“Your uniform, your coat, and your weapon, as well as everything else you will need,” Perren said, handing the large bag over to him. Shaden accepted it, though it felt a bit underwhelming.

He’d never expected his birthday to be the day when he was appointed as a soldier—or a trainee. The bag weighed heavily in his arms, and while getting clothes custom-tailored to him with a weapon was exciting in its own way, it couldn’t be called a moment of celebration. And with all of the grim faces watching over him, he could feel his heart grow numb with each passing second.

“A toast to the new recruit of Fort Avagal,” Commander Pevel said, raising his cup. His sons and daughter all raised their cups, as did Shaden. They each drank deeply, and Shaden quickly detoxified his drink before gulping it down. He’d tried some in the desert, and well, it had been similar to swallowing hand sanitizer. Though it was inevitable that the drink tasted like bitter fruit juice now.

Ham, cheese, hard bread, and a fermented plant dish with a smoky odor. Though Shaden didn’t have much time to chew while answering all of the questions that were thrown at him.

“It is admirable that you have decided to join us,” the Commander said, a faint smile on his cold lips. “I am looking forward to how you fare. Given your situation, you will be stationed under Pillen.”

“I’ve never heard of a trainee being positioned at Fort Avagal,” Pillen muttered. He was a young man without any facial hair—the brightest looking among his siblings.

No one answered him.

“As a trainee, your tasks would normally be to do the chores, but this will not be,” the Commander stated. “Pillen, you will teach him how to shoot and hone his body. As you have recently completed your mission, you will begin training immediately.”

“But Father. We’ve only just returned. My men need some rest.”

“Have they not rested for two days?”

The young man looked like he wanted to say more, but he looked down towards his food with a scowl. Compared to his siblings, he looked the most expressive.

Commander Pevel turned his head. “Benavon. When is the next Cold Invasion?”

“At the beginning of the eleventh month,” Benavon answered.

“Make sure to include Pillen’s squadron in it,” the Commander said.

“Yes, Father.”

They continued talking about upcoming plans for the fort, and Shaden quietly chewed on his meal while stuffing it down with bitter juice. He glanced around the room and briefly met eyes with Nicar, who refused to break her stare before he did. It wasn’t an intimidating stare, at least from his perspective. But he’d never been good at reading people.

She was a beautiful woman. Her dark, reddish hair reminded him of Enariss’s, and her height only added to her charm. Quiet and to the point—and Shaden wondered what went through that inscrutable head of hers.

He’d expected to question her again after he’d learned about the gift of focus—whether or not she’d purposely shot him down. Her brother had been straightforward in defending her, and Shaden had been caught up in the flow. He was never one to nag at something, and while his circulation was present, he couldn’t bring himself to be angry. Do it, and be seen as a child? All of this time, he’d willed himself to be cool-headed and free from conflicts. He hated conflicts. He hated going against people and becoming stressed from the interaction.

Especially with people he cared for—or would have to care about. And he’d have no choice but to care about the Nieuts. His relationship with them would be a lifelong one, just like the one with the Jakhar Kishaks. He would be their protector, and they would be his subordinates.

But how exactly? He’d never been treated with great respect. And he was used to it. Perhaps that was a bad thing. Did he have to exert his power?

Why couldn’t things flow on smoothly as they had always done? More and more, he was having to make conscious decisions on matters—and he wasn’t used to it. He’d resolved conflicts so far by being passive. And when he’d come close to stepping over the line, the shadow within him had stopped him.

This world was becoming more like a dream—uncontrollable. He was being swept with the flow and going against it pained him. It was supposed to be a fun life, not a difficult one.

“Would you like to, Shaden?”

Shaden looked up. “Hm? Could you repeat that?”

“My Father was asking whether you wanted to live in the Barracks or the Living Quarters,” Benavon repeated, putting down his cup with a small thump.

“What’s the difference?”

Benavon frowned. “Did Nicar not tell you?”

