Chapter 7:

             45 Days After Fall’s Beginning

                   146 Days After The Ra’tok Attack Amia Village

                          The Valley of Ivory, Tarna

                                  Talri Clan Training Grounds

Taras is merciless. He has spent the last couple days making me run around the yard, go through an obstacle course, carry weights and more. Sometimes he makes me do all of it at once!

I haven’t  learned any fighting at all. He says that I need to train my body first. I think he just likes to watch me sweat.

Taras has mentioned a few times that this training is nothing compared to what Ayria is going to make me do.

I have tried to gather information about this Ayria, but thus far everyone is tight lipped. The other warriors in training have not been any help, more often than not they brush me off, ignoring me.

With a grunt, I toss down the heavy ball Taras made me carry while doing my morning run. Gulping breaths of air, I walk over to Taras, who is surveying his students as they go through motions of wielding a spear.

He looks me over with a critical eye, “I think you’re ready to be taught how to use that spear of yours. Go over to that rack and grab two of the wooden spears.”

I do as instructed, grabbing two of the wooden poles with a spear head shaped tip.

Taras takes one of the wooden spears from me. He twirls it and stops, pointing the tip at me.

“Show me what you know, I’ll see where we start from there.” He says, a grin appearing through his beard.

Holding the spear in two hands, I jab forward, aiming for his chest. He easily deflects it and I bring my spear around for an sideways swing.

Taras moves to block it, but I adjust the course of my spear, avoiding his block. But in an instant, his spear is there again, deflecting my stab.

I didn’t even see him move!

With a step forward, I take a more aggressive push.

I swipe at his ankles, hoping to catch him off guard. But he sees the swing coming and jumps over it, hitting my spear and guiding it under his feet.

With a grunt, I shift to the right, following my spear. I bring it up, lancing forward at Taras’s side.

The muscled man effortlessly shifts out of the way, knocking my spear to the ground.

I move my hands down the shaft of my spear, gripping it upside down. I bring its butt over his spear and aim for his hand.

He flicks his wrist with Steel enhanced speed, the shaft of his spear blocks mine once again.

I take steps back, distancing myself from him.

How do I hit him? He’s too fast!

I run to the left, hoping to out maneuver him.

Feinting towards a jab at his head, I slide in the sand, kicking at his feet. Taras moves with a blur, stepping around my kick. The point of his spear whacks me on the head, hard.

Dazed, I stare at the point of the wooden spear at my throat.

With a swish, the point vanishes and Taras stretches his hand out for me. I grab it and let him lift me to my feet.

“A reckless, amateurish recreation of how to poke someone to death. You left yourself open so many times I could have made you look like swiss cheese! You didn’t even force me to block. You should know to never, ever, let yourself fall to the ground, that's how you die! But at least your footwork is good and you understand that you have to keep moving.” He says gruffly, glaring over my shoulder, he barks, “Get back to work or I’ll tan your hides!”

I look behind me and watch as the group of eight year olds scuttle back to their positions, moving through a set form of spear movements.

“This one thanks you for the spar,” I bow my head to Taras.

He slaps me on the side of the head, and I reel back in surprise.

“Don’t do that! You are a warrior, show some backbone!” He growls, then brings up his spear. He moves through the same set of motions the children are. But his movements are concise, fast and crisp, flowing from one move into the next. He explains, “I want you to go through these motions, until you can perform them right.”

Finishing, he fishes out a scrap of paper from his pocket and hands it to me.

I can see the forms he showed, a blank figure with a spear captured in the motions.

I start to reflexively bow my head and thank him, but snap my mouth shut. Then I say, “Of course, sir.”

Walking to the back of the group of children, I start to slowly go through the motions on the roll of paper.

I hold my spear at my side, then swiftly and clumsy swing it in a horizontal arc.

Taking a step forward, I jab straight with the spear.  But my hand still shifts somewhat.

With every move I make, I can see all my mistakes: how I don’t swing hard enough or not keeping my spear steady. My jabs range from going wide to accurate; I can feel how slow my swing is.

