Ash

She squealed in excitement at the sound of Jerome’s voice. “Jerome! It’s so good to hear your voice!”

“Ash?” he called out. Jerome laughed. His voice was deeper — much deeper than she’d ever heard it, she realized. It had a smoothness to it that made her want to curl up into his embrace. “It’s so good to hear your voice too. I’ve missed you. Wait, what are you doing in Alvion, Ash? Rihal.” Jerome’s voice became a growl when he called uncle Rihal’s name.

“Have you forgotten who I am to you, disciple?”

“Why’d you bring her here?” Jerome asked, unfazed by Uncle Rihal’s tone.

Uncle Rihal sighed. “What’s your situation, Jerome?”

“The situation can wait!” Jerome snapped. “Rihal, if anything happens to her—”

“You shouldn’t make threats you can’t follow through with, Jerome.”

“Oh, I intend to follow through with this one.” Jerome’s voice was cold. She felt like he could freeze water with voice.

“I can take care of myself, Jerome,” Ash said. Why did he think she couldn’t defend herself? She felt betrayed by that knowledge.

“Ash, I know you can take care of yourself.” His voice softened. “But not from threats like Messengers and Judges.”

“Jerome,” Uncle Rihal’s father appeared out of nowhere. “My name is Ivar Vorthe, a member of the Nediti.”

Jerome scoffed. “I find it weird that you reveal that fact too readily, Senior Ivar.”

“And you don’t sound surprised to hear it either.”

Uncle Rihal tried to get his father’s attention to no avail.

“I have a proposition for you, Jerome, before my son ruins things beyond repair.” He glared at Uncle Rihal. “He should have simply mentioned that he was ordered to take Ash with him.”

“I wanted to come on this mission with Uncle Rihal, Jerome!” Ash said. She hated that they were discussing her choices like she wasn’t even there.

“And how did you find out about this ‘mission’, Ash?” Jerome asked and Ash sputtered. “He should have fought that order.” Strange thunderous noises came through the bird which prevented them from speaking for a while.

“Well, if she hadn’t come along with him they wouldn’t have been able to identify Old Wen, would they?” Senior Ivar said.

Uncle Rihal cursed. “Father, don’t do this.”

His father looked pointedly at him while she and Crystal looked from one to the other. More of that thundering sound came from the bird, pausing their discussion again. When it stopped, Jerome spoke.

“Get me an audience with the Sovereign.”

“You reach for the stars, young man!” Rihal’s father said, taken aback.

“Then we’re done talking—”

“Do you think you can find the old man before we do?”

“Oh, I have,” Jerome said.

“You have?” everyone said at once. They looked at each other in surprise, not expecting such a statement from Jerome. Ash had thought Jerome would ask Uncle Rihal to help save Old Wen — beg him, even. No, maybe not beg. Jerome was too proud to do that.

“He’s right outside Alvion.”

Crystal grabbed her before she could move. “Don’t,” she said.

“Finding him isn’t my problem. Rescuing him is,” Jerome said.

“Jerome, there are six children in—” Uncle Rihal clamped his hand over her mouth before she could complete her statement.

“Rescue Old Wen, Senior Ivar, and I will give you what you want.”

“And how much would that be?” Mr. Ivar said.

Anger boiled inside her and she pushed uncle Rihal’s hand away. “Are you serious right now?! There’s a life in danger and you’re haggling over it?!”

Senior Ivar didn’t even look her way. Ash screamed trying to get away from Crystal but the Spirit Realm artist was too strong.

“Ash, calm down,” Crystal said. “Anger won’t solve this problem.”

“A hundred pounds worth,” Jerome said after a while.

“I feel like I’m being cheated, young man,” Senior Ivar said.

“Well, unfortunately for you, someone else, or should I say something else is on the job. It’s a race to the finish line now. Whoever rescues Old Wen, takes the prize — and he must be alive and well too.”

Senior Ivar scoffed. “You’re bluffing.”

“He isn’t, father,” Uncle Rihal deadpanned. More thundering sounds came from the bird and they had to wait to speak with Jerome again.

