Jacob looked on with pride as his son ran and failed the course over and over again. Caked in mud and moving with the lethargic energy of the exhausted Adrian got up and run it again and Jacob gave a little internal cheer. He could teach his son so many things that would keep him alive in almost any situation he found himself in, but that drive, that refusal to give in, to spit in the eye of insurmountable odds and go on when all seemed lost. That couldn't be taught. His son wasn't there yet but he could see signs of it. As a father that was all he could ask for.

With a weight lifted off his shoulders, Jacob turned to the other problems currently weighing him down. Their food situation was looking bad. Jacob knew the more Adrian grew into his abilities the more energy he'd need to power them and that meant food, lots of it. Their chickens were producing eggs, the enlarged farm was up and running and the traps were catching the occasional wild rabbit to supplement their diet but it wasn't enough.

Jacob considered starving himself to provide his son more food but knew that would end badly. Should a hostile force stumble onto their farm while he was weakened and that would spell disaster for the both of them. There had to be a better way. Jacob knew of one yet he shied away from it, it was fraught with peril. Plans were made and discarded and after furious thinking, he circled back to the only way out. He'd have to barter.

The problem was what to trade. Jacob looked around his shed and found nothing anyone would want. His mind went to Adrian's flashlight but he immediately dismissed the idea, the boy didn't have much and taking what little he had way from him seemed cruel. The thought of trading something personal caused Jacobs eyes to fall on case thrown haphazardly on a pile wood. He'd unearthed it when looking for materials to build Adrian's course and hadn't given it a second thought. Now it arrested his thought and refused to let go.

Almost in a trance Jacob walked towards the case and picked it up, blowing away the dust to reveal a scratched out emblem. The case looked nondescript and unremarkable yet it weighed a ton on Jacobs conscience. He placed it on his desk and with trepidation flipped the lid open revealing a midnight black cloak. Swallowing, he pulled that out to reveal two daggers nestled at the bottom of the case, and emblazoned on their sheaths were the dreaded emblem Jacob did his best not to think about.

Annoyed at his weakness, Jacob pulled out the daggers unsheathed them and threw their sheaths back into the case which he snapped closed. With the two naked blades in his hands, Jacob felt memories crowding his mind. He savagely repressed them and focused on the weapons before him.

Xanite.

The strongmans bane. Discovered at the height of the world war, it could cut damn near everything including the highly durable skins of strongmen. Once strongmen were considered impervious to all but concerted effort to end them, now anyone could kill them with a well placed thrust from a Xanite blade. Forged Xanite blades were grey and dull in colour belying their sinister power. Rumours abound of Xanite turning black when steeped in blood.

The daggers in Jacobs hands were a midnight black. They were not rumours.

With his decision made, Jacob wrapped the daggers in cloth and waited for night to fall. That night he and his son had a subdued dinner, Adrian bone tired and Jacob worried about his plans for the evening. Jacob bid his son goodnight and waited till he could hear his son's soft measured breathing. His son was asleep and it was time. Jacob threw on his cloak and grabbed his wrapped bundle, he turned once to look at the peaceful home he'd built and his son sleeping within and then bolted into the darkness.

Approaching the walls of their little valley, Jacob launched himself skyward, easily clearing the twenty metre barrier. He dropped onto the other side and redirected the force of his landing to launching himself into the dark night with mile eating strides. Cloaked in black underneath a moonless night and running so fast his surroundings blurred, Jacob was a ghost. After miles of running and feeling barely winded, Jacob stopped at a pile of nondescript rocks and read the traders location in their placement. He run on.

Arriving at his location, the ruins of a ravaged town that had collapsed into itself. Jacob navigated his way through the rubble till he found a pit in the earth he promptly dropped into. As he fell down the shaft, he flared his cloak out and it caught the wind causing him to come to a gentle stop at the bottom of a dimly lit cave. Jacob looked around and spotted a lit shack before him, the only structure in the dreary place.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

With no hesitation or signs of timidity he marched towards it, knocked once and entered. The interior of the place was as dreary as the exterior with a solitary lamp hanging above the trader standing behind the counter. With no words or greetings exchanged, Jacob approached the counter and placed one naked dagger on the counter.