Shaden cleared his throat, foraging his head for the answer. “No, I remember,” he replied. “I’d like to use the Living Quarters.”

While Shaden wasn’t good at reading others, he had a good eye for the change in their expression. And the moment the words left his mouth, everyone’s eyes briefly glanced towards him, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Nicar snort and take a sip from her drink.

“I suppose living together isn’t required for training,” the Commander nodded. “Though, you will have to wake up by yourself.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Shaden replied. “Clock magic works wonders.”

“Do you require mana crystals?”

Shaden found the question funny. “No, but why?”

“Your capacity for mana, from what I can see, is very vague,” the Commander told him. “Perhaps it is the nature of your blood that renders it so. Though I have heard that you were not raised in Skotos.”

“No.”

Again, people’s eyes darted about towards his direction.

“But it won’t be a problem,” Shaden ascertained. “My grandfather has told you about me, no?”

“He has. That is why I do not worry,” the Commander said. “I am merely looking forward to your performance.”

The birthday ended swiftly, and Shaden was led to his new room afterwards where Pillen taught him to organize his belongings. The weapon went there, the clothes went here, and the shoes went here. There was an order to everything, a place for every object.

“By six tomorrow, come to the Main Grounds to assemble,” the young man told him. “And it’s by six. It would be best if you came earlier.”

“What should I do when I get there?”

“Stand in formation—actually, I will pick you up tomorrow. Can you prepare by ten minutes before six?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. If we’re doing this by the book, you would have to call me ‘sir’ from now on, but—”

The man shrugged. “I’m not doing this because I want to. So, well, don’t try to kill me at night.”

“Uh—”

When Shaden raised an eyebrow, the man smiled and patted him on the back. “I’m kidding. Goodness, my family is cold, aren’t they? I wish Benavon would have seen you at Skotos. Can you still do the shadow magic?”

“I can.”

“Hoho. Does it require much mana?”

“Not really.”

“Hmm. But anyway,”

Pillen’s face turned serious, and with it, he placed his right arm in front of his stomach, with the back of his fist facing towards Shaden. His left arm was positioned straight down his side, with the hand balled up as well.

“This is how you salute,” the man told him. “You do it when a superior looks at you, addresses you, or when you address a superior. Keep it up until the conversation begins, then you can put it down.”

“Must I salute everyone then?”

Pillen pursed his lips and scowled. “Well, I suppose not. Goodness, we’ve never had a trainee here before. For now, salute me, my siblings, and my father. Remember to put ‘sir’ at the beginning or the end of each sentence. Could you...do that?”

The man looked unsure about it, and when Shaden hesitated, he cleared his throat.

“If you don’t want to, should I ask my father about it?”

“No,” Shaden decided. “I can do that much.”

Pillen smiled. “Thank you. We are...meant to be your subjects, right? I was never told much, being the youngest.”

“Yes. Apparently.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to your wyvern,” he said. “She never apologized, did she?”

“No,” Shaden agreed. He felt depressed for some reason.

“They tend to be like that. Stone-cold, stubborn.”

“Yeah.”

“You...won’t kill us during our sleep, will you?”

Shaden shook his head.

“That’s a relief. It was Perren and I that went to your birthday. The rest know nothing about you or Skotos. Especially my sister. She’s always hated those stories.”

“What kind of stories?” Shaden asked. “About our family going around and killing people in their sleep?”

“Not exactly. Maybe I could tell you some later,” Pillen said. “I’ll pick you up, so make sure to be dressed, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The young man headed out, and Shaden fell on the bed of his new room, letting out a large sigh. It was much smaller and modest than the guest room, and all there was within it was a small bed, a desk and chair, a window made of wood, and a closet with drawers. There was a lamp on the desk, ones that could be lighted with either oil or mana crystals. It was empty, but Shaden easily produced a small crystal and placed it within, giving it a small nudge with his mana to activate it. It lit up, and Shaden closed the windows.