“With all due respect, sir, you seem to forget that you’re speaking to me through a very lifelike bird made from living steel, which had to fly across two battlefields to get to Alvion. Time’s a’ wastin’, Senior Ivar. ”

No sound came from the bird again. It turned to face the on-going battle and perched on the stone parapet. Senior Ivar cursed and teleported away.

“Do you trust me, Rihal?” Crystal asked.

Uncle Rihal’s gaze met hers and they both stared at each other for a moment. “What’s this about, Crystal?”

“Whatever’s going on with your disciple, Ash knows too, doesn’t she?”

Ash stiffened and Crystal gave her a pointed look.

“He’s different is all,” Uncle Rihal said and reached for the bird, touching the top of its head once again.

Crystal didn’t appear to accept that answer. She was hurt and Ash knew it. It wasn’t just the fact that Uncle Rihal didn’t tell her but that he didn’t trust her enough to tell her. But Uncle Rihal couldn’t. The same went for her since she had sworn an oath to keep Jerome’s secret. She had never asked, but she was sure Uncle Rihal had done the same too.

Crystal turned to face the ongoing battle and an uncomfortable silence settled among them. Ash could almost feel the storm of emotions brewing between them. Jerome didn’t respond back, no matter how many times Uncle Rihal tapped the head of the bird.

Ash pulled his hand away from the bird and interlaced her fingers with his. She took Crystal’s hand and did the same with hers. They stood there in awkward silence, but at least the tension was gone.

~~~

The Itakars must have contacted the Royal family, or maybe it was the Royal family that contacted the Itakars to reach out to their Sprouts. Whichever way, Vorthe had found out about the Waters of Irithiya. How much they knew was what he didn’t know.

“Does it matter, Xerae?” Achilleia asked.

I need to know what the Itakars must have told them. Not that I don’t trust Selene, but Rihal’s father just haggled with me. I’m not giving away all the water from the pool to them just because I was ignorant of how much they knew.

“Very well.”

Jerome flew back to their camp. He gave Achilleia a mission — with a huge chunk of living steel — to either save Old Wen or make sure the Nediti saved him. Thinking about what Ash had tried to say, he knew he had to find those six children.

“Rihal means well, Xerae.”

I know he does.

“Then, take a deep breath, and calm down or your anger will get the best of you.”

Jerome sighed and did as she said. Do you feel it?

“What?”

The beast inside me.

Achilleia took a moment before answering. “I’m sorry, Xerae. I sense nothing.”

It’s like it’s a part of me. A part of my soul. And its urges are getting more difficult to keep at bay.

“Be strong, Xerae. For us.” Achilleia showed him the faces of everyone he cared about; everyone he wanted to protect and keep close.

Thanks, Achilleia. That helped.

“You’re welcome, Xerae.” She beamed at him.

Getting to camp only took him a few minutes. Selene gave him a brief version of what she had told her mother and he was glad she had kept a lot of things to herself, leaving it up to him to tell whoever wanted to know.

“Are you going to make me swear an oath?” she asked.

“What? Why would I do that?”

Selene visibly relaxed — as did Lang but he tried his best to hide it. Jerome looked at him and could see the discomfort in his eyes.

“The Matriarch knows all about what happened,” Lang said. “She wants us to come to an agreement with you…”

“Is that all?” Jerome gave him a look that said he knew he wasn’t saying everything.

“... even if it means swearing an oath.”

Jerome scoffed. Lang still wasn’t telling him everything. “I’m guessing she thinks you can get me to swear not to say a word about it all to the Royal family?” Lang held his gaze but it was all written in his eyes. “The Royal family already knows about it — or at least they have some idea, but not really what it is.”

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Lang turned to Selene. “I should have gotten an oath from you and your teammates before we left Terra Praeta.”

“That’s bullying,” Jerome said. “And I wouldn’t have let you.”

Lang glared at him. Jerome just shrugged. He left them to locate the tent he shared with his women.

The different groups had put efforts together to build them a makeshift fort of sorts, and Jerome had fortified it with magic. They were protected by a large circular stone wall in the very clearing — valley — he had killed a Judge. An achievement he wished no one had learned about. But wishes didn’t grow on trees.

The looks he got made him uncomfortable. These Sprouts were looking at him like he was some kind of savior, which he totally knew he was not. Sure he had saved them, but he didn’t do it for that alone. He quickly located their tent and stepped in.

Nyx was sleeping on Csala’s bed, the bed Achilleia had gifted her in Terra Praeta. The rest of the girls were still out fighting Messengers. Jerome sat down on the floor to meditate. He could sense the chunk of metal he had released to Achilleia, swimming through the air toward Alvion.

“Ivar is already there, Xerae. The Judges are interrogating everyone else.”

What!?

“They know there’s a leak in their midst.”

Fuck! Why is this happening — the Judges we killed! He realized. The Church would never have believed a bunch of Sprouts would be able to kill not just one but two Judges. Achillea, get there as fast as you can!

“Almost there!”

What’s Ivar doing?

“He’s watching from the shadows, waiting for the right time to strike. There are four Judges there, Xerae. He can’t just walk in and take one of the people they’re interrogating. Sages are strong, but Judges can still hurt them.”

Jerome watched through his senses connected with the evolved living steel. Achilleia got there just as one of the Judges stepped in front of an old skinny, wrinkly man. The man was tall, taller than most except for the Judges themselves, and there was no doubt in Jerome’s mind that this was Old Wen. His blood boiled to see the once vibrant giant of a man reduced to nothing. He couldn’t sense or see Ivar Vorthe. Maybe he was literally hiding in the shadows just as Sheela moved through it.

“Jerome,” Sheela’s voice reached him as if summoned. “Don’t be mad about this. I’m in Alvion.”

“What!?” Nyx stirred in her sleep so Jerome kept his voice low. “What are you doing in Alvion? It’s too dangerous there.”

“Well, I heard you discussing with the Royals—”

“How did you..? You’ve been shadowing me.”

Sheela kept mute. Jerome sighed. “I’m impressed, Sheela, but it’s too dangerous there. You should come back right now.”

“Hold on, I have a clear shot at one of the Judges and I’m three miles away. If they sense me, I’ll Shadow Step away.”

Jerome regretted giving her a rifle, especially a sniping rifle that could take out targets from point six-six-two miles away. If she was three miles away, she intended to use her ring to power up the Silent Death to make up for the huge distance.

“Ivar has sighted you, Sheela,” Achilleia’s voice sounded in his ear.

