“Alright. This will work,” Shaden told himself in the bathroom stall, seeing his reflection off of the pool of water below him. He touched his face. No one would be able to recognize him.
Ever since the dagger had fused with his body, he’d been experimenting with it a little, seeing what it could do and what properties it possessed. While he hadn’t been able to discover much —aside from the fact that it could physically interact with things when he willed it to—he’d realized that it could be used as a covering, like clothes. It practically had no weight, but it was darker than anything—the perfect material for a mask.
There were plenty of people with black hair around, so he didn’t bother covering his head. The greatest problem of all would be his height and voice and skin color, but he’d quickly come up with a solution. He could fake his skin by completely covering himself with the shadow, his height by making his body float with his mana-hands under his newly-formed cloak made out of the shadow, and his voice by not speaking at all. It took him a few minutes to get the texture of the cloak right, but finally, he was ready to step outside.
What he’d become was a tall, abnormal being completely clothed in black, with no visible arms or legs. It screamed of weird awkwardness, so in the end, he simply covered his head too and created sleeves that didn’t quite adhere to physics but sort of floated around when he moved his arms.
Now that he looked like a shorter, underqualified grim reaper, he went out of the bathroom and hoped that no one would find him too suspicious. Some people were wearing black, so he hoped that his shadow wouldn’t stand out too much. Besides, there were quite a few individuals who screamed of danger and uniqueness other than him. A fully tattooed man with five piercings on each ear, top-half naked; another man in a kind of coat made out of bones who carried an assortment of human skulls on his waist; A masked man in a tight suit who had a giant dragon painted onto his back.
Not to mention all of the screaming and shouting that was going on at the center of the room. Most of the people were there, besides the few who were standing behind with drinks in their hands. It was only natural that no one paid that much attention to him—aside from the people who noticed him coming out. They had funny frowns on their faces, but Shaden ignored them.
He walked to the crowd and tried to take a glimpse of the arena. Bags full of coins were being passed around, and it looked like the match had ended, with a dark man in short pants with dreadlocks being victorious, his face bloody from the fight.
And he had bloodier fists. His opponent was lying on the floor, his eyes rolled over inside of his head, his mouth hanging loose like he was a doll. His face was a disaster, and his nose was nearly nonexistent, crushed flat from the fight.
Shaden felt sick. He watched in shock as the fallen man was dragged out of the ring. Those who appeared to be his comrades gathered around him, chanting healing magic and applying elixirs on his wounds.
The crowd, meanwhile, was cheering and howling as the man in dreadlocks walked around, raising his arms in victory, savage roars coming from his throat.
“Who dares challenge the mighty Sababa!” he hollered, and the crowd cheered with him. Shaden could feel a strong flow of mana coursing through the man’s body—his first time seeing someone with that much strength in Nafar. The man’s body was also nothing to scoff at; his great muscles bulged with every movement, shining under the torchlight. Or mana-light, whatever it was. They didn’t flicker, so it probably wasn’t fire.
Unlike the man who was full of intense energy, his opponent still lay lifelessly on the ground while his companions attempted to bring him back to consciousness. Immediately, Shaden knew what he had to do.
Walking up to them while slipping between the crowd, he tapped one of them on the shoulder. The man looked up angrily.
“What?!” he demanded.
“I can heal him,” Shaden told him, trying to lower his voice as low as possible. It sounded comical, but he didn’t know what else to do.
“Can’t you see that we’re healing him?” the man growled, waving his hand. “Shoo! I’ve never seen you before.”
Shaden watched as their attempts failed to bring back the man, and their expressions only darkened. He could feel the mana weakening within the fallen man.
“He’s going to die,” Shaden said, more loudly this time.
“No shit!” was the reply. “Well? Do something! Don’t just stand around there!”
The man moved out of the way as Shaden approached.
“You try anything suspicious, and I’m going to slit your throat,” the man promised, but his eyes were desperate. “Stop standing there and heal him!”
