“Why is gunpowder forbidden in the empire of the Imperatrix, and why was it banned from military usage?” Read Sage-Brother Berth out loud. “I must say, your answers have for the most been…disappointing.”

There was an uncomfortable silence in the classroom.

“Do not worry. It is perfectly understandable that the subject of miracles is complicated to you, after all, it is a hard concept even for the High-Priests to grasp. But let us take example from the best answers that have been given. Maybe your classmates’ explanations will be more enlightening.

He interrupted his speech to put his small reading glasses back on, cleared his throat, then began.

“ –…Besides its inherent hazardousness, gunpowder is excessively sensitive to the God-Touched. Even without any training whatsoever, all are capable, with only a fraction of their power, to destroy all types of explosive powders. Its usage in times of war is, as such, unthinkable… – This is a quote directly out of the book of the High Priest of Ja, Garritard the Illuminated. It is a perfect answer from you, Veridienne. – …All types of magic react to gunpowder. It is a bomb that explodes under the will of your enemies, or over the incompetence of your allies. Its smuggling or trading is madness, its usage: suicide... – A very good answer from you Trinne, maybe even more clear-cut than what Miss Amber wrote, but you should have talked about miracles, not magic. The latter being unscientific, after all.

Lesson from Sage-Brother Berth

“Ein Mage?” Nay asked.

The colossus looked at her apprehensively. “This be Imperial word, you understand.”

Nay nodded: Mage, magician, God-Touched. What she was. She sighed; the duel had not gone as she wanted it to go.

She hoped that the two Carradins would keep their word.

“As you were unconscious, I shall tell you the rules of the Kracht. He lost, so you two must go back to Carradinoris and disband your group of bandits.

The one called Suermi got back on his feet, with difficulty, stumbling around as if he had drunk a beer too much. “Disband. Not understand.”

One of the other bandits sighed: “I’ll explain it to you, but basically, our days together are over.”

The four Hymerians did not look particularly bothered by this news, more likely, this was just a job like any other to them.

It took them less than five minutes to leave and vanish in the relative darkness of the starry night.

Nay went back to where she had left her backpack, further down the road, then came back to sit at the side of the unconscious teenager. The bandits had just dropped his belongings on him. She took the few spare clothing scattered there and put them back in his travel bag. She let her fingers hover over the book he had so vehemently tried to defend. Its cover was simple, of the same colour as his robes. She opened it and browsed the pages inside. They were covered in unintelligible inscriptions and symbols, from the first to the last page. Fifty years ago, such a book would have cost a small fortune, whatever was written inside, but now that the printing machines had been invented, the price of such a book was much lower. So much so that Nay could read them regularly, and even buy some. She was not into literature as much as Fredere, but it had been one of her hobbies at the Soi. Karmena had a large collection of stories.

Her attention went back to the book in her hands. It had a Rreico, unreadable as well. This was more than unusual. An object with a rhythm of life? The inscriptions made no sense, but Nay could feel that they had some meaning.

She decided she would not elucidate this mystery now and put the item back in the boy’s bag. She examined him in more detail. His green robe was the same type as the one the Sage-Brother Berth wore, but that was not surprising, all priests of the Empire, whatever god they prayed for, wore the same kind. They only changed in colour and embellishments. Still, it was the first time she saw the colour green on the garment. If he was a Truth-Teller, as she thought, green had to be the colour representing them. The boy, if he really was one, was so effeminate it seemed almost unnatural. Maybe it was a girl, but the bandits had hit her head too hard?

In any case, Nay could not leave him on the side of the road like that, so she put him on her shoulders like a Tergee apple bag and picked up his belongings with her remaining hand.

She found refuge under a thicket of trees six hundred feet away from the road. She put him on a bed of leaves and lit up a fire. Moments later, suicidals appeared. The insect had inherited its name from its quite gruesome habit to jump in open flames, or inside the boiling pot you were cooking in. They had a very bitter taste that Nay hated. She grunted in disgust as she saw the insects fly to their demise. She made herself another bed of leaves and closed her eyes.

The sun was high in the sky when she woke up. Her young neighbour was still unconscious, and for a moment, she worried if he was still alive. She checked on him, but his breath was steady and deep. He seemed quite sickly though, the hit on his head probably giving him a serious concussion. If he did not wake up soon, Nay would have to make a decision. She could not take care of him for weeks; she had a master Legio to find.

