…Sharthu could never tame me!...

…N'tdaea brought his legions against me!...

The heavens were torn asunder!

The sea split in two!

Alas!

They are nowhere to be found!

For I alone stand victorious!

I,

Alvric!

“Listen Hedon, they shouldn't have to pay for my mista—”

Blood sprayed out of Doti’s neck as Hedon severed his head.

Jerome woke up with a start breathing hard. He quickly initiated the breathing technique Layla taught him. It wouldn’t take him into a trance, but it helped calm his nerves.

He’d been having this nightmare for a while now, and anger and frustration came along with it, souring his day. He washed in a bowl of water he had prepared the night before and got ready for the day’s training.

~~~

“He’s one determined child, isn’t he?”

“Hmm,” Rihal answered. “Why are you here, Idrel?”

Idrel Vorthe chuckled. “Came to see what all the fuss was about.”

Rihal looked at him from the side, “If that’s all, then you can leave.”

“Am I not welcome?” Idrel said, his voice slow as if he purred like a cat.

“You’re not,” Rihal replied.

“Why so cold?” Idrel said and laughed coldly.

Rihal didn’t bother answering. Idrel was a conniving viper and always had some trickery up his sleeves. He couldn't even get rid of Idrel if he wanted to since they both were Spirit Realm artists and under the tutelage of Damien Vorthe.

Idrel chuckled again as he watched Jerome from a distance trudge up a mountain, pulling heavy logs of wood with him. Rihal was disgusted with him. The man took pleasure in other people’s sufferings.

“So, this is your disciple who’ll be joining the Royal Sprouts to Terra Praeta, huh?” he purred. “Nothing much about him.”

If only you knew who he is…what he is, Rihal thought to himself but ignored Idrel. That voice was beginning to grate on his nerves but he held back from punching the mouth that spoke with it.

“They’re not happy that a cripple is joining them.”

“Is that so?”

Idrel looked at Rihal for a moment.

“I know he’s your student and all, but he doesn't have Royal blood,” Idrel paused to let that sink in. “And neither is he highborn so, how did you get him on the list in the first place?”

Rumors were that Idrel was once in the presence of the Sovereign, and ever since then, he had taken to talking slowly, being more reserved with his words.

“You love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?”

Idrel was a little displeased at that. The kid was clearly Rihal’s disciple. Though he was an elite among elites and had achieved what no one ever had, he was still not qualified to enter Terra Praeta.

“If that’s what you wanted to know all along, you should have led with it. Could have saved yourself all the trouble, don’t you think?” Rihal looked at him and smirked.

“So?” Idrel asked.

“What?” Rihal asked back.

“How did you get him on the list?” Idrel asked.

“Hmm,” Rihal breathed out with a sigh and a contemplating look on his face.

Idrel almost spat at him. If he didn’t know what Rihal was doing, he had been training in vain all his life. Rihal on the other hand was enjoying the moment.

So this is how it feels to possess knowledge others want, he thought to himself.

“Are you well, Idrel?”

“Hmm.”

“It’s just, you’re turning beet red.”

Idrel looked at Rihal with eyes burning with fury, his face transformed by his anger as his facial muscles twitched. Every disciple of Damien Vorthe was taught the value of patience. They had to go through a lot to learn patience, which was a continual learning process. Idrel knew this and so did Rihal.

He quickly cycled to calm his nerves. “If you’re not going to tell me, then fine. But your disciple...tsk, tsk, tsk,” he shook his head with mock pity.

But Rihal didn’t react to that, which surprised Idrel a little. Rihal had always been the most emotional among Damien Vorthe’s disciples, so it stood to reason that he should show some reaction.

Maybe the kid has something to rely on besides Adama’s gauntlets, Idrel thought. No. What else could he have picked up in that barren land? He chortled. I’m just being paranoid. He shrugged off the thought and walked away.

Jerome sat down at the foot of the mountain breathing heavily. His core was sealed so he could train with just his physical strength. Right now he felt sore all over and just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep.

“That’s enough training for the day,” Rihal said as he walked up to him, throwing him a waterskin.

Jerome snatched it out of the air and took a long swig of its content. “Who was that?” he asked.

“A fellow assassin. His name's Idrel but we call him the Viper.”

“He sure looks sleazy.”

“Not everyone is comfortable with you joining this adventure, Jerome,” Rihal said observing his disciple’s reaction.

Jerome turned those words in his head for a while. “And why is that?”

“They say you’re crippled,” he lied.

“Screw them.”

Rihal chuckled.

“Why am I allowed to go on this adventure anyway? Truth be told, I am kind of crippled,” Jerome’s gaze was steady as he watched Rihal.

“Well, that’s your answer right there,” Rihal said.

“What aren’t you telling me, Rihal?” Jerome asked, keeping his gaze on Rihal’s.

“You really do wanna know?”

Jerome kept quiet, waiting for an answer as he held Rihal’s gaze. The silence between them stretched out until Rihal finally spoke.

“You can’t unknow it once you know it.”

More silence. Rihal knew his disciple wouldn’t budge until he gave him an answer.

“How about this? You come back safely from your adventure, and I’ll tell you all you need to know.”

“Very well,” he stood up from the ground looking up at the sky. The sun was still high in the sky.

Best not waste the day sleeping away, he thought as he walked back to Kilian’s Palace.