Twisting my spear, I jab downward, right about where someone's gut would be. Then I whirl around, slashing at about chest level.

I’m breathing heavily, but it’s nothing compared to when I cycle. I push on through the exhaustion, going through all the motions, then repeat them again and again. Endlessly.

When I start to feel my muscles shaking, not thinking, I send Katra from my core into my limbs. I feel a rush of strength, far more than I’m used too. My Pure katra usually only barely staves off exhaustion.

When I realize what I just did, I stop. Quickly closing my eyes, I focus on my left arm. The crystals are all glowing dimly, not like the ripple from before. Scanning over my entire body, I can see all the crystals near my limbs are growing and that they are sending ripples outwards.

Looking at my neck, I can see as more crystals sprout up.

Cutting off the flow of katra, I watch as the growth of the crystals slows down, then eventually stops.

It’s up to my jawline now.

I’m a little worried about what will happen when they reach my brain. Will I lose myself? Go insane? Be perfectly fine?

Looking into my core, I can still see a sizable amount of the Gray katra curled at the bottom.

Taking in a deep breath, I open my eyes. Sitting down, I wipe sweat and sand off my face.

Then I realize that I’m the only one still here training in the spear. I can see the 8 year olds running through the obstacle course, Taras on their heels shouting obscenities and telling them to move faster.

I watch as the children jump from pole to pole, swinging, leaping and grappling up walls. They are all moving far faster than I would ever be able too. I don’t have the katra reserves to reinforce my body and speed it up.

One of the children slips off a pole. He twists himself mid air, throwing a hand out and catching himself on the edge of the pole. He struggles to get back up, and after a few seconds hauls himself up, then continues with the course.

How am I going to get my revenge if an 8 year old is stronger than me?

With renewed vigor, I go through the motions on the scroll, slowly refining my movements.

I start to lose myself in the rhythm. A hand slaps me on the back of the head, hard enough to get attention and hurt.

“Put your whole body weight in the movement, you fool. The spear is an extension of your arm, not something in your hand. Keep your feet farther apart and shift your balance when you move!” Taras yells in my ear, then steps back, crossing his arms. He gives me a scowl, motioning to do what he says.

An extension of my arm and not my arm? How does that work?

I spread my feet further apart, trying to put my weight in my swings. Shifting my balance as I move my feet through the movements.

Surprised, I find that I am swinging more accurately and slightly faster.

Taras keeps telling me how to move, periodically wandering off to his students to “motivate” them.

By the time the sun is setting, my muscles feel like mush and my lungs deflated. My back aches and I can hear every word Taras has yelled at me over and over again.

But my movements have become more fluid, slightly more refined and I at least have a grasp of how to use my spear properly.

With weak knees, I walk to the “mess hall” but I would call it more akin to a restaurant that you don’t have to pay for.

There are benches and rows upon rows of tables. They are crowded with guards, soldiers in training and children, all eating and chatting. Just about everyone on the Clan barrack’s grounds is here.

I go to the back of the hall, towards the buffet of food. Grabbing a wooden plate, I stack it high with meat, rolls, vegetables and a few sweets.

Balancing my plate, I walk to the back of the mess hall, taking a seat along a wall. It might be because of my time in the jungle and my paranoia, but I can't help  feeling like I need to be ready to fight in an instant.

Replaying my fight with Taras in my head, I wince at remembering when I slid. It was a desperate action to try and hit him once. Even if I had hit him, he would still have been able to kill me.

Shoveling a fork full of roasted and seasoned chicken into my mouth, I glance around me. There aren’t many people in the back of the hall. I’m sitting alone at my own table and thats suits me fine.

Looking at all the people here, I can see various groups. The most obvious are the age groups. The children are more densely packed in areas, though a few sit with the adults. I can pick out various groups of guards chatting, and the ques of young soldiers in training.

All the trainees are around my age, maybe younger, most likely due to the fact that at 15 they are sent off.

The oldest people here are the Clan’s guards, ranging from their 30’s to their 40’s. They wear gambeson with chest pieces and pauldrons. They are the only people wearing metal armor.

