It was only a few minutes later that Sheela made it back to them. A light rain had begun drizzling so they worked on getting more wood.

Jerome looked over at Ms. Tara, wondering why she hadn’t woken up yet. The heavy canopy of trees above them would keep them dry so there was that.

“She’s awake, Xerae. She just doesn’t know how to face you.”

Jerome’s heart nearly broke at that. He quickly dumped the twigs in his hands and picked her up, hugging her to himself. Ms. Tara broke down in tears, hugging him back.

“It’s okay,” Jerome said. He was finding it hard to keep himself from breaking into tears too. “This was all my fault. You don’t have to beat yourself over it.”

Sheela had caught a buck. She stood there with the large game on her shoulders unsure of what to do. Jerome sensed Csala dump her own forage of twigs beside his and dragged the Shifter away to give them some privacy.

Ms. Tara cried for a long time, letting it all out before calming down. Her sobs reduced to hiccups and for a long time they just held each other.

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” Jerome said.

“I’m happy to see you too,” Ms. Tara said. “I couldn’t stop them, Jerome. They came prepared that afternoon. They knew we’d all be indoors, resting in the cool of the orphanage.”

“It’s okay, Ms. Tara. You don’t have to relive it all again.”

“No, I… I just,” she sniffed. “We couldn’t stop them. If it wasn’t for Old Wen they would have…”

Jerome got the picture. And it made his blood boil in anger. “They’ll pay for it,” he said through gritted teeth. “All of ‘em will pay.”

“Hedon is here, Jerome. In Terra Praeta.”

“Yes, I fought him.”

“You fought him?” Ms. Tara asked, flabbergasted. Then she seemed to remember something as she gazed lovingly into his eyes. “How did you even come to be here? I was chosen by some mysterious leader of the Diviners.”

Jerome shook his head. “I’ve never heard of them.”

“Yes, I only got to know about them in Terra Praeta.”

“The Royals sent me here.” Jerome went on to tell her how he had been taken to the Royal Estate after Mehn Agrh’ur and all the craziness that happened afterward.

Ms. Tara was glad to hear that Ash was alive and thriving in the Royal Estate. In fact, Pilgrims’ Keep would already be over months ago, and she’d be waiting for him to come back home. Jerome didn’t tell her about the opportunities he’d encountered in Terra Praeta. He didn’t think it was the right time.

But Ms. Tara didn’t care for how powerful he was or what treasures he’d obtained. She wanted to know if the Royals had been treating him right; if they fed him regularly. She looked him over from head to boots for any sign of malnourishment or evidence of abuse.

“How are you so tall?” she said.

Jerome couldn’t help but smile at her antics. Ms. Tara was a mother through and through. She always put others before herself and that was what made her so endearing to him.

Someone cleared their throat to get their attention. “Peradventure you’ve both forgotten that you have company… and there’s a buck that needs to be cleaned and roasted,” Sheela said from a few feet away. She muttered something about not preparing it since she caught it.

Jerome looked over at the buck, standing up. “That’s a very impressive big buck,” he said with a nod of appreciation. He helped Ms. Tara to her feet as well.

Sheela blushed from the praise. “Well, let it be known that Terra Praetan games are much faster and sturdier than those of our world. Fuck!”

“Thank you,” Jerome said to her. “For taking the time and energy to hunt it down.”

“Huh,” she muttered, examining him anew. Sheela didn’t know what he looked like before he became emaciated from creating his void space. “You’re easy on the eyes… and tall. Where did Tara find such a hunk?” She eyed him up and down with undisguised interest.

Jerome raised an eyebrow at her. It seemed Shifters didn’t just dress wildly, they spoke brazenly too. He went to work, creating a makeshift table out of living steel to skin the buck of its hide. The buck’s hide was tougher than he had expected, perhaps due to the fact that it was already close to becoming as powerful as a Sprout.

Herbivorous magical beasts weren’t uncommon. But they usually didn’t advance as high as this — at least none Jerome had seen did. They’d become some lucky predator’s meal before they could ever wield essence, even if they had advanced higher than the predator.

Jerome sighed as he worked. Life was not fair, and such was the situation he found himself in with Hedon. With a powerful Ancestral Spirit behind him, Hedon was able to escape death once again. Leaving Jerome to ponder what his next move would be. The Alvric heir would become more careful now. He’d leave nothing to chance in the effort to prevent such a thing from happening again.