Way too dark. Even with the lamp, the room was dark. It wasn’t a problem for him, because he could quickly cast orbs of light around the place.

He would eat food at the Commander’s Abode still, where he’d have to go for dinner. The rest of the Nieuts had gone to do their duties right after the small party, and he was the only one with time in his hands.

Shaden closed his eyes. He could always sense his surroundings with mana, but the new ability allowed him to pinpoint every signature—the dots were clear in his mind. Though there wasn’t anyone within the building now except Pillen who was leaving.

It felt much less wasteful than before, but this was something he could do even before he’d learned it.

But there was more.

And he’d make sure to show it all tonight.

⤙ ◯ ⤚

It was free time for the fortress after dinner for everyone, excluding the guards and a few stationed people. After they finished eating, Shaden waited outside until Nicar emerged, revealing himself to her in the dark. There were torches lit up, but the fort itself remained shadowy.

“Nicar, sir,” he emphasized, letting his sarcasm flow through. “Do you remember the bet we made?”

Her face was even more unreadable in the darkness. But he could tell that she was not amused.

“I made no bet with you,” she said.

It made something well up in Shaden, seeing her so nonchalant, but he continued. “I finished mastering the gift of focus,” he told her, revealing a small stone in his hand. “I wanted to let you know.”

She snorted. “Good.”

She turned around and began to leave, and Shaden watched her go, perplexed.

Now what? She didn’t care about him at all. Would he have to pursue the matter to get an apology out of her?

He threw the stone towards her direction, and it flew past her, whizzing through the air like a bullet. With a crack, it landed on the wall.

She never looked back, walking on. And Shaden felt embarrassed for acting in such a way. Hiding himself, he quickly went up the wall and out of the fortress, jumping down and landing without a sound with the help of his shadow. He ran and ran, into the darkness and into the landscape, across the hard earth until the fortress was just a speck in his vision.

He yelled as loud as he could, venting all of the frustration within him. While the anger and pain inside him hadn’t been relieved, there was no one to direct it towards.

Because he knew that what Nicar had done perfectly made sense to her. The gift didn’t allow him to see further away. The gift was controlling mana minutely, stretching and channeling it to sense, connect, and bind to the target. There was no space-sensing or anything of the sort.

But she could still apologize, couldn’t she? What—would he have to force her to?

He’d wanted to forgive her. He’d never taken anything seriously as Shaden—it was just a leisure, fun, experience building. Conflicts? He’d never had any before the one with Prince Salahin. And if there was conflict, Lytha was the one who’d resolved them. She’d done it so easily.

He was being ignored because he was a child. He was small, naive, and powerless in their eyes. Underestimated, because they knew little of him.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Shaden faced the fort—his marker was still on Nicar. If he wanted to, he could fling a giant clump of earth towards her without missing.

“Hah—”

He relaxed, falling back-first on the ground.

The superheroes in the waking world—he’d read about them often before bed. How their enemies would fear them, how the people would love and respect them. And they would always be kind, fighting for justice and showing mercy to the unfortunate. There were exceptions, but rarely did they break the mold. They never abused their powers, and they always seemed to know what to do.

And he’d wanted to be like them once before he’d failed the selection for the Islands. But here, he had all of the power. Power to make anyone bend to his will.

“Jothan, what would you do?”

His friend had always been the hero-type, sticking by him through middle school. Through troublemakers, tests, projects, and everything else. He’d thought that they’d remain friends forever.

He still did.

“Sorry, Ena,” he muttered. “I’m still going to try my best.”

Jothan would tell him to smile and be cool. Enariss, he wasn’t sure. He’d never seen her being less than perfect. But she’d either send Nicar flying or intimidate her with her power.

He didn’t have the heart to do it. And it was too late. More than two weeks had passed, and if he went to complain now, he’d be seen as petty.

Adults were tiring to deal with.

Eventually, he made his way back to the new room he’d been assigned, trying not to be seen. His life in the north had begun horribly, and though he was looking forward to the training, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to adjust properly. He’d thought that he would be better off in the cold, but the lack of warmth was causing his spirit to falter.

