Jerome took to the skies as soon as he left Farryn through the southern gate.

‘Leave the city and keep going south until the aura in the air hurts your eyes and skin. Make any move to contact the Royals and you’ll never see them all again,’ Hedon’s note had said.

Jerome flew as fast as he could. He flew over farmlands and cattle ranches; over small settlements and villages. But all thoughts of enjoying the flight were non-existent in his mind. The wind blew past him as he zoomed through the sky. The darkness of the night was a good enough cover so people didn’t notice him in the air. But being noticed was the furthest thing from his mind right now.

After a long while, his eyes began to hurt, and water uncontrollably. He also felt a prickling sensation on his skin. It was uncomfortable but not to the extent of being unbearable.

I must be getting closer, he thought as his heart pounded in his ribcage. He didn’t notice that the rush of adrenaline was making him lose focus on his environment. The only thought on his mind was to see his family again.

Over a thousand paces away from him was a very long unnaturally-formed canyon. The canyon spread out in a straight line from northeast to southwest, he couldn’t see the end on both sides from his altitude in the air. Jerome hit the ground and took off running straight towards the canyon, praying in his heart that his family was still alive and well.

Who would have known that Hedon would do something like this? Jerome never saw him after their fight at the beginning of the pilgrimage, so he probably spent only a day in Pilgrims’ Keep. He had had almost a year to plan and capture all of them with no one the wiser!

Fuck!

And how did he capture his friends who were already disciples of other Houses? Did he buy them? That must be the case. Buying people was not unheard of in ancient societies. He had to convince the Alvric heir to let them go, no matter what!

What aura is this? Jerome thought. The intensity of the aura in the air was stronger now and he had to wipe his eyes from time to time as he ran.

Bang!

Someone hit him on the head when he was only a few dozen paces away from the edge of the canyon and he tumbled over. Pain shot up his spine. The pain was dizzying, but he forced himself not to pass out.

“Hedon! This is between me and—!”

Bang!

He took another hit in his side and he felt his ribs crack. Jerome turned to lie on his side as he coughed uncontrollably. He reached for the mind-calming stone — in a specially made pocket in his robes over his heart — and the pain clouding his mind receded just enough for him to make out his assailants.

Someone kicked him in the jaw and he was lifted off the ground, and spun in the air. Just before hitting the ground, Jerome stretched out his hand and Suzie lashed out as quickly as lightning.

“Urgh,” his assailant grunted and tried to get away from him. But the flowing steel wrapped around his leg and pierced his skin, draining the iron in his blood in a few breaths of time.

“Adama’s gauntlets! Heavens, he’s bonded with Adama’s gauntlets!” Someone exclaimed.

“Stop gawking and attack!” Hedon roared some distance away.

“Hedon, we can talk about—” he was saying but Hedon’s goons rushed him in a pincer attack.

Jerome dodged a fist, maneuvering around to kick out at another. His legs gave as he was kicked in the knee. There were at least six Blanks assaulting him at once. He tried to stay calm and clear-headed but the pain was all that occupied his mind. Jerome took stock of his increasing wounds as punches and kicks rained upon him. He quickly released Suzie and another Blank dropped dead.

“Damn you!” someone roared as the Blanks shot backward. That was two Blanks dead and no one wanted to risk it anymore.

Hedon cursed out loud. His father was going to punish him for losing two Blanks in one night. He quickly dragged out one of his hostages with him from his hiding place, ten or more paces away from the fight. One of the newly promoted Drudges he’d bought from some Third-Tier family he couldn’t remember.

“Hedon, there’s no need for this,” Jerome called out as he stood up with a busted knee. His body wasn’t healing fast enough and it frustrated him. His mind was a mess as fear threatened to drown him — fear for what must have happened to his family.

“You have no right to speak to me, you peasant!” Hedon roared as he dragged his captive along, coming closer. They both kicked up dust into the air blocking them from view for a moment.

Doti. Jerome’s heart went cold as rage reared its head. He tried to hold it back but the urge to unleash it was strong. He wanted to become a monster and tear every one of the Alvrics apart!

“What did you think was going to happen? You assault the heir of a Great Clan and think there are no consequences?!” Hedon said as he unsheathed his sword, holding it against his captive’s throat.

“Hedon, let him go. Let them all go, you have me now,” Jerome said with great restraint as he tried to keep the venom out of his voice. He reached for the mind-calming stone but someone hit him on the head. Jerome went down on one knee.

Who was that? he thought. That punch was really heavy, damn it!

“Je…rome,” Doti tried to speak.

“Don’t speak Doti, it’ll all be ok. Everything‘s gonna be just fine,” he assured as he tried to keep blood out of his eyes. His skull had cracked from the last hit and he was on the verge of passing out from the pain.

Doti had lost a lot of blood. Both his arms were broken and Jerome could sense that he couldn’t cycle to get rid of whatever had paralyzed his core. He could also smell the piss and sweat on him. He thought about how long his family had been held captive and his anger rose again.

No. Must stay clear-headed, he thought to himself.

“Let them go? I’m here to teach you a lesson!” Hedon roared in anger. “You’ve got to own up to the consequences of your actions! You think because you’ve got the Royal family behind you, you can act however you feel?!

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“Against me you’re nothing! Nothing I say!

“For I am Alvric!

“I am the boisterous storm!

“Sharthu could never tame me!”

Warning bells began to go off in Jerome’s head. What’s going on? he thought. He could feel wind essence begin to swirl around Hedon like it was embracing him as his robe billowed out around him.

“N’tdaea brought his legions against me!

“Like a great wave, he rose up to trample me!”

“But where is Sharthu?!

“Where is N’tdaea?!”

