Bully died during the final moments of the assault.

He was torn to pieces, strips of flesh hanging off him, entrails in the dirt, one of his own horns ripped off and stabbed in his flank. He slew countless voranders, probably more than some of the guards managed to. He was an ideal tamed animal, just calmly staying in the background until it was time for combat. He was probably the first being here that I could be truly unguarded with.

And now, that being was gone forever.

Elius, even exhausted and ready to move on, offered to have a small funeral ceremony for him before the corpses were burned, but I declined. There was nothing that needed to be said.

In the end, I only knew him a few days, and he served his initial purpose: he protected me as long as he could. I didn’t want the men to see possible tears and give them more reasons to call me a kid.

Thankfully, I finally found an answer to one of my questions. People here burned the bodies of anything that died so they didn’t attract those damned voranders, or any other wandering predators. Roasting something from a successful hunt was only done behind city walls, where the smell couldn’t spread and attract other wildlife. It seemed like hard rations prepared beforehand were the best the guards could eat while on the road.

The rain slowed down a few hours after the battle ended. The bodies were burned as soon as the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, but the men took care to keep Bully’s corpse away from the voranders. I appreciated the gesture.

Miraculously, none of the guards or merchants died. Even the rhaajes were alive and kicking, well enough to pull the wagons despite some flesh wounds they had sustained, which were promptly treated. More than half of the goods being transported were crushed, covered in blood or guts, or rendered unusable during the fight, but everyone felt it was a small price to pay for living.

The rest of the trip to the city was solemn. Nobody spoke too often or too loudly, there were no more encounters of any kind, and even the local wildlife seemed to be subdued. What should have been a cheerful and joyous return to civilization was a gloomy and dull affair, the mood of the group at odds with the tranquility of the atmosphere.

Some people were coming to terms with how close they had come to dying, while others were happy to be alive and simultaneously mindful of trying not to annoy the more introspective of the group with their unwelcome cheer. The wounded were healed as much as the limited supplies allowed, and I was fortunate enough to be among that number, as I had some herbal ointment dabbed onto my various cuts and bite marks. It stung at first, a bit like isopropyl alcohol, but gave off a cooling feeling as time passed.

Close to mid-afternoon, we finally entered the city that was our destination. The walls of Khobadaar were amazing, a light blue color reflecting the day’s now cloudless sky. Each brick was the height of a man, and standing at its base near one of the city’s gates, I couldn’t see the top of the wall even after craning my neck as far back as I could.

We were let in without any fuss, no entry tax or ‘voluntary’ donation collected by the gatekeepers. It was here I decided to split from the rest of the group.

I thanked them for everything they did. I even tried to repay the cost of the shortsword I borrowed that got corroded somehow by that vorander. Elius waved it off, saying I needed the coin more than they did.

I thanked them once again, waved goodbye, then left, alone again. I wasn’t in the right headspace to take in the sights and sounds of a fantasy city, so I decided to just get some rest first before deciding on a course of action.

I approached one of the city guards (conveniently armed with a baton and a gleaming metallic chest plate the same shade of blue as the city walls) and asked for directions to the cheapest inn. He pointed out a building standing in the shadow of the wall, the gate I came through within sight of it.

The hanging wooden sign over the building’s entrance had a helpful illustration of an overflowing mug atop a side profile of a bed. I couldn’t read the words underneath, which made my already gloomy mood even worse, but they did appear to be printed somewhat neatly, implying a certain amount of care and wealth on the part of the owner.

Heading inside, the interior of the building seemed to match the exterior. Everything was made of wood: the doors, walls, floorboards and ceiling, the chairs and tables. Even the cutlery was wooden, which shouldn’t have surprised me but did. There was something like a bar at the back, with doors on either side, possibly leading to a kitchen or back room. On the right side was a simple-looking staircase, leading up. Judging from the outside, the inn had two floors above this one.

I made my way to the left wall, where a homely looking middle-aged woman was writing in a rather large book behind a… wooden countertop. The scratching of the quill on paper mixed with the fact that someone was using a quill to write made me pause for a moment before I got my bearings and came up to her.

“Hi, um, do you work here?” I asked glumly.

Cut me some slack. I was in a different world, and operating on different societal norms. And I was just a wee bit traumatized from the events of a few hours prior.

A slight chuckle and a shake of the head was what she responded with. “Of course, child. Do you imagine many women my age have enough free time to sit in an inn at midday?”

“I’ve never really thought about it. And honestly, I don’t really care that much.” I replied halfheartedly.

She paused in her scratching, looking up at me for the first time. It felt like she was appraising me, searching for something. I couldn’t tell whether she found it or not as her face went neutral and she said in a businesslike manner, “Rooms are 12 squares a week, 8 for academy students, 10 for graduates. You get 3 meals a day, morning, noon, and night. Tea and juice are free in the mornings and on weekends. Do not tip the staff, including me. I’m serious on that last point. Now, what’ll it be, child?”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Her emphasis on that last word was…forceful. Authoritative. Like a mother who didn’t care that her child had been bullied at school, as long as he showed the proper respect at home. This was someone who revered discipline, and someone I definitely did not want to anger, purposefully or otherwise.

While I figured she probably knew something about the academy, and I did need more info on it, I didn’t think I was in the right state of mind for that conversation. I swallowed and licked my lips, more nervous than before, as I answered.

