The man’s heavy boots echoed through the narrow corridors of the Mercenary Hall. We passed by clusters of mercenaries leaning against the walls, waiting. Most probably they waited to enter inside the training chambers or something.
My curiosity was picked, yet I hold it back, not wanting to raise another question for now.
The corridor opened into a dimly lit chamber where orange fires danced on the walls. The room was a perfect circle forged from a polished, black alloy that shimmered faintly under the light of the fires.
The man stopped, turning to face me.
“I owe you an introduction,” he said, his tone dropping into something almost conversational. "But I couldn't do it with everyone watching. I am not supposed to be friendly, you understand?"
Before I could reply, he placed a hand on his chest with a gesture of pride. “I am Urgut, Girath’s sworn brother. By oath, not blood.”
Suspicion flared in my chest. “Forgive me, Mr. Urgut, but may I see your identification plate? Burning my master’s letter hardly helps me trust you.” My words were measured, more of a test than an accusation.
Nowadays, identification plates were considered relics of the past, carried only by the old-timers and those struggling to make ends meet. Girath had shared with me that the group he used to work with had a unique tradition: each member deliberately dented the corner of their plate as a reminder of their time together. So it was worth testing it.
To my surprise, Urgut’s laughter boomed, hearty and genuine. He reached into his cloak and handed me a green plate. “Girath said you’d ask for it.”
I quickly glanced at the plate before returning it, raising an eyebrow. What had master written in that letter?
Urgut's grin widened as he pocketed it back.
“I burned the letter because I’ve memorized its contents,” he explained. “We do not accept recommendation letters, so others must not find out about it. So, technically, you’re my nephew, huh? But don’t expect special treatment. We’ll talk more once I’ve finished my duties, understood?”
I gave a curt nod, but before I could respond, his demeanor shifted. Seriousness enveloping him like armor.
“As head of Karum’s Mercenary Hall branch, it’s my job to manage our people. The pile of papers you saw on my desk, all are records of mercenaries—men and women who died or retired, often due to injury. Thousands lose their lives every year in this line of work.” He leaned closer, his gaze piercing. “So tell me, as both an uncle and a leader: Are you certain about this path? You’ll never know when death might knock, and every dawn could be your last. Your family, your-”
“Mr. Urgut,” I interrupted, my voice firm. I wasn’t here for a lecture I’d heard a thousand times before. “I know the risks. If this job was only about danger, no one would choose it. I’m willing to take the gamble for the reward. My goals demand it. I’m not here because I enjoy the mercenary life—I’m here because it’s the shortest, surest path to where I need to be. My decision is made.”
Urgut regarded me with an intensity that seemed to peel away layers of pretense. At last, he nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Decisive. I respect that,” he said. “You’ve passed my personal test. Now for the real one.” He gestured behind him. “See that pedestal?”
I frowned, stepping to the side to peer around his broad frame. A weathered black stone pedestal rose in the center of the room, wires and crystals were embedded into its surface, pulsing faintly.
“Now I do,” I said. The familiar, "Synch-Test".
Urgut chuckled dryly at my behavior, but the mirth quickly faded from his face, replaced by an intensity that made the air between us feel heavier.
“Place your hand on that pedestal and channel your flux,” he ordered. “Let me see your mark.”
I stepped forward, each movement deliberate. The pedestal’s surface was cold, its texture smooth like polished stone. I extended my hand, feeling the familiar weight of expectation from the academy settle on my shoulders.
The moment my shard connected with the device, the atmosphere shifted. It was as if the room itself inhaled in unison, holding its breath for what was to come.
A spectral glow began to emanate from my body, soft and ethereal, as if my very essence had been lit from within. The purple light crawled along my skin, tracing intricate patterns from the mark etched onto my lower abdomen. Above the pedestal, my mark materialized—a complex fractal like a neural network was suspended in mid-air, its ghostly image pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.
“An animancer?” Urgut murmured, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. “You are an animancer. But that pattern…” He stepped closer, scrutinizing the fractal lines. “What kind of shard did you bond with to produce such a complex design? A mid-tier, a top one.”
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I said nothing, letting his question hang unanswered in the charged silence. For me it didn't matter. So others had no right to know, only the right to despair trying to find out.
Urgut sighed, conceding to my reticence. “Your mark is stable and potent, with high growth potential. If the fates are kind, you could reach the 4th Sky in your lifetime.” He folded his arms, his tone softening. “I almost feel guilty for accepting you into this mercenary life, knowing what you could achieve elsewhere.”
I met his gaze evenly, unwilling to rehash the same tired arguments I’d endured with my master. The first shard I have bonded with, the one they stole from me, was my family's treasure. A mid-tier ranked shard of the aqua element that my grandpa paid a hefty price to obtain. And I'd lost it.
It was given to me, and I had the responsibility of taking care of my family, of spreading our name far and wide and ensuring a better future for the generations that would come. Yet I broke the vow I made back then.
And now, not only I can't wear the family name at all, but I can't even meet my mother and little brother from the fear of painting a target on their backs. If those people learn that I am still alive, they won't let my family alone. So it's for the best that I remain hidden.
“Let’s move on,” Urgut said gruffly, gesturing toward a nearby sphere.