So far the worst that the other students had done to me was ignore me. Some glared and I had heard a few of their mocking whispers, but that was about it. Though I still kept an eye out for anything hostile from them.

Movement towards me catches my eye.

A woman holding a plate of food in one hand and in the other she carries a staff. She seems to be about 20, with brownish black hair. Her eyes stare straight forward, and are colored a pale brown, almost honey colored.

She looks directly at me, her eyes seemingly staring through me. Pursing her lips, she walks over to my table. Her staff clacks on the ground in front of her.

I tense up, reaching for the scripted dagger in the sheath at my hip. Then I stop myself. This is not the Jungle of The Gods…

Sitting down across from me, she spears a carrot and pops it in her mouth. Staring intently at me, her eyes scanning over me.

Uncomfortable I open my mouth, “Is-”

“What are you?” She interrupts me, taking another bite of her food.

“Excuse me?” I ask confused.

Her unblinking and seemingly dead stare burrows into me. Her expression twists in annoyance. “I can’t see you. Almost like you yourself are a eating my katra, absorbing it like an artifact. But that shouldn’t be possible.”

I blink, looking intently at her eyes. I move my hand back and forth, they don't follow, but she swats my hand away.

Glaring she says, “Yes, I am blind. And a cripple. Now, what are you?”

“I’m a human. You’re a cripple? As in unable to use katra?”

She takes a bite of chicken leg, looking at me. “Not unable to use katra, just not use it well. What are you doing that hides you from my sight?”

I hold up my right arm, “This is an artifact, from what I know, no one can see into it’s barrier that surrounds me. Not even Silvers. I’m a cripple as well.”

A expression of understanding starts to dawn on her face, “You’re Kardin, the boy the elders let into the clan!”

“Yes. And you are?”

She gives me a wicked grin, “I am to be your advanced fighting teacher. I am Ayria Shurak.”

It takes my brain a second to connect the dots. The warriors and no one else would talk to me about her. They were ashamed of her, maybe even hated her like they did with me.

Though I thought she would be more… er, old. Like Taras, but more extreme, maybe?

“This one greets his future teacher,” I say, bowing my head in respect and deference.

Ayria nods, then starts eating faster. “Elder Vicar said you would train with Taras, to get the basics down on polearms and knives. I want to see what you know now, so that I can get a better idea of how to train you. Finish your food, and meet me at the training grounds when you’re done.”

She gets up, finishing off her chicken. With the dim clacking of her staff, she vanishes out the door.

Well… Lets hope Taras was exaggerating.

After a few minutes, I finish my food and place the plate on a wrack next to the trash.

Stepping outside, I take a breath of the humid night air. Looking at the stars above. A waning crescent hovering in the sky.

In the jungle I only got rare glimpses of the stars, and I hadn’t realized how much I had taken them for granted. At night most moonlight never got through the canopy, leaving the forest floor near pitch dark.

Walking over to the training field, I can see Ayria moving through a complex set of moves. She isn’t using her staff, but her fists. Punching and kicking in places where a person’s vitals would be.

She stops as I near, turning towards me.

“Alright, grab a spear and go through your motions,” She says, point towards the wrack of wooden weapons.

I grab a spear, and look at her unsure. “How will you be able to see them?”

Ayria is holding her staff now, and she taps it on the ground, “Just because I can’t see with my eyes, doesn’t mean I can’t see other ways. Now, do the forms.”

I start going through the forms, following the images engraved in my mind. I keep expecting to be yelled at or hit every time I make a mistake, wincing in anticipation. But Ayria stays quiet, periodically tapping her staff on the ground.

Is that some kind of twitch? Or is she using the staff in some way to see?

When I finish, Ayria hums softly. He walks around me, “Hold your arms out to your sides.”

I do as she asks. She holds her staff up and measures it with my arm. Then she taps it.

A quick burst of energy rushes through me, just for an instant. It was so fast it makes me question whether it actually happened.

Closing my eyes, I can see that the crystals have grown slightly.

Is she using Pure katra to get the idea of objects? Like I did when I searched for artifacts in the ruins? And the Gray katra is absorbing those bursts, essentially making her blind to me.

