“It’s over.”
Nicar slowly let go of Shaden, who stood there with his eyes closed. The air was eerily silent for the first few seconds with only the slight tremor of wind blowing past Shaden’s ears.
“Please don’t do anything unnecessary,” Nicar said softly. “They would have died without anyone to take care of them. To venture to the edge is death. They should have known.”
Shaden opened his eyes. From within the house, confused voices were beginning to arise.
His facial muscles tensed.
“No,” he stated.
There was a loud crunching noise as the roof of the wooden building began to stretch outwards, tearing and groaning as the boards came apart. A soft shimmer appeared from within the building, and a large sphere revealed itself, floating upwards from the roof that was now forced open. Inside, a sizable group of people sat huddled together, composed of women, children, and some young males—all beastmen.
“Shaden!” Nicar exclaimed. “This is treason!”
“Unfortunately for you, I’m only a visitor,” he replied bluntly.
A look of worry—perhaps fear—came over her face. The soldiers were rushing out of the building now, their weapons aimed towards the group of floating beastmen. It was muffled, but Shaden could hear the beastmen cursing at the soldiers.
“The Great Spirits have delivered us! You will die in the wilderness!” one of the women screamed. “These lands were given to us. Begone!”
“Intelligible animals. Sir, give us the order,” one of the soldiers asked Nicar, whose eyes darted between Shaden and the floating people. Uncertainty quickly became resolution, and she raised her arms at the beastmen.
“Fire!” she yelled. “Shaden, undo your magic now, and I will not report about this.”
“Can’t you see? I’m saving them,” he said, cocking his head.
“You don’t understand. You won’t be able to block everything.”
“You seem to forget that I blocked an avalanche.”
Pop. Crack. Pop.
Shaden felt a string of mana attach to his body. Someone was trying to send himself a signal. He looked up at Nicar, whose face was as cold and hard as stone.
Ignoring his statement, she raised her weapon and aimed it at the beastmen. Already, the others had begun firing, their bullets harmlessly bouncing off of the force field Shaden had created.
Pop. Pop. Crack.
Crack. Pop.
He frowned. His eyes met Nicars, and she looked at him with urgency.
“Stop!” she yelled.
It wasn’t directed towards him. Shaden winced as a bullet thudded into his back, ripping through his coat and embedding itself into his body. Pain filled his head, but he had transformed; he was in complete control of his body. Reaching out with his power, he found a soldier who had shot him loading another bullet. Turning his head around, he found the man. Raising his hand, he pointed, power building up before his finger.
No longer. No longer was he going to take everything that was thrown at him. Because he had the power to bring about change.
He released his ball of energy. The soldier’s body flew backwards, falling onto the ground with a thud. He was now clutching his stomach.
Again. He’d thought that he’d put enough power into the energy bullet to penetrate bone and flesh, but something had interfered. The thin, coiling shadow around his hand was enough to tell.
He turned to Nicar again. She had her weapon pointed towards him. They all did after they’d found out that his barrier wasn’t going to break anytime soon.
Shaden coughed, and blood came out of his mouth. He could feel the blood in his lungs. But his body was surging with mana, and he felt like he could do anything.
“If you don’t get the wound treated, you’ll die!” Nicar exclaimed. “Shaden, surrender now!”
He brushed his fingers on his back, and he discovered that the wound was bigger than he’d expected. The pain was a dull throb, after all. He closed his eyes once more, concentrating on his body.
The bullet floated out of his back, dropping on the ground. The wound took seconds to close up, and he wiped his mouth, smiling. He spat to get the excess blood out.
Nicar had signaled him to run—for some reason. She’d been worried about him, right? He could tell, but her actions at the moment were saying otherwise.
He pushed off from the ground, and his feet left earth. Like the floating sphere of beastmen, his body was now levitating, rising higher and higher according to his will.
It had come to him suddenly. He’d tried to fly by telekinetically carrying himself, but it hadn’t felt the same. But this—after his body had experienced another leap—was the flight he’d dreamed of. The mana in him was his will, and through his will, he could bring about magic. He was the magic. His body, bending to his wishes—the medium of power. It wasn’t an understanding or enlightenment that allowed him to fly. It was just that his body was now utterly his, moving how he wanted it to,
Including upwards.
