After his soak at the bathhouse, Ren headed straight to the barracks and sleep took him.

Orders came first thing the next morning in the form of a note delivered by courier. He was to join Cloud Company 7 on their patrol route of the roads and farms south of the valley. They would be stopping in Rattan to resupply in two weeks. Ren reported to Command, and the receptionist gave him a list of duties and training to pick from during the coming downtime. He signed on for shooting range time, combat training with the infantry—which he assured the man he would just watch—and his own scouting route as a solo forester, alternating between his forester duties and training every few days. He managed to secure a route that took him close to the badger’s den, so he got to check on Bargan’atar, play with the cubs–who were growing up too fast–and confer with Mupali’katana.

The days passed quickly, and as he spent more time in the woods checking for signs of Aether Beasts his memories of tracking the Black Claws came back sharp. Sharper than he would have thought. In fact, as he explored and trained he came to understand something—the Silver Fox Meditation seemed to burn memories into his mind with exacting detail down to scent and sound and the subtle muscular twitch in a deer’s leg the moment before it bounded off.

Once he realized this, he started watching the other archers with his Silver Fox Meditation, their speed shooting techniques and quick-draw drills. He also managed to sit in on a few sparring matches between Asbar when they passed through Rattan. He’d been so excited to copy their techniques that it didn’t occur to him that his body wasn’t ready for their acrobatic flying kicks and sweeping takedowns until he was flat on his face in the dirt. Their strength and agility, he realized, surpassed normal human limits, and as such was so far out of his realm that imitation was useless at best, and dangerous at worst.

With empty pockets and a flute in hand, Ren learned he could earn free drinks at the Pointy End. Few things soothed his spirit and washed away the memories of blood better than getting lost in a song. Cheap rice wine helped too.

The days were long as he pushed himself to surpass his limits. To run faster, hit harder, perfect his draw with the bow. And then he was given an additional challenge. At the end of the first week he was summoned to the commissary and issued a primer on script activation and talisman use, as well as a few practice talismans of various difficulty to train his control with.

Ren sat in the hallway of the barracks, with his practice talismans. For two days, he’d failed to get the first one to light, and he found himself drained after just five attempts. But tonight he approached it differently. Rather than slamming his Qi into the script like a wave, he slowly filled the supply pool then threaded the energy into the starting conduit like a needle, accepting the pull as more Qi was demanded, and following the twisting current of the reddish Aether-Ink along the curves and lines of each interlocked symbol. Each intersection had a context and meaning that needed to be responded to, and the current often was not meant to continue straight through, but rather to turn sharply. The trick was knowing which, while controlling the supply of flowing energy without losing momentum and short circuiting—an outcome that led to a very unpleasant backlash and resultant headache.

But tonight, on his third attempt, he made it to the last turn, and drove the Qi home into the activation matrix. The paper lit up like a tiny blue-white sun, blinding him and banishing shadows along the corridor.

“What the bloody fuck are you doing out there?” called a groggy voice from one of the bunk rooms. Ren couldn’t help but smile as the script faded and the talisman crumpled to nothing. He shoved his primer and remaining talismans into his belt pouch and headed to the Pointy End to celebrate.

***

Kalindra had been hesitant to join her friends at the Pointy End at first. It was a brutish place filled with cantankerous, muscle bound men and the occasional woman soldier. Their mouths were foul and they didn’t talk about much more than violence and sex. That was expected in a city that was little more than a military base and home for the merchants who supplied said military.

Those at her table were all children of the aforementioned merchants. Tami and Reshi and little Tullis. They’d finally dragged her here to enjoy the ‘eye candy’ about a week prior, and it was little more than she’d expected.

That was until he entered. A lean man of average height—which is to say a bit short for a fighting man—with close cropped hair and almond shaped eyes. His skin was lighter than a typical Ardinian, more olive than the typical hazelnut. At first it was the enthusiastic greetings from his fellow soldiers that drew her attention, but then he sat on a stool and pulled out a flute.

That was when the magic started, and suddenly she was glad she came out tonight.

“Hello?” Reshi’s voice cut into her trance. “Are. You. Listening. Kaleelee?”

Kalindra shook herself. “Oh, sorry, what were you saying?”

“No, never mind that.” Tami donned a wicked grin. “Looks like our chaste little princess finally has her eye on someone.”

They all followed her gaze to the performer as one of his friends brought him a drink and he tilted the bowl back before diving into another song.

“Oh,” said Reshi, “is he a foreigner? Empyrean maybe? Not my type.”

Kalindra blushed. “It’s not like that, I like his music is all. Do none of you appreciate art?” She looked around for support. “Besides, I’m not chaste. I just don’t like soldiers. I don’t want to spend my time listening to a man drone on about his sword, and I don’t like the idea of blood soaked hands touching me. Give me a doctor or an artist or a scholar any day.”

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“Come on, Kaleelee.” said Tami. “You should know well enough by now that you can’t fool us. I saw naked lust in your eyes.” She glanced at the performer again. “Though I’m with Reshi on this one. I don’t see the appeal.”

“I think he looks nice enough,” chimed little Tullis. “I think you should say hi.”

“Won’t you girls just let me enjoy the music in peace.” Kalindra turned forcefully back to watch the flutist. But she did want to introduce herself. Rattan was so boring compared to the capital, and she could use a diversion, even if it was a soldier. Maybe he was somebody’s son?

Unfortunately, as soon as he left the stool, an army of stumbling idiots surrounded him and by the time the crowd broke up, he was gone.

