Farryn. Estate of House Kreus. The House of Passion.

Jerome was wrong. Or at least, half wrong. It has been three tendays and Doti still felt hungry — in fact, he was hungrier than he used to be. Why did he lie to them about that? When he laid his eyes on Jerome, he was going to give him a piece of his mind, just as Dreamer did. He ate three times every day now. But hunger was always nearby — like a tutor with a whip in hand, waiting for him to make an error.

“Why you do that?” someone asked him and he looked up from where he was cleaning his teeth.

“This?” he pointed to his chewing stick with his other hand and the boy, Five, nodded. Five was as skinny as he was, malnourished from years of not eating. Doti figured he must have lived in a place like the slum but he had never seen him in the parts of the slum he came from.

“It keeps my teeth clean. One of my brothers taught me. Do you want one?” Five shook his head.

“Mouth for eating. Not—” Five said, pointing to his chewing stick to explain the last part of his sentence.

Doti wondered how someone at twelve summers of age wouldn’t know how to speak properly. He was grateful to Jerome for teaching him and his brothers how to read and speak ‘fluently’. Ehn, that was the word. He had to make sure to relearn some of the things — well most of the things — he usually scorned Jerome for when he was trying to teach them.

Doti wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was a tad bit jealous of Jerome…still is. The boy went and became Blank when everybody else was still Drudge. As if that wasn’t enough, he was then taken in by the Royal Family. Did that mean he had to bow his head whenever he was around? Doti scowled. But then laughed at himself.

He will in fact bow to Jerome just to embarrass him. As much as his brother hated standing out, he had a way of standing out more than anyone in any group of people. Yes. New mission for when he meets Jerome. The boys would team up and embarrass him with bows. Doti thought of the look on Jerome’s face and couldn’t help but become giddy again.

His stomach rumbled in hunger, and he grumbled to himself, his mood broken. Wasn’t it hell to now have all the food you want but can’t seem to be satisfied? Thank the heavens for House Kreus, the House of Passion, to which he was a disciple now, he would have died of hunger.

“Let’s go eat,” he said to Five. “The chewing stick is good, you know? Have you seen your reflection? Specif—specifically, the reflection of your teeth?” He still had problems pronouncing certain long words it seemed. But he’d get it next time. He’d show Jerome he wasn’t the only one who could be ‘book smart’ like Jerome always said.

Five looked at him as though he was speaking a foreign language. Doti opened his mouth to show Five his teeth.

“Look…clean and white…see?” Apparently, only using a few words like these was what the novices here understood. All of them were unlearned and ignorant to boot — more Jerome words.

Doti was riding on a phoenix’s wings with this as he was the most educated among the novices. Thirty Drudges were taken in as novices and he was the only educated one. Lord Tega Kreus, lauded him with praise for being educated and knowing how to read, write and count. He had also promised him a woman of his own when he became Sprout. It was the best life he could ever ask for.

Five nodded in understanding and showed his own teeth asking, “Clean?”

Doti shook his head oh so slowly but seriously. He didn’t like being the bearer of bad news but the kid — since when did he start thinking in the words Jerome used — the boy needed to be told. Did he not get toothaches like Jerome called it?

Jerome had always made sure all of them at the orphanage cleaned their teeth. And Moss had confirmed that he had had those aches when he was a child but when he became a sacred artist, the aches disappeared. Doti wasn’t going to risk it though. He might be a sacred artist, but they had been told that as Drudges, they were still in the process of ‘becoming’ sacred artists. That process would take a long time to complete.

They walked toward the freeze house in the west wing of the Passion Estate as they headed for the mess hall. The morning was still cool and the sun wasn’t up yet. The lady who worked in the Gelidarium — the freeze room — always opened her doors around this time.

Doti had always loved looking at her face — and body — whenever he passed by. She was very lovely to look at. And very curvy too. Ms. Tara was nowhere near as beautiful. He turned his thoughts away from Ms. Tara as if she could hear them. If she could, she’d go into a fit of rage right now. The door opened.

“Ooh, our young scribe is awake and going to the mess hall,” the lady smiled lovingly at him. “How was your night, Doti?”

Doti turned the shade of a tomato as he ogled her. She was still in her night robe and her skin and curves were visible underneath. The garment was also transparent and he could see the skin between her legs and…

Doti looked away before his body betrayed him. His gray novice robes were not good enough to hide the evidence if he became aroused — which was happening right at the moment. He coughed, “Miss, please go back inside and cover up.”

“Ooh. Don’t you like what you see?” she teased, smiling coyly at him. Like most of the people here, she didn’t have a name. Just a number.

“Ms. Twenty-One. Five is looking at you,” Doti said, trying to cover his friend’s eyes while still stealing glances at her. Five wasn’t having it. He smacked his hand away and continued ogling the lady.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Twenty-one giggled lightly and sashayed back into the freeze house. “Make sure to come see me later today, Doti.” She winked at him before closing the door.

Doti’s heart raced a mile away. He felt like he was walking on clouds for the rest of the walk to the mess hall. Five was trying to tell him something about not covering his eyes next time but he wasn’t listening. He was in Dreamland, unable to wipe off the stupid grin on his face.