Shaden had never been good with dealing with violent people, and he would have been shaking if not for his circulation. But with his power flowing within him, he felt clear and unstoppable. He smiled at the man, though his face was hidden underneath his mask.
“Don’t worry,” he said.
Placing his hand on the man’s head while the others stepped back, Shaden healed the man, and the man’s body began to glow in green light. The bruises on his skin quickly faded away, and Shaden felt the mana inside of the man recover its strength. Shaden winced. The man’s skull had been cracked down the side, so he took his time to heal that too.
Within ten seconds, every wound had mended together and every blood-filled sac had subsided, leaving only a healthy body free of injuries. The man coughed, spewing blood out of his throat. He sat up and spat on the floor, shaking his head.
“By my father’s blood,” he groaned, “where am I?”
“He lives!” his companion cried, hugging him. “I was sure you were going to die!”
The commotion in the room was loud, but when the fallen man’s companions began to whoop their throats out, the noise was deafening. Shaden had to keep his balance as the men cried out words of praise and shoved a pouch of money into his hand, patting him on the back while shouting all the way.
“What is a man of your caliber doing here?”
It was one of the healers who’d asked him, but he looked more like a bouncer with all the weight he possessed.
“Even working at the Wall would earn you a greater sum,” he continued. “Are you from one of the larger arenas?”
Shaden shook his head because he didn’t know anything. So, there were larger ones.
“That’s a pity,” he murmured, then went away. Shaden didn’t know why he’d bothered asking.
He took a peek into the pouch and saw that it was filled with silver; there were a couple of large coins and many small ones. No gold, but that was okay. He’d seen Eshel pay two gold pieces for his instrument, and by the looks of it, what he’d earned was nowhere near that, but now he had something to work with.
Like betting, for example.
The defeated man and his companions had retreated to the side of the room, and another fight had begun with two different contestants this time. Shaden went to the man he’d spoken to and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Yes?” he said, more kindly this time. The change of attitude was obvious.
“How does one enter a contest?”
“You want to fight?” The man glanced over his body. “If you have concealed weapons or armor, don’t think about using them. No magic too. And, uh, your voice. Why use a child’s voice? That’s some weird magic you’re using.”
“I hope it’s allowed.”
“That much will be fine. You want a fight today?”
Shaden nodded.
“Then I’ll get you one right away. But underestimate this place, and you will end up dead.”
The man went to talk with someone, and within a minute, he was back.
“You’re going after,” he told him.
“That was quick.”
“Of course. These people want to see blood. What better place to get it than from a newbie?”
The man laughed and went back to his comrades. “Oh, and if you try to run,” he warned, “the guards will get you. Did I mention that this is a fight without forfeits? You either pass out or die!”
Everyone who was with him roared with laughter, and Shaden thought about sending them flying with a swipe of his hand, but he restrained himself. Sure, the man had been a jerk to him, but he’d given him the fight he wanted.
“Hey, but if you do want to give up, we’ll get you out!” the man added. “We owe you a favor.”
Shaden looked towards the group of men, and the one that had been knocked out waved to him casually. They were having drinks now. Shaden raised a hand and did an ok sign, though whether they understood or not, he didn’t know. They simply cheered for him.
He stood behind the crowd until the fight ended. Thankfully, there was far far less blood than before, as the man had taken a solid hit on the chin and passed out on the floor. His opponent didn’t bother to wreak havoc on his face and simply stepped out of the ring.
Now that Shaden was having a closer look at everything, there were teeth on the floor, and the earth was browner than usual. Dried blood, probably. He even saw some bone fragments buried under the dust.
The people processing the bets were easy to find, so he walked over to them, placed his pouch of money on the table, and pointed towards himself.
“Bet all of it on me,” he told them. The person raised an eyebrow, but counted the coins, wrote something on a small piece of paper, stamped it, then gave it to him.
Shaden took it and placed it inside of his pocket. The ring was being cleared, so he waited outside until they finished.