Since then, she’d come every night and seen him perform a couple times. The other musicians who came weren’t bad, but they just played background music or soldier tunes.

Asking around, revealed that he was in fact nameless. That was an immediate disqualifier. However, for some reason she couldn’t comprehend, she kept finding herself drawn back to the tavern. In spite of her better judgment, she just couldn’t get him out of her mind, so she’d worked up the resolve to introduce herself.

But this was the third night in a row he hadn’t been here. She rose from her table and approached a tall lady-soldier who was standing to leave. The military women, while a crass insult to femininity, were at least less lecherous toward her most of the time.

“Excuse me.”

The lady looked down at her and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Do you know when the flute player will be coming back?”

The woman looked down at her military uniform and back to scowl at Kalindra. “What gave you the impression I work here?”

“Um-” Her words failed her.

“Don’t mind her,” said another soldier from the same table. “She’ll growl, but she don’t bite.” He winked.

The tall lady spun and back-handed the man, sending him toppling from his stool. “What’re you trying to say, shrimp-dick?”

The rest of the table erupted in laughter.

Kalindra steeled her nerves and cleared her throat several times. Loudly. Eventually, the soldiers caught their breath and noticed her still standing there. “Does anyone know where the flute player is?”

“Oh, Ren? He just got deployed.”

***

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry it has taken so long to write. Training has been really hard, and in truth I was ashamed and did not wish to worry you. I was unable to get a position as a medic. I promise I studied a lot. In fact, I’m still studying medicine in my off time since it already came in handy once.

But even though things didn’t work out how I hoped, everything is okay. There is no need to worry. I just finished training as a forester and I’m on my way to my unit. In a way it feels like all of the tribulations and failures up to this point were leading me to this path.

Archery feels natural to me, maybe more natural than anything I’ve learned here, and I enjoy exploring the woods. It’s like I’m an empyrean ranger from the golden era of the Red Dragon Empire. The flora around Rattan is beautiful and strange. Winter blooming flowers are a common occurrence, so even in the grey dead of the cold months it was colorful out here. I want to assure you that foresters are not considered a combat role, so please don’t worry. Plus, my company is just patrolling the roads, so we won’t be anywhere near the battlefront.

I’m now receiving Rank Two pay, which is ten copper dham per day. It is more than enough to cover the overflow living costs the Osirus are charging, but at this rate it would take fourteen years to pay off the loan. Rest assured I’m going to figure something out. Asana and Mako will be free before their coming of age day. I promise.

Give dad my love and ask him if he knows the story of the Hungry Blade? One of the other recruits told me, and it’s a good one.

I’m sorry I haven’t been able to help more up till now, but I will do better.

Love,

Ren

Yumi wiped her eyes dry. It was so good to hear from Ren-ji. Ever since they’d been forced to disown him, an aching void had opened in her gut. It had only torn open wider since Ren enlisted.

He was safe. That was the most important thing.

She looked over to her husband where he sat, his silent smile plastered over his pain as he watched the twins play. Tiber, though pale and gaunt, was still alive—was able to walk again. Ren, their darling son, made that happen.

How could he ever apologize for not doing enough? She wanted to thump him on the head and knock that foolishness out of him, or rather to hold him tight and squeeze the nonsense out. Instead, she just hid her tears.

Ren was safe, but a mother could read between the lines. Perhaps this was doubly true for Yumi with her gift for letters. She could see the emotion, and restraint, the places he held back the truth. It was all in the way the letters curved, in the shift in flow. She didn’t know the specifics, but her son had gone through hell.

If it hadn’t been for the twins, she’d have demanded that he stop. That he live for himself and let his parents pay for their own mistakes. But Ren was a stubborn boy, like his father. And his older brother. He wouldn’t have listened.

She wrestled out a smile and moved to sit beside her husband, laying her hand atop Tiber’s and locking fingers.

“Asana, Mako,” she said, “Ren wrote. Do you want to hear about your brother?”

Mako halted and spun to face Yumi, which left him open to his sister’s attack. She tackled him to the floor. “Ha! I got you!” she cheered, hands high in victorious exultation.

“No fair!” he said. “You cheated. I wasn’t playing anymore.”

Yumi had to suppress a chuckle. Mako would take it personally if he saw.

Asana’s eyes landed on her mother and she tilted her head.

“Mom said Ren wrote, hare brain,” Mako declared.

Yumi’s daughter raised a fist to strike in retaliation, but a sharp look—the kind only a mother could give—froze her and willed her hand back to her side. The little hand unfurled to reveal callouses born from menial labor. “What’d he say momma?” Her eyes wide, so excited she almost looked angry. Darling face pulled taut in the effort to restrain her urge to charge Yumi and steal the letter.

It was terribly tempting to lie to protect one’s child. A quick glance at her husband told her his thoughts on the matter. Their kids were too smart, maybe too jaded, to mistake fairytales as truth.

“Your brother is giving his all for us.” Yumi couldn’t help the tear that trailed her face. “He’s being so brave. Like all heroes, he’s faced hardships and failures, but he kept on going. Can you two follow his example? Find a way to keep going no matter how hard it gets? Live from your hearts?”

Asana’s nod was sure and forceful, the fire in her eyes burning even hotter. Mako nodded too, his expression contemplative. Too thoughtful for his age, perhaps. What mother doesn’t wish for her children to live a life unburdened?

“Okay, I’ll read the letter.” She smiled at her two youngest. So small. So brave. So bright, they shone to her like twin stars.