If only you hadn’t stopped me, Achilles, he’d be dead by now.

“In my defense, Xerae. I was looking out for you.”

Of course you were, Jerome deadpanned. He was really angry at the turn of events but now he knew that Achilles would put his life first even if it meant manipulating him. This was the part that stung like a bitch. Never do that again, Achilles. Your plans must go through me first, got it?

“As you wish, Xerae.”

Jerome put thoughts of Hedon out of his mind and concentrated on the work before him. He had checked to see if the buck had a core but there was nothing emitting essence from it anymore. He knew the buck wouldn’t have a core but there was no harm in checking. Since the beast hadn’t tapped into its bloodline powers, it couldn’t condense a physical core yet. Whatever meager essence it must have gathered throughout its life had dissipated the moment Sheela killed it. But its body would have retained some essence even in death. Which would make its meat a sort after dish for Blanks. The amount of vitality and essence left in the meat wouldn’t make any difference for a Sprout like him though. But Jerome wasn’t bothered about that.

He removed the innards, separating the lower body from the upper body and put aside one hind leg for their meal. The three ladies watched him work, a fire crackling in their midst. He placed his hand on the other parts of the game and it froze over — not quickly, but quick enough that they saw the ice spread.

“I didn’t know you could command ice,” Csala said.

“That’s incredible, Jerome,” Ms. Tara said.

Sheela just stared in silence as if all he did was just child’s play to her, even though she was secretly impressed.

“Cold is the absence of heat,” Jerome explained. “I can’t command ice, but I can take away heat.”

“Ah!” Ms. Tara exclaimed. “I have never thought of it that way.”

Jerome smiled. What he did actually required very fine control of one’s essence and mental energy. Which reminded him. “You’d be teaching me how to use my me…psychic energy from tonight onwards, Csala. After the meal, of course.”

“Hmm-hmm,” Csala hummed, her tone carrying a little snark with it.

“What?” Jerome asked as he felt her gaze on him. She looked away as if to say, ‘you’ll have to pry my mouth open before I teach you anything.’

Jerome chuckled and concentrated on his work. His thoughts shifted to his makeshift table as he worked, shutting every other thing out. He wanted to try something with wood like this metal table. Some of the knowledge he’d gained from the library in Sanctum debunked the laws he’d grown up believing.

The Fae didn’t need to absorb elements of a certain kind before they could wield it; they just had to have an understanding of it and…sense it? He wanted to try. He had lots of ideas flying around in his mind with no time to practice them. He felt he could manipulate wood like he did steel — well living steel, and gems like he did earth.

“You’re on the right track, Xerae,” Achilles said.

Hmm, he replied.

It didn’t take long to finish butchering the game. Jerome came out of his musing to hear the ladies discussing him in whispers. He walked over to the fire at the center of their camp and lifted the burning woods off the ground with his mental energy. He made a hole deep enough to fit the wood. He then made a smaller hole beside the first, facing upwind which connected to the one for the fire.

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“I see,” Ms. Tara said in thought, understanding what he did. “For the air, right?”

“And also to prevent smoke…and predators from seeing the fire,” Jerome said, filling the first hole with the burning wood.

“It sure is nice to wield essence,” Csala muttered, quietly. Jerome had made those holes as though it was nothing. Not even a wave or a hand gesture was done. The holes just… made themselves. But she felt the essence being used, as well as the tight leash on it. He had a tremendous amount of control of essence for one so young.

When sacred artists used essence — or even if they didn’t — succubi could ‘see’ it as aura. There was always a slight leak of that essence that slips their control and dissipates into the world, becoming a part of the ambient essence. Jerome’s control on his essence, however, was a lot firmer than the average sacred artist’s, leaking nothing away into the world.

Jerome could sense Csala’s wistfulness and indignation. He knew it stemmed from the fact that she naturally couldn’t wield essence like humans or Fae. There may be something he could do to help her out but until he tried, he wouldn’t be sure. With the fire set, Jerome went ahead to spit roast the pieces of meat he had prepared for them. They sat around the fire waiting for their meal to be ready and Jerome took the time to test out his theories.

“How is it you’re still alive?” Csala asked.