The soldiers looked up in awe as he ascended higher away from them, taking the beastmen with him. The bullets had stopped, replaced with frowns and murmurs. Only Nicar’s face was still, and her eyes continued to remain on him as he flew farther away. Her string was attached to him, and before he was too far for her to reach, she sent him a final message,
Survive.
He didn’t know what to think of her. She’d killed Grak, treated him like he didn’t exist, but had cared for him enough to free him from the soldiers’ thievery. She’d tried to shield him from seeing the beastmen die but had pointed her weapon towards him, all the while signaling him to escape.
His thoughts were interrupted by voices from behind him. The beastmen were trying to talk with him, banging their hands on the barrier.
“How far will you take us?” one of them asked. “Are you the one who saved us?”
“Yes,” Shaden told them in their tongue. “Where do you want to go?”
The beastmen discussed among themselves—mainly the women. The children were huddled together wordlessly while the older ones surrounded them protectively.
“It was the land promised to us,” an elderly woman said. “Now that our men are dead, we have nowhere else to go other than the cities.”
“Then I will take you there,” Shaden told them.
“Are you a spirit? Who are you that you would help us?” the woman continued.
“I’m human,” Shaden replied. “I just didn’t want to see people be killed.”
“Then what about the men? Did they deserve death? Did we deserve death?”
Shaden bit his lip. “Not really.”
“Why would humans come to attack us? Why would they cross the mountains?”
“I—” Shaden shut his mouth. “I don’t know.”
“We did everything that we were told. We followed the commands given to us and worked tirelessly to earn ourselves a place we could call home. But why—why must we be met with tragedy over and over again?”
The woman began to wail, as did the others around her. Hearing them, the children began to cry. It was a dreadful sound, and Shaden turned his head away from the beastmen. He didn’t know much about these people. But the least he could do was take them to a safer place.
Why? Why, indeed? The reason why they killed the beastmen was not clear. Was it because they had killed one of theirs? It was true that they had been attacked with an avalanche. Patran had almost died to one of the spears that the beastmen had thrown at them. Perhaps it was vengeance and retaliation, to show their neighboring country that they were not to be reckoned with.
But the villagers they had massacred had felt normal. Mundane almost, far different from the beastman who had caused the avalanche. And based on what the woman had said, they did not know of the conflict between the countries even when they lived right at the border.
Something didn’t seem right.
Had the soldiers of Fort Avagal been this cruel? Was the country itself cruel?
The Nieuts had guarded the fortress for generations. The Winter Trials was something they did habitually. Once every three years, when the winter cold was the strongest, they would cross the mountains. Massacring, looting, then returning, seemingly with no definite purpose.
Right. They didn’t see the beastmen as people. They saw them as animals.
The land was barren, and he wasn’t that high up to see far ahead. But he knew that they’d reach the Hyla River if they traveled along the path. Making sure no one was freezing to death, he continued across the country, keeping his eyes open for any settlements they might come across.
The beastmen were quiet throughout the journey. After their lamenting had died down, they talked in low voices among themselves. Eventually, one of them spoke to him.
“Savior. Without you, we would have met our demise,” the beastman elder spoke, lowering her head. “Though rude, I ask of you to show us grace again. The winter has been cold, and the children must eat.”
“We can rest then,” Shaden agreed, bringing them to the ground. “Wait here. I’ll bring you something to eat.”
Ten minutes later, he’d caught a large moose of some sort. He was about to skin the animal when a few of the children pounced on the carcass, tearing into the flesh with their claws and teeth. His eyes widened when he saw how effortlessly the animal came apart.
“Rascals! Have you no patience!”
The women, just as fast, jumped on the children, yanking them away from the moose. The children continued to chew, their hands and lips covered in blood, twitching feverishly. The elder fell before him, digging her forehead into the earth—her fear was evident.
