Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to be an Afterburner. I can’t complain of the hallowmancies I was blessed with, but still. I look at their faces and see a euphoria that seems bordering on insanity.

Legosia hates how many of them flit around the city like fireflies, but my subjects seem to appreciate them all the more… Perhaps a—

‘Forgive the scraps. I would have recovered more of the entry if someone had not intruded on my writing session. But that’s the price you pay in this field sometimes. The later notes, I assure you, won’t be truncated.’

-From The Last King of Elneshe’s 3rd Note, annotated by the King of Thieves

Fezashi wanted to be strong. Father had always said that Bladeborn were blessed with their powers. To Fezashi, a young and hopeful boy, that meant you could earn it as a blessing. Maybe if he had followed the form of a weapon like Bladeborn did, the universe would recognize him as one?

It was in this pursuit that he tried to prove his bravery. Today, that test of bravery came in the form of a tree. It was a single solitary apple tree in between the plains and the stronghold that was out by itself.

Fezashi saw the tree first when he was walking around with his father. He was worrying so much over the state of the stronghold that he dragged Fezashi off even as he’d wanted to stay and cut it down. But today his dad was busy, so that meant he could climb it all he wanted.

Fezashi gripped the side of the tree with his hands. He thought it looked good, but just for good measure he asked Rozu.

“Do you think I’ll make it?” Fezashi asked.

Rozu was a tanned Bladeborn who embodied everything Fezashi wanted to be. He had short spiky hair with some tiny braids hanging off the side of his face, wore his uniform with style, and looked hardened as any hero should. When Rozu looked at him, Fezashi tried to make his grip look stronger.

“It’ll work. Just don’t hurt yourself,” Rozu said and Fezashi smiled despite the fact he wasn’t paying attention.

“I won’t! Just you watch!” Fezashi said, as he began his climb. The branches on the way were no trouble for him, even if he did get a few scratches on himself. But those he could bear. Bladeborn never complained about wounds, so why should he?

At the top of the tree, He finally found it. A single apple hung off of the tree, leaves hiding it. But Fezashi had good eyes. He reached out for the apple, since the branch it was above was too thin to walk across.

When his arms proved too short to reach even that, Fezashi reluctantly stood up on the tree. Careful… he thought to himself as his legs shook. But he moved forward despite that.

Just as the apple came into sight, Fezashi reached out with his hand. He tried tugging it free, but underestimated how strongly it was attached. When he did, Fezashi put himself off balance and stifled a yelp.

No! Bladeborn didn’t call for help. Instead, he yanked the apple free, steadying himself on the branch. When it stopped moving, Fezashi finally looked down, feeling like the ground was further than a cliff bottom.

He turned around slowly, putting a foot in front of the other to get down as carefully as he could. And then he slipped.

Fezashi finally yelled out, the fall feeling like years. Wind swept by him and he let his scream hang in the air. At least until he realized he should have hit the ground by now. Fezashi opened his eyes, not knowing he’d closed them to find himself in the arms of Rozu.

The Bladeborn stared at him like any adult would a child. Condescendingly. Despite Rozu saving him, Fezashi still grunted.

“Let me go!” he said, and Rozu did so. Fezashi saw his eyebrows twist further into a glare, but he didn’t care.

“You don’t need to save me. I can do it myself,” Fezashi said.

“Really? You can turn yourself upright in the air like an Afterburner?” Rozu asked.

“Y-yeah!” he lied, but Rozu didn’t need to know that. His guard just sighed in response.

“Whatever. Let’s just get you back to your father. He should be done working by now.”

Fezashi gripped the apple close to himself as he walked. Rozu didn’t seem to consider it anything of note, but Fezashi was entranced with it. Despite the bruising, he thought it looked perfect.

“Give me your knife,” Fezashi asked.

“Not giving you my knife,” Rozu replied.

“Come on! I’ll give it back!” Fezashi begged. When Rozu didn’t respond, Fezashi kept begging all the way to the entrance of Latren.