~~~

“Aren’t you supposed to be training?” Jerome asked Ash as she walked into his room.

He’d moved back to his own room in Kilian’s Palace after his first session with Layla. Ash plopped down on his bed and looked around.

“Small,” she said.

“Ahem,” Jerome coughed lightly. “I don’t need a big room.”

“Mine’s just a bit bigger, but that’s because I bunk with Layla,” Ash smiled. “And she said to observe you so you don’t strain your body.”

He smiled with a nod, “I know my own limits.”

Jerome took out the Sunfire stone and sat on it. His head almost touched the ceiling of his little room.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“What is that?” Ash asked curiously.

“You’re about to find out,” he said, absorbing the stone’s essence. Slowly. More so as not to embarrass himself than hurt himself.

The essence from the Sunfire stone trickled into his body and Ash gasped as she sensed the attribute.

“I’ve never seen one of these. Where did you get it?”

“Pilgrims’ Keep,” he said with his eyes closed. “But I almost lost my life to obtain it.”

“That’s incredible,” she said almost in thought. “You’re gonna tell me about it later. I’ll just sit here quietly and watch you cycle.”

Time passed on as Jerome kept cycling. His core absorbed the essence from the Sunfire stone with excruciating slowness. If he went any faster, he’ll probably end up in the afterlife.

He stopped for a while to practice with the fire attribute essence, kindling a flame just above his palm.

“Ash,” he called out. She had slept off while he cycled and it was night already. Long eyelashes fluttered open and she sat up on his bed and stretched. Those long limbs did things to Jerome’s mind as he watched.

“Is that…did you just…” she asked excitedly, not even completing one question before asking the other.

“It’s quite small but it’s a flame nonetheless,” Jerome smiled as he spoke gazing excitedly at the flaming dancing on his palm. “I’m gonna ramp it up a bit more.”

Jerome adjusted the essence feeding the flame but kept it small and compressed. The temperature of the room began to rise soon after, and the flame warped into the shape of a ball, burning bright orange.

“Uhm, Jerome,” Ash called out, frightened.

He looked over only to see her sweating profusely. The flame changed color instantly, bathing the room in brilliant blue, and the temperature soared.

“Jerome put it out!”

The flame became so dense yet small that it felt like it would explode. Jerome stopped pouring essence into the flame and absorbed it back into his body. That was easier than I thought it’ll be, he thought.

Ash collapsed onto the bed breathing heavily. “Next time you wanna train, I’ll be at least a mile away from you,” she said.

“Jerome?” she called out after she heard nothing from him. He would have at least chuckled when he heard that. She raised her head only to see him deep in thought.