She pushes my arms down to my sides. Then she looks at about where my head would be, tapping her staff.

“You aren’t fit and I don’t think you will be for a while. I’m sure Taras won’t let you go till you can run a couple miles without breaking a sweat. How long have you been practicing the spear stances?”

“About a day or so. I have used a spear before, but never really practiced with it.”

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“Only a day? Well, I guess Taras isn’t the Armsmaster for nothing,” She turns around and shoves her staff in the sand. “I’m not really a master of polearms, but good enough. Do you know the reason that Vicar wants you to train under me?”

I shake my head.

“I was born a cripple and blind, and unable to do sacred arts. My father refused to treat me like a fragile object, to let people look down on me. So he trained me how to use weapons. Eventually I learned how to see in other ways, getting better at fighting. I slowly developed a fighting style that lets me fight on par with Steels.”

That can’t be possible. Steels are tough.

“I don’t need to see to know what you’re thinking. There are parts in the body that can cause a great amount of pain and if damaged, not even a Diamond can survive. My way of unarmed fighting involves capitalizing on these points to inflict the most pain and damage as possible, making up for my weakness.” She says with pride in her voice, standing up straight.

I can’t argue that a cripple can kill something of the Steel ranks. Like I did with the boar.

I start to get excited by the idea. Maybe there is a way for me to get stronger, though not in the way I thought. If I could fight a Steel, then my options opened up somewhat, and with this Gray katra, I might be able to level the playing field.

“When can I start to learn, teacher?” I ask, ready to start immediately.

Ayria shakes her head, but a grin is on her face, “You are far from being in shape. And you should at least know how to use a weapon first. So, when Taras deems you worthy of passing, we will start. Till then, I will be preparing for when you are ready. I hope to teach you soon, Kardin.”

I bow again.

Ayria gives a dip of her head. She picks up her staff and walks out from the training field.

My head spins with thoughts of being able to face Lowsteels. Maybe I could even get myself up there eventually. Though, first I will have to learn the quirks of my new katra.

I walk back to my room, thinking on everything that has happened to me so far.

Shaking my head of Karla’s screams, I open my door. Sitting on my bed, I think about going to sleep. But I need to cycle some more and also I don’t want another nightmare.

My dreams are still haunted by the Tulnar and the attack. I am not eager to relive those moments.

Taking a deep breath, activating my bone gauntlet, I dive inside myself.

I have been curious about what Sol did to me, what this “ban” is. Is it like a trade ban?

Moving my mind’s eye over to my arm, I try to force my way through the sticky miasma. But as I finally push through it, I hit a solid wall, something that won’t let me pass.

I can still see inside the gauntlet though. But can’t push deeper in, like looking through a window.

Trying to smash my way through, my mind rebounds off the barrier.

So, it’s useless to try and get in. At least I got the Gray katra.

Focusing back on my body, I can see the crystals have nearly covered my entire body, stopping at my cheekbones.

Should I stop cycling? So it doesn’t reach my head?

I remember the bursts of energy I felt when I infused my katra into the crystals.

Curious, I take a ribbon of the Gray from my core and let it out of my channels. It is quickly absorbed, forming the ripples.

A rush of energy comes into my body.

I form my right hand into a fist, feeling the satisfying movements of the muscles stretch.

Am I stronger now?

I look around for something to hit and decide on the bedpost. Throwing a punch, expecting it to do nothing, I hit the round ball that is the top of one of the bed posts.

Pain crawls up my arm, but I watch in surprise as the wood splinters with a crack. The wooden ball launches into the stone wall with a crack, ricocheting off it and to the floor.

Grabbing my hand, I let out a grunt of pain. I check to see if anything is broken, but don't see it. The cloth on my arm shifts of its own accord, almost like it is uncomfortable.

Maybe next time I should do it with the gauntlet activated.

Stretching my hand, I look at the bedpost. The entire top is gone, leaving jagged wood behind. The wooden ball is cracked and splintered.