“Fine!” he finally agreed, pulling a knife out of a little sheath he had and handing it to Fezashi.

The boy turned the apple over in his hands and cut away the bruised portion. The inside looked good, so he made two pieces of the apple and held one up to Rozu along with his knife.

“Take it,” Fezashi told him. Rozu let his hand hang in the air for a second before taking the piece and shoving it in his mouth. He sheathed the knife again as Fezashi chewed on his piece. By the time he was done, they had already walked through the gates of Latren and into the temporary room of his father.

His father wasn’t much of a fighter, so they wouldn’t be staying long at the stronghold, Fezashi assumed.

His dad stood at the front of a table with another Colonel. The Colonel looked to be an old and wrinkled soldier who simply nodded as they entered. His dad was the more prominent one between them, considering how portly and wide he was. Some thought only hallowmancers had enhanced strength, but Fezashi was pretty sure that his dad had some of that too considering he could hold up all of his children at once.

When they had entered the room, Rozu had pressed his fists and bobbed them in front of himself. So Fezashi repeated the gesture and got a smile from his father in response.

Fezashi’s father came around the table and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“Thanks for taking care of him, Katar,” Father said.

“No problem, sir.” He seemed to glance between him and Fezashi though, which got the boy wondering what he was thinking.

“Are you done with your work here then, minister Fersh?” Rozu asked to his father’s confusion.

“Yes, quite. Just needed to have a bit of a chat with the colonel,” he replied, pointing back towards the man in question.

“You both should probably head back then,” the colonel finally spoke up. His voice was deep and authoritative, making even Fezashi uncomfortable. When his father looked back even more confused, the colonel opened his mouth again.

“Might be an attack tonight. No place for a child or a civilian, Fersh, you understand?” the colonel said.

“Ah, right. Thank you for your time, colonel,” his father said in turn.

“I’ll have some Afterburners carry you off then. Goodbye, Fersh,” the colonel said succinctly, turning his attention to the map laid out before him on the table.

Fezashi had to go as well, though he was a bit sad to. By the entrance of the stronghold, two Afterburners dropped by and greeted them. Fezashi didn’t catch their names, as his attention was solely on Rozu. The man had guarded him only for a day or so, but he still saw him off.

Fezashi smiled and waved back as the Afterburners carried him and his father away. Rozu didn’t wave back, he just smiled a little as the boy and his father were taken away on a small carriage.

****

Rozu was glad to see the kid gone. An assignment to a minister’s son, no matter how prestigious, had never really suited the man. He liked more to be out in the skirmishes, after all. But when an order came down from someone like a colonel, a soldier was expected to obey.

Rozu was just glad the boy had gone back before the battle began. He walked back into Latren to find the others preparing. Bladeborn were counting out their bewllan crystals and polishing their weapons.

Rozu double-checked his own belongings, placing an arm on the handle of his Katar, the weapon who’s Form he’d taken. Short and pointed, a quick death to his enemies. He walked over to his own squadron by the barracks, grimacing at their condition.

Tanz was supposed to be readying them, but he’d gone off somewhere Rozu didn’t know. The normal soldiers they worked with were idling around, talking and mingling instead of preparing.

Rozu let some of his bewl enter his body and clapped his hands to get the attention of the whole squadron.

“What are you all doing? Don’t you see everyone else preparing?” Rozu asked them, and none of the soldiers had a response. Rozu waited for a response, until one finally came from a hesitant soldier.

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“Sorry, hallowed sir. We weren’t given any commands to prepare, so we thought there was no need?” the soldier— a lanky and awkward looking fellow— said.

“Tell me, if the whole of the country was burning down, would you still not prepare?”

“W-what?” the man asked.

“If Ravenishtan burned down tomorrow. Or if Phasgoria got the Weapon before us, are you going to watch as they slaughter everyone?” Rozu asked.

“No!”