Ash quietly climbed out of the bed and went back to her quarters leaving him to his epiphany.

~~~

“Are you ready for this bad boy?” Rihal said as he walked into the underground training hall.

Jerome turned to look at the ‘training crab’ he pulled when he was Blank. He couldn’t believe he’d be pulling it again, and as Sprout.

“I created a flame last night,” he said, checking to see how his master reacted.

Rihal feigned surprise, “Oh, wow! Well, congratulations, Jerome.”

“Get out. She told you, didn't she?” Jerome smiled wryly. He should have known Ash would tell him. He felt betrayed. A bit.

“What are you talking about, we have to celebrate,” Rihal said, feigning ignorance. “Alright, let me see it.”

Jerome raised his hand slightly and a blue flame kindled on his palm. Rihal would probably pat me on the back and promise to help me improve it, he thought until he looked up and saw Rihal’s face.

The assassin was truly stunned this time around. It took him a while to school his features as he peeled his eyes away from the flame to stare at Jerome like he was seeing him for the first time.

“Did I do it wrong?” Jerome asked, leaning on his staff for support. He put out the fire and held the staff with both hands.

“No, no, that’s not it,” Rihal said, his expression one of seriousness and confusion.

“How did you do it, though?” Rihal asked.

Jerome recounted what happened the night before. The look on Rihal’s face was golden. Why is there no camera in this world? Jerome thought to himself with a smile of satisfaction.

“Jerome, humans don’t just up and make flames after absorbing a few strands of fire-essence. That’s the expertise of magical beasts. It takes a lot of practice just to produce the first spark…

“Except,” Rihal smiled at him. “You have a very deep comprehension of fire.”

“That could be the case. Fire is produced when fuel is burned — the essence, in this case, being the fuel.”

“But it’s not just fuel,” Rihal injected. “Which brings me to how you created ‘blue flame’. It takes years to do that.”

“Air,” Jerome stated. “It needs air,” Oxygen to be precise, he thought with a smile. “But both air and fuel need to strike a balance to prevent wastage,” he continued. “It’s not actually about pouring more essence into it, it’s about preventing wastage.”

Rihal stopped to stare at his disciple for a long time.

“Very well. Let’s see how well you can use your flame in battle,” he said with a smile.

“What about the crab?”

“Is that what you call it?” Rihal turned to look at the crab-shaped contraption.

“It’s shaped like a crab!”

Rihal shrugged. “We’ll practice later with it.”

He approached a weapons rack and picked out a staff, walking ten paces away from Jerome.

“Go ahead and shoot your best flame at me.”

Jerome attacked.

~~~

With the mini quakes shaking the structure, the head guard of Kilian’s Palace had to send someone down to the training hall to find out what was going on. What the guard found when he got there nearly popped his eyes out: a skinny crippled Jerome standing with the aid of a stick, spewing flames out of his hand. He could see a blur running around dodging the flame which he took to be Senior Rihal.

The flames, however, were blue. Who creates blue flames?! The heat and pressure blasting out of the hall were so oppressive, he had to run away before he was turned into roast meat.

Jerome kept his emotions under control as he tried to hit Rihal. That was the goal: shoot fast enough to hit a moving target. It was easier said than done.

“You’re slacking behind, Jerome. Put your back into it.”

“Easy for you to say. Any more than this and my channels will burn out. The seizure that follows will be unbearable,” Jerome said, almost as though he was talking to himself, taking stock of his injuries.

Rihal changed course and headed for Jerome. In an instant, he was upon him. His staff stopped inches above Jerome’s head and the force of the wind it brought with it blew out the blue flame like a candle in a hurricane.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Jerome muttered, putting all his weight on the staff in his hand. His breathing had become uneven and his eyes unfocused.

Rihal looked around the training hall. “You’ve got a lot of work to do my dear disciple. Best get to it now.”

Jerome sighed as he looked around the hall. The whole place was covered in soot and many of the weapons had been destroyed.

“I’ll spend more time cleaning than actually training this way,” he complained.

“Cleaning can be training too,” Rihal pointed out.

“That’s not true and you know it.”

“Any activity can be considered training, depending on how you see it.”