~~~

Sheela

Sheela aimed Silent Death at the Sage sharing the Shadow dimension with her. The scope on her rifle helped her to see far into the distance and right now, she was looking at a smirking Sage whose eyes were on her, and back turned against those he should be fighting.

She gulped, her throat dry and heavy. Her body shook with fear and she would have let go of her rifle if her ring wasn’t sending soothing essence throughout her body. It was scary seeing another person in this world of black, white, and grays. She had never met anyone, or anything here.

The Sage turned to face the Judges but disappeared in an instant.

“I mean you no harm, Sheela of the Fang,” a deep voice sounded from beside her.

Sheela whipped around, quickly drawing her hand gun and aiming at the Sage’s chest.

“You need not fear me.”

“Fear…” she couldn’t even find her voice. “Fear is an instinct one knows not how to control.”

The Sage smiled. “You have learned much from the old wolf, little one. How fares your father these days?”

She slowly lowered her gun. “He ages gracefully.” She stood and holstered her gun before bowing. “Light embrace you, honored one.”

“And light be with you,” the Sage said with an appreciative nod. “Do not fear me, Sheela. I will not hurt you. In fact, I’m duty bound to protect you now.”

“Huh?” What did that mean?

The Sage looked in the direction of the Judges with distant eyes. It occurred to her that he had just teleported three miles in a split moment — Achilleia had taught her of the ‘second’. Was this what she meant? Sheela marveled at the ease with which he had done it. Jerome had had to use a formation to teleport them the same distance.

But what did he mean by his previous statement?

“You didn’t think you were gifted your Midnight Panther by coincidence did you?”

Sheela took a step back from him in shock.