He slept alone in his new bed, looking out of the window wondering if he’d be able to make proper allies. Maybe he’d tame another animal. It wouldn’t fill the emptiness left from his wyvern, but at least it would alleviate it.

His shadow flickered through his body, but he didn’t notice it as his mind fell into a slumber.

⤙ ◯ ⤚

Five-forty. His eyes shot open, and his mind cleared, vibrant energy running through it. He got up on his bed, reached for his clothes, and began to get dressed.

He was always good at waking up; Lytha had made sure to drill that into him. Survival skills in the wilderness—those were things he knew by heart. He just wished she’d taught him how to deal with people. Wild beasts, monsters, and poisonous creatures weren’t a problem to him, but relationships were.

He hadn’t thought that it would be. But had he ever gotten into a conflict before? Then again, was he in a conflict in the first place? Maybe it was just him who couldn’t get over Grak, trying to feel better by seeing the people be more respectful towards him. He wasn’t being treated badly. It was just their indifference that caused him to suffer since he’d always been at the center of things as Shaden most of his life.

He buttoned up his uniform and inspected his body. It was a little loose, but he had plenty of room to grow. He was wearing the summer uniform now with short sleeves, though wearing long ones would still have been fine for him. It was chilly even during the summer.

There was a knock on his door soon enough, and he opened it to find Pillen outside.

“Are you ready?” he asked. “This will be your first day.”

“I’m ready,” Shaden replied. “Do I have to take my weapon with me?”

“No. Did you make sure to get fully dressed?”

“Yes.”

“Seems like it. Let’s go.”

Shaden followed Pillen out of the room, and he saw other officers coming out with yawns on their faces. Some glanced at him but didn’t pay much attention. No one attempted to talk to him so far, and he didn’t know whether it was because of an order or because they didn’t care.

They went outside. The sky was still very dark without a hint of light, though grey had begun to shift into dark blue. The barracks were right across the officers’ living quarters, and Pillen walked right into it with Shaden following behind.

“We move in groups,” Pillen told him. “My squadron moves with me, and you’re part of it now. Stay right behind me.”

Shaden nodded.

“It would be better to reply, but do what you want,” Pillen said. “I never liked formality anyway. Though my siblings might say something, so try to reply when they say something.”

“Yes.” Shaden blinked. “Sir,” he added, remembering their conversation from before.

“That’s perfect,” Pillen smiled. Then he frowned. “Goodness, this feels strange. Please think of it as an experience, since you’re not actually subservient to me.”

“Okay. I think I’m fine with it.”

The young man nodded. “Thank you. I never like being a soldier anyway.”

They made their way into a large room where eight beds were laid out. Two were unoccupied, and the six that were had folded blankets on them, with men yawning and stretching on each one, complete in their uniforms. Upon Pillen’s arrival, one of them got up and saluted, and the others followed, though more slowly.

“We were about to go outside, sir,” one of them spoke—a bulky man with slanted eyes.

“Morning, Enov,” Pillen said. “It’s sudden, but I wanted to introduce you to the newest member of our squadron—Shaden.”

“Him?” the man asked. “Here?”

“No questions yet. Treat him very well. He could take on any one of you, and you’d come out crawling on your knees.”

The men exchanged glances, and some of them even smirked. It was dark, but Shaden saw every single one.

“Now, outside,” Pillen commanded, and the men hurried out. In the end, only Pillen and Shaden were left in the room.

“This was where you were meant to stay if you’d chosen the barracks,” he told him. “They’re good men. Each of them is a warrior at heart.”

“I think I prefer staying alone,” Shaden said, looking around. The smell was harsh, and there was something oppressive about sharing the room with six people. He was glad that he’d gotten a room to himself.

“Anyone would,” Pillen sighed. “Let’s go.”