“Apologies. Apologies! They have no manners. We are but ignorant beasts. Please, do not be angry at us.”
The others now followed her gesture, and Shaden felt uncomfortable being treated like this. This was the first time anyone had done such a thing.
He looked at the children. Their heads had been forcefully lowered, but their eyes were gazing at him. In their hands were chunks of meat that they refused to let go of.
“No, let them eat,” Shaden told them. “Don’t mind me. Or would you like your food cooked?”
“Sustenance lies in the blood. Burning it will destroy it,” the elder said.
There was a short moment of exchanging glances, and when a child freed himself to rush at the bloodied moose, the rest followed—including the women. Except for the elder, who was still on the floor, they all hungrily tore at the carcass, trying to stuff their mouths with everything they could fit inside. The children were the worst. The women were more refined, though the sight of them tearing through flesh dripping with blood was surreal.
Savages. These people were savages. They were animalistic in nature.
They were beastmen. At that moment, Shaden felt the invisible wall between him and them. Only the elder still before him felt human while the other seemed like blood-starved beasts. He could see it in their eyes.
“Won’t you eat as well?” Shaden asked the elder. “Please, get up.”
She did slowly. Unlike the others, the fur on her body was sparse, and the wrinkles of her face were clearly visible.
“My fill is after the others are satisfied,” she said, rising to her feet. “I cannot hunt, I am old. I eat last.”
The moose was very large. There would be a substantial amount of it left over when the beastmen were done filling their stomachs. Still, Shaden felt a touch of pity for the old woman. No one seemed to care about her as they ate.
When they were done, Shaden prepared a large pool of warm water for them to wash themselves with. The cold had muffled it, but now that they were close, they smelled like sweat and wild animals, reeking of the wild. He could see ticks crawling on their bodies. He didn’t cringe, but the sight of it made his skin crawl. It baffled him when they only used the water to rinse the blood off, not caring to wash their bodies. More shocking was when they drank from the pool that had become murky, and he quickly stopped them, preparing them another pool of clean water instead.
Mistilia hadn’t been like this. Nor did the beastmen who lived in the cities. Then again, the soldiers weren’t that clean either. They did wipe their bodies down with a wet towel every once in a while, but the cold prevented them from bathing.
Not wanting to travel further with unhygienic people, Shaden asked them to group up before him. When they did, he used magic and removed them of any impurities, and small parasites began to fall off from their bodies, falling on the floor. They seemed quite happy about it.
They continued onwards. They found a town soon afterwards, and Shaden descended before coming too close to prevent the residents from panicking. The rest of the way was done on foot, which took around five minutes.
“We can’t take you in,” the chief of the town told them. “We have no food nor room to spare. Find somewhere else.”
“Where can we go?” the beastman elder asked.
“There is another town half a day’s journey from here. Go there.”
It wasn’t too hard to find the next town with Shaden’s abilities. But they were rejected again, and again, and again until the sun hid behind the horizon. After Shaden had created a small earthen hut for them, they warmed themselves in the fire as they waited for the night to pass.
“Remain with us, and we will be your servants,” the elder asked, lowering her head once more. “We will all die if you leave us.”
“I will stay with you until you find refuge,” Shaden promised. “But I have to return.”
“Please, let us know your name so we may honor you.”
“It’s Shaden.”
They were all still wary of him, probably because he was a strange human child. He imagined remaining to begin a town with the beastmen like the protagonists of the novels he had read, but he knew he had to go back. Bluntly speaking, these people weren’t important enough. He had helped them out of pity, but their ways of life were too different, too conflicting. They simply needed him to guarantee their survival.
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He’d leave after they were safe.
Shaden was relieved when they found the city next to a large river (which he guessed as the Hyla River) the next day. There was smoke coming out from the buildings, and the streets were clean of snow, bustling with mostly beastmen and some other races. It was hard to tell, but the city resembled the one he’d visited previously to send Prem off a few years ago—
“What’s your business here?”
They were stopped by two guards—beastmen. But unlike the refugees, their fur had been cleanly shaved off. Only his ears, hair, and tail were visible with fur, and if there was fur on his body, it was hidden under his clothes and armor.