When they got to the mess hall, they got in line and picked up wooden trays. It was time to sate his hungry belly.

~~~

The Northern Mountain Range, Pilgrims’ Keep

Hedon had never seen a Blank move like the one in front of him now. His eyes couldn’t keep up, and neither could his body. It was like the cur was a whole different person from before. He started defending right from the start and was doing a pretty lame job of it. He was starting to lose blood fast, his injuries piling up, and his body’s healing capabilities couldn’t keep up. He almost started regretting picking a fight with this little brat.

What kind of stamina does this brat have? He’s nothing but a monster! Hedon thought to himself as he kept trying and failing to defend himself.

Jerome on the other hand was slipping into oblivion. Although his body was moving and he felt stronger than he ever had, it was like something had woken up inside him, like a beast that wanted only carnage and destruction. He was finding it hard to keep a clear head.

At some point, he had dropped his spear and was fighting bare-handed. Hedon shot back twenty paces away from him looking bloody and disheveled. He was trying to catch his breath and make sure his body healed so he could regain some strength, but Jerome obviously didn’t get the memo.

Jerome arrived in front of Hedon just as fast and punched him in the gut sending him flying more than fifty paces backward. Before Hedon landed, Jerome was there to punch him in the face in the direction he came from. Hedon’s jaw broke, and a few teeth were sent flying out of his mouth as he spun through the air.

Hedon couldn’t think straight. He didn’t know what was going on or what went wrong. The only thing he knew was that he was taking blows mid-air without touching the ground. Jerome’s punches were so heavy that almost every bone in his body got broken before he landed on the floor in a crumpled heap unable to move a muscle.

Is it over? he thought to himself, or did he ask it out loud? He couldn’t tell. He tried to speak but his voice sounded choked. His jaw hurt badly. Every part of his body hurt like hell. He shed silent tears at the injustice.

~~~

Jerome was filled with confusion and regret as he looked back on the violent outburst that had led him to beat up Hedon. He couldn’t quite comprehend how he had let his emotions get the best of him. He distinctly remembered picking up his spear, but never using it, and he couldn’t recall how he had managed to restrain himself.

Hedon choked continuously like his throat was crushed.

“He needs air,” Someone said as the Blanks gathered around him. Two of the Blanks were wearing the same family crest as Hedon and were stealing glances at Jerome with a mixture of fear and awe.

“Just let him sit up and breathe…just breathe, young master Hedon.”

Aware that he needed to distance himself from the situation before things spiraled out of control, Jerome took a deep breath, picked up his spear, and dove into the cool waters of the lake. Hopefully, Hedon learns his lesson and doesn’t come after him any longer. His injuries shouldn’t be too hard to heal. When fighting with Rihal, Jerome healed most of his injuries in roughly a hundred breaths.

But what exactly had gotten into him? He wasn’t one to lose himself to anger like that, so where did that come from?

The sensation of the water embracing him was calming, and he swam to the bottom of the lake, where he found a good spot and sat down, closing his eyes. For a long time, he remained there, lost in thought, finding solace in the serenity of the underwater world.

The muffling of sound from the surface by the water was also a welcome distraction. The creatures that inhabited the lake seemed to avoid him like a plague as if they could sense his inner demon. Jerome welcomed their absence, grateful for the chance to be alone with his thoughts.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he resurfaced, finding that the sun had set, and the shore was deserted. Jerome was in awe of his ability to hold his breath for over a fourth of the day. That was more or less three hours by his calculations. The kind of lung capacity it would take to hold his breath for that long would be called supernatural on Earth, but here it was a normal thing.

He set about building a fire to provide light and warmth. He dried his armor a ways away from the fire so as to prevent too much heat from drying it too quickly. That would leave a shrunken, shapeless mass which would be less than convenient to wear.

There wasn’t much he could do about the tear in the armor. A nearly nine-inch cut split the upper sleeve of the left arm. He’d just have to wear it like that, maybe find a piece of cloth to wrap around it later.

He sharpened the blade of his spear, lost in thought, and was filled with a deep sense of regret for the way he had acted towards Hedon. He should have at least tried to settle things amicably first.

Jerome waited up for a long time before sleep took him. With his armor still wet, he put it on. He couldn’t as well, sleep out in the open without protection. He stored his spear and whetstone, got dressed, and settled down to rest for the night. Though it was uncomfortable to sleep with wet, soaking leather on, it was better than being unprotected. The events of the day weighed heavily on his mind as the night lulled him to sleep.

~~~

Somewhere millions of lightyears away from Jerome’s world, on an asteroid deep in space and floating through the void, sat a young man, cross-legged and meditating. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, but his demeanor was that of an ancient being. He wore a white loose robe that made him look like he was born amongst the stars themselves. This was the Sovereign of the Kingdom of Vorthe and the Patriarch of the Royal family, Yun Vorthe.

Interesting, Yun Vorthe thought as his consciousness was stirred out of his deep meditation. It has only been thirteen years and it has started to awaken. He looked in the direction of his home world and his eyes glowed with a golden light.

The seed of darkness I planted inside that woman thirteen years ago should not have sprouted yet. There are still nine more years left before the darkness awakens in the woman’s offspring. And yet he could sense the beast, rear its head. Was this a sign?

The Dark One is rising, he thought. It is time to head back home and prepare my house and kingdom for the inevitable.