The men were lined up, and others were emerging from the barracks as well, grouping in the same way. After Pillen stood in front of his squadron with Shaden behind him, they began to march upon his command towards the main grounds until they reached the front of the podium, where they stopped. There were others who’d arrived before them, and they stood as still as statues, their bodies perfectly straight. Pillen’s squadron did the same, and Shaden imitated them. He couldn’t see well, because he was now surrounded by men much taller than him.

But the sound of people arriving was evident. Closing his eyes and sensing the area around him, he could see that the people who were arriving numbered more than a hundred—no, two hundred. The number was increasing.

Everyone was eerily silent. Combined with the dark, it made it feel creepier. But Shaden stood still. He already knew what would happen.

The captains arrived, officers with one silver dot on their collars. The regular soldiers had lines, and Shaden had none. Pillen had four, positioned like a barcode on his collar.

Shaden hadn’t expected Nicar to stand in front of them. Immediately after their eyes briefly passed by each other, he knew that Pillen was positioned under Nicar, and she was their captain.

He hoped he wouldn’t see her much.

The captains began to take a roll call while the squadron leaders reported the number of men present. It was something along the lines of ‘how many people were sick’ or ‘how many people were on vacation,’ but Shaden didn’t particularly care. All he cared about was carefully positioning markers on Nicars body to see if she would notice. One on her forehead, two on her shoulders, two on her arms, one on her heart, two on her legs—

He undid his magic after seeing she didn’t. What was he doing? He was being foolish. If she noticed, would he be reprimanded, because she was now his superior? He wasn’t familiar with military-related things.

“Our platoon has been granted permission to prepare for the Winter Trials,” Nicar informed, her clear voice cutting through the other captains’ voices. “We will have three months to prepare, compete with the other platoons, and if we win, prepare for another month. There will be scouting missions in between. Squadron leaders, to me after. The rest, disperse.”

“Stay with me, since you don’t know what to do,” Pillen whispered.

While the rest of the men began to leave, Shaden stayed with Pillen who grouped up before Nicar with the other squadron leaders.

“We didn’t have the honor of participating last year, but this year will be different. As cold as it will become, I will need each squadron to…”

Nicar went on, explaining what she had in mind, and the leaders took turns offering ideas. As inflexible as she’d seemed, she was good at talking with her subordinates. Though it didn’t make Shaden feel better. Worse, in fact. She’d refused to talk properly to him.

The conversation lasted for some time, with the final words being, “Continue until I call for a meeting,” from Nicar. But while the other leaders left after the conversation finished, Pillen stayed behind.

“Sis—Captain Nicar,” he said, noticing someone nearby. “As for Shaden, will he be participating?”

“He will be participating in the training,” Nicar affirmed. “As for the Winter Trials, it will be his choice then.”

“You could just say that to me without referring to me in third-person,” Shaden muttered, earning him a blank stare from the tall woman. “What? Sir.”

Nicar sighed. “Good luck, Brother. Take care of the boy—Father is counting on you to perform magnificently.”

“He knows I’m not planning to stay a soldier,” Pillen said.

“Accomplishments will be good for your future,” Nicar replied, “soldier or not.”

“I know he’s just trying to pull me in.”

“I’d like you to stay as well.”

“Not a chance, captain. What will you be doing?”

“Papers and training, as usual.”

“Marriage?”

“One more word from you, and you will be running laps all day.”

“Good day to you too, captain,” Pillen saluted. “I’d like to eat with the soldiers today.”

“Suit yourself.”

So they left, heading towards the canteen. The young man showed him how to get the food from the cooks, who were every bit as intimidating as the rest of the soldiers with their bulky arms and elephant legs. No one in Fort Avagal was unfit, and among the tall, muscular soldiers, Shaden was just a scrawny boy.

Compared to his plate, the others’ plates were stuffed with food. Pillen’s portion was three, maybe four times his, and he was the skinnier one among them. And there were those who went for a second portion.

“So you’re eating with us today!” one of them cheered, raising his spoon. “I thought the Commander loved his children.”

