On one afternoon, when the number of people—while still many—had decreased enough to let people move around in the infirmary without any problems, there came a loud knocking noise on the entrance of the room.
“Lord General Nohcam has arrived!” announced the guard at the front, and the people inside immediately looked back to see what was going on. Shaden quickly finished healing the person in line and looked to the entrance as well.
Two finely dressed guards came in first—their coats made of dark, wyvern leather—and a stocky man, a finger taller than most, strode in, a sword strapped to his waist and an ornate breastplate placed on his chest. His hair, while graying, did not magnify his age. Rather, it made him appear sturdier, like steel wool growing around a rectangular boulder of stone. His eyes were unwavering, though their sharpness had declined with age.
When the people saw the man, they moved out of the way, bowing their heads. Judging by the whispers and murmurs Shaden could hear, the general was not someone they feared, unlike a certain prince he’d met. Everyone began leaving the room after the two guards glared them down, and by the time the general had sat down in front of Shaden, there were a total of five people in the room—Shaden, General Nohcam, his two guards, and Kortuya, who nervously watched with eyes that were wider than usual.
He’d suggested greeting the general with respect, but Shaden didn’t like lowering his head to people. Were not the Jakhar Kishaks on the same level as the Watayurks? And he, being the heir, was above them.
Nevertheless, Shaden got up from his seat. Foreign land, foreign customs. He hadn’t had those problems when he’d been a tourist.
“Welcome,” Shaden greeted. “Do you need a place to be healed?”
“Do not waste your energy on a relic such as myself. Save it for the less fortunate,” General Nohcam spoke, and they both sat down together. “So, I have heard of you as the Green Child. How many have you healed? I suppose it would be in the thousands.”
“A little short of ten thousand, my lord,” Kortuya answered.
“There is not one resident in the Wall who has not heard of you,” General Nohcam said, “and our population is in the tens of thousands. While not here, many of them lay in their beds, dreaming of a chance to meet you.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“But I have said it. You must still fill your quota. Killing a Royal wyvern—” the general shook his head, “I am surprised you were given this task. And you are near completion. They have not told me who you were, except that you were in the care of the Jakhar Kishaks.”
“Do you know them well?”
“Of course I know them well. The jerky we eat is from their animals. They have sent me a hawk speaking well of you, but that is beside the point.”
The man put his hands together and placed them on the table. They hit the surface with a solid thump.
“I would like for you to heal the ones in their beds,” the man spoke solidly, and each word felt like a block of stone falling on sand—hard, but without cracks. “The old, the sick, the wounded—those who have no one to carry them here. That is my request.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Shaden told him with a nod. “But when I heal ten thousand people, will you let me go?”
“I will,” the man promised. “If you will go, you shall.”
“Will you give me a ride, so that I won’t die in the desert?”
“You will leave with a caravan that frequents Antafar.”
“What proof will I get that my price has been paid?”
“My seal and signature, as well as a gift for His Majesty. It will be proof enough.”
Shaden nodded, satisfied. The man didn’t seem to be lying, and his words sounded trustworthy. There was a certain benignity in his eyes that he’d frequently seen in grandfathers. Similar to Mayarrack, but this man was sterner.
“I will heal the people,” Shaden said. “I will heal all of them. To be honest, I was trying to keep count of them, in case you would try and deceive me. But now, when you see that everyone in the Wall has been healed, you will know that it was me. And you will let me go.”
“Everyone?” The man smiled. “To walk through the entirety of the Wall would take weeks.”
“I have my ways. So, would that be okay?”
“What more could I ask for? Do as you’ve said, and you will return to Antafar. It was a pleasure to meet you, boy from the west.”
When the man got up, Shaden got up as well. After the general and his guards had left, people began to crowd in again, and Shaden sat back down on his chair and stretched his arms.
The man seemed likable. He was reasonable. Shaden had been worried that they’d demand that he remained at the Wall, but he’d gotten his promise, as well as his witnesses. Things would end simply, after all. He hated finding himself in complications.
“Guess it’s all good in the end…” he muttered to himself.
He’d asked Riley and Rhyne how they would have reacted if they were in his shoes during the weekend.