His opponent jumped in before him. It was the man in dreadlocks, Sababa. Or the mighty Sababa.
Really? Going against a newbie? The man’s eyes were filled with glee, and he licked his finger, daring Shaden to get on the ring.
“Are you going to run, newbie?” he taunted, baring his white teeth. “If you leave now, I’ll allow it. But you’ll lose the money! Ha!”
He laughed hysterically as if he’d told a good joke. The man was a beast, a deadly pounding machine of pure muscle. Not to mention that his circulation was impressive.
Shaden jumped on.
“Plates under the cloak won’t save you,” Sababa grinned, pounding his chest. He’d been healed, no doubt. “But I’ll allow it.”
The crowd was eating it up. Sababa was a celebrity.
Did he look that weak? Then again, he hadn’t changed anything except his height, so he would look skinny to everyone.
“Where are your friends? You’ll need someone to drag your corpse out of here!”
Was the man being serious? Or was it all a show? One thing Shaden knew was that the man in dreadlocks was ruthless, capable of breaking his enemy’s skull. There was no need to go easy on him.
No magic, right? That wasn’t a problem. Shaden breathed in and accelerated his circulation. The world felt clearer, and he could feel everything around him with extreme clarity. He pursed his lips. There hadn’t been any rules about covering his body with mana. Besides, his opponent was doing the same.
At least Sababa wasn’t underestimating him, despite his lax attitude. The man was dangerous.
“Fight, fight, fight!”
The crowd chanted, and Shaden and Sababa began to circle each other, testing the waters. This was Shaden’s first fight that wasn’t against Lytha and wasn’t about swords, so he was enjoying the thrill. This was a real fight. A great unknown he’d never experienced before. His heart was beating like a well-oiled engine. He was putting his life at risk here.
Shaden balled his fists. He’d been taught to use his palms, but he wanted to give the guy a good punch.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Then out of nowhere, the man rushed towards him, hands raised in front of his face. The wind swished as his fist flew past Shaden’s face, missing it by a hair’s breadth.
Shaden wanted to cry out in joy. This was much more fun than he’d expected. Another first—aimed at his stomach—came, and Shaden caught it, stopping it completely. But instantly, a kick was launched towards his face, and Shaden bent backwards, dodging it.
The other hand of the man was already on its way towards his throat, so Shaden spun around and threw the man, sending him flying over the ring. Sababa landed on the ropes and growled, immediately getting back up.
The crowd had momentarily gone silent, but now they were screaming their heads off. Shaden didn’t know whether or not they were cheers or cries of fear of losing money from betting.
“An attack-flowing technique,” Sababa snorted, cracking his neck. “Never expected to meet someone from the east here.”
Technique? Shaden had only thrown him. He didn’t reply, because it didn’t matter.
He closed his eyes when sand was kicked towards his face. It was a bother to dodge it, so he turned his head around. Already, he could feel the man running towards him. It was scary—the way Sababa moved so quickly.
Shaden clenched his fist and spun around just as his opponent was about to tackle him, landing his fist straight on the man’s jaw. His whole body swerved to the side from the force of the blow, and he crashed into the ropes again, limp.
Was using magic to make his fist very hard illegal? Or putting in more force through telekinesis? But technically, was it magic? Circulating wasn’t called magic, and neither was covering a sword with aura. Chanting and using other external devices drew the line between the two, but for Shaden, it was ambiguous.
Well, the other guy was doing it too. Or had been. He’d felt a crack after hitting the guy, and he’d probably broken his jaw. Shaden thought about healing the guy, but he’d rubbed him the wrong way. So he didn’t.
Meanwhile, a part of the crowd was cursing at Sababa to get up, while others were booing, and still others yelling inappropriate things. A handful were cheering for him, but it was mainly curses towards the fallen man.
“You fucking deserve that for underestimating him!” someone screamed.
“This was supposed to be easy money!” another complained.
“Finish him!” a man cheered.