“Our village was attacked and our men were killed,” the elder explained. “We have nowhere else to go. Please, allow us to stay in the city.”
“And the human boy?”
“He is—”
“I am a visitor,” Shaden interjected.
“Where are your parents?”
“At an inn nearby.”
“Well, go back before night falls. You never know who will attack you with so many wild ones around.”
They were talking to him in the common tongue. The refugees didn’t seem to understand and glanced worryingly at him.
“What about them?” Shaden asked.
“They will be dealt with. Now go.”
Something felt strange. They were treating him more kindly than they did the refugees. Not wanting to escalate the situation, he nodded and left, only to return while stealth after he’d gone out of their sight.
“Come with us,” the guards told the refugees. Shaden followed them until they entered a large building labeled ‘City Watch,’ which he guessed was a kind of policing force based on the uniformed beastmen inside.
They were safe now. The city would take care of them.
He stretched widely, suddenly feeling incredibly relaxed. He wanted to lie down and look at the sky, but he was in a foreign place with no money. Yet, it felt good to be back in a proper civilization. The fortress had been suffocating with nothing to see. But this was a proper city. Faint smells of food filled the air, and there were so many different kinds of sounds around him. The people wore stylish winter clothing, looked clean, and seemed no different from regular people. These were the beastmen he was used to.
He’d suffered enough as of late. He could take some time off.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
It was a smaller city, but still properly developed. After a few trials and errors, Shaden managed to find the mana crystal store and trade in some crystals for spare change. He had the feeling that he was being ripped off, but he didn’t care. His supply was infinite.
Beastman food was in every way just as good as he remembered it. He ate hungrily, thoroughly enjoying himself. Afterwards, he took a stroll around the city, wondering what things the beastmen did for the winter. Perhaps they had or would have a festival because carven decorations of beasts had been set up accompanied with colorful tapestries and long, hanging fabrics.
He spent the night at an inn, probably ripped off again, but at least they allowed children to book rooms alone. The room quality was great as well. He lay on the soft bed while looking out of the window, feeling more at peace than he’d ever felt since he’d arrived at the north.
When he returned to Fort Avagal, what punishments would be waiting for him? He had apparently committed treason. Thinking about it made him sigh, so he decided to sleep early after enjoying a short flight around the city.
He could fly now. It was liberating, so good to feel the wind on his face as he zipped around the sky. He could perform somersaults, dive deeply, then shoot up like a shark. He could hover and gaze over the world. He could reach the skies and plummet into a freefall, catching himself just in time before he slammed into some buildings. The mana he expended was tremendous, but the more he used, the more boundless it felt.
His body had never felt so perfect.
Shaden had worried about returning to his other body during the time after his accident. With time and his friends’ help, he’d grown used to it, but now that he’d experienced another transformation, the other body felt so slow, so dull, so fragile…
Staying in the dream forever didn’t seem like a bad idea. The other world had its complications, and he’d have to deal with his conflict with Edan when he woke up. There would be a lot of unread messages on his phone, no doubt. Rumors would spread.
And while Riley and Rhyne were there to help, Enariss was far away, beyond his reach. Things would never be the same without her.
If only he had his current body in the waking world. The Preliminary Islands would welcome him with open arms, and he would become a superhero. The world would recognize him, and he would be engraved into the annals of history. They’d write a book in his name, and he’d finally be on the same level as Enariss.
He daydreamed until he fell asleep.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
Shaden woke up refreshed with a yawn, enjoying the sunlight that shined through the window.
After slowly getting dressed, he went downstairs and helped himself to a warm meal of smoked ham, cream soup with bread, and cheese, paying in full. He wondered what he would do now. It would be better to return as soon as possible, and he would have to return. His year with the Nieuts was far from over, and he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t run away.
Now that he could fly, transportation wouldn’t be a problem. He hadn’t tested out his limits yet, but he was pretty sure he could go as fast as a plane. Air resistance could be dealt with using a mana barrier. Maybe if he became fast enough, he could take a visit to his home in Danark to see his parents.