“It’s your dream, right? You’re omnipotent. Just wreck them all,” Rhyne had said casually with a shrug. “I mean, I’d hate to see jerks in my dreams. There was this one guy in middle school—”
“It’s another reality, right?” Riley had murmured. “I don’t know. You’ve told us that it feels very real. And you can’t go back in time. If they’re like real people, then I wouldn’t want to do something I’d regret.”
“But he’s omnipotent. He could go back in time if he wanted to.”
“He’s not. He told us that. He’s just very powerful compared to others. But not omnipotent. Right, Demund?”
He didn’t know. Was he? As great as his powers were, he couldn’t do something his mind couldn’t grasp. There were some rules to how far he could go, but what those were, he didn’t exactly know. He could also transfer what he learned into the real world—though just a mere imitation for now—so he couldn’t do the impossible, like moving the whole planet.
Riley was right. There was no going back once he’d done something. But there was also truth in Rhyne’s words. This was a dream world, and he was powerful. And power had to be used for him to be comfortable.
Shaden began to heal the patients again after they’d lined up while Kortuya kept count. But that would end tonight. As soon as his ride to the capital was secured, he would return and enjoy his lighthearted life once more. Sure, the Wall had been interesting, and venturing east would be fun, but he’d seen and experienced enough. Ancient temples, hidden treasure amid giant monsters and legendary beasts—one day, he’d find them, but for now, he’d rest. Make friends, take care of his wyvern, whatnot.
Shaden smiled.
Perhaps he was growing older.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
“Alright,” Shaden whispered, “let’s go. Make sure to be quiet.”
It didn’t particularly matter because his magic was enveloping both of them, but Kibra didn’t know that. He didn’t have to know that they were being cloaked in darkness.
Kibra nodded. “Yes! This is fun.”
The boy’s whisper was louder than his normal speaking, but Shaden was glad Kibra was in high spirits. He’d grown some sympathy for the boy who had been born and raised in the Wall. The greatest form of treasure he knew was plants, and the best form of entertainment was raising plants. The plays, the festivals, the foods, the architecture, the rivers, the lakes, the trees, the animals, the world—it was likely that he’d never see them.
He wanted to show him something special. Something out of the ordinary. Something he’d remember. Then, there would be some meaning to the fact that he’d been sent here for defending himself.
He needed something to lessen the anger, to completely forget about it.
Fill my mind with happy memories, and I’ll be able to have fun again.
Kibra was breathing heavily by the time they reached the top of the Wall, and Shaden made sure to not run into any guards to make it less suspicious for Kibra. The top of the Wall was sparsely lit, and he spotted patrols walking along in pairs while others kept watch on their posts. There were around a quarter of the people there would be during the day.
They hid behind a stack of spears while Kibra caught his breath behind the shadows.
“I’ve never done this before,” he huffed, wiping his forehead. “Whew, it’s colder up here. Do you think people fall off the edge?”
“Of the Wall?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe, but that’s why there are fences.”
“I’m a little scared,” Kibra admitted. “I’d rather stay on the earth. Can you feel the wind?”
“Just a little breeze, that’s all.”
Kibra shivered. “But we’re here. Now what? Do we go back?” He glanced at the darkness beyond the torches. “I think I’ve seen enough.”
“Would you like to fly?” Shaden asked.
“Fly?” Kibra’s mouth stretched into a wide grin. “Is that why you brought me here?”
“Well, yeah. That and something else.”
“Everyone wants to fly like the wyverns and birds. I...think I want to fly.” The boy rubbed his arms. “Wow, it’s cold.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Give me a moment to think.”
Kibra inhaled and sighed deeply, blowing the warmed air into his clothes. He took one last look at the darkness before answering.
“Sure,” he decided. “Why not. But not too fast, okay? Are we going to ride a wyvern?”
Shaden hadn’t thought of that. It would be great to fly on Grak’s back, but today wyverns weren’t available.
“No,” he answered. “Just pure magic.”
“Woah!”
Kibra yelped when their bodies were lifted from the ground, floating up as a balloon would. Tensely, he tried to put all four limbs on a solid surface—and they met an invisible platform that surrounded the two boys. Quickly, his panic turned into awe, but as they ascended farther, his fear intensified.