Jerome was starting to feel mounting pressure from Hedon. He could tell that those weren’t ordinary words the teenager was spitting. He could also tell that Doti was still a Drudge, and wouldn’t last long under such pressure.

Doti straightway crumbled from the pressure Hedon was releasing. He hadn’t eaten in days; he had been beaten and pissed on and mocked, and he couldn’t take anymore. His eyes and skin hurt really bad from the aura in the air. Add to that the crippling pressure from his captor and every muscle in his body went limp. Hedon was literally holding him up.

Hedon put more force in his sword hand, drawing blood from his captive’s neck. He continued with his utterance when he noticed Jerome tensing up, preparing to attack.

“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—”

Hedon cut through Doti’s throat.

~~~

Doti did not want to believe what was happening. His captor threw him off the cliff down into the canyon, blood spraying out of his neck like a fountain as Jerome ran toward Hedon. He tried to cycle but it was like trying to walk through a brick wall.

Why did you have to offend someone so powerful? Doti thought. He was angry. Angry at Jerome, at the psychotic teenager who held him and his family hostage. He was angry at himself for being weak. He’d been wanting to show Jerome what he was capable of now; to show him that he could now keep up when next they took on the blind man in the slums.

He’d been sold and for many tendays, he’d been kept captive. Unable to escape, unable to fight for himself. Until the rest of his friends were brought to join him in his misery. Where were all the promises that were made to him? What happened to the trust that Patriarch Kreus, the Patriarch of the House of Passion, placed in him?

At least you can fight to save the rest of our family, he thought and his anger toward Jerome faded away. Darkness threatened to consume him but he held onto life with his will, wanting to live even for a few more breaths.

The faces of his friends and siblings flitted through his mind’s eye. He recalled the hard times they had together. The times they went out to scavenge for resources. How Jerome helped to dress their wounds when anyone bled from cuts. Jerome had always been the one to take care of them anytime they ventured out, to defend them in times of trouble. And now he was fighting for them again.

Doti heard the sound of rushing water before he hit the river beneath him. Just before he lost consciousness he saw someone else being thrown off the cliff.

“No,” he wanted to scream, but his voice came out as a whisper.

~~~

Hedon wielded his sword with great dexterity as he dodged the whip-like strings from Jerome’s flowing steel gauntlets.

“Each and every one of your friends will suffer before their death, Jerome,” he slashed at Jerome’s newly healed knee, drawing blood. “It’s inevitable.”

Jerome rushed forward, pushing down the pain, as he tried to move past Hedon and his goons. After Doti got thrown off the cliff, Hedon’s goons started bringing out his friends to stab and throw them off the cliff. The sad thing was their wounds weren’t fatal. If the fall didn’t kill them, the bleeding would.

They made sure he watched as they selected those they sent to their demise. But they left Ms. Tara for later. Ms. Tara who was a woman in her prime. These whoremongers want to have their way with her! Never! He realized their plans as he pushed through the haze in his mind for clarity. But his mind was becoming clouded by rage every moment he didn’t touch the mind-calming stone.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. You better hurry now, little fish,” someone taunted him from behind and they all laughed.

Hedon struck again, making sure to avoid the steel whips. He was way faster than he was before. Jerome raised his hand to block as he watched them stab Dreamer in the gut and toss him off the cliff.

He transformed the whip in his other hand into a blade and stabbed at Hedon who shot back with quick reflexes. Jerome followed him as they exchanged blows. But Hedon was a lot faster, his weapon heavier. Jerome attacked low, transforming the gauntlets into a makeshift spear.

“You’re a very skilled sacred artist, Jerome,” Hedon praised as he dodged the spear. “Unfortunately for you, being skilled enough,”—Hedon countered with the sheer force of his will, his aura thickening to almost suffocation — “...is not enough to save your friends.”

Jerome’s knee gave and his spear transformed back into gauntlets as the pressure from Hedon increased. He felt like he was fighting against a wave of the sea. Hedon hacked down with his sword and Jerome leaned away, just enough to avoid injury to his face.

The slash still took a chunk of skin off his face. It cut through his robe at the chest area and Jerome felt the mind-calming stone crumble. No! No, no, no! He had no other way to calm himself if he lost control.

He limped backward as he watched Whisper and another kid being stabbed. The haze in his mind was becoming too difficult to hold back, his rage threatening to break free of his control.

Jerome lashed out, catching Hedon off guard. A steel whip wrapped around his neck but before Jerome could tighten it, someone slashed at the whip, breaking it in two. Jerome felt pain shoot up his mind. His connection to Suzie was a soul bond. Any damage to the artifact was damage to him.

The beast took over.

~~~

Hedon once more experienced the strangeness of Jerome from Pilgrims’ Keep. The boy became faster and stronger all of a sudden, like he was another person. He fought savagely as Hedon expected, ignoring defense as he stacked up on injuries.

“Don’t you care for your life, you beast?!” Hedon said, making sure to keep the cur at a distance. Even his blows had gotten heavier with every attack. Hedon clipped him in the jaw with a fist and Jerome clawed at his face with sharp steel-tipped nails.

“Bastard!” Hedon struck faster and faster. He stabbed at Jerome’s ribs drawing blood. Flesh and muscle gave way but the blade of the sword got stuck.

Jerome held onto his sword, pinning it down with his right arm as he stabbed Hedon with a transformed gauntlet. Hedon moved. Fast. One moment he was in front of Jerome. The next moment, he punched him in the throat from the side. Jerome turned to face him, ignoring the pain and relinquishing his hold on the sword. But Hedon had moved again. He kicked Jerome’s knee, shattering it completely.

One of the Sprouts Hedon came with, put a hand on his shoulder holding him back as another put down Jerome, restraining his core.

“We’ve got company,” the Sprout whispered in Hedon’s ear.