Jerome kept quiet. He shuffled over to one of the destroyed racks to search for a rag cursing out a while later. The rag had been destroyed. He looked back to get Rihal’s attention, but the assassin was nowhere to be seen.

~~~

“You just had to destroy my weapons, didn’t you?” Kilian said with a sigh as Rihal appeared in front of his study.

“It’s not like you use it,” Rihal walked in and shut the door. “Where have you been all this while?”

“Research,” Kilian answered. “And I do use them.”

Rihal waved him off. “I was surprised when I heard Jerome would be going to Terra Praeta. How did you pull that off?”

“I didn’t,” Kilian said. He picked up a pot of already prepared tea and poured himself a cup. “It was the Sovereign’s suggestion.”

Why would the Sovereign suggest that? Rihal got lost in thought.

“Have you found out how he was able to keep the beast at bay?”

Rihal shook his head. “He’ll begin to question everything if I start asking questions.”

“I guess there’s no real way of getting anything without giving something in return,” Kilian said absently. “You could tell him about Terra Praeta…in exchange for what else he picked up during Pilgrims’ Keep.”

“He’ll see right through that, but it’s one way to go about this. Maybe I’ll try it,” Rihal stated.

“Good luck to you then,” Kilian said as he lifted his teacup to his lips.

“Did any fated Dark One ever find out what they were destined to be before taking on the darkness?”

“That would have been recorded in the annals. I do advise against it, though. I don’t think he’d want to know he’s destined to be…” Kilian sighed. “Just don’t tell him.”

“I wish I could talk to—” Rihal stopped and shook his head frustrated. “Argh, it wouldn’t matter.”

“I can see he’s a lot healthier, though. How’s his training going?”

Rihal picked up the teapot and poured himself a cup as well. “He’s learning things on his own now. He created a flame.”

“That’s great, but you sound like it’s a bad thing.”

Rihal sighed, “he’s…gloomier and…darker than his usual self.”

They both sipped their tea silently, sighing at the turn of events. Hedon had done a number on Jerome, not just physically, but psychologically.

“Did I tell you the flames were blue?”

Kilian was stunned. “His comprehension is that deep?”

“He’s a genius,” Rihal said, nodding with a smile of approval. “But he’d be resuming his session with Layla in four days. I want him to put on some muscle before then. Terra Praeta won’t wait for him.”

Rihal stood up to walk out.

“You’re gonna be replacing all my weapons you trashed,” Kilian said flatly.

“That wasn’t me, that was Jerome.”

“Your disciple. Whom you were training. As his master, you should take responsibility.”

Rihal chuckled and left.

~~~

“Everyone’s trigger is unique to them,” Rihal said. “Mine was the fear of the unknown, the fear of not knowing when or where an attack would come from.”

Rihal had gone back to help Jerome tidy up the training hall and now they were sitting in his room talking about his senses which were more advanced than it was when he was Blank.

“I can’t teach you how to trigger your perception, but I can tell you what it’s like,” Rihal cocked his head trying to find the right words.

“It’s like…reaching out with hands to feel the world around you. You can literally sense everything within a few steps of you, or extend your perception in a specific direction—even through a wall.”

“That’s incredible!” Jerome exclaimed. “When I was at the south gate, someone tried to take my position on the line. I severed his arm and watched, I mean…felt him cycle. It was a thrilling discovery.”

Rihal chuckled. “It’s not the same thing but you get my explanation and that’s what matters.”

He stood up and gestured to Jerome. “Take a meditative position.”

Jerome got down from his bed and sat on the ground to meditate.

“Do not cycle. Just shut your eyes and look inwards,” Rihal instructed.

He felt things like cotton buds pushed into his ears. The sound from the environment suddenly dimmed until it disappeared completely and he almost felt like he had gone into a trance. The silence was stifling and almost oppressive. Next, something covered his eyes and darkness was all he could see.

“You’ll have to meditate like this for a few hours.”

“How’d you do that?” Rihal was talking into his mind!

“Shhh! Meditate, or I’ll shut your mouth too.”

Jerome tamped down his excitement and cycled to calm down.

“I said no cycling.”

“Sorry,” he said. It’s not my mind he’s talking into but it felt like it. It’s more like…he’s talking through the buds in my ears.

Jerome settled into a meditative state, his mind peaceful. He didn't, however, know what to do next. He decided to look inwards as he did during Mhen Agrh'ur. Nothing. Even after a good chunk of time. Impatience set in and his bearing was disrupted. Rihal smacked him on the back of the head.

“Patience.”

Jerome grumbled, offended. This isn’t working, he thought.

I’d have to sit still like this without cycling? Just sitting?

Thwack! Rihal smacked him in the head again.

“It’s called meditation for a reason,” Rihal said, walking around him in circles. “Your goal is to achieve a state of absolute calm. Wanting for nothing. Aiming for nothing. Just…be.”