“If we go too far, we won’t make it back!” he pleaded as the Wall grew farther away from them. “The wyverns will get us.”
“Relax, I’m in control. Trust me,” Shaden assured. “We won’t go far.”
Kibra relaxed a bit after seeing Shaden leisurely sitting in the air, and he too sat down and looked around him, though with jittery head turns. When they were around ten meters above the Wall, Shaden stopped.
They weren’t technically flying, but being lifted. He’d created an invisible forcefield in the shape of a box around them and had simply brought it up by supporting it on the Wall. Flying—as in, freely moving through the air—was something he had yet to achieve.
He’d attempted flying. But for some reason, he’d always needed a solid anchor to float, and he couldn’t be the anchor to himself. He’d tried anchoring the air, but air was never stationary.
Someday, he’d learn. Flying magic existed; he’d seen it at the Great Library. He still hated himself for not asking about it, but he’d get his hands on it one day.
“It’s warm here,” Kibra commented, stretching his legs. “That’s weird. And no wind.”
“Magic,” Shaden told him. “Now, watch while I show you something cool.”
Kibra nodded. He was still hesitant to look directly below him, but his body was less tense now. His eyes watched Shaden, examining his every move.
Shaden closed his eyes. Never had he done something of this scale before. But he knew he could do it. It was something he’d done for years; he just had to push it to the next step.
It began as a small sphere in his hands that expanded below him, growing in size as it descended. Controlling mana was like second nature to him now. Shaden stretched it, nurtured it, poured his mana into it—and it began to fill the Wall, beginning from the area below him. A few guards swung their heads around when the mana touched their bodies, but they would never be able to see its source.
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The quicker he did it, the better. There was a figurative hole through which the mana came out of himself. Shaden widened it a hundred times, and his mana exploded out, swirling into the mass of energy that continued to imbue the Wall.
Quicker, faster. The untouched mass of magic under his control flew through the halls, the stairs, the walls, the rooms, the people—everything in the Wall. It was so large, and Shaden was slightly frightened that he would lose control of himself, but his mind was holding on somehow. There was so much pure power, so much space that he was sensing. The Wall was huge, but he wanted to do this in one go.
“Shaden? You’re glowing!” Kibra laughed, clapping his hands. “The Wall is glowing!”
Shaden opened his eyes. Indeed, it was. Light was a sign that some of his power was seeping out as waste, and he was glad that it wasn’t heat, but light. He concentrated, and the light dimmed.
Three things at once: filling the Wall, circulating, and keeping them afloat. He knew he was stretching his limits, but he hadn’t met any limits yet.
Just a little more—
He’d reached the northern end of the Wall. A few more seconds and—
“The sea?” Shaden muttered. The southern end was connected to the sea. But now he was complete. He felt lightheaded, and his body felt like it was about to explode in a pleasant way, but he’d done it. He couldn’t even see where the ends of the Wall were, but he could sense everything within it.
Too many sensations. It was like looking at a thousand grains of salt. He could see them all, but there was no way he could tell them apart individually all at once.
Was what he was doing a mistake? This much raw power—he didn’t know how it would affect the people.
But there was no going back.
With his index finger, he let healing magic touch the gargantuan mass of mana he was holding.
The Wall erupted into a ghostly green, and even from the sky, behind a forcefield, Shaden could hear the cries.
“What is that!” Kibra shouted, unable to control his excitement. “It’s like green fire!”
“Calm down,” Shaden whispered, mostly telling himself. Kibra couldn’t hear the cries. It was his mana that was letting him know.
He continued to hold the magic, feeling the mana burn away as the spell of recovery continued to latch onto the people, sucking the energy from the ocean of power that had been prepared.
“It’s not enough?!” Shaden exclaimed, noticing the dots of pain throughout the Wall.
Twice. Four times. Double that—he expanded his gateway to terrifying extents. He’d read about how using too much mana could kill him.
But strangely of all, he felt incredible. The bottom of the well he’d hoped to see was nowhere in sight.
