The Royal Estate. Farryn

Rihal

“Anything yet?” Kilian asked as they browsed through the books Jerome had read in the library.

Rihal shook his head in silent concentration. His mind wasn’t on the book in his hand though — even though he was reading through. They had gathered all the books Jerome had ever read in Kilian’s library and were going through them one after the other. But nothing they had read so far indicated that his disciple had learned the strange things he spoke about from these books.

So where had he learned them from?

Kilian sighed, dropping the book he just finished reading. Which happened to be the last book in the pile. “Nothing in here points to any special rock that can attract metal.”

“You know, once when we were training, he used a combination of moves I had never seen before.”

Kilian shrugged. “You said he was learning fast.”

“He was still Blank at the time. You know what he called the moves? Muay Thai — ‘The Art of Eight Limbs’.”

“Muay … Thai?” Kilian asked. “Never heard of it.”

“He said he invented it. Then I told him to use the washroom after training,” Rihal said, eyes distant. “He said they never bathed in ‘algae-infested’ waters in the slums.”

“‘Al-gee’?” Kilian asked. “What’s that? Some kind of … disease.”

“The green plant-matter that grows in the public washrooms. Or anywhere with a lot of moisture.”

“Rihal, I’ve never heard of these terms before. And I’m a scholar.”

“That’s my point exactly,” Rihal said, looking at him pointedly.

Kilian pushed himself away from the wall he was resting on as realization dawned on him. “Once is happenstance. Twice is a coincidence. Thrice … there’s something more going on.”

“And I intend to find out. The question is how? Everyone that ever knew him besides us; the family he grew up with are either dead or missing — according to him.”

“If he didn’t grow up learning those things, did he have knowledge of them before he was born?” Kilian muttered to himself in thought.

Rihal looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Now don’t be silly, Kilian. Are you saying he was born with knowledge?”

“Sounds plausible.”

“That’s too long of a stretch.”

“Well, you said it yourself; he’s always been frighteningly smart.” Kilian went around Rihal to sit behind his table. He began counting off his fingers. “He’s been smart since he could read; he’s always had excellent coordination of his limbs, he thinks and acts like a mature person, and he never learned any of the things he’s spouting from you or the library or anywhere else. People aren’t born knowing things, Rihal. Or are they?

“Maybe that’s the question we should be asking ourselves; ‘are there people out there that are born with a pre-knowledge of things’?”

“No,” Rihal answered. Kilian gave him a look and he just shrugged.

“But here is one who breaks that convention.”

“Don’t you think you’re coming to conclusions too fast?”

“I’m theorizing, Rihal. It’s what scholars do in research. If I’m wrong, I’ll drop it.”

“Well, we aren’t getting anywhere with your theories, are we?”

“Have anything better?”

Rihal kept mute, trying to think. But he had nothing. Where did he go to find answers on something like this. His master wouldn’t even give him the time of the day. He was among those monitoring the changes happening in the frozen north.

“I could go to the frozen north … talk to my master about it.”

Kilian snorted. “You think he’d give you a listening ear? Noir’s death site is more important than this, Rihal. Besides, if you go there you may just end up dead.”

“I’m quite resourceful,” Rihal defended.

“Let me talk to my master. The old crone has been studying Zamara’s texts all her life, something she discovered on an expedition to the northern mountains.”

“The 1st Matron has Zamara’s texts? … the same Zamara? Keeper of Secrets and Truths?” Rihal asked, befuddled. They just might be able to get some answers. “I guess she isn’t the 1st Matron of the Academe for nothing.”

The Royal Academe. That’s where all their scholars study. If he could meet with the 1st Matron…

“Relax, Rihal. It’s sensitive information. I’m only telling you this because you’re my friend and a member of the Nediti. She must never find out that you know, else we’d both be in trouble.”

Rihal nodded solemnly. “I’ll never tell anyone else, Kilian.”

“Very well. Let me try to reach her with my rune first.”

~~~

Sacred artists may not need sleep but it didn’t mean they didn’t like the activity. Sleep was good. It helped to rest the mind, and right now, all Jerome wanted to do was sleep. It wasn’t too much to ask for. He had climbed up a tree to seek solace from the rest of the world, but just now, a roar from a distance shattered the serenity of the night. All the creatures within a quarter-mile radius must have been awoken by that roar because different sounds bloomed all around him, waking him up from sleep.

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The animals must be nervous. Whatever that was must be a very powerful creature. Jerome kept sharp eyes peeled in the direction of the roar cursing in irritation under his breath. The croaks and songs of the insects around him were almost deafening so he had to rely on his eyes.

“...faster!”

Jerome sat upright as he heard that. Someone … or a few people were coming this way. No. Better to assume they were being chased in this direction, he concluded.

He could hear them clearly now. Though, they were still some distance away. Jerome took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. His core was spinning so fast that if Rihal was here to sense it, he’d be shocked.

“Just keep running randomly…never in a stra—”

Another thunderous roar split up the night sky, and Jerome heard some birds shriek as they flapped their wings flying away from their places of rest.

The creature’s footsteps could be heard now, and Jerome determined that it was something he didn’t want to face. Its footsteps were fast. Jerome took to the skies, planning on watching without interfering. He could see them now and it turned out to be House Fei — House of the Dragon Fang.

Their armored robes were quite different in style to Vorthe’s: dark blue leather armor laced with small metals in various shapes here and there, including their helmets which flared out at the base — those metals could be some kind of defensive wards. They each carried two long curved swords at their waists as they ran. Something that seemed impractical when storage rings were available. One could lose a precious weapon as he ran.

“This is just the first night. Is this how we’re going to live for two years?!” Someone from the team of Sprouts complained.

“Brace yourself,” another said, “It’ll only get worse.” He dodged a tree that was thrown at them, unsheathing and sheathing one of his swords so fast it was impossible for Jerome to follow with his eyes. Bits of foliage and debris in their path were blown to pieces before the team reached them.

Was that a kind of technique? Jerome thought, surprised. This was probably why they carried their weapons on their person, instead of inside their storage rings.

That Sprout was older than the others on the team, he could tell. And from the looks of it, stronger too — he had quite the muscular arms. He had positioned himself at the back of his team, between all the other Sprouts and the monster, covering their backs, while still getting rid of obstacles in their path as they raced forward.

Jerome would have loved to scan this Sprout to find out how powerful he was but he couldn’t because of the distance between them. He watched them scurry around, trying to get out of the range of the monster, which was a lot bigger than the two he had killed. The heir of the Fei clan, Fei Lin, slashed at the monster with her sword from a distance to protect one of her teammates. The monster roared in pain and went after her.

Jerome remembered feeling a little envy toward her during the Royal Banquet. Now though, he couldn’t help but feel gratitude. They weren’t capable of fleeing with their flight artifacts out of fear of attracting predators with their essence. He on the other hand didn’t need essence to fly.

