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9. Initiation

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Aveline said.

Lyam shook his head. “Don't be.” He finished the rest of his porridge and set the bowl down. “Father believed in what he was fighting for. He always said it was a proper death to die fighting for what you believe in. It's almost as if he manifested that death for himself.” He scoffed and got up from the table, taking the dirty dishes to the tub in the back and washed them before Aveline could ask him to.

She called for him when he came back into the cottage after finishing the chore. She was in the sitting room, in middle of wearing her cloak again.

“Yes?” Lyam asked.

“We are heading out.”

The boy frowned. “Where?”

“Shopping.”

“This late?”

Aveline grinned. “It's the perfect time.” She held out her hand in which she had the crimson amulet. “Let's go.”

###

When the red mist disappeared, Lyam found himself standing on a cobblestone floor. The walls were bare concrete. The roof was rippled with stalactites. And right in front of him was a heavy iron door with a thick iron bar holding it closed.

Aveline stepped forth and lifted the bar with surprising ease. She pushed the door open and walked right through. Lyam followed her. On the other side of the door was nothing but a platform just big enough for the two of them to walk on. And beyond the platform was nothing but a plunging abyss. Dozens of small orbs of light, similar to Aveline’s spirit barriers, floated in the air, lighting the whole place.

Lyam looked down and he couldn't see a base at all. Just darkness that went on forever. Aveline started walking down the stairs. The boy followed close after her.

The stairway was a big spiral that hugged the walls of the pit that they were in. Lyam kept his hand on the wall and took each step carefully. “What even is this place?” he asked.

“Norben's Crater,” Aveline said, grinning. “This is where I come to buy all my goods.”

“What can you even buy in here?”

“Anything for the right price.” She kept grinning as they came to a halt on a certain flight of stairs. She opened another metal door similar to the one they had walked though earlier.

The view beyond this door was a lot less frightening for Lyam. It seemed to be a market street with stalls flanking either side of the road. The place was rather dimly lit and awfully quiet for a market, despite how busy it was. And the wares on sale made him pause. One stall was selling what seemed to be hides of dust mutants, another sold knives and daggers made out of their claws and tusks and horns. There was a stall for potions made from mutant blood and other questionable body fluids. Deals were made in hushed whispers, goods were carried away concealed under cloaks. Everyone walked with their heads down, eyes gazing at the floor.

Lyam stuck close to Aveline as they made their way down the aisle. “This place…they sell…”

“Everything that can't be sold in Brismont.” Aveline nodded. “Everything that the Crown's law forbids, you can find it here for a price.”

“Where even is this place?”

“No one knows.”

“What do you mean? How did you bring us here then?”

“I knew someone who brought me here first a few years ago,” Aveline said. “This is where I bought this amulet.” She jangled the crimson ruby at him. “The location of the place is embedded in the ruby. It's only the amulet that knows where this place is. The only guess I can make is we are somewhere underground.”

Lyam let that information sink in. As they kept walking deeper into the market, he felt a strange chill down his spine. The kind of feeling one got when they were being watched by a dozen eyes.

The boy felt the vendors’ attention on him, their gazes prodding him intently. The boy instinctively moved closer to Aveline. “Why is everyone looking at me like that?” he whispered to her.

“Your clothes,” she said.

Lyam looked down at his tattered shirt that was riddled with holes and his half burnt britches.

“Everyone probably thinks I brought you here to sell you off as a slave.”

“Have you?!”

“Of course not! Do I look like I sell children?”

“I wouldn't be able to tell. Mamie Alda always said that I mistake everyone for a good person,” Lyam said.

Aveline groaned. “I don't sell children, Lyam! I told you, we are here to buy things. First on my list are a good set of clothes for you.”

She led him into a big tent in a dark nook of the marketplace. When they exited the tent, Lyam was dressed in a fresh cotton shirt, dark trousers and a velvet coat. She had even got him a new pair of boots and two more sets of clothes in a canvas bag. Aveline paid for everything with copper pieces shaped like scarab beetles. Lyam had never seen such currency used in Brismont.

He brushed down the lapels of his coat, feeling like a young noble in his new attire. Lyam felt himself smile softly. After a moment he realized this was the first time in the past few days that he felt this pleasant. The next moment, he almost felt guilty for feeling that when he remembered Emma's sleeping form. The smile soon disappeared.

“Don't you like the clothes?” Aveline asked.

“No, I do. They are really comfortable,” he said, frowning. “I just…felt really pathetic for a moment.”

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Aveline raised an eyebrow. “Why is that?”

“My sister is dying and I don't know if my grandmother is alive. Yet all it took to make me smile was a new set of clothes.” The boy scoffed.

“It's okay to smile, Lyam. Dare I say, sometimes it's even necessary.”

“Right now it's only painful for me.” Lyam shook his head. “I can't let myself forget what my family is going through right now. Not even for the moment when I let myself smile.”

Aveline just quietly observed the boy and then shrugged. “Have it your way then.”

Lyam nodded with a solemn look of gratitude. The two of them started walking down the market again. His eyes lingered on a shop with a set of breastplates hanging on display. Something was peculiar about the way its metal glinted in the dimness.

“Aveline?”

“I'm listening.”

“Did you only bring me here to buy me new clothes?”

Aveline didn't answer his question. Instead she said, “Since you keep thinking about your sister's plight have you considered how you are going to free her from the limbo?” She looked at him over her shoulder. “Especially now that you are a wielder.”