Feeling optimistic about the future, he used the rest of the money to taste all sorts of snacks before he left. He’d miss civilization. It was back to the soldier’s life again.
“Time to check on the others,” he muttered.
Before he left, he wanted to see how the refugees would be doing. He spread his mana in the direction of the City Watch building, but for some reason, nothing was there. They had moved elsewhere.
It wasn’t a problem for him. Closing his eyes, he sent a wave of detection throughout the whole city, letting out a snort of satisfaction when the marker he’d set on the elderly beastman reacted to his magic. He connected to it, running down the streets in its direction.
Strangely, it was at the border of the city where the streets were mostly empty of people. He looked around. The buildings here were large and made of dark stone or brick, with thick smoke rising out from their high chimneys. A strange smell lingered around the vicinity, though Shaden wasn’t sure what it was. It was like burnt hair. And metal.
The marker was within one of the buildings. Shaden didn’t know what the refugees were doing here. All he could see around were beastmen workers pulling carts of garbage to be burnt. He quickly realized that this was the disposal area based on the flow of items that went in and out of the buildings. Those would then be the incinerators.
Perhaps the refugees had gotten jobs.
Shaden felt a horrible shiver run down his spine.
Desperately, he ran past the guards and slammed into the doors, not caring about who heard the noise—they wouldn’t be able to see him anyway. He followed the marker deeper into the building where a large furnace was blazing behind an iron door. He could feel the heat on his skin.
And on the floor to the side, the elderly woman lay still. Her limbs were slack, and while her body faced him, her head did not. It was completely turned away from him. She lay on top of the children, all bent like her. Their numbers had lessened noticeably.
“Arh, that’s cold. Ay! Who opened the door!”
The beastman in charge stomped to the door, yelling at the people outside. He closed the door loudly, grumbling as he returned.
Shadows danced across the walls as the flames within the furnace rose and fell. The smell of burnt flesh pervaded his nostrils.
All dead. The refugees were all dead.
Why?
“W-who, what are you?”
The beastman stumbled back after seeing Shaden, who was now a long figure with a cloak of darkness and eyes of shining red orbs. He knew it would be more convincing that way.
“Why,” he spoke, “why did these innocents have to die?”
His voice was still a child’s, but the man seemed to be convinced otherwise.
“I a-am just doing my job, nothing e-else!” the man gulped, crawling backwards. “I swear, I didn’t kill them!”
“Who?”
“That’s—I can’t—”
“You would keep Death waiting?”
“The city, the city!” the man cried. “They send us bodies from time to time! They’re criminals, or died from accidents, or—”
“The children. Why are the children dead?”
“—or they’re s-savages! I swear, I didn’t lay a finger on them!”
Savages.
Was that what they called their own kind?
Feeling sick, Shaden hid himself and ran out of the door. Running, running, and running…
He didn’t know what to do anymore.
The odor of burnt skin clung to his nose.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
Pillen buried his face into his hands. The impulsive boy had done it again.
Never once had they allowed common villagers to escape from them during the history of the Winter Trials. The detection ability of their family allowed them to find every hidden beastman to leave no witnesses. It would have been the same this year too, if not easier with Shaden’s help—but the boy had ruined it, saving the beastmen instead. The blame would lie in no other than his sister and perhaps himself as the Commander had put him in charge of Shaden.
When he heard that Shaden had flown away, he hadn’t believed it. There was no way the boy didn’t know of the importance of the Winter Trials. He had explained it to him, of how it served to deter the beastmen from crossing over. Now he realized that his words meant little to the boy, and he acted in whatever way he pleased.
There was no way to track Shaden and the beastmen he’d taken with him. They had flown away. Flown away! How was that even possible? The boy hadn’t suffered any proper consequences for his actions, and perhaps it would remain that way given his absurd abilities. While a part of him was relieved that the child was not a cold-blooded killer, he worried for the future. He knew the importance of responsibility. It was never the individual that prevailed, but the group. Shaden cared little for it.