This is insane! It’s like I have Steel strength…

But that doesn’t make sense. I’m still Lowbronze. I shouldn’t be anywhere close to a steel’s strength. However, it sure looked like something a steel could do. Though, it still hurt me, and a steel probably wouldn’t have en been phased by it.

I remember Karla’s father showing off his strength by punching through a solid 6 inches of wood. He hadn’t even winced.

So I have the strength, but not the toughness? I suppose it’s better than nothing, but why am I stronger?

I look back at my body.

It must be the crystals, are they enhancing my strength, or is it the Gray katra?

Then I notice that the crystals have reached my eyes. I start to panic, watching as they cover my eyes, then my forehead, slowly stopping.

I don't think I can stop their growth. If I leak even a little bit of katra, they will completely cover me.

I open my eyes, thinking that I might be blind now, but I find I can see fine. Though, the Gray katra crystals are more spiritual than physical. Not really there, more like a form of energy.

Taking out my knife, I hold the blade up to reflect my eyes.

By the gods, what is that?

My irises are gray, completely consuming the green of my eyes. I watch as the color slowly seeps away, returning my eyes to their normal color.

I suppose the words ‘the eyes are the windows to the soul’ are true here.

Now I had to make a decision. To not cycle or use any katra in any way, until I figured out what these crystals are, or to just feed them the last bit of katra. I don’t think I will be able to avoid using any katra and that these Gray crystalline structures are going to grow.

No time like now, at least if I go insane, I will be in a controlled environment.

Taking another ribbon of Gray katra, I shove it into my body.

The ripples start to form, crystals cropping up fast. I watch as they slowly encase my head, covering my entire body. The crystals grow a dim, gray light.

A surge of energy rushes through me and I can’t help but take in a deep breath, gasping for air. I feel dizzy and clear headed at the same time, readying to take off into the sky and to fall flat on my face.

With my mind’s eye, I watch as the crystals start to fade back to their gray color, the dim light gone. After about a minute, they are all out of energy and the invigorating power I felt dwindles and vanishes.

I wait for a while, expecting for something to happen, to feel something, but I feel the same. Shifting my mind, I look at my core.

I go stiff at the sight of what awaits me.

My core is no longer fuzzy around the edges, they are sharply defined. The surface of my core is covered in a thick crust of Gray katra. The katra has deep ravines and gorges maring it’s surface, random, jagged junks protruding out of it.

What… happened?

I look into my core.

Inside is the Gray katra, but now it is shaped. It is a frozen cyclone of Gray ribbons, shifting but not moving from their spot..

Reaching out a mental hand, I pluck a ribbon out of the structure, bringing it out of my core.

I can still control it.

Placing the katra back into my core, I sit back to think about this.

Curious, I start to use my cycling technique, visualizing the wheel in my core, grinding at the sides.

It doesn’t stick. I can’t focus it, all I get is the image of the cyclone.

Why can’t I visualize it?

I keep trying to force the image of the wheel into my core, of it spinning, but I can’t.

Giving up I look at the still ribbons. I contemplate what to do next.

I’m still me, I seem to be fine. So do I just leave it? I can’t cycle anymore though, which means I can’t gather katra…

I start to feel panic welling up inside me. If I can’t make katra, I can’t get stronger, can’t heal myself, I can’t use my right hand!

Taking a deep breath, I slowly calm myself. Panicking won’t help me. If I can’t use my current cycling technique, then I can use another one.

I look at the structure in my core. It is still, in the shape of a tornado… Does that mean I can move it?

I picture the cyclone moving, spinning slowly.

Looking back into my core, I keep the mental image the the ribbons spinning. I interpose it over the cyclone, pushing the image into my core.

The ribbons shift, then start to sluggishly move, slowly circling themselves in my core.

I push harder, visualizing the ribbons moving faster.

They slowly start to pick up speed, moving faster and faster. They start to generate wind, whipping the air and the sides of my core. I feel the familiar suffocating feeling from my wheel cycling technique, but it is not as strong as before.

Then the wind pushes from my core, into my channels, spinning through it. It first is a breeze, then a strong wind and finally a gale.