It was easier to supply the ocean of mana once it had been created. The healing greedily consumed wave after wave of energy, seeping into those who desired it. Some were resisting the magic, but Shaden didn’t mind. He was only being forceful enough so that the spell would be able to heal without barriers. If anyone was circulating, he was sure it wouldn’t affect them.
After a good minute of drowning everyone in green, Shaden let go. The moment his connection to the ocean was broken, it dissipated like gas released into a strong wind, disappearing within seconds. The green went as it had gone, and all was still in the Wall, save the soldiers who were frantically lining up on the Wall and their comrades who continued to pour out from the stairs.
“Wow,” Shaden breathed.
“Did you do that?” Kibra asked, crawling towards him. “What did you do?”
“I healed everyone,” Shaden chuckled, “I think.”
He hadn’t realized that he had been sweating. He wiped his forehead and flicked the moisture off in the air.
“Wait, and me? I didn’t get any healing.”
“Well, you saw something cool, right?”
“But, if you don’t mind, you could heal me too.”
“Fine,” Shaden laughed. He felt like he could do anything at the moment. He placed a hand towards Kibra and—
Kibra yelled as a blast of green erupted into his face, falling backwards.
“Woah!” he yelped, getting up in an instant. “Was that it?”
“Uh, sorry,” Shaden said. “I lost control. One more time?”
“Nah, I feel fine already,” Kibra said, waving his hand. “Can we go back now? All the soldiers are making me nervous. I don’t want to be caught.”
“You won’t need to worry about that.”
Kibra stuck close to Shaden as they descended to the surface, and when their feet touched the floor, Shaden leisurely led Kibra past the guards who failed to notice them. Kibra’s face was twisted in confusion, and he turned to Shaden with his mouth hanging.
“Stealth,” Shaden shrugged. “It’s a skill I have.”
“What are you, a genius?” he muttered, looking up to the sky. “Hey, flying was nice. Thanks for that.”
“It wasn’t much,” Shaden smiled. “I’ll be leaving soon.”
‘You will?”
Kibra frowned. “I thought you were here to help us. The King sent you, didn’t he?”
“Not exactly. I had a debt, and now I’ve paid the price.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“So...it was nice knowing you,” Kibra muttered, putting out a hand.
“I won’t leave yet. I still need to wait for my ride.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll tell you when I leave.”
“Yeah, okay. You know what? I’m sleepy.”
“Me too,” Shaden yawned. Now that his circulation had slowed, the fatigue was catching up to him.
They walked down the stairs rather quietly, and it was only a few minutes before they reached their house. Carefully, they snuck inside. It didn’t seem like anyone had woken up yet, and using Shaden’s finger-candle, they made their way into their room and crawled into their blankets.
“That was fun,” Kibra giggled, looking at him. “Maybe we could do it again?”
“Maybe,” Shaden sighed. “Try not to tell anyone what we did. It’ll be a secret, yeah?”
The boy nodded. “Of course. You can trust me.”
He fell asleep a few minutes after that. Shaden stared at the ceiling for a while longer, and he felt as if a burden had been lifted from his chest. He was finally free now.
Responsibilities. He didn’t really like that word anymore. He liked being carefree, at least as Shaden.
The burdens of the family his grandfather had talked about—would they be similar as this? He had less than five years until his fifteenth birthday, and his life would change again. How exactly?
But for now, he’d sleep. He’d forget about everything for a moment.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
The soldiers who recognized him were too polite the next morning. Even Kortuya, who he thought he had become close enough to, was unnatural in his actions and words, acting more reserved than usual.
“Would you like some tea, or would you prefer something sweet?” he offered, his body slightly lowered. “Anything you’d like, we—”
“Stop. What’s up with you?” Shaden groaned, “but something sweet would be nice. But why are you acting so strangely?”
“You healed everyone,” Kortuya muttered, getting something from the new set of ingredients that had been sent to the infirmary. “That is impossible to do, unless you have the assistance of a god, or unless you are a god.”
“Huh.”
“Here you go.”
Shaden took a sip.
“Honey?”
“With some brewed towee beans. They are a delicacy for honored guests.”