~~~

Lang

“Princess!” Lang exclaimed and shot forward to intercept the monster. The moment his hand touched the hilt of his sword, he activated the Formless Blade, unsheathing and sheathing his sword in the blink of an eye.

The Child went down on one knee as the popliteus behind its left knee was shredded. It roared in pain, unable to move that leg anymore.

“Princess, stop!” Lang screamed. The rest of their teammates also screamed for her to stop. The Child had been neutralized but Lang watched as the princess ran forward and utilized the Formless Blade.

Fuck!

The Child seemed to comprehend the danger it was in and quickly shielded its face by crossing its giant arms in front of itself. The Formless Blade slashed the back of its forearms drawing stinky yellow blood. The Child jerked in pain but soon smelled the vitality of the blood dripping from Fei Lin’s palms — the consequences of using a technique that was above her level of skill!

It lunged for her and its head exploded in a flash of blue light. Splattering stinky yellow blood everywhere.

“Princess!” Lang shouted with worry as he came around the fallen body of the Child. The stench almost made him puke. He quickly covered his nose and stepped back, distancing himself from the smell.

“Someone get me water,” the princess said through gritted teeth. She had actually puked and was covered from head to toe in yellowish gore and brain matter.

“Urgh. Smells like soured eggs mixed with ten-day-old piss,” she grumbled, wiping her face.

“You should be grateful you’re not dead, Princess,” Fei Yan, another teammate said looking at her with a mocking smile — from a distance. She quickly extracted a water gourd from her storage ring and began shaking it.

Lang looked at the Child in shock, unable to fathom how the Princess must have taken its head, but a careful scan of it quickly told him the creature was killed with fire essence.

“Who killed it?” Lang asked. They owed that person a life debt.

“I don’t—” Fei Lin was saying when she was bathed in an enormous wave of water. The rest of the girls in their team quickly surrounded her shooing the boys away.

“I don’t know who killed it,” she said again.

“Well, whoever they are, I hope they’re not foes,” Lang said as he turned to face away from the princess. The bushes in front of him shook and out walked another Child with skin as deathly pale as a corpse.

“Zatirah’s fangs, you’ve got to be shitting me!” One of the boys exclaimed even as he drew his weapon. Lang attacked.

~~~

Selene

“Wake up, wake up, you lot. It’s an assault!” Selene kicked her sleeping teammates in the legs as she noticed one of the Children that had attacked them tonight.

“Oh, for fucks sake!” her brother Ajax cursed in annoyance. This was the third attack in this never-ending night and it seemed like they’d be doing this forever. This clearing was only found by chance and everyone wanted to have a good sleep before facing anything or anyone else.

“You’re an Itakar, Ajax. Act like it!” she screamed at him as she nocked her bow with an arrow. She pulled on the bowstring with unbelievable strength and the arrowhead froze over as she exhaled, her sharp eyes looking straight ahead into the distance.

“Twenty yards and closing in,” Trudhorn Itakar, one of her fifth cousins standing beside her, stated. He was the spotter for their team. And her protector. More than that he was a rock in troubled times. His voice calmed her and she felt assured beside him. “Don’t you think the night is a little darker than it should be?” Trudhorn asked.

“It’s Terra Praeta’s doing … maybe,” Selene answered, unsure as she let the arrow loose. Her arrow whizzed through the air and pierced through the creature carrying it ten paces away into a tree where it froze over with some parts of its body cracking but not shattering. It hung there motionless like an ice statue. Dead.

Terra Praeta hadn’t been described to her in full detail. No book she read could have prepared her for a night so dark it felt like a void. In fact, her mother, Arwen Itakar, had said to expect the unexpected. She could hear the rest of her teammates pulling their bows behind her to take aim as well which was comforting.

There was no celestial body in the sky; just darkness that seemed as deep as the void. Selene wondered if this was what her mother meant when she instructed her to find daylight? But even at that, she wasn’t expecting a total void in the sky. She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.

“What is it?” Trudhorn asked, gazing at her with beautiful, soft blue eyes.

“This … is the Night of Terra Praeta. The Matriarch mentioned it in a passing comment that I didn’t understand at the time.”