“Huh?”

Ms. Tara and Sheela turned to her as well.

“You were at death’s door before the sun set today — all bones and mummified flesh. I had to carry you as carefully as possible so as not to break you.”

Jerome paused. He fixed his gaze on the spit rotating over the fire as it cooked the meat impaled on it. He had set up Suzie to help rotate the spit on the fire. “I guess you can say I’m different.”

Csala raised an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look. Since he didn’t share more though, she didn’t ask.

“Different how?” Ms. Tara asked. Oh, how innocent she still was.

“I’ve got gifts… Most of which I found here in Terra Praeta.” He gave Csala a look to let her know to keep her mouth shut.

“Oh,” Ms. Tara perked up. But then she deflated, and her happiness with it.

“What is it? You can tell me about it,” Jerome asked, trying not to sound too forceful.

“It’s nothing—”

“It’s something,” Sheela butted in. “She came to Tera Praeta to become stronger.”

“Sheela!” Ms. Tara snapped, trying to shut down her friend.

“What?” Sheela dismissed her tone. “Someone needs to tell him. And he sure looks like he can help you far better than I can.” She frowned.

“Oh, Sheela.” Ms. Tara, just like everyone, caught the bitter undertone in the shifter’s voice. She scooted closer to her friend and hugged her. Jerome could tell the shifter wasn’t someone that was usually not in control.

Achilles?

“Waaay ahead of you, Xerae.” He sensed a familiar sensation as Achilles connected to his void space and dumped some things into it.

Jerome scanned the contents floating inside his void space. He saw a small black cube hovering a few feet in the air. What am I looking at, Achilles?

“Doesn’t it bring back memories?”

“Ah.” he remembered the strange black cubes that had appeared, hovering above the grounds of the City Square on the day of Mehn Agrh’ur. The roasting venison sizzled over the fire and Jerome began slicing bits off of it and handing it over to the ladies.

The meat was barely tasty since there was no seasoning or spices to go with it. At least the little fat from the meat served as oil to keep it moist.

“Do you remember what it was like during Mehn Agrh’ur, Ms. Tara?” he asked as he passed her a big slice of meat.

“Everyone remembers that, Jerome.” She chuckled. “Who would forget such an experience?”

“Well, the black cubes that were floating in the air during the initiation were artifacts that helped stimulate the essence in the air to make it denser. That way non sacred artists could sense essence for the first time.”

“And you think that’s news how?” Came the snarky remark from Sheela.

“Sure, every Sprout who went through it would have it figured out already,” Jerome said. “I do have one such artifact though. And I want you to use it tonight to grow your core.”

Both female Sprouts looked at Jerome like he had grown a second head, then at themselves as if they couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Jerome didn’t want to keep them doubting any longer so he materialized the sphere above his hand and it sailed upwards, stopping twenty feet in the air and rotating.

Ms. Tara’s eyes bulged as she saw the cube floating above them. “Is this real? Can it really do as you say?”

Sheela forced her gaze away from the cube to look Jerome in the eyes questioningly. Jerome nodded at her, knowing she was seeking confirmation of her friend’s words.

“Better still, it can produce essence in the elements specific to those harnessing its power.” He brought out a set of gauntlets and handed it to Ms. Tara, smiling. He watched her caress the metal with care, mesmerized by the dark exterior of the artifact. “Those would help you concentrate your fire essence, making them more powerful. You’d also be able to shoot them with better aim and more range.”

Achilles had designed the gauntlets — all his weapons in fact — such that they didn’t have a metallic shine to them. This way they wouldn’t inadvertently alert enemies in the distance who might catch a glimpse of the metallic glint of steel.

“Try it on.”

“Jerome,” Ms. Tara said, starting to extend her hands to return his gift. Jerome held up his hand to stop her. “I can’t… this looks—”

“Too much?” Jerome asked, smiling. “I think it’s not enough. I would give you a fine blade but I don’t know how well you can wield one.”

“Stop being like that, Tara.” The Shifter hugged her sideways, smiling for the first time since Jerome had met her. “I sense these are very powerful artifacts. And they are going to be very useful to you.”

“I’ve already begun stirring the vital aura in the earth, Xerae,” Achilles said. “Don’t worry. I’ll have her better than she ever was in no time. Plus I dropped a few special storage rings in your void space.”

