad, isn’t it? Pheera, Rookie, and Farouk.” Farouk? Narvari looked at Yanvirrak with raised brows. And why did Pheera get to keep her name? Because she’s perfect, that’s why. Narvari sighed as Pheera smiled warmly at her. “So what’s your squad name? Pheeroofa?” Servin nodded, clearly impressed with his naming skills. “That sounds really good. I like it.”

“No,” said Yanvirrak. “It’s terrible.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“I agree. It’s a catastrophe.” Narvari grimaced. What the hell was a Pheeroofa? It sounded like the name of a one-star roofing company.

“Yeah, don’t be a hater.” Servin laughed. Then turning to Pheera, he said, “Trixan would like to see you in her office now, Pheera.”

Pheera nodded. “Alright.”

Narvari had never understood why Trixan always sent others to look for them when she could call them directly or send them a message on their xuul or something.

Servin said, “Anyway, I need to get going. All the best Pheeroofa.”

Yanvirrak groaned. “Please, don’t call us that.”

Servin laughed heartily before walking away.

“He’s fun,” said Narvari.

Yanvirrak rolled his eyes. “I prefer his teaching rather than his corny ass jokes.”

“He’s a teacher?”

“Not a teacher. More like a tutor. He helps to train the juniors when he’s free.”

“I don’t see the difference, Farouk.”

Yanvirrak blankly stared at Narvari. She returned the stare with an even graver intensity. The two engaged in their staring contest until they both laughed.

Pheera chuckled, getting up. “I should go see Trixan.

As Pheera left, Narvari could not help but stare at the girl’s slender frame. Those shapely long legs, long white hair draping past her waist, and the perfectly fitting dress. God, how was one person so perfect?

“So are you just going to keep looking at her or are you going to ask her?”

“What?” Narvari quickly turned to Yanvirrak. “Ask who what?”

“Dude, I know you know exactly what I’m talking about.” Yanvirrak winked.

Narvari paused. She knew exactly what Yanvirrak was talking about. “So,” she said, “why does Servin call you Farouk?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“What subject? You seem to answer by that name naturally so I’m just curious. Why does he call you that?”

Yanvirrak sighed, probably in resignation. “Because it’s my name, Shar.”

Narvari narrowed her eyes. “What?” Was this one of Yanvirrak’s jokes? But the usual amusement he held in his eyes when he was joking was not there. “I thought your name was Yanvirrak Hymns.”

“Hanes… You know what, never mind.” Yanvirrak chuckled. “Hanes is actually my middle name. My full name is Yanvirrak Hanes Farouk.”

“Wait, that Farouk?” Narvari’s raised a brow. “As in, the Arab Farouk?”

“Yeah.” Yanvirrak smiled. “My dad is Syrian. And my mum is Ukrainian.”

“What?”

“Okay, Shar. You really need to close your mouth.”

“But I’m shocked.”

“I can see that.”

Narvari studied Yanvirrak’s features closely. The more she looked at those deep black eyes, jet black curly hair, and light creamy skin, the more she saw the East European and Arab mix.

Damn. “Okay,” said Narvari, “I can understand why your name is Farouk. But what the hell is Yanvirrak Hanes? I may not speak Ukrainian, but I sure as hell know that shit is not Ukrainian.”

Yanvirrak laughed. “It’s a total mind-fuck, I know.”

“Honestly, I’m really confused. I always assumed you were from Agon. Just like Pheera”

He laughed. “I’ve never been to Agon.”

“Right. Now your American accent makes a lot of sense.”

“It’s Canadian.”

“What?”

“My accent is Canadian. I was born and raised in Canada.”

“Your mother is Ukrainian, your father is Syrian and you were born in Canada. Interesting.”

“Believe me, Shar, my ancestry gets even more complicated than that.”

“And what about Azmel? He sounds pretty English.”

“Well, he grew up in the UK. Actually, he and I are like you.”

“You’re like me?” Narvari chuckled. “What, you think I have a cacophony of a name like Yanvirrak Hanes Farouk? It’s Narvari Shar, bitch.”

Yanvirrak laughed. “Screw you, Narvari I Have A Perfect Name Shar. What I mean is that Azmel and I are from the Outer Sphere like you.”

“Oh.” She thought all vanquishers were from Agon. Well, she wasn’t from Agon so it was logical that there were other vanquishers out there who weren’t from there either. But genes did play a role. So maybe just like Narvari, Yanvirrak probably had an ancestor from Agon too. Maybe that was why he said he had a complicated ancestry.