She scratched her head, then rekindled the fire and started cooking. The bunnit she had gutted and skinned the day before would not be edible much longer, so she salted it, put it on the side, then put her only pan on the fire. It was not hot enough to cook anything.

She went to look for more wood, but instead of that, found a beautiful spiky tree. Their insides were always gorged with water, and Nay filled her almost empty flask.

She came back to the camp with only branches, but it was enough. The pan had already heated up quite a bit during her absence, and she started her work. The newfound water helped her make a sauce, the meat was tender, and the smell was quite nice.

The boy woke.

“I haven’t smelled something so good for at least two years.” Were his first words.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Nay, on the verge of biting into the meat, sighed. She had just lost half her meal.

“I don’t have extra plates. Eat in the pan.”

“Could I have some water first?”

She held her flask over to him.

He drank and drank some more. She grimaced, the spiked tree was empty, she would not be able to refill her bottle again.

He gave it back, half-empty, and started eating.

After a few minutes, Nay broke the sound of chewing to ask him a question.

“Aren’t you worried about your book? You seemed quite concerned about it last night, or should I say early this morning. It felt like you valued it more than your own life. And now, you ask for water and eat without a worry in the world.”

The boy gave her an angry stare. With his face, it unfortunately just made him cuter.

“It has no value anymore. Because of you.” He continued eating.

Nay felt her jaw clench at his brazen tone.

“Could you be more disrespectful towards the person who saved you?” She asked sarcastically.

He did not answer.

She sighed again.

“Could you at least explain what I did wrong?”

The teenager did not say anything for a few minutes, his face showing uncertainty, as he finished his meal.

Nay let him think in peace, herself eating the last piece of her bunnit.

“You undid the Truth given to me.” He finally said.

“You’ll have to be slightly more precise than that.”

The boy grumbled, but explained himself, nonetheless.

“All apprentice Tellers receive a book of Truths from their masters. It is an immeasurable gift, letting the apprentices learn the gift of Truths while at the same time giving them the opportunity to make a living for themselves. Very rarely though, once every ten or so years, a Truth is changed, which transforms a written Truth into a written false Truth. He gave me so much, and now, when I’ll give him back his book, I’ll tarnish his whole reputation. Master Yglasion, Teller of false Truths. The Imperatrix herself had called for his services! And that is how I thank him, because of a woman playing hero. By the way, what happened? Did you kill them?”

Nay shook her head. “No, the Carradins are supposed to go back to their homes.”

“By Jormun, not one false Truth…TWO?! I hate you.” He sprawled on the ground, looking dejected.

Nay waited a bit before talking again.

“Your master, erm, Yg…erm..”

“Yglasion.”

“There. Don’t you think he’ll be happy to know you’re not dead?”

It was the boy’s turn to sigh.

“I think he will. He was crying when he gave me my book. Its the thinnest book of Truths in almost a century.”

“Which means?”

“That I was going to die before becoming a real Teller. You need at least three hundred, two hundred pages for the more talented. Each page represents a question asked to the apprentice. If, like me, there are only fifty-three questions, it means something will happen before I finish my apprenticeship.”

“All right…I think. So, you can read the symbols in your book?”

He nodded. “I am the only one able to, the book is linked to me.”

Hence the weird Rreico, this book had some miracle properties. That mystery had not been long to uncover.

“What are you going to do now?”

“No idea, I’m supposed to be dead, can’t live as a Teller anymore, I’ve finished my book as of yesterday. I am out of Truths to give. With a bit of luck, I’ll become a fully fledged Truth-Teller in ten years or so, but I don’t have enough money to live until then.”

“So, if I ask you a question, you won’t be able to answer me.”

The boy gave out a mocking giggle.

“Looking at your clothes, you’d never be able to afford a question.”

Nay let the insult slip past her, considering his apparent age, she felt no need to formalise.

“But even if I had the gold, you’d have no Truths to give me.”

He hesitated before answering honestly: “That is correct.”

Silence.

“Anyway, what were you doing here in the first place?” Nay finally asked.

“I was looking for Sage Jormun, first of the Tellers. He is supposedly living as a hermit more south from here.”

“Jormun? Like the god?”

“It is the title given to the most powerful Teller. I was hoping he’d help me, that he could give me extra Truths somehow.”

“I see. Well, sorry for ruining your book, but I am not sorry for saving your life.”