They suddenly subsided then rose again with more positivity when Sababa stirred and put his hand on the floor, moving like a drunk man. He didn’t even wince as he pulled his jaw back into place, getting up on his feet, breathing heavily. His circulation was a mess, but it was still strong.
“Ha, you won’t do that again—” he yelled as Shaden’s palm slammed into his face, sending him flying across the room. Shaden made sure to flood the man’s head with his own mana and was satisfied when Sababa fell on the floor, completely knocked out. He looked even peaceful—as if he was asleep.
Shaden wasn’t sure if it was his mana that took the man down or his interruption of the man’s circulation, but he was happy with the results. The man was alive, but his mana was dormant now. Shaden climbed out of the ring and went to the betting table and handed the man his piece of paper. The man dumbly kept his eyes on the fallen fighter, as if expecting him to get up.
Shaden slapped the table, and the man jumped into motion.
The crowd only watched silently as his pouch was filled with gold coins, jingling each time they fell.
Shaden took the pouch and shook it near his ears. He loved the sound of money. He’d probably earned enough.
Just as he was about to head out, he was blocked by four muscular guards at the exit to the stairs.
“You didn’t pay the entrance fee,” the one at the front told him. “Half of your earnings. Hand it over.”
Shaden simply stood still.
“Pay the—”
The man’s hand fell on nothing as the black figure Shaden had crafted vanished into nothing. All that was left of the fighter was empty space. The guards shouted to each other to search the perimeters, and two of them began searching the crowd, while the other two went upstairs.
In reality, Shaden was leaning against the wall, waiting until the entrance cleared up. When no one was blocking the path, he strolled out of the place, stretching when emerged into the streets. It was very quiet outside, and the sight of the stars was a blessing to his eyes.
“Fun day,” he yawned, feeling the coins through the fabric. “I wonder what Eshel will think of this.”
Chuckling to himself, he jumped across the buildings until he eventually reached his bedroom and pulled the blankets over his body.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
Had he really done that?
Had he really risked his life to get some money?
Now that his circulation was slow, he thought about how stupid he’d been last night, waltzing into dangerous territory like that. And how would he explain the money to Eshel? Say that he stole it? With everyone’s initial image of him being a creepy fiend of darkness used to scare children, they’d think that he’d killed someone to get the money.
Now that he thought about it, there was no legal way he could imagine that could make a few golden coins so quickly. He scratched his cheek.
For now, he’d keep the money a secret. Or he would have if Eshel hadn’t walked into his room that morning to wake him up.
“Where did you get this?” she demanded, feeling a golden coin in her hand. Her voice was too loud for him in the morning, and he weakly got up, rubbing his eyes.
“Night activities,” he said absentmindedly.
“Night activities?” she scowled, returning the coin to the pouch. “Well, erm, good job? But you have more than what you should have.”
“Yeah. I did some fighting.”
“Fighting?” she raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you supposed to be secretive?”
“I had a good disguise.”
“With your height?”
“I have my mysterious ways,” he mumbled, yawning. Eshel yawned with him, then placed the money pouch back on the ground.
“But I hope that you, erm, don’t do anything dangerous,” she requested. “You know, I don’t know how I should treat you. Are you really a boy? Are you not some powerful spirit from Skotos who has taken the form of a boy?’
“I think I’m a normal, human child,” Shaden told her.
She didn’t look convinced. “Okay,” she said, crossing her arms. “Then get dressed. We will have breakfast soon.”
Shaden squinted at the sky. “Isn’t it a bit early?”
“Yes, but everything is quicker in the city.”
“Right.”
He’d wanted to stay tired for a while longer, but he couldn’t miss out on breakfast. Energizing his body through his mana, he stretched and changed while Eshel waited outside of the room, leaning against the wall.
“So, where did you go?” she asked curiously.
“Some kind of underground arena,” he replied, pulling his head through a shirt. “The entrance was disguised as a tavern.”
“How did you find it?”
“Magic.”
“You do know it’s illegal to participate in such matches, no?”
“Now I know.”