I then feel something slowly moving through my channels, coming in from outside.

Vital aura.

I am sucking it from the air, bringing it into my core without having to focus on it. I normally would have to focus incredibly hard to gather any from around me, so I usually use beast cores instead.

I accidentally loosen my hold on my mental image, and the tornado in my core slows, then stops.

Dazed, I follow the path of the vital aura. Most of it dissipates into my body, absorbed by the crystals. Some of it flows into my core, where the Gray katra consumes it. I watch as more ribbons form, freezing in place.

The gray crystals start to send out ripples of energy from the vital aura although this time there is no invigorating rush; the energy colesces in certain crystals.

Moving my mind’s eye to one of these crystals, I look at the dim Gray katra glowing inside it.

Instinctively reaching a mental hand out, I try to pluck the energy from the crystal. I can’t, the Gray katra inside it is tightly packed and resisting my pulls.

After a bit, I give up and open my eyes.

I don’t know whether to be excited by the prospects of this, or to be scared of what this might mean.

My eyes start to droop, but I resit the urge to sleep.

I grab a beast core and pull energy from it, starting up my new cycling technique.

***

I bring my spear down, executing a near perfect over head strike. Shifting my weight, I spin, slashing. Then I bring my staff around, hitting the training dummy in the head.

Stopping, I heave an exhausted sigh. Leaning on my spear, I close my eyes and focus on my core.

It has been a month since I arrived here. I have rapidly made progress in my understanding of how to use a spear and dagger.

Over this time I have been slowly using my new cycling technique. It does not make much Gray katra, much like my old one. But this one is still superior, it lets me take in vital aura and it seems to be expanding my core.

Though I don’t know how to explain it well, my core feels deeper and denser. I still haven’t made enough katra to fill it, but I don’t use much of it either.

I have started to understand these spiritual crystals that cover my body. I can use a little Gray katra to produce a very brief empowerment. It gives me something akin to a Steel body, but still different.

My skin is still as fleshy and weak as before, I learned this by cutting myself with it activated. I tried out my new strength on a 6 inch wood sheet, while I did crack the sheet, I also sprained my wrist. It would have been broken if I had completely broken the wood.

I had something close to Steel strength, but it wasn’t exactly on the same level.

With the short empowerment of my muscles, I was quicker. I could run far faster than before, the trade off is that I don’t have the dexterity or agility to control my speed well.

Everything about this seems to be a trade off. Like I’m getting half the package. I have the strength and speed, but none of the toughness or control needed to use it well.

Though, I suppose I don’t have any right to complain, it's amazing that I have Steel strength at all. I’m a cripple, from a small village.

“Kardin! I see Armsmaster Taras has been working you well,” A voice calls from behind me.

Turning around, I see Vicar walking towards me. He is in his armor this time, the metal glinting in the sun.

Reaching me, he pats me on the shoulder. I nearly crumple from the strength, but manage to lock me knees in time.

“I’d like to talk to you, it’s important.” He says grimly, but then flashes a smile.

Vicar looks over my shoulder and waves at Taras, who is currently monitoring the children as they practice archery. Taras nods and turns back to his “education”.

“What is it, Elder Vicar?” I ask as he leads me off the training field. I leave my wooden spear on the rack as we head off the estate.

“I’m taking you to get some food, and we will talk then.” Vicar leads me down a couple streets and into a tavern. The sign out front proclaims it as The Ivory Flask. A picture of a hollowed out horn overflowing with beer adorns the sign.

Taking a booth, he sits across from me. His armor clacks as he takes off his gaultnets and sets his helmet to the side.

A waiter walks up to our table, he bows to Vicar and says;

“What can I get for you, respected Elder? The special for today is beef stew with vegetables. We also have southern style bread.” The waiter places the sheets of paper he carried over in front of us.

Vicar looks over the paper and says, “I’ll have the special and a bottle of watered down sake. Also with some of the bread.”

“I’ll just have the special as well, thank you.” I say, handing the waiter back the menu.

The waiter bows and walks off.