“I wasn’t before?”
“You were here on...less than friendly terms,” he answered, fetching a plate. “Cookies?”
“Uh, sure.”
He’d only been given jerky and flatbread before, and the new tastes were pleasant. But the change in attitude was uncomfortable. Why now? Hadn’t he healed people before?
“I understand now why you had no qualms about slaying a Royal wyvern,” Kortuya said through a sip of his cup. “If it isn’t too much, may I ask you...which master do you serve? Who is it that shows their favor upon you?”
Shaden snorted. He wasn’t used to being treated like this.
“It’s just me, Kortuya,” he answered, reaching for a cookie. “There’s no one else. But I’m not a god—I’m human like you. Maybe I’m a sage or something. I’ve heard that before.”
“Even the greatest Royal Savant would pale in comparison to what you did last night,” Kortuya said, pursing his lips. “I—did I make you uncomfortable?”
“A little.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“Then I take it that you wish to be treated the same? This isn’t some trial that has been bestowed upon the Wall’s residents, promising death and destruction to those who have shown you disrespect?”
“No way.” Shaden shook his head. “You’ve been kind to me.”
“It was the bare minimum.”
He sighed, leaning back on his chair. “What is your purpose? Why did you let yourself come here? I know you didn’t enjoy healing people for hours and hours.”
“It’s just how life went.”
“I do not understand. One does not walk around with an army of soldiers unless they wish to conquer.”
“Sorry, I’m not good with sayings. And that means?”
“Who are you?” Kortuya clasped his hands together carefully before him. “Where do you come from?”
“I’m just a boy who likes traveling,” Shaden replied, chewing on a cookie. It was tough but went well with the tea. “Maybe I have more mana than normal people, but—I’m human.”
Kortuya shook his head, but he didn’t say anything more.
“I understand,” he said, getting up. “Please, follow me. The Lord General has prepared for you a room of honor.”
“I don’t mind staying where I am,” Shaden said.
“Ah. The boy—did you take a liking to him?”
Take a liking? Shaden didn’t enjoy the vocabulary being used. “Yes, I became friends with him,” he replied bluntly.”
“Friends?”
Kortuya smiled. “I understand. And now, with all of the patients gone—what do you wish to do?”
“How long do I have left?”
“The next caravan should arrive in two days.”
“I guess I could—”
Shaden stopped when the bells began to ring, above them, all around them, dully echoing through the walls. He’d heard it once more while he had been healing, but it hadn’t been as frantic as it was now. The bells clanged and bonged ceaselessly, growing louder with each second.
“Wyvern attack!” Kortuya exclaimed. “So soon? Why do the bells ring so violently?”
Shaden remembered something from long ago, back when he was in Danark, back before he had learned to suppress and control his mana so that it wouldn’t leak. His mana had caused a change in the city’s sewer life.
Had his use of mana attracted the wyverns?
“I’m going up there.”
“Of course,” Kortuya agreed without a moment’s hesitation. “Do you know the way?”
“Yeah.”
“Excuse me for—”
“I know, you’re the medic. But I don’t think there will be patients today.”
The doctor’s expression darkened. “You’ve never been here when the bells—”
He stopped himself, clearing his throat. “Do what you must,” he concluded.
“I will.”
Shaden quickly left the room, going up the first flight of stairs he could find. All around him, people were shutting themselves in their houses while resting soldiers frantically pulled their armor over their bodies as they made their way to their stations. Something seemed different. Things didn’t feel as orderly and calm as they had before.
He eventually reached the top and poked his head out from the exit. As expected, the soldiers were all on the ballistae while prisoners in chains stood behind them, their hands ready to move the spears. Watayurk hunters watched over them, their bodies radiating with power. It was an endless line of defenders that stretched as far as the eye could see.
Shaden looked to the right.
“Woah,” he breathed.
It stretched from the far east to the far west, condensing into a dense cloud at the center. Hundreds of thousands of wyverns, headed towards their way. Shaden couldn’t even make out their wings because they were so far away. But they dwarfed the clouds above them, casting a vast shadow beneath them, blocking the sun.
The bells continued to ring, and more soldiers took up their stations. Not even five minutes had passed.