He had the qualities of a tyrant. Would it be better to begin submitting himself to the great and mysterious power, or act upon what he had been taught? Shaden had gone against the Commander’s commands, the orders given to them by their nation. Pillen rubbed his hair with frustration, trying to shake off the creeping frost.
His sister was trying hard to keep her composure, but he could tell. She was disturbed. They were now waiting for their father’s orders after sending him a messenger, and he was not someone who would overlook one’s mistakes because they were his children.
“Shaden, where the hell are you?”
A little longer, and he would have been out of the military. Now, who knew what complications would arise. He slammed his fist into the table in frustration—
—only to jump back in shock after seeing Shaden before him. Pillen felt a chill go down his back, and he cleared his throat before speaking.
“Shaden.”
Shaden didn’t reply. His face was blank.
“What happened to the beastmen?” Pillen asked.
“All dead,” Shaden answered. “They’re all dead.”
“Ah.”
That solved part of the problem. If there were no survivors to tell about the attack here—
“The beastmen in the city killed them. They killed their own kind. Pillen, do you think that what we’re doing here is right?”
“Right?”
Pillen took a moment to think. Right or wrong. That didn’t matter to soldiers who followed orders. But the boy wanted another answer.
“It’s necessary to protect our country,” he said.
“Necessary?”
Shaden’s face contorted. “Is it? Then why would the beastmen kill their own refugees?”
“I don’t know,” Pillen replied.
He honestly didn’t know. Such a case never had happened. Even if it had, only the higher ranking officers like his father and eldest brother would be aware of it. He was but a lowly soldier, and even among family members, confidentiality was never broken.
Silence lingered between them, and Shaden eventually turned around towards the door to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“Nicar,” Shaden told him. Pillen followed him out.
The soldiers had occupied the town for the meantime until a new course of action was formed. There were cautious looks and drawn weapons when Shaden passed by the soldiers, but Pillen raised a hand to deter them.
“What will you do?” Pillen asked.
“Recieve my punishment,” Shaden spat. “That’s how things work around here, isn’t it?”
Nicar ran out of the door even before they reached it, looking like she’d encountered a ghost. Pillen noticed that one of her hands was her belt where her knife was concealed below her cloak—something she did automatically when she was nervous. Her face returned to its calm state, but the hand didn’t budge.
“It’s fortunate that you are well,” she said. “What about the beastmen?”
“Dead,” Shaden said.
“Good,” Nicar said.
He had never been sensitive to mana, but when the air around Shaden began to shimmer ever so slightly, Pillen felt as if the atmosphere had condensed onto itself, squeezing down on his existence. His legs felt weak, and he instinctively stepped back from Shaden. The snow and dirt around the boy’s feet were floating upwards.
“Why?!” Shaden yelled, and the feeling became thicker. “Why would you say that?”
Pillen reached for his rifle, but he’d left it inside. No, there was no point in using it even if he had it with him. They were at the boy’s mercy, and he dearly wished that his sister wouldn’t say something stupid to escalate the situation.
Nicar’s eyes had barely budged. “Do you feel sympathy when you slay wild beasts?”
“Can beasts talk? Can they create houses and weave clothes to wear?”
He had never seen Shaden so enraged before. He thought about running, but he couldn’t leave his sister behind, who, to his horror, matched Shaden’s glare with an iron stare. Her stubbornness had brought her this far, but he worried that this would be her last moment before the boy destroyed them all.
“Lower your guns,” Nicar commanded. The soldiers were wide-eyed and on high alert, but they did as they were told.
“You are a stranger in our land,” she said. “You don’t know what we have been through, what we have seen. Have you ever heard of a beast that devours what it has raped? Or seen an animal that feasts on pregnant women? I have seen the mother torn from her unborn child, bleeding out on the ground. We give the mercy of a quick death. They use their intelligence to pervert it. We all know from the stories we hear as children. My brothers, my men, my people. For hundreds of years, they have crossed over and terrorized our land. We are enemies, Shaden. Them and us.”