“Barter. Grain as much as you have on hand, and any seeds you have, prioritising beans and fertilised eggs.”

Xanite as dangerous as it was was suitably rare courtesy of the Apex. After centuries of destroying the places it was produced and jealously hoarding it. It was very sought after and would fetch a premium at any of the major cities. Cities Jacob couldn't approach without leaving his son alone for far too long. And both the trader and Jacob knew it. The trader picked up the dagger and carefully examined it appearing nonplussed at the black of the blade.

“Quarter sack grain, a pound of flour and a thimble of salt. Good no?” As he spoke the trader pulled out the items and placed it on the counter and then seemed to forget about Jacob, focusing entirely on the dagger.

Without a word Jacob out his hand for the dagger. “No deal.”

The trader offhandedly swapped out the thimble of salt for a shaker and seemed to think the matter was closed. He looked down incredulous when Jacob still held his hand out and the items untouched. Sighing dramatically he placed the dagger back into the outstretched palm and smiled genially. With a grimace at what he knew was coming, Jacob walked out the shack and was met with four people waiting outside.

‘It never ends.' he thought grimly.

Evenly spaced out the four men smiled lazily and the central man a thin scarred man who seemed like the leader from his lazy drawl pointed down. “Strip and..."

The man's speech was cut short courtesy of Jacob seeming to disappear and appear before him and jamming his fist into and through the man's throat in a shower of blood. All hell broke loose.

With a roar one of the men, a hulking brute of a man charged Jacob and was stopped when his leaders corpse was flung bodily into him tangling him up. In one smooth motion, Jacob fell onto his back dodging a raging fireball that roared over him, he shot back to his feet and charged at the offender staying low whiles zig zagging to avoid more fireballs launched his way. Up close the man conjured an extra large fireball that obscured him from Jacobs view. Already low, Jacob dug his palms into the rocky ground of the cave and flung a clod of dirt and sand at the approaching fireball dousing it.

With a leap, Jacob made it through the smoke and burning bits of sand and drove his fist into the mid section of the fire user and interrupting his forming fireball. With senses honed in countless battles, Jacob grabbed the groaning fire user and turned with him presenting his head to the flying fist of the hulking brute. With a sickening crunch the mans head exploded outwards showering them with bits of blood, bone and brain.

A powerful jump saw Jacob dodging a beam of red hot flames that incinerated the corpse of the fire user and narrowly missed the hulking brute who growled; “ Watch where you're aiming that, fool!”

At the apex of his jump Jacob grabbed the ceiling of the cave and launched himself feet first at the second fire user who was charging another fire ray. The man seeing Jacob coming gave up on his attack and blasted a gout of fire from his feet that launched him away from Jacobs impact and the dust cloud it created. Midair he begun charging another attack. Hidden within the rapidly settling dust cloud Jacob unwrapped the cause of the current conflict and waited.

The hulking brute ran into the dust cloud and was met with a cut at his heel that dropped him, two precise stabs into his shoulders that disabled his arms and a wide bloody grin across his throat that bled him. It was over in seconds. Jacob sawed away at the dying mans neck then dived out of the way of another fire ray, right into floating embers of fire that set his cloak ablaze.

With a wicked grin the floating fire user gestured and the fire intensified becoming red and edging towards blue. With the burning smell of his flesh underneath his nose, Jacob run towards the kneeling corpse of the hulking brute and with a savage reverse heel kick launched the man's head towards the floating fire user. Strongmen were naturally resilient both in life and in death. The head clipped the fire user and the momentary loss of concentration allowed Jacob to jump close and pulp his head with a devastating punch. Jacob dropped alongside the headless corpse and run towards the shack to find the trader launching himself up and trying to fly out of the cave.

A pilot.

A violently thrown dagger caught him and nailed him to the roof of the cave. Jacob put out the normally burning fire on his shoulder and searched the corpses. He found a bunch of credits from various cities and raided the shack finding food and seeds and glorious containers of salt and sugar. He bundled them all up and headed home with the burning bodies of his attackers and the shack filling the cave with smoke.