Shaden glanced at the soldiers. The Watayurk hunters’ eyes were unwavering, but the prisoners’ faces were stricken with fear. Even the soldiers held tightly onto their weapons, their fingertips growing whiter from the pressure.
Would he have to help them again? If he could do mass healing, he could probably also do mass telekinesis.
He undid his stealth and stepped into the open. He was feeling great. It would just be another—
“There you are. I knew you would come.”
Someone had placed a hand on his shoulder, and Shaden turned around, amazed at how quickly he’d been found. His eyes fell the oldest man he’d seen in his life, with white hair, beard, and wrinkles that seemed to cover his whole body.
“I have heard about you. The boy who possesses the token of Rathiash.” The old man’s smile was a kind one. His voice felt delicate, and though he looked like he would fall over any moment, his feet were firm and his arms strong. He let go once Shaden had completely moved his body to face him.
“Who are you?”
“Sixth Elder of the Saiton Consortium, a Leaf of the Dragon’s Rose, Morohar. I am pleased to meet you, Shaden of Melern.”
An Elder? Out here, in the middle of the desert?
“Do you live here?”
“Not at all. I have come here to meet you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. But before that, will you assist me?”
Shaden nodded slowly, and the man stepped forward towards the incoming storm of wyverns.
“I will need your vast mana to guide them towards where they should go,” Morohar said. “Your grand usage of power threw their compasses in disarray.”
“So it is my fault.”
“It is nobody’s fault as long as everyone is safe,” the old man stated. “I have heard that you could produce mana crystals.”
“Yes.”
“I will need something the size of a small boulder,” he muttered, drawing a line of the floor with his finger. Though it was made of concrete, there was no resistance. “This size will do. And this tall.” He placed a hand to his waist.
With a nod, Shaden began to pour his mana into the set dimensions. From the bottom, crystals began to solidify, and it was a few seconds before the size required was created.
“Phenomenal!” the man clapped. “With your help, we will send the wyverns to their homes.”
He began drawing on the boulder of mana. A few soldiers had noticed them, but they kept their distance, keeping their eyes forward. No one questioned them or asked what they were doing.
“Now,” Morohar spoke after a minute had passed, “it is ready.”
He raised his hands into the sky, and a pillar of light shot up from the boulder, flying into the air. Suddenly, it swerved towards the wyverns, spreading out like a blooming flower as it neared them. It had become invisible by the time the magic reached the flying beasts, but Shaden sensed something change.
Slowly but surely, the dark cloud began to turn to the left, heading towards the north. Shaden laughed out loud, seeing them all go away.
“What did you do?” he asked. The boulder was gone now, completely used up by the spell.
“I inspired in them a feeling of disgust,” the old man said, lowering his arms.
“That’s it?”
“That is it,” Morohar agreed. “Is it too underwhelming to your tastes?”
“Simple is good,” Shaden said. “I was thinking of squashing them into a ball.
The old man raised an eyebrow. “Can you?”
“I never tried,” Shaden shrugged. “Now what?”
“I would like to have a chat with you,” Morohar said, “if you wouldn’t mind this man’s curiosity.”
“Not at all. I was wondering when I’d meet someone from the Great Library again.”
“Splendid!”
The soldiers all watched while the two of them casually strolled across the Wall to the stairs—yet no one spoke a word. Shaden found that strange. They seemed more focused on the old man than him.
An Elder of the Consortium. He’d heard that their influence on the world was great, though he’d never actually seen them anywhere else other than the Library.
“Do you know about my circumstances?” Shaden asked as the man led him.
“I have heard about them roughly.”
“So, can I go home now? Is everything forgiven?”
“Of course. Who could stop you?”
His words reassured him, and Shaden felt peace in his heart. Things were working out splendidly for him now. He’d run into some difficulties, but he was back in control like it should be. This was his dream, and things became as he willed it, even if it took some time.
“So...how is Pleid doing?” he asked.
“The Third Elder? He is still pursuing his goals. And he would love to meet you again.”
Morohar smiled.
“There is much for us to talk about.”
Shaden knew the excitement was back in his life again.