“You are ignorant,” Shaden growled. “Have you been to their cities? Talked with any of them?”
“You are the one who is ignorant!” Nicar shouted, stepping forward. “What are you even doing here? If you were going to interfere, why did you join us? Aren’t you meant to assist us, to watch over us?”
“Captain!”
Nicar turned to Pillen, who shook his head. This was no place to talk about their family’s matters.
“So I am glad that they are dead,” Nicar spat. “As they should be.”
No one dared to interfere as the two scowled at each other, locked in place. Pillen held his breath. If the boy was pissed, there would be nothing to stop him.
“Pillen, you said that the Commander would know.”
Pillen blinked, regaining his senses. “Er—yes, he would likely know.”
“We’re going there then. Nicar, even without you around, your vice-captain can take care of things for now, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Yes or no?”
“Yes, but—”
Pillen held in a yell as their bodies were promptly snatched up from the ground, flying straight towards the mountains.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
“So, that is why you have come here.”
The Commander’s face was impossible to read as he shifted his hand over the documents before him. He fished a piece of paper out, holding it loosely in his hand.
“I have read the report. You let some beastmen escape,” the commander examined.
The force the man radiated had nothing to do with mana, but despite his circulating, he felt slightly intimidated by him. Perhaps it was the certain posture the man moved with, or his weathered face; whatever it was, Shaden didn’t want to raise his voice against him, even if he would win in a fight.
He glanced at the documents, squinting as he looked over the one in his hand. “Nicar, Pillen, leave us,” he said. “There is something the Heir must know about.”
The siblings momentarily paused before lowering their heads and exiting the tent. The Commander raised his hand and beckoned to Shaden to come closer.
“I’ve heard that you possess the gift of languages,” he said, placing the piece of paper before him. “See if you can make sense of this.”
Shaden approached and took the wrinkled letter from the table. The script was an unfamiliar one, but he understood what it said.
“Attack of the mountain,” he read. “Three villages. One below, one northeast, the last further east. Second resistance one.”
He put down the note. “What is this?”
“Incredible.”
The Commander nodded, putting his hands together. “Have you told anyone else about the death of the refugees?”
“Only Pillen and Nicar know.”
“Good. Do you know who sent this letter?”
Shaden looked at it again. “No.”
“Think. You can do that much.”
Shaden stared at the letter.
“Attack of the mountain. Is that referring to the avalanche?”
“Go on.”
A feeling of dread began to fill his lungs. “One below. That’s the village that was attacked.”
His eyes widened. “This letter—was it the one that the first group of beastmen was carrying?”
“Yes,” the Commander confirmed. “Though its contents would have been a mystery to them. Clueless as the villagers.”
“The beastmen. The city sent them?”
“The government of Anor,” the Commander clarified.
Shaden felt the blood evaporate from his body. “Why?”
“They detest their past. They would rather remove the ignorant than reform them. It is easier to start anew than to rebuild. Those failing to adapt will die off—that is their principle. The uncivilized tribes refusing to change are sent west, given the promise of freedom.”
The Commander leaned forward, his eyes colder than the coldest night Shaden had experienced.
“We are dogs—hunting hounds for Bughast. Our kings have sealed a deal with the warlords of Anor, and we have taken our duty with honor. Because that was the only option given to us, and we excelled. Your grandfather could not change it. Perhaps you will. But until you grow, the extermination must continue.”
Shaden opened his mouth but closed it again. He’d never felt so devastated and ignorant before. He was supposed to have all the power in the world, but the feeling of helplessness was overwhelming.
“Pillen and Nicar. Do they know?”
“They have no need to. They will not succeed me.”
“They could have died in the avalanche.”
“I did not raise them to be weak.”
His mind felt blank. Even while circulating, he couldn’t think of any more questions.
“If you care for them, you will not tell them,” the Commander said. “Some things are better unknown, and hatred lessens guilt. Shaden, you have learned far more than I could have imagined. You will go to Enthimer and join my grandchildren where you will spend the rest of your time.”
Shaden looked at the man. His words were final.
And he didn’t have the will to resist.