Once more, the sound of Frigelles was the only thing disturbing the pause in the conversation.

“My name is Carle.” The boy announced.

“Nay.”

“Funny name.”

She grinned.

“Coming from the one looking like a girl and having a girl’s name, I think you’re in no position to mock me. If you’re a boy as you shouted so vehemently.”

“Yes, I am a boy. And it’s a masculine name in Leïn!”

“And in Gite, it’s a feminine one.”

“Can’t do anything about that. And can’t do anything about my appearance either. I’m sick, I’ll always look like this.”

Nay gave him a questioning look.

“Why should I tell you?” He asked aggressively.

“It did not seem to bother you before, you already told me all about yourself, why stop now?”

His eyes widened, and he started laughing softly.

“You’re a funny one, I’ll give you that…well, why not after all. I’m supposed to be dead, and I do owe you.” He sat back down, taking a comfortable position in his make-shift bed. A leaf was stuck in his brown-cream coloured hair. “It was one of the three questions I asked my Master. Why do I look like a girl? As he does not understand medicine, he could not explain it to me in detail, but basically, I was born male, but my body thinks I need to grow up like a female. I then asked if I ever could be cured. The response was clear.”

“Oh…I’m sorry.”

“No need, it was two years ago, I got used to it. And, well, lots of women like it, so I’m not completely at a loss here.” He looked at nothing, as if trying to convince himself of what he was saying more than anyone else.

She did not add anything and just handed him her bottle.

“Could you drink sparingly this time, finding water here isn’t simple.”

He nodded, took one gulp, and gave it back to her.

“What about you?” He asked. “What are you doing around here except getting rid of the local bandits?”

Nay amused herself with just telling him the truth.

“I flee an Angel and every Virnyl guard in Gite.”

“Good one. You don’t need to lie you know; you can just not answer.”

“I’m looking for an old master named Vestigio, he lives close to Makaka.”

“Why?”

“He’s an arms master, I need his teachings.”

Carle’s face lit up. “That’s why you managed to beat the bandits, and why you came to save me! You’re a wandering knight!”

Nay smiled. To her knowledge, wandering knights were fairy tales, a word used to regroup what heroic things different adventurers did. Bards listened to the tales, and grouped them under the name of one hero, also called a wandering knight.

If the boy used that word, it meant he had read too many of Fredere’s favourite stories.

“Not exactly, but let’s say close enough.” She admitted.

Carle’s eyes shined brightly like those of a kid. “Oooh, tell me of your feats!”

Nay laughed warmly. “Unfortunately, kid, you’re my first for now.”

His excitement visibly quelled. “Oh, too bad. And I am not a kid, I’m almost thirteen, call me Carle.”

“Sorry Carle. On a more serious note, what am I going to do with you?”

The boy scratched the back of his head. “Well, as we’re going in the same direction, I hoped I could join you. You saved me, I’m your responsibility now.”

Nay could not believe her ears. “That is such a Trinne thing to say.”

“Trinne?”

“A friend of mine, much more tolerable when she doesn’t speak.”

“That’s funny, it’s the same name as Gite’s Duke’s daughter.”

Nay refrained a grimace.

“How do you, by Lebe, know the Duke’s daughter’s name? You went there before?”

“No, no. As Tellers we are amongst the best educated in the Empire, and knowing about all the rich and powerful families is essential. They are our predominant clients after all.” He changed subjects. “Shouldn’t we get on the road?”

Nay looked at the sky. The sun was still too high up.

“No, we’ll travel at night.”

Carle smiled. “So, you will take me with you!”

Nay squeezed the bridge of her nose as she sighed. “Sure…”

“Perfect! What do we do in the meantime?”

“You tell me stories about the Tellers, and why some say that you are always given between one or three questions, whoever you are, while you say you need to pay for it.”

“Because Tellers are divided into two categories. The majority, which I’m from, sells its services to the highest bidder, a minority though, never leaves the life on the road and offers Truths to those who dare ask. They are very, very few, you basically have no chance of ever meeting one, and honestly, they are all creeps only answering in the most cryptic way possible.” After his explanation, the young boy completely changed subjects. “Do you play Comptoy?”

“Erm yes…but right now I’m going to train…” She looked at him, his boiling Rreico reminded her of her little sister. She felt her heart crack but continued with a smile: “…as I feel I won’t have the opportunity to fall back asleep if I stay here.”