“A little too much,” Pillen chuckled. “But yes. You haven’t introduced yourselves to the recruit.”

“What was his name again?”

“Shaden.”

“Strange name.”

“What is a boy doing here?”

“He looks like he’ll faint if Enov farts on him—”

“What! Say that again, I will bite your finger off—”

“Silence,” Pillen muttered, and the whole table became quiet. Shaden thought he felt streaks of mana go from the man to his subordinates.

“Now, each of you, introduce yourselves, starting from Enov,” Pillen said, putting a spoon into his meal. “And do it properly.”

The soldiers exchanged glances, but the man called Enov cleared his throat and turned to Shaden.

“I am Enov, vice leader of this squadron,” he said. His slanted eyes turned to the next person.

“I am Gel, primary shooter. It’s new to see a boy here,” he muttered. He was built like Enov—bulky and square—but his expression wasn’t as hard.

“Geloi,” the next man said. He was by far the most handsome in the group excluding Pillen, with a sharp chin like a model and a body of a true soldier—wide shoulders and lean, muscular arms that matched his height. “There’s not much to say.”

“I’m Patran, and if you need something, feel free to ask,” the next man said. He was smaller than the rest, perhaps the smallest in the group, but that was only his height, the rest of his muscles screamed athletic with all of the veins popping out.

“I am Hinz,” a pale, shorter man said. He wasn’t as short as Patran, nor was he as veiny, but the white of his skin made him stand out. Shaden knew by the first glance that he wasn’t someone he wanted to talk with much. The man looked like a muscular ghost with boney hands.

The last man had the largest eyes in the group, and he looked the youngest. A little while ago, he had been smiling and giggling, but now, his face was blank. “I am Dilli,” he said. “I come from Zentoth where my family lives. That is all.”

“That is our squadron,” Pillen completed, clapping his hands. “You don’t have to memorize their names right away. You’ll learn as we train together. And the rest of you, don’t aggravate Shaden too much. You might wake up with a missing limb if you’re not careful.”

“Is he some kind of secret project the higher-ups have their hands in?” Enov asked, crossing his arms.

Pillen put a finger to his lips. “No questions. Do as you’re told.”

“Yes, sir,” all of them replied in unison.

⤙ ◯ ⤚

“NOOOO!! FUUUUCKKKKINGGG! GRRRRGGGHHH!!

The veins on Enov’s head threatened to pop as he pushed against Shaden’s arm with all his might, but his struggles were insignificant against Shaden’s infinite supply of energy. He huffed and puffed, screaming in intervals to squeeze every last drop of power, but Shaden simply smiled, inching his hand closer to the surface of the table.

When the back of the man’s hand touched the table, the soldiers around them cheered and yelled, and Enov’s red face became redder. Shaden simply shook his arm and smiled. He hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

“We have a new arm wrestling champion!” Pillen laughed, raising Shaden’s hand. “With this, do you agree on letting him stand behind me?”

Enov massaged his arm. He didn’t look content, but the men around him were laughing.

“Yes,” he said reluctantly. “I can see why he’s here.”

“With this, you have been accepted into the squadron,” Pillen smiled, leaning closer. “I’m glad you did it. That was incredible.”

Shaden grinned. “What would have happened if I failed?”

“Bad things. It’s better not to know,” Pillen answered. “Only the weak have to go through them.”

It sounded menacing, but Shaden decided to ignore them—because he was strong.

Yes, he was strong.

“And watch your tongue, Enov,” Pillen warned. “Swearing against a boy? Is that what the soldiers of Fort Avagal do?”

“No, sir,” Enov muttered. His face was still red, and he looked very discontent about the whole matter.

“Good. Now, take the men and go over the formations. I will be teaching Shaden how to shoot.”

Enov raised an eyebrow. “Sir, do you mean that he can’t shoot?”

“Not yet. He’s new to this.”

The man snorted. “I understand. Men, on me.”