Lyam scrunched his forehead. “H-How would I–”

“You killed that wraith wolf and harvested its dust. Your sister will survive maybe three more days. How many more such mutants do you think you'll have to kill? Do you think it'll ever end?”

Lyam was frowning deeply now. “What are you implying?”

Aveline didn't answer. She led him deeper down the street until they arrived at a cavernous hallway with a similarly rippled roof that had been at the main entrance. More floating orbs lit their way as they kept walking. When they came to a halt, Lyam found himself in front of a bright red door stamped with blinding golden letters that read: NORBEN'S PLAYGROUND.

Two men, one short and other tall, stood guard at the door. Both of them had tall wooden staffs in hand that had crescent metal blades on their ends.

Aveline handed the short guard four copper scarabs. The tall guard pressed his crescent blade against a mark on the red door. Hinges turned, metal groaned. The door opened. Aveline and Lyam walked inside.

They made their way down a path that Lyam could tell was covered by carpet but he couldn't see much. He pinched at a corner of Aveline's satchel and followed her. She seemed to know where to go in the darkness.

He made out a vague shape of wooden steps that they climbed and walked through a narrow aisle of what Lyam thought were long, curving benches. They had to be benches, there were people sitting on them.

Quiet voices whispered around him as he followed Aveline.

“It's going to begin.”

“I hope it is fun.”

“I hope someone dies tonight.”

“I would love to see someone die too.”

Lyam felt Aveline come to a halt and take a seat on the bench. He was about to sit next to her when the lights came on, exploding into his vision, almost blinding him.

The boy was still grimacing at the brightness when a loud, thunderous voice echoed around.

“Welcome, all the gentle dwellers and the humble servants of the Crater. I hope the week's drudgery didn't grate at your soul too harshly. It's no matter even if it did. Because now it's time to wash away the somber grimness that weighs heavy on each of you. I welcome you to the Duel of Bastards!”

Lyam's eyes were still adjusting to the sudden surge of light but he didn't care. He was stunned by what he had just heard. That voice that had just made the announcement–it sounded very close to the voice that had spoken in his head during his merge.

After his eyes finally adapted to the bright lighting, the first thing he took in was at least a hundred people cheering and applauding as two men entered what seemed to be an arena.

Both of them were adults but one of them was just a head taller than Lyam. The other fighter was built like a mountain, towering over his shorter opponent by several feet. The gong for the fight went off. The tall man charged ahead, bare hands forming fists, ready to flatten whatever they struck. His opponent did what any other man of his size would've done in the situation. He backtracked, keeping his eyes on the giant that was closing in on him.

The crowd was already going crazy.

What is even the point? Lyam thought. The verdict of the duel was already clear. Sooner or later the big man was going to catch up to the other fighter. And looking at the way the big man kept growling and charging, it was no surprise the conclusion to the match wasn't going to be a pretty one either.

The short man kept trying to evade his opponent. Each time he stumbled, the cheers turned louder, more thunderous. Lyam found it hard to hear his own thoughts whenever that happened. But from what he saw, he wasn't even sure if the smaller guy had even been in a fight before. On the other hand, the bigger man was a lot more nimble and agile. As if strength and size wasn't already an advantage to him.

The rest of the duel was a blur. The result was obvious, inevitable. The small guy tripped before he could find an opening to react. The big man took his chance, grasping his opponent's head in his big hand like a walnut. Thick fingers clenched around his skull like a vice.

Lyam flinched and looked away.

“And the winner is Big Paul!”

The crowd was going berserk. When Lyam looked again, he saw the blood on the arena floor, saw the small man's body lying limp as a ragdoll. His stomach turned. He tugged onto Aveline's sleeve. He gestured to the exit.

She nodded and the two of them walked out.

The crimson amulet teleported them back to the cottage. Lyam's breath was unsteady and his face was pale. Aveline just watched the boy as he leaned against the wall, just to keep standing.

“Still averse to smiling now?” she said.

Lyam looked at her, incredulous. “Wait…you really just showed me a man getting murdered…to teach that lesson? Just because of something I said?”

“Yes,” Aveline said, her words devoid of any hesitation. “You think always frowning at the world is going to make you stronger? You think you can keep clinging onto the hope of saving your sister by brooding all the time.”

Lyam stared at the shapecrafter. Her eyes were ablaze with anger. The intensity of her words made her seem like she was just short of seizing him by his shoulders and shaking him briskly, as if to awake him from a dream.

“The path you've chosen is laden with danger and hardships. Denying yourself every moment of happiness along the way is condemning yourself to a life of misery. Is that a life you want for yourself?” she said.

Lyam was quiet. He couldn't think of an answer he could give her without his argument sounding empty.

Aveline glared at him now. “If you can't let yourself smile for a moment then you might as well let your sister die right now,” she said, “you'll have a lifetime to cry and brood over it then.”

The boy clenched his jaw. He seethed with anger but he also found it hard to disagree with her. In the end, he let out a quiet breath and regarded her more calmly. “I'm sorry, I just felt guilty for…being happy at such a time.”

Aveline's gaze softened. She bent to his level, the anger on her face now replaced with a look of sympathy. “It's completely natural to feel sad when those that we care for are in pain. But making yourself deliberately sad isn't going to cure your problems. If anything, the gloom will only make it harder for you to see where you are headed.”

Lyam nodded sincerely. “I understand. I wouldn't do that again.”

“You better not.” She stood straighter. “However, I didn't take you to Norben's playground just for the sake of giving you that lesson. I also wanted to show you what you are up against.”

The boy frowned. “What?”

With the shadow of a grin playing at her lips, she said, “You are going to be fighting in that arena.”