“Did you...kill anyone?”
“What do you take me for?” Shaden said, walking out. “Some kind of cold-blooded murderer? No way. I’m just a child. It was a fight, but all I did was push them out of the ring.”
And crack their jawbone, but he decided not to mention that.
Eshel sighed. “Just—don’t let my sister know. And don’t let Keyga know.”
“Where is he, anyway?” Shaden asked as they made their way through the hall and down the stairs. “You always bring him along.”
“How should I know?” she grumbled. “He went to talk to the animals. He’s not very sociable. Maybe you could talk to him and convince him to stop vanishing. And that applies to you as well.”
“Uh-huh,” Shaden said.
“Was I like this? I was never like this. I always did what my siblings told me to, and whenever there was a chore that they didn’t want to do, I was the one who volunteered, yes? And then mother passed away, and everything was bad, and I had to take care of Keyga, but nobody cared about how hard I worked—”
She breathed in and sighed deeply. “Aren’t you supposed to be the guardian of the families, akin to a mystical protector? Maybe you’ll bring some luck into my life.”
Shaden cleared his throat. “Well, I—”
“I’m simply jesting,” Eshel snorted, ruffling his hair. “As if a child of ten could do anything. Just do what I ask, and that will make me happy, yes?”
“I’m alright at following instructions.”
“That means not going to dangerous places,” she stressed, “and asking me if you want to go anywhere.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m your responsibility.”
“Good.”
Shaden could tell that she was a hard worker. She was always busy working on this, taking care of that. While her pushy personality and loud voice were a little unfamiliar to him, he didn’t dislike it—at least now he didn’t. It was new; it was friendly. It was probably the reason why he’d been able to feel comfortable around everyone, because she was taking it upon herself to forge relations between him and everyone else, albeit forcefully, but with good intent.
He found her annoying sometimes, but he could sympathize.
“I think everyone trusts you a lot,” he said. “That’s why they’re letting you take care of me, right?”
“It’s because I’m the youngest who can bear the responsibility.”
“I’ve seen the way people treat you. You’re liked by everyone.”
“Because we’re family. Are you trying to comfort me?”
Shaden shrugged.
“Thank you. You’re a sweet boy, no?” she grinned, pinching him on the cheeks.
It hurt.
When she let go, Shaden held in a yowl while rubbing his face, holding in the urge to scream while his skin cried in agony. The pain went away soon enough, but he was left with annoyance and a bad taste in his mouth.
“That hurt,” he said.
“Did it?” she replied cheerfully.
Shaden wanted to smack her. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt like that.
Breakfast was served—thin slices of oven-baked bread and small fish marinated in sweet and salty sauce with a thick aroma that wasn’t unpleasant. Shaden had never eaten fish the size of an adult finger before, and he found it surprisingly good. The bones were soft enough to chew through, and he especially liked the fact that he could eat it whole without spitting out the little needles that threatened to rip through his throat.
There was also a vegetable dish similar to spinach but much mellower and softer, baked in cheese and spices that went incredibly well with the bread. There wasn’t as much meat as there had been at the settlement, but he liked the new flavor. He’d been eating too much meat as of late.
“You have a good appetite,” Eshel commented, swallowing a bite of fish. “Do you like the food?”
“Yeah. I haven’t had fish in a while.”
“That’s good. There’s smoked, grilled, pickled, salted fish—”
Eshel pounded the table with her fist. “I want to eat meat.”
“You could ask.”
“That’s rude!”
Shaden didn’t know why she was complaining to him. And while they were eating, Keyga suddenly came in through the door, stuffed a large bowl he was carrying with some fish, bread, and cheesy greens, then went out while his sister shouted to him to sit down and eat properly. Keyga stuck his tongue out and ran off when Eshel got up from her seat, fist raised.
“That boy!” she growled, bashing her fist against the table, strong enough to make the plates jingle. It was good that there was no one at the table but them, because Shaden suspected that if Shaya had seen what was going on, she wouldn’t be too happy about it.