“Elder Vicar, what is it you need to talk to me about?” I ask, looking at him inquisitively.

The waiter walks back and sets the drink and soup on the table before he can say anything else. Bowing, the waiter leaves.

“You remember your meeting with the House Head of Ventos?” Vicar takes a sip of soup.

I nod, looking at the brown soup with chunks of beef in it. I take a sip and am pleasantly surprised by the burst of flavor.

Must be the herbs. I think as I look at Vicar.

“Well, from what you told me about the exchange, the Head was right.” Vicar chews on a bit of beef, “We just recently got word that war has broken out between the Traezar Empire and the clans of the Tulnar.”

I gulp down a bit of soup in surprise, “War with the Tulnar?”

Vicar nods, he takes a sip of sake. “The Empire has declared war on the Ra’tok clan. From what I understand, they formed a large army and completely destroyed the outposts near the Jungle of The Gods.”

I feel anger boil up inside me at the memory of the Tulnar holding Karla’s bracelet. “Thank you for telling me this, Elder.” I bow my head slightly.

Vicar shakes his head, “I’m not done. The situation is far more complicated than just a war.”

I blink, then realise that my right hand is clenched in a fist. I relax myself, stopping the slow crush of my spoon. “What do you mean?”

He takes a sip of soup, chewing on a carrot from it. “What I mean is that the Empire can’t afford this war.”

Vicar pulls out a small scroll. He places it on the table between us, spreading it to reveal a map of the Traezar Empire and its surrounding territories. “The Empire is up against the mountains here, which is close to the territory of the Tulnar.” He taps the mountains. Then he moves his finger to a country on the edge of the Traezar’s border. “The Empire is on bad footing in politics currently. Just about every country near it’s borders is looking to take a slice of the Empire. They want a war but so far have been unable to incite one. Traezar has been running out of money and resources for a while now, dealing with internal strife in the Main Houses. It is in no position to go to war, and even if it did send troops to fight, then the other countries would pounce.”

I sit back on this info dump. Taking a bite of my soup, I wash it down with some sake. “What are you trying to say, Elder Vicar?”

He moves his finger and taps a spot on the map, it is labeled; The Valley of Ivory. “What I’m saying is that the Empire is close to collapsing and they cannot afford to send troops to help combat the Tulnar’s advance. Tarna is in their path.”

Taking a bite of the beef I ask, “Why are you telling me this?”

Vicar looks me in the eye, “I believe you know that you’re not well liked within the clan,” I nod, “Some on the council want to see you gone, and many more people don’t want you here. It is most likely that you will be sent out to combat the Tulnar before your training is done. I will try all in my power to make sure that you get full training before being sent out. I want to warn you about this now, so that you can be prepared.”

I can already feel the dread eating away at my insides. “Why do they want me gone?”

Vicar runs a bit of bread around the rim of his bowl, catching the last of his stew and eating the soggy bread. “Think of it like this, you are a cripple. Many see you as a stain on the honor of our clan. That is not all, you were accepted in mainly for your strange artifact and experiences. Some want that artifact,” He gestures to my right arm. “Others see you as a threat. Training a cripple, even when it is not in the Sacred Arts, goes against many teachings. They want to keep the Talri Clan strong and respected and your being here undermines this.”

I gulp down the last of my stew, copying what Vicar did with his bread. I think as I chew. “Why did you bring me here if you knew all this would happen?”

Vicar grimaces, but looks at me with sadness. “The look in your eyes when you hear the word Tulnar. It is all too familiar to me. I have seen many men wear it, and many of them fought without training, without preparation. I once wore that look, I sought vengeance with an unmatched fury. When I got it, I found no relief, losing more than I gained. I also know that there is nothing I can say that will change your mind, so I thought it best to prepare you.”

I sit back speechless. He is right. I will kill the Tulnar that devoured Karla. I will rend his scaly flesh from his bones, and I will eat him in return.

Vicar takes a sip of sake. “It will probably be months before the Tulnar set their sights on us, but I have no doubt that they will come. I am having Taras step up your training. You have one month to master the basics of both spearmanship and knife work.”