“Then start preparing,” Rozu said, leaving the soldier and others to start gathering their equipment. He watched them prepare weapons, bandages, trinkets and whatnot that they thought would help in the coming fight. They took an infuriatingly long time to complete their preparations, Rozu having to hound them to speed up.

“You’re not going to survive by being as slow as sloths!” he shouted. After being satisfied, he left them and found Tanz outside, walking back into the room. The oaf froze upon seeing Rozu.

“Where were you?” Rozu asked him.

“The Colonel. He, uh, said I should take Minister Fersh and his son back to the camps,” Tanz explained.

“Hmph. Be quicker next time. It’s embarrassing for an Afterburner,” Rozu replied. He walked out of the room and took to the walls, looking at the field outside. The bewl pool near his stomach beckoned him to use it. It wasn’t an organ, he knew, but just as present in his body. He wanted to be out there, running through the ranks instead of waiting.

As he watched, the soldiers began coming out of the stronghold. Some of them stayed behind but the ones outside formed ranks. The chill in the air rose as the sun set, making a few soldiers shiver before they steeled themselves.

Rozu looked over at his squadron, hoping they were well-equipped for the coming battle. And then, the first soldier appeared.

Four small red dots appeared in the distance, the signature of the Afterburner sobering up the soldiers. Rozu clenched the wall with his hands, looking down at the somewhat long drop. The pouch opposite to his Katar was filled with all the materials that he would need for his powers. Beside that, a pouch of crystals for replenishing his bewl.

Assimilate, integrate, become, Rozu repeated to himself. The mantra of the Devourer, he who becomes what he consumes.

When the Afterburner retreated, some of the soldiers relaxed, but then the rest of the army came forward. A mass of forces on the horizon, an overwhelming number of them. Some of the soldiers near the stronghold let out a cry, but most were quiet as the enemy approached.

“Soldiers, FORM UP!” someone shouted and a squadron moved forward. Rozu saw their shields being raised up, a wall to hold back their enemies. Hmph, Rozu chuckled, pride in his tone.

“Shouldn’t you be down there, sir?” a soldier with a spear asked.

“Wait a second,” Rozu replied.

He waited and waited, right up till the moment he finally saw the glow of the other Bladeborn. Ranks of Afterburners flying, with Devourers running ahead and Planars forming portals. Time to get to work.

Rozu jumped over the wall, the soldier beside him yelping. He flooded his body with bewl, strengthening himself as landed. The shock went through his system, but didn’t deter him. He began to run through the battlefield, rummaging through his pouch as he did.

Stone, copper, wood…. iron! He grasped the little piece of metal and shoved it into his mouth. A malignant glow, the colour of purple, rose from his mouth. Rozu ran forward, feeling his body slow down as the change spread across him. He grew heavier, so much heavier that his body began to take on a slight shine.

When he reached the first group of soldiers standing in his way, he didn’t even stop. Rozu charged through their formation, tossing them aside. The soldiers went flying, crying at the Bladeborn’s strength.

To his sides, Rozu grabbed a soldier in each hand. He held their necks and squeezed until they cracked, throwing the bodies back into the still standing spearmen. The group of soldiers dispersed and Rozu looked around, before something kicked him in the face.

He skirted backwards on the grass, his feet digging into the dirt. An Afterburner was above him and Rozu clenched his leg tightly.

“You should’ve thought before coming down,” Rozu said with a glare. With his iron-like body, he broke the Afterburners foot as the man stifled a scream. He kicked at Rozu’s head with his other foot and a mix between a thud and a clang rang out.

Unconsciously, Rozu let go and the Afterburner blasted away on his jets. Tsk, You’re lucky this time. A few more soldiers were nearing him, but other Bladeborn jumped on top of them. Rozu looked backwards and saw that Tanz was near him, along with the only other Bladeborn in his squadron, Raisho and Sazir.

They were Devourers like him, Raisho with a hawkish face and Sazir being the only woman in their squadron respectively.