While Eshel began small talk with one of the servant girls, Shaden went back to his room to practice his flute. He’d managed to make a sound—a meager, airy whoosh—nothing like the deep, beautiful tone he’d heard at the shop.
At least surrounding the flute with his mana made him able to sense it better. He spent a good hour trying to replicate the mouth position drawing, moving his lips so that the flow of air inside of the flute would sound similar to a decent note. When he’d finally achieved that clear, rich tone and had played five notes, the flute was already drenched inside with water, so he stopped playing.
Shaden carefully cleaned the instrument with the wiping stick and cloth, then quickly dried the cloth itself before returning everything to the box. He would throw it away, but while he was here, he’d keep it. The box was a secure place to store the flute, more than the padded sack.
He inspected the fingerings once more. There were four holes at the front of the instrument, and one at the back for the left thumb. He’d thought that it would be fairly simple to play since the flute clearly had five notes in total, but he quickly realized his mistake when the paper showed that each hole could be partially covered to create a total of forty-one notes. Not to mention the unrecorded notes between the chromatic scale.
The way the music was read was vastly different from the one he was familiar with. Instead of notes, symbols were used. Somehow, he understood them, but it took a while to completely wrap his head around the concept.
He’d have to memorize every single fingering and its corresponding note. Then learn the additional fingers that produced the same sound, but made it easier to transition from certain fingerings.
Shaden was good at memorizing things, but whether that applied to muscle memory as well, he didn’t know. He simply hoped that his circulation would help him improve quickly.
Would he be able to reproduce his skills as Demund? Shaden suddenly had a wonderful thought. If he was able to master an instrument as Shaden and was able to bring it over to Demund, then his parents and friends would applaud him, and he’d be able to show off to everyone he met. Musicians were attractive, and Demund wanted to be attractive.
“This could work,” Shaden told himself. Whether or not the waking world had a similarly structured flute, he’d have to find out.
Until then, he’d have to find a way to the Wall of Arrows. It had been his original purpose of coming east. He’d forgotten to ask Shaya during dinner the other day, but today, he’d remember. During lunch—or dinner if she was too busy.
Meanwhile, he wanted to ease the boredom he had. Taking his bag of coins, he went to Eshel’s room where she was reading a book while leaning against some fluffy cushions, fanning her body near the window. The Jakhar Kishaks were diligent, every single one of them.
“Eshel,” Shaden said, jingling his coins. Her eyes shot up and looked at him.
“Yes?”
“Should we go shopping?”
“Oho, so you’ve decided to spend it!” she smiled, placing her book down. “Will you buy me something?”
“If you want anything!”
“Then, I’ll take you up on your offer.”
She got up and stretched, looking out of the window. “Would you mind if I brought Keyga with us?”
“Not at all.”
“Excellent!”
Shaden smiled. Eshel was too transparent, and her glee was evident on her face and actions. It was her who hurried him downstairs, going to where the animals were to call for her brother who’d fallen asleep within a herd of sheep.
When he groaned and said he wouldn’t go, she pulled him up and carried him like a princess, after which he was much more willing to follow.
“Do you think this will make me feel better?” he snorted, crossing his arms.
It did, and it was Keyga who tried out the various food stalls the most as they walked through the streets. At the end of the day, they’d used around two-thirds of the money Shaden had earned. Eshel had bought herself a small pearl necklace, and Keyga had gotten himself a wooden toy of a dragon. Shaden didn’t get anything, because he already had plenty. The silver bracelet Eilae had gifted him was enough for him—any more accessories and he'd be too fancy. He liked to keep things simple.
Someone had attempted to steal his bracelet, but Shaden had tripped them, and the city guards had chased after the criminal. Keyga seemed to look at him with reverence since then. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the toy dragon or the feat of awesomeness, but Shaden felt great.
It had been a great decision to come to the capital.
And everything would have proceeded smoothly—
Had it not been for the wyvern that suddenly barged into the place the next morning.