I approached it with disinterest. The sphere hummed to life as I channeled my flux into it. An energy field formed around me, the vibrations resonating through my mark. A moment later, numbers appeared, projected in shimmering, holographic light.
[ Shard Synch Lvl - 22% ]
[ Corruption Lvl - 13% ]
The display was accompanied by an automated announcement, its mechanical voice echoing through the chamber.
Urgut stroked his beard thoughtfully. “And here I thought my instincts were playing tricks on me when I pegged you as a 2nd Sky. Tell me, boy, how old are you?”
“Sixteen,” I replied.
Urgut raised a hand, signaling to someone out of my sight. A woman emerged from an adjacent room, entering my peripheral vision.
“One more test,” Urgut said, his voice tinged with curiosity. “I can’t help wondering why Girath sent you here. A 2nd Sky at sixteen… with your talent and looks, you could easily find a place among the Twelve Principal Houses. With time, you could marry into power, maybe even secure a match with one of the purest lineages.”
Marriage? Hah. But what if my standards are so high that only a few could meet them? What if I have no interest in using marriage as a stepping stone? What if I don’t trust the nobility to protect me anymore?
No one in this kingdom, noble or otherwise, can offer me the freedom and protection I need. No one.
“Everyone has their agenda, their path,” I said with a firm voice. “So do I.”
Urgut’s lips quirked upward in a faint smile. “Fair enough. But it still surprises me that Lefeer’s Prodigy Academy hasn’t snapped you up. How did they miss you?”
He paused, scrutinizing me with a sharpness that felt like a blade at my throat. “And let’s not pretend you’re Girath’s son. You don’t look a thing like him. Are you even from this kingdom?”
I raised an eyebrow, keeping my composure. Was this a test, was it not?
Anyway, this was a question I’d rehearsed countless times. “Girath is more of a father to me than anyone else ever could be,” I said with a smirk. “Of course I don’t resemble him. I was adopted. As for my origins, your guess is as good as mine.”
Urgut’s eyes narrowed briefly, but then he burst into hearty laughter. It echoed through the room, filling the silence with its rough warmth. Whether he believed me or not, he seemed content to let the matter rest—for now.
"Girath, that lucky old bastard. Looks like he finally found someone worthy of carrying his legacy. Unlike his cowardly firstborn." His sharp gaze softened slightly as he continued, "Don’t worry, kiddo. Girath and I, we’re brothers by oath. If you’re capable enough, I’ll guide you—help spread your reputation. But first, you'll have to tell me all about the old man. What’s he been up to these years? I only hear from him in letters. Why doesn’t he visit? Is he sick?"
Before I could muster a response, a soft, measured voice cut through the tension. "Mr. Urgut, I’ve brought the vial."
The woman stepped forward, her presence graceful but authoritative. Her interruption seemed to pull Urgut from his barrage of questions. He cleared his throat and resumed his imposing demeanor. "Thank you, Lena. Alright, boy. This vial contains liquid flux. I want you to shape it into a sphere and hold it steady."
Without hesitation, Lena handed me the vial. The liquid shimmered with an almost ethereal light. It was a potent concentration of flux energy. I didn’t wait for further instructions. Uncorking the vial, I poured the liquid into my palm. The raw energy immediately rebelled, searing against my mental control as it tried to invade my body.
I gritted my teeth, focusing my will. Slowly, the liquid flux bent to my command, coalescing into a perfect sphere that hovered above my hand. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat. Time passed as beads of sweat formed on my brow. The strain on my mental power becoming more then I could endure, my vision blurring at the edges.
"Good," Urgut muttered, checking the time on his ornate pocket watch. "That’ll do."
With a wave of his hand, the sphere of liquid flux hovering above my palm lost its shape, dissolving into a stream of light before snaking back into the vial. The intense pressure that had been pounding against my mind dissipated instantly, leaving me momentarily lightheaded. Relief swept over me like a cool breeze.
"Now, for the final test," Urgut announced, his tone sharpening with importance. He gestured toward Lena with a slight nod. "Bring the box."
Lena obeyed, swaying her hips with the grace of a swan, cradling an electronic device no larger than a thick tome. Its sleek surface was adorned with a display and many colored buttons.
"Sir, please place your hand inside." She flipped open the device's lid, revealing an interior lined with crystalline panels that refracted the ambient light into a spectrum of colors. "This will scan your energetic structure and extract the data we need to finalize your profile."
I glanced at her, searching for any sign of deception, but her expression remained calm and professional. Exhaling softly, I inserted my hand into the device. The cool metal adjusted around my fingers as faint vibrations hummed through my skin.
Lena activated the device with a touch, and it came alive with a soft chime. Beams of light danced within, forming intricate, lattice-like patterns that crawled over my hand like living threads. The scanning process was an elaborate display of energy mapping my essence.
I felt an odd warmth spread through my arm, not unpleasant but deeply invasive, as if the machine were peering into the very fabric of my soul.
After what felt like an eternity, Lena’s voice broke through the ambient hum. "It’s done." She closed the device with a decisive click and offered a faint smile. "I’ll prepare the registration documents."
Urgut gave a satisfied grunt. "Good. Follow me to my office," he said, already striding toward the chamber’s exit. "We’ve got some questions to cover before this is official."