“We need to pull back, leader!” Raisho told him as he speared another soldier.

“You and Tanz handle that. I’m going ahead!” Rozu shouted over the noises of clanging metal and men’s screams. Raisho pried his spear out of the solder and gave him an incredulous look.

No sooner than Rozu had left his squadron did he run into an ambush. He’s crested the hill, coming down only to find a volley of fire lances firing at him.

Rozu held his arms up as the hot stones pierced him. They didn’t go through his skin thankfully, stopping just short of a bruise. Had he taken more iron, he’d have been too slow to react. But he wasn’t an inexperienced fool.

Rozu jumped down in the middle of the group and pulled out his Katar. The soldiers looked slow to react in his sped-up vision, giving him time to take a stab. He pierced three of them through the throat, blood splashing on his tattered clothing as he turned on the rest.

One of the soldiers held another fire lance right in his face and Rozu dropped the Katar. He took the lance by the haft and pointed it back into his own group. When it exploded, it riddled with holes. Rozu took the used lance out of the soldier’s hands and smashed the end into his face.

Blood sprouted from the man’s nose as he stumbled back. Rozu grabbed him by the collar and plunged his Katar into his stomach. The soldier stuttered for a bit, coughing up blood onto Rozu’s face. Then he collapsed onto the ground, clutching his abdomen.

Rozu looked around at the other soldiers, who were frozen in fear. He swept his Katar to the side, throwing the blood off of the blade. Then he went back into the group slashing.

Barely a minute later, the entire ambush had been subdued. Rozu felt at his bewl pool and how much it had drained, picking up some crystals that he kept on himself to replenish it. Shots of fire, screaming and splattering noises echoed around him as he moved forward. The sheen on his skin faded, and Rozu was left with only his strength enhancement running.

He stopped, looking out over the horizon at the battlefield. Bladeborn engaged with each other while soldiers tried rushing towards the stronghold. He was about to go back himself when someone caught his eye.

In the distance, Rozu saw a lone figure surrounded by bodies. The figure was of a man, but so frail and thin that Rozu couldn’t reconcile him as a warrior. He wore voluminous robes and had skin too light for a Phasgorian, yet he was fighting soldiers of Ravenishtani colours. And his hair was a stark white streak held in a ponytail, similar to the long beard he held.

Rozu watched as the old man effortlessly turned aside attacks with his hands. He used an esoteric looking martial art to fight his opponents. Rozu watched as the old man disarmed a Ravenishtani soldier, and then… did nothing? What’s he up to?

The old man spoke something, inaudible to Rozu. And then the soldier ran, leaving the old man by himself once more.

Rozu ran over to the martial artist, not bothering with Devouring anything beforehand. When he came into the figure’s line of sight, the old man looked up.

“Hello there. Can I help you?” the old man asked. Rozu was bewildered enough that he took a second to respond.

“Who are you, old man?” Rozu asked him bluntly.

“I am Dero V…Shrine. Dero Shrine,” the man said, as if sounding out the words for the first time. Dero waited for Rozu to give his name in turn, but when the boy refused, he spoke again.

“You should leave,” the man said, and Rozu moved forward out of defiance.

“Can’t do that when you’re being such a thorn in our sides, can I?” Rozu replied, readying his hand on his Katar.

“I don’t wish to kill anyone. Why come here to me when you could be helping your army?” Dero asked.

“’Don’t wish to kill anyone?’ Maybe you should have picked a better place for your pacifism than a battlefield, then,” Rozu scoffed.

“And that intrigued you enough to make you ignore every other Bladeborn on the battlefield?” Blasts rang out further away, no doubt cannons from the stronghold.

“You can kill them, but choosing not to makes you enough of a threat that I’m not going to ignore it.”

In an instant, Rozu pushed bewl into his body, lunging towards the old man. He swiped down with his Katar, but the old man moved just enough to avoid it. Dero slammed his palm into Rozu’s side and he growled. He swished the Katar upward, forcing the old man to retreat.