“Put me down for 2 weeks for now, please.” I slid a triangle from my coin pouch onto…. next to…her book. She made a note in the giant book she had been writing in previously, in what I guessed was a guest ledger, then asked, “Name of occupant?”

I sighed, already expecting the smirk or laugh, as I stated, “Rhaaj.”

She just shook her head again as she continued to scribble on her book. “Your mother never gave you a chance, did she? Head up the stairs, top floor, fourth door on the right. Welcome to the Three Tea Trees Inn. Enjoy your stay.” She slid my change along with a wooden room key across the desk, then politely smiled at me.

I’d spoken to enough women in my life to recognize dismissal. I grabbed the key and coins, heading up the stairs. I found my room and unlocked it, dropping my rucksack on the floor. I took off my shoes and the dirty robe that was somehow still mostly intact, then closed the door and fell onto the bed, mentally tired and wanting to sleep, despite the time.

But sleep eluded me. Because I had been feeling a strange sensation lately; its presence was simultaneously concerning and confusing. Something that felt very familiar yet foreign.

A tamer link.

And there was only one thing I could think of that I used the taming spell on recently.

Okay, calm down. It’s probably not as bad as you think. It’s literally under control, so nothing should go wrong… right? Then again, the last time I thought nothing could go wrong, someone died.

Smacking my face hard with both hands multiple times, I tried to ignore that line of thinking.

Focus. Okay, just…try it once. Just one time and then you can sleep. Lord knows I won’t sleep if I don’t at least try to answer this question.

With reluctance and a very small amount of effort, I pulled on the link, expending some essence to widen the connection.

And something responded.

In front of me, popping out of thin air, was the goblin-esque vorander that I legitimately believed would kill me a few hours ago. It looked just as I remembered it.

Only, it was kneeling, on both knees. Its arms were extended flat on the ground, its head touching the floor in what looked to me like the kowtowing position. But what I immediately noticed was its behavior: it was silent and unmoving. Through the link, I could feel its intent. What I felt made me more skeptical of their description as mindless savages.

It was awaiting my order, and it wouldn’t move until I explicitly told it to.

I couldn’t handle it. I retracted the essence keeping the link active, and just as it did before, the vorander disappeared. I really wanted to scream in frustration, but remembered my surroundings and did my level best to suppress any impulse to shout aloud. My fists were clenched, and I was gritting my teeth. I couldn’t understand.

Where did it come from? Is it the same place it went back to or somewhere different? What is causing this? Is it me? The spell itself? The vorander? Khime’s technique never said anything about the beasts it tamed disappearing. He went on and on about the dangers voranders presented to all life, and I don’t think he would do that if he himself had a technique capable of taming, and thus controlling, them. Even now, I can still feel the link to that thing. It’s still in that position, waiting for me to tell it to do something.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I gave in to my impulse. I grabbed the pillow on the bed and covered my face with it, screaming into it, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH BEFORE I SHUT IT FOR YOU!” The voice coming from the room next door was just as louder as Elius’, if not greater. The voice went silent after I stopped my muffled scream. Apparently, the cheapest inn near the gate had a reputation for peace and quiet that I had unknowingly disrupted.

I tried to calm down, turning to an exercise I hadn’t done in a long time: meditation. My parents were avid proponents of basically anything Indian in origin, extolling the culture to a degree of fanaticism. They acted as most fanatics did, highlighting and emphasizing the positives while downplaying or outright denying the negative consequences. Yoga and meditation were at the top of that list. The endless immersion and downright reverence I was expected to show in ‘my culture’ became grating at times, and eventually, I just stopped doing anything related to it altogether.

But I needed to calm down, and this was the quickest way I knew of.

I sat on the floor, as the bed was just a tad too lumpy for me, with my legs crossed and my hands loosely resting on my knees, palms up.

Ugh, the lotus position, how long had it been since I did this, and I can still recall everything.

Focus.

I closed my eyes and started to breathe in through my nose. What I smelled was terrible, and I immediately vowed to take a bath as soon as possible.

Gathering my focus again, I breathed properly. A deep inhale through the nose, holding it for one second, then a slow, controlled exhale through the mouth. Deep inhale in, hold, slow exhale out. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. Keep your focus on the idea of nothing. Lose yourself in it. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. Breathe in, –

I honestly can’t tell if this world likes me or not.

My breathing exercise was interrupted when I felt essence flow into me, keeping pace with my breathing. A thin layer was surrounding me when I inhaled, it would enter my body somehow when I held my breath, and exhaling sort of integrated the fresh essence into my being, somehow merging with the essence already inside me.

I felt numb. Not in a pins and needles, my foot fell asleep, kind of numb. More like the shock of endless revelations was gradually having less of an impact. I was building a tolerance for it, I guess, was the most accurate way to describe it.

I knew I was…uninformed… about nearly everything in this world. Continuing my path like this, aware of my deficiency, would likely put me in a bad spot sooner rather than later. Above all, I was trying not to stick out, and those efforts had failed monumentally. I needed to know what I didn’t know.

And so I would take the advice of Khime, who did fill me in on what could be the utter basics of this world. It was annoying how vague he had been about it. But I would follow through nonetheless, regardless of my past experiences with academia.

I was going to join the academy. Or if there were multiple, whichever academy was closest. Whatever, I knew what I meant. I was going back to school, as unappealing as that sentence sounded.