While Enov took the rest of the squadron away, Shaden quickly retrieved his weapon from his room and went to Pillen, who stood with his weapon in hand.

“Do you know how to ride a horse, Shaden?” he asked, leaning the blast rod against his shoulder.

“Yes,” Shaden replied.

“Then, we will go outside.”

After mounting on horses, they passed through the gates and into the open where they rode a short distance away from the fort until nothing much was around them. Pillen got off his horse, and Shaden did the same.

“Using a blast rod is very dangerous,” he said, placing the butt of his on the ground. “There are three parts to shooting. Lining, exploding, and directing.”

He raised his weapon and aimed it towards the opposite direction of the fort. Shaden felt mana building up inside of the weapon, and with a bang, something shot out from the barrel into the air.

It was essentially the sound of a gun.

“I shot air, but with a bullet, it can be the most lethal weapon in the world,” Pillen said. “The first is lining. Before anything else, you must be able to line the inside of your weapon with mana as you would a sword. Can you do that?”

Shaden looked at his blast rod. It had been a while since he’d experimented with changing mana into aura, or whatever it had been called. A force of some sort, like his mana hands.

“I think I got it,” Shaden said. “Now what?”

“Hmm, that’s good,” Pillen said, and Shaden knew the man was inspecting his gun. “What do you feel inside of the weapon?”

“A small chamber with a hole on one side,” Shaden said.

“Cover the hole. With magic, you will need to build up the pressure within the chamber and release it through the hole. That is exploding. Without properly mastering lining, you won’t be able to shoot powerful shots. It would make the rod explode.”

“Ah. I think I understand,” Shaden said, raising the weapon. It had open sights, though Shaden guessed that he wouldn’t need them. “And directing is using the gift of focus to make sure each shot hits?”

“It would be aiming, but for us, yes,” Pillen agreed. “But as a result, each shot requires a lot of mana. I can shoot around thirty before I become exhausted.”

“Can’t you use mana crystals?”

“We can. But not here. In Fort Avagal, everyone knows how to shoot the blast rod at least once without assistance. To truly become a part of the fort, you will need to learn how to shoot.”

“Teach me how to explode.”

The next few minutes were spent watching Pillen make miniature explosions on the tip of his finger that went pop, pop, pop until Shaden finally managed to recreate the same sensation. When Shaden did the same, Pillen’s eyes widened.

“You knew how to do it?” he asked.

“I knew something similar,” he said.

Shaden raised his weapon and focused on a lone tree some distance away. It was the size of his thumb from where he stood, but using his newfound power, he latched onto it, creating a path for his bullet to travel down.

“What’s the bullet made out of?” Shaden asked.

“Metal,” Pillen replied.

Shaden had no idea where to get a metal bullet, so instead, he created a bullet-sized mana crystal within the barrel, right outside of the exploding chamber. This would be child’s play for him. After lining the inside of the weapon, he began to build up pressure inside of the chamber.

“Shaden? What are you doing?” Pillen asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Shooting,” he replied.

The path was set, the pressure was ready, and the bullet was in place. He only needed to release it.

With a loud bang, Shaden’s world turned into a flashbang, and he cried out, feeling his hands suddenly become numb.

“Goodness—” Pillen yelled—

The light vanished as quickly as it had come, and Shaden abruptly healed his hands before Pillen could see, as well as his face. The man was on his knees with his hands on his eyes, and Shaden quickly cast magic on him. Within a few seconds, Pillen was blinking again, looking around.

“What was that!” he demanded, getting up. “What did you do?”

“I made a mistake,” Shaden said, biting his lip.

He went back to retrieve his weapon—which now looked like a distorted flower made of metal. It was completely ruined.

“Er—more practice?” he laughed weakly, turning to the young man.

But Pillen was furious. The veins on his forehead were visible, and his face was contorted, not a trace of the relaxed attitude there had been before.

And Shaden knew that he had majorly, tremendously—

Screwed up.