I nod dumbly.

“I will check in with you next week, to see how your training is going. I hope that you will be ready Kardin, because a terrible storm is coming. And I don’t know if the Empire will survive it.” Vicar gets up from the table and pats me on the shoulder. He smiles reassuringly, “One of the perks of being an Elder is that the food is free.”

Vicar puts on his gloves and walks out the door, leaving me to mull over what he has told me.

I am going to have to tackle my training with renewed vigor. I need to be ready for what’s coming. Maybe I can escape before it gets bad.

I get up from the booth, the waiter walks over and bows to me. He takes the dishes away as I leave.

I am already dreading my training with Taras. I can already hear his yelling.

Best to prepare for the worst, right?

***

I am in a forest.

Everything glows with energy, in a every color imaginable and some that I can’t even describe.

I hunger. I want this energy, but not the stuff that flows in the ground, or through trees and plants.

I want the warmth. I can see it in the animals that hide in the trees, pulsing in time with their heart beat. It is in every creature, in the insects I snack on and in the squirrels nesting.

I hook my two, clawed fingers into the bark of a tree. Slowly, I pull myself up into its branches.

Scampering through the tops of the trees, I can see a moving source of energy. It is large, moving along the forest floor.

Curious, I follow above it, looking down on it.

It is a person. He holds a bow in his hand and has an arrow notched. He wears a muddy, green cloak and brown clothes. Hiding in a bush, he looks at a small herd of Agile Terrors.

He pulses with a neon blue, almost like electricity. It moves through his veins and Katra channels, branching out in his body.

He looks delicious.

I curl my feathery tail on the branch I balance on. I hang myself from the branch with my powerful tail.

I send a pulse of my Power to my tail, giving it a more stretchy property. Slowly, I lower myself down towards him.

My feathers shift colors, blending in with my surroundings.

The man draws back his bow, preparing to fire his arrow.

About a foot above his head, I stop moving. I watch, waiting to pounce. Hypnotized by the pulsing of the blue in him, as it moves through his channels and into his arms.

The energy reaches his hands and flows into his bow, then the arrow. It concentrates around the tip, and a blue spark flies off.

Then the man releases his arrow.

That's when I strike.

My claws dig into his eyes, my tail curling around his neck. I bring my other four legs onto his shoulders, gripping tightly.

Clawing, I maul his face as I choke him.

He screams silently, clawing at me.

His fingers leave deep, painful gorges in my sides, but I don't let go. My gray energy flows out of my wounds, quickly clotting and repairing my flesh as fast as he can damage it.

I drive my claws deeper into his head, reaching his brain.

Then he stops, twitching on the ground. I hold him in place for a bit more, till I am sure he is dead.

Pulling my claws from his head, I pry open his mouth.

Snaking my tail down his throat, I reach into his center for the source of the blue energy.

My tail liquifies, moving into his channels. I push it through them, absorbing the energy in them.

As my tails crawls towards his center, I start to envelope his body, slowly dissolving it.

Then I am at his core. I rip it from his chest and consume it, as I slowly break down his body.

I shudder in the pleasure at the rush energy I get from him. I can feel myself becoming more dense, stronger.

The crack of a branch makes me snap my head around.

Another person stands there, frozen. They pulse with the same energy, but it is weaker.

I prepare to pounce, shifting my form.

The person screams and turns to run.

Then I leap.

I wake up with a start, jumping out of my bed and clawing at the air.

Standing on my bed in confusion, I slowly blink the drowsiness from my eyes.

What… what just happened?

I look around my room. Getting off my bed, I look at my reflection in the dark window.

I look at myself, my dark hair and green eyes sleepy. The scar running along my chin still there. I feel my chest, the many scars on it and the giant one on my shoulder.

I’m still me. What was that dream?

It had felt real. I had felt like I was there, I could feel the rush of power from the energy.

I shake my head, clearing it of the thoughts.

Just some weird dream.

Sitting back on my bed, I decide to do some cycling since I am already awake.

Activating the cyclone in my core, I start to absorb the Vital aura around me.

I must get stronger. And fast.