“I was actually named after my paternal great great great grandmother. Her father was from Agon but her mother was from Qartras,” said Yanvirrak.

“Qartras?” Where had Narvari heard this before? Then her eyes widened as it heavily dawned on her. “The Higher Domain? You have ancestors from Outer Sphere, Central Domain, and Higher Domain?”

“I told you I have a complicated ancestry.” Yanvirrak shrugged. “Most of my great great great grandmother’s descendants never awakened sacred energy but I was lucky to be one of the few who did. Actually, I’m the only one in the last three generations.” Yanvirrak nodded. “I assume you have an ancestor from Agon too. I mean that’s the only explanation for your awakening.”

“I guess so too,” said Narvari. “Now I get why Yanvirrak doesn’t sound Slavic or Arabic.”

“Right? I’m glad I was named after Yanvirran Hanes Maplevine. She too was a vanquisher, you know. A powerful one at that.” Yanvirrak smiled proudly. “Oh, by the way, Yanvirrak is the male form of Yanvirran. In case you’re wondering.”

Narvari was not wondering about that. Something else took her attention entirely. Did Yanvirrak just say his ancestor was called Maplevine? Hadn’t she seen that name somewhere before? She was sure she had seen it somewhere before. But there was something else that got her thinking. If none of Yanvirrak’s parents had awakened, how did they know about vanquishers to even name Yanvirrak after one?

“Do your parents know you vanquish demons for a living?”

“Of course they do. Vanquisher lore is very much alive on my father’s side of the family. I was seventeen when I awakened for the first time. Everyone was shocked, but they all knew what I was. You should have seen my grandfather.” Yanvirrak grinned widely. “He was so happy to know that someone had finally awakened a vaz and he so much wanted me to enroll at Maplevine School just like my ancestor.”

Maplevine School. That was it, Narvari thought. She now remembered where she had seen that name. Maplevine School was one of the Twelve Schools she had seen on Trixan’s freakishly large TV. Wow. Yanvirrak’s ancestor was connected to one of the Twelve Schools.

“Maplevine is one of the Dominant Families in Agon, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Yanvirrak nodded. “These families may unite against demons, but they can be quite petty towards each other. It’s a dog-eat-dog world back there, I heard.”

“I’m certain it’s a dog-eat-dog world everywhere.”

“True.” Yanvirrak smirked.

A comfortable silence settled between the two until Narvari said, “So how did you end up here if you were supposed to go to Maplevine School? You said Trixan recruited you, right?”

“Yeah, it just happened. The day after I awakened, she suddenly showed up at my house with Rizav.”

“Rizav?”

“You haven’t met her. She’s one of our few senior vanquishers but she hardly ever stays in the school. I mean, I’ve been here for three years and I have seen her only three times. I’m not even kidding.”

“I know what you mean.” Narvari nodded. “I hardly see any vanquishers around. How many are there anyway?”

“In the Ancient Order of Vanquishers or Draghein School?”

“Do you know both?”

“Rough estimate,” Yanvirrak wiggled his fingers, “there are millions in the Order. But here in Draghein School, there are only twenty-one of us. Well, at least for those who reside in the school.”

“So few.”

“I know. It’s probably why Trixan does her special recruitment.”

“Does she do a lot of this special recruitment?”

“I guess so. But obviously, she doesn’t get many recruits. Since I came here, I’ve never officially seen a rookie enroll in this school. Most of us, including you, were specially recruited. I don’t think the other schools have this problem.”

“Do you know why this is happening?”

Yanvirrak shrugged. “No idea. Trixan doesn’t talk about it. And no one complains either. She runs the school effectively anyway. That woman is a fucking legend, you know. Seriously, what else do you expect from someone trained by one of the greatest vanquishers of all time? That’s actually why I agreed to come with her when she decided to recruit me.”

Narvari raised a brow. “Are we talking about the Storm of Hell?”

“Dude, it’s Hellstorm. Put some respect on his name.”

“Isn’t he dead?”

“He died a hero.”

“How exactly?”

“Saving the world.” Yanvirrak paused. “He was killed on a mission by a demon.”

“So the greatest vanquisher of all time was killed by a demon. How exactly was he the greatest again?”

Yanvirrak gaped at Narvari as if she had just said the most blasphemous thing in the universe. “Why the hell am I friends with you, Shar?”

“Wait,” Narvari put a hand on her chest, “we are friends, Hermit?”