“Know that it is your friend, Tara, whose friendship gave you the opportunity to receive such a powerful beastcore.”

“But—”

“But you’ve had the core since before Tara came into your life?” The Sage smirked at her as if he was in on a joke she knew nothing about. “Of that, you are correct. But light reveals, young Fang, even the future.”

Sheela’s eyes widened in shock. She’d heard rumors but hearing them confirmed was still a shock.

“The Royal family foresaw your friendship with one close to Jerome and made an effort to keep her safe through you. Never forget that.”

“Your jaw’s on the floor, Sheela,” Achilleia said in her ear through her ring. “If he asks you if Jerome is listening, tell him no. And that’s actually the truth as I cut off the connection.”

As if Achilleia could see the future, the Sage asked, “Can Jerome hear me?”

“Huh? No.” She was still trying to process everything she’d heard that it was a little hard to keep up.

“Pity,” the Sage said and disappeared. Her nerves finally began to calm down after he left.

“Mount your rifle, Sheela,” Achilleia said. Sheela quickly picked up Silent Death and attached it back on its mount. “The Sage wanted Jerome to know the Royal family provided your beastcore so he would feel indebted to them. That in itself is okay but the intent and manner in which he did it is what I don’t like.”

“Thanks, Achilleia,” Sheela said. “Jerome is the luckiest man in the world to have you.”

“Oh, he knows.” Achilleia chuckled. “And he lets me know it all the time.”

Sheela smiled, laying back on the ground and taking aim again. “It all makes sense now. My name was given to me by the first Matron of the Academia of Sanctum — she gave me her name and became my godmother. The Divine Mother of the Diviners gifted me my beastcore when I was a child. Most in the pack had to work for their beastcores — well, I worked for mine but looking back, I’d say I was always meant to have it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say they knew exactly what the future held in store for you, or Jerome. But they had a glimpse into it. Never believe that anyone has clear insights into what the future holds, hmmm?”

“Got it.”

The Judges were beginning to threaten the old man who was shaking like a leaf in a storm. The fear in his eyes was palpable. Whatever they were accusing him of, he kept shaking his head, lips quivering in fear.

The Sage stepped out of the shadows and swiped at the Judges head. He was gone the next moment, so fast, Sheela almost thought he was an illusion of her mind. The Judge fell, his head tumbling in a different direction. The other Judges stood from their seats as commotion descended on their camp and she aimed at another Judge.

Sheela stirred the essence in her ring, activating the jades to block ascended elements, diamonds to provide sturdiness and sword force, and quartz to balance the combination. Essence poured into Silent Death and the weapon vibrated. Sheela smiled to herself as the vibrations calmed. When the weapon was practically glowing from the density of essence in it, she pulled the trigger.

The weapon jerked in her hand, pushing at her shoulder, but the muffled noise was what she appreciated. It helped preserve her stealth. The loud thunderous sounds Jerome’s other rifles made without the silencer was not for her. The bullet remained in the Shadow dimension, blazing toward the Judge. It exited the Shadow dimension a few feet away from the Judge she had shot at and he should have burst into pieces as her bullet passed through his upper body, leaving only his large legs remaining, which should have toppled over the next moment.

That was probably too much to ask for. The bullet hit the Judge quite alright, but it only sent him sailing into the air. Another Judge intercepted his path. They took their time standing up and roaring furiously, their bodies covered in golden light. From the Shadow dimension, it was all white to her senses.

“One down, three to—” Achilleia was saying as another Judge roared, hitting the old man in the head. The man collapsed like a dead branch cut off a tree. “Shit!”

That was a new one. She had never heard Achilleia curse before. The Sage appeared behind the Judge who hit the old man but a beam of golden light was blasted at him and he disappeared just as quickly as he appeared.

Everything was happening too fast. Sheela remembered Jerome’s words to change positions after a shot if she didn’t want her targets learning her general direction. Even if they did, they couldn’t harm her, as far as she knew. But they wielded ascended elements. She knew not if those beams of golden light could penetrate the Shadow dimension or not.