Jerome retrieved two rings and handed it over to the Sprouts. “They’re special. Top grade if you will.”

Sheela snatched it from him, replacing hers with it and transferring all her possessions into the new ring. Ms. Tara took her time, looking skeptical at him.

“Where did you get all these, Jerome? They look… new. Like they’ve just been crafted,” she said.

Jerome was caught off guard by that question.

“Not the time, Tara,” Sheela butted in again. “Just take the damned gifts and be grateful.”

Ms. Tara looked at her anxiously, a wordless communication passing between them both.

“If you’re worried they came through dubious means, put your mind to rest. I obtained them fair and square,” Jerome assured her. “Now, I know you both want to go after those who trapped you. Make sure to wring that thing dry. I don’t care.” He pointed at the floating black square in the sky.

“What’s it even called,” Csala asked, looking at the artifact with awe.

Jerome chuckled, causing them all to look his way. “There’s a story to it if you must know. It’s called a Bleeding Hand. The fae created it. Long ago they came to our world. God’s they were called.”

Sheela shivered and almost seemed to shrink into herself. Ms. Tara turned to her. “What?”

“You didn’t grow up hearing scary stories of the fae,” the shifter muttered quietly. “My grandma was a sadist who took pleasure in scaring us children to our beds with such stories. She used her mental energy to affect our minds so we could feel what she felt as she told her tales.”

Tara smiled at her. “I’ll hold your hand.”

Sheela pushed her away and Jerome chuckled at their antics. They didn’t seem at all like older Sprouts. Just a pair of young girls who let down their guard around each other. He glanced at Csala and caught her smiling at them too. But she glared at him, schooling her features in embarrassment. He smirked. This was fun.

“Well, there are creatures in the seas and oceans of our world. They call them Titans. Gigantic Eldritch beings that wield tremendous amounts of essence. They are so big that if they come on land, they look like mountains. Only Transcendents can battle them. And there’s no assurance of defeating one even then. I think Terra Praeta once had Titans like ours but…” Jerome stopped to think, sifting through his memories.

“Well?” Ms. Tara asked impatiently.

“They once thrived here, but the fae happened.” Titans still existed on Terra Praeta but he didn’t want to reveal that. They were an endangered species.

“Do you mind explaining that? Csala asked.

Jerome looked around, seeing they were all engrossed in his story. He twirled his fingers in the air and droplets of water formed, floating above him. He distributed cups made out of living steel with water in them.

“Show off,” Csala muttered. He shrugged, enjoying her jealousy and discomfort. If she wanted to be petty then two can play that game.

“The fae saw an opportunity to harness more essence, and as a matter of fact, enormous body parts. They only saw the Titans for the wealth and power they could make off them. Lest you have a skewed notion of these beings, I must say they weren’t normally dangerous to other species. In fact, some considered them guardians of the seas and oceans.”

“‘Normally?’” Csala asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I only know so much.” Jerome shrugged. “The fae must have wiped them all out. Afterall, they opened a portal to our world and started harvesting our own Titans. Whenever they caught one, they would cut off its hands from the wrist — these beings were bipedal but also aquatic in nature. They also cut off other parts of their bodies to be processed, cooked — you name it. Any horrendous thing they could think of.”

“That’s… awful!” Ms. Tara said in disgust.

Jerome continued. “The hands were processed into these cubes. One hand for one cube. They are said to bleed essence whenever those with the intent to absorb it are around them. Hence the name, ‘The Bleeding Hand’.”

“But these practices don’t exist anymore, right?” Sheela asked.

“No, they don’t.” Jerome shook his head.

“Then where did this one come from?” She pointed at the floating cube in the air. “All the Bleeding Hands from that time period should have been used up by now.”

Jerome looked at her and asked, “Are you sure you want to know that? Because it’s… it might disgust you.”

Sheela frowned at him.

“Well, Titans eat a lot,” he began. “They have to, seeing how big they grow to be at adulthood. For creatures that eat throughout their lives, they gotta take a shit sometimes.” He looked all three of them in the eyes to check if they were following.

“Are you saying that thing is…” Ms. Tara pointed upwards.

“Titan poop,” Jerome said with a shrug.

Csala burst into laughter.