Garin turned to him, but said nothing as he waited to hear more. Still though, there was nothing, and that alarmed him quite a bit. He was numb, empty.

The healer's expression fell, like whatever he'd told Garin was supposed to receive more of a reaction. Garin would have snorted if he had the energy.

"What is wrong, boy?"

“...the friar…” Garin spoke after a lot of hesitation. “He said both Daye and Fedrahn were captured. How do I know what you speak is truth?"

Still though, Garin hadn't thought of Daye all this time. He'd been too preoccupied with Fedrahn. Like the man had set a hook in his brain, and only he mattered. Garin searched deep within himself, and it was alarming. There was no remorse, no guilt. Just a little smattering of shame for having forgotten the first man who'd cared for him.

Maybe Daye had cared for him, but he'd also broken his heart when he told him he couldn't pursue his dream of dancing. Even then, Garin had claimed he didn't blame the man. Now that he'd tried to tell him he'd always meant to teach him anyway…?

The healer was looking away from Garin, chewing on his bottom lip.

"I am sorry about your friend the scribe. We did tell him the plan, but he was impatient. Got himself caught. And then..."

"Then what?" Garin asked when it looked like the man wouldn't continue.

"He's as good as dead now. No need to dwell on that terrible business. We need to tell you the plan. You fight Odo in a weeks time. I tried to push the time line as much as possible. The bout is only five days before the ships arrive, and happens to be a maintenance day. All the boats will be in the shed, so we can destroy them and prevent pursuit. You'll be able to…”

Garin stopped listening. It all seemed like too much work, and the plan was so convoluted. He just wanted to go to Fedrahn, and fighting Odo seemed like a good idea. Don't all the dead go to the same sphere? He might have said it out loud because Mordin reeled back.

"But... We made all these arrangements. I know I made it sound simple, but there is going to be a whole battle. The arch master himself might not make it out alive. The only way those few of us who will will depend solely on our luck to strike fast and stay hidden. Don't you want to get out of here, to live? For us? For the arch master?"

"Why should I live for you guys? We have no debts among ourselves. Besides...I can't live like this. I refuse to stay in a sphere without him. He is out there somewhere, and I will find him."

"Who are you talking abo-" Mordin stopped himself with a harsh breath. "If you'll excuse me," he said with less passion than he'd said anything the whole visit.

Then he stepped forward and went through the motions of checking Garin's health and everything.

That night as he lay on his cot, trying and failing miserably to get some sleep, he had a rustling sound that many probably wouldn't have. Somewhere a bit distant from his room, a window opened, and an adult man snuck in.

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Garin didn't move a muscle, even when it became apparent the intruder was headed straight for his room. A shadow loomed over him, and he didn't bother pretending to shut his eyes or anything. The two stared each other in the eye.

"So it's true what he said. They did break you," Daye said. "I wonder how they did it."

Garin shrugged from where he lay belly up, "they killed him. They killed Fedrahn."

Daye didn't react except for a deep scowl. He'd perhaps already been told of Garin's earlier words with the healer. He seemed to be thinking of what to say, or whether he should say it.

"They didn't kill him, Garin, but they might as well have."

Garin's head had snapped up at the start of the conversation, and now as his heart rate picked up, he waited for the blow to land.

"They sent him to the inescapable prison. They sent him to the Sidonai."

Garin let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"How can I get there?"

Daye hesitated, frowning in thought it. Then he sighed in resignation.

"We'll send you there," he said, but Garin could see how hard it had been for him to say it.

He wasn't lying, as far as Garin could tell. He was just really hesitant to send the boy there. And yet...Garin still didn't care that this man was probably going to sacrifice himself to ensure he'd get off the island.

The next time the healer came, Garin showed him the black powder Fedrahn had once shown him. He told him how it was enough to blow up the whole boat shed with just a lick of fire.

And then seven days later, Garin's execution bout arrived.

Just before he was to die though, the crowd had to be put in the mood for it. They were already passionate and growing frenzied by the minute. Garin was put on a seat just next to the stage where he sat in isolation to watch the few bouts preceding his.

He wondered what they were about, and just then someone sat next to him.

"They are ascension bouts. Due to the...uh, loss of arch master Daye, one of the best masters will be promoted to arch master."

Garin raised a brow to Nordard, the boy he'd fought in his last battle. The friar had tried to trap him in a pseudo sphere, and Garin had almost destroyed it and the whole island.

"Are you allowed to speak with me?" Garin asked.

And before Nordard could reply the crowd cried out in glee as one of the two masters performed a series of acrobatic kicks. There was no light technique in the move, but mere martial mastery.

"No one's allowed to speak with you," Nordard inhaled a breath as an invisible fist struck a nose to a resounding snap. "Who doubted master Touland, am I right?"

Garin just stared at him, and Nordard's grin faded a little.

"Listen, little man, you used two dancing schools at the same time, and you used forgotten techniques. It's like...you're some kind of living legend. Or a story waiting to be told. They want to kill you right here and now, but destiny is not so easily foiled. I know we'll meet again in the future."

Garin was uncomfortable. If Fedrahn had taught him anything, it was to keep his cards close to hand.

"I thought to become an arch master, a certain kind of insight into the spheres is needed? You can't just promote a master to arch master, that's not how it works."

Nordard shrugged, though a small smile showed he'd caught Garin's discomfort. "The insight can be taught. It's just that those who gain insight on their own are much stronger than those who have to be given it."

As he spoke, the acrobatic master took a running start, and launched a drop kick, though one of his legs was invisible. The other stopped it anyway, but without bothering to land, or so it looked, several legs flew from the same hip.

It was only after he'd gotten through his opponent's guard and dropped him to the floor that Garin and the others realised he'd been standing on his right foot, and using only his left leg with hundreds of other illusory legs to cover the fact that only one leg was up. He was close to arch mastery, if Garin had to guess.

Just then, as the crowd started to cool down from a very physical martial arts bout, Garin was called into the duelling circle. To say he was surprised would have been an understatement.

Sure, he'd walked here knowing the plan could go wrong in any number of ways, but seeing as it was almost two hours before the projected time they were supposed to act...

"I like the look on your face, boy," the friar's voice flew to him again, and the smirk in it was evident. "I don't know if I have any reason to be cautious, but Daye is still out there somewhere. Best to kill you while he's still out there flailing around."

Garin wondered if the friar was constructing a pseudo sphere again. Surely he'd learned the danger of such a gambit, had he not?

Odo stood across from him, a glare masking his underlying ugliness. Garin just shrugged at him and popped his neck. He also vaguely realised how quiet the stands had become since he'd taken to the stage. When he turned to stare at the healer one more time, a small nod was all the warning he got.

And then the island shook, and fire took the sky, and it rained debris for miles.