Rozu’s ears rang as he righted himself. He shuffled around in his pockets for something to Devour, but his hand came back empty.

“Oh dear, you should try not to lose your belongings so easily. That’s why I always bring two,” Dero taunted, dangling Rozu’s pouch like a prize. Rozu’s face twisted further into hate as he rushed towards the old man.

Swipe after swipe, his Katar missed. As it did, he let out a shout and punched with his other hand.

The surprising blow clipped the old man on the nose. Dero jumped backwards, his twisted nose starting to bleed. That was… too easy. He’d barely felt any resistance when he’d hit the man. Like what he’d hit wasn’t solid at all.

Dero didn’t wait for him to finish his rumination, however. He raised a hand to his nose and righted it, holding out his hands in a fighting stance.

“Are you going to get serious, old man?” Rozu taunted.

“Just enough.”

And then he came upon Rozu. Quick as lightning, he slammed a hand into his stomach, making him heave. Dero went low, pushing Rozu into the air with his embedded fist. Then, just as quick, he craned his leg up to kick Rozu in the stomach once more, making him spit up saliva.

H-how is he so fast? Rozu questioned. He fell onto the ground clutching his stomach. He struggled to stand up, coughing all the while. My bewl’s running out. I need to… but Rozu’s thoughts were cut off when he saw Dero ruffling through his clothes. He grabbed Rozu’s pouch of crystals as well and threw them to the side.

Bewllan fell out of the little cloth, rolling onto the grass and lighting up the area around itself. Rozu tried to crawl towards the crystals, but someone stepped in his path.

He looked up to see the old man staring down at him. Stop it…

“Most people would be begging by now,” Dero said, his politeness all but gone. He stood as a wall in Rozu’s path. Stop looking at me…

“Were you really that confident in your powers?” Dero asked, his skin seeming to turn into a slightly darker shade. And Rozu noticed it too, how he seemed more solid, how his hair swayed less in the wind. He hadn’t realized the subtle change in his body before, how easily he was evading, how fast he was stepping.

“Paper… is not a very dense material, you see. But it does make a Devourer’s body more pliable, quicker and easier to move, w-”

“Shut. Up.”

Dero looked down to see a manic look on the man before him. He had such anger in his eyes that it looked like they were about to pop. His whole body was shaking and he’d dragged his fingernails through the dirt so hard they’d begun to bleed.

“Soldiers usually do not have this kind of fury. Tell me, why are you so angry?” Dero asked, unconcerned with the state of the boy.

Rozu’s strength chose that moment to run out. The wounds still on his body— that he’d refused to fix— became all the more distracting. I’m going to die, he thought, afraid. Sweat began to bead on his forehead at the realization, forcing his mind into overdrive on what to do. How to fight him. How to escape, if he couldn’t fight back.

Then he realized the answer was in his hands all along.

“H-how… did you do it?” Rozu whispered. It caught Dero’s interest.

“What did you say?” he asked, bending down a little.

“How did you do it? I didn’t see you put anything in your mouth,” Rozu asked shakily. Dolish held out his hand and flexed his fingers.

“Sleight of hand. Would do a Devourer well to learn it.”

“Really?” Like this? He threw the handful of dirt in his hand at the old man’s face. Dero flinched and stepped backwards, wincing as his eyes were forced shut. Rozu rose up, trying to gauge whether to go for the crystals or not.

But his decision was made when the old man began to rub his eyes on his robes. He turned tail and fled as fast as he could, hoping for the tiniest sliver of bewl to come back into his pool. He ran from Phasgorians, Ravenishtanis, anyone who came close. Not when he was so vulnerable. Not when even a single arrow could kill him. Even if he looked insane. Even if he looked like a coward.

When he saw some of the bewildered glances of the soldiers around him, he retreated into himself. Their stares were filled with confusion more than the fear they had when he began shearing through their ranks. Stop looking at me like I’m some fool!