She Shadow Stepped again, changing direction. When she emerged in her new position, still in the Shadow dimension, the Sage was fighting two Judges off to the side and… was that a clone? She cocked back the charging handle of her rifle and the used cartridge shot out of the chamber, automatically loading another round.

“Impressive. Rihal fought them before, pretending he couldn’t get past their golden barriers,” Achilleia said.

“Rihal?” Sheela saw the clone — or this Rihal, she guessed — dodge a beam of light a moment later before he vanished, giving her an opening. The Judge had his back to her and she aimed for the strange pipe-like contraption behind his head. She took the shot.

The Judge staggered a second later and the Sage’s look-alike sliced through the pipe-like contraption. He picked up the old man and vanished the next moment. Her shot had opened up the opportunity to do so, probably — or at least, that’s what she would like to think. The Sage also vanished, seeing they had accomplished their objective.

“Wasn’t that the Sage?” Sheela asked.

“No, that was his son,” Achilleia said. “Their resemblance is uncanny. Mission accomplished, Sheela. Go back to camp.”

“But there’s—”

Molten steel wrapped around the Judge Rihal had injured. He screamed, blasting golden light from every part of his body. The remaining Judges also shot golden beams of light at the molten steel but it did nothing to stop its progress. The hot molten steel covered him completely and dragged him into the ground.

“O…Kay?”

“Done. Now go, Sheela.”

“That was you, Achilleia, wasn’t it?” Sheela Shadow Stepped, moving through the Shadow dimension at immense speed. It only took her a few seconds to reach their new base in the valley.

“Yes,” Achilleia answered as she materialized out of the shadows of the wall of their new base. “I need some new test subjects.”

“Huh?” That sounded dark.

“Don’t worry about it. You move pretty fast though. How does movement through the shadows work?”

Explosions were going off in the distance and the sun was setting. Whatever battles were going on would end soon. But she knew Jerome had been planning to close the portal — or more like destroy it. And he had been hinting at tonight.

“I honestly don’t know the ‘how’,” she said. “You could discuss it with Jerome. He said a bunch of things about the Shadow dimension in Terra Praeta that even I didn’t know.”

“Oh I would. It’s an interesting place to be.”

Sheela was sure they’d do more than discuss it. But she’d be glad if he could join her in the Shadow dimension, Tara too… and Csala… and Nyx but Nyx scared the shit out of her. If she could, she would have taken her team with her and left the jungle. This was one of the reasons she envied Jerome his ability to teleport others with him.

“Well, the skill comes from the core of the Midnight Panther I absorbed,” she said. “Jerome called it interdimensional travel once. I call it Shadow Step. It’s like stepping through some other world or a layer of one. It’s a scary thing but it’s also about intent and trust — I believe the shadows know my intentions and trust it to carry me to my destination.”

It had taken her a while of objective observation to really get it down to that.

“Listen, Sheela. Don’t tell Jerome about what happened to the old man. He needs to put his head where it needs to be, which is here, this battle, and getting us all out of the jungle.”

“I understand.” Sheela Shadow Stepped again, appearing inside their tent. In front of an angry Jerome glaring down at her. Sheela jumped on him, kissing him wildly. Jerome responded in kind, falling down on their bed.

“Don’t do that again, Sheela. I was scared to death for you,” he said when they came up for air.

Sheela caressed the taut muscles of his biceps, tracing them to commit them to memory. He held onto her waist and combed out her hair with his other hand. His hands were big and strong but she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. She loved the attention he was giving her and wished it would last long, wished they could do more but she knew they had a battle to prepare for. Pleasure could wait.

“I can take care of myself, Jerome. Besides, can’t you see that I’m not fainting anymore like I did in Terra Praeta? I’m a lot stronger now.” Technically, her ‘computation ring’ — as Achilleia calls it — made all the difference.

“I can see that and I’m proud of you. You’ve made great strides.” He pulled her in for another kiss, a long sensuous kiss. “Just be careful, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So, what happened? Achilleia has briefed me but I wanna hear your side as well,” Jerome said.

“Did she tell you Vorthe has assassins who can Shadow step too?”

Jerome pulled her tighter into his embrace. “Tell me about it.”

She went on to explain what happened to him.