The light of the candle illuminated the page, a shaky hand drifting across quill in hand, struggling to scratch out the word depicted on the page. A few minutes passed and the boy, Niko set down the feather, the words on the brownish scrap of paper indiscernible from the inane scribbles of a child. In frustration he pushed aside the page, smashing the bottle of ink onto the wagon bed. Regret and embarrassment replaced the anger in that instant, holding his head in his hands he turned his head to Mera who simply removed another ink bottle from her bag.

“You’re not incompetent Niko, before you say anything I can tell… Because I was the same that first day we met, when you woke from that catatonic state, and I lashed out at you. It was wrong of me and like yourself was born of frustration with my own weakness. That’s why we can’t stop… you must keep studying, prove that you aren’t just a show lion.” With that Mera set the ink bottle in front of her student, removing a new scrap of paper, and once again repeating the words in the book, asking Niko to repeat after her.

Niko kept staring at the girl next to him, sneaking peaks every so often, trying to understand which was the real Mera. Was it the vicious scholar, the playful prankster, the frustrated and angry young woman, or the broken young girl? She was so many things, same as him, but there was so much he had yet to learn, to know, secrets that she kept close to her heart. Her actions mimicking those of people who had something to hide, but also who were afraid and kept others at a distance.

Niko’s quill stopped moving midstride and he turned his attention towards the girl, “Mera, is what we’re doing right? Even if they are enemies, to use them like we have been. It’s different killing someone who can fight back, what the Scholar is having me do, this magic… It is as if I am playing with their lives, I don’t like it. I feel no different from those who watched from those seats in the arena… I fear if I allow this to continue, I will become the same as those monsters. Is this really just?”

Mera’s fingers stopped as she was turning to the next page, her eyes focusing on the flickering flames, then on the clear eyes of the boy next to her. Her teeth clenched lightly before relaxing, her eyes becoming slightly downcast as if she had been remembering a deeply distressing memory. “I used to think that way too, long ago… I questioned the Scholar’s logic, and like a foolish brazen child I did what he said not to. I followed his hunting party into the woods, set on proving my skills, showcasing everything I learned and how useful I was…”

“Those are different things; you were a young child. Playing in the forest is something all children supposedly do, my teacher once said that young trainees in the temples would go and train their bodies in nature. How does that have any relation to the act of experimenting on people? Causing their deaths in such horrific fashion? It’s no different than putting on a show and I am complicit in that process!” The actions Niko had been made to participate in were beginning to take their toll, it was showing in his baggy eyes and building frustrations.

“I was getting to that, so listen to the end. Like all his decisions, it always comes down to a single factor, to protect all of us. That day I ignored his rules, I learned the truth as to why… and that experience cost the life of someone close to me. After that day I threw myself into my studies, for it was those studies that saved my life… that and my father’s. I will never forgive myself for my actions, my family suffered because of it… that is why I seek to prove myself, holding myself to that standard. Even to the point that the frustration threatens to break me, my actions reflect those weaknesses.” As Mera spoke, she took hold of the pendant hanging upon her neck. White knuckled fingers clenching tightly the bronze clasp which held the intricate wooden carving.

“The Lord has seen something dangerous, or knows something that none of us are aware of… If he believes that this process will make us stronger and protect our people, then he will not hesitate to sacrifice however many enemies are needed. Had you tested this out on our own people, they would have paid the price. But with each prisoner we have gotten to the point where more and more manage to survive, bestowed with power that we all one day will use… That sacrifice is necessary for our future, that is what I believe, if that’s what the Scholar says…I trust his decisions, they have never led us astray…” It was clear from Niko’s reaction that he was not fully convinced by Mera’s words, however it was also clear that he had not reached a point where he would go against orders.

The two had come to an impasse, Mera had no intention of pushing Niko on this subject anymore, and he had no plan to delve deeper into Mera’s past. What he learned from the simple exchange spoke of underlying trauma, like his own, but hers was one where she blamed herself and the means of overcoming that would only be accomplished on her own. Both came to a similar conclusion, putting off this topic which would only lead to conflict and focus on the studies that needed to be done.

__________________________

In the afternoon of the following day the caravan had again come to a stop, except that for the last few days there were no roads to be seen. Forests stretched in every direction and some of the wagons were struggling against the uneven path. Every so often a distant howl or nearby chirp alerted the guards who didn’t seemed to be alarmed one way or another, even when confronted with the twitching body lying a few feet away.

“Looks like another failure, how many is that now?” The guard asked his compatriot as they removed the still warm corpse, tossing it into the surrounding forest, a treat for whatever forest creature comes around first. “I’m not really sure, between the bandits and the soldiers, we had maybe twenty, probably less. I’d say more than half died, and last I checked there weren’t more than a handful remaining.” Responding to his associate the other guard took another look at the prisoner wagon. Not many of the prisoners remained, and those that did were shaking in terror.

“Well, I think there was some improvement, out of the last five, four survived. This poor bastard was the only one unlucky enough to fail. Besides, it wasn’t as bad as the first test… that guy had it bad. I was washing his guts off my armor for hours after. Had to really scrub in between the joint to get the smell out… you know?” The other nodded, many of the guards that day had been present. They had also been close enough that when the bandit exploded from the expanding light, they got caught in the rain of blood and entrails. Most had trouble eating for a couple of days after that incident.

Now they were a day away from the rendezvous point at Shadowmoon Cove, with the Scholar having arranged transportation back home. Usually, they would have simply chartered a merchant vessel or group of vessels from ports in Merlabria and sailed south to Hegesistra before using Golden Stalk Road to get home. That should have been the case, but the assault on the western district, the constant assassination attempts, and the kidnapping of Leucena had soured relations with those in the central provinces. Luckily plans had been made beforehand for just such an occasion, allowing them to deal with certain threats and weeding out interlopers who might try to follow their trail.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Enough chatting you two! Get back to watch, I’ll deal with the next prisoner myself. Hurry along.” The Scholar appeared as the two were engaged with their discussion. A quick glance in their vicinity and they noticed many eyes on them, especially those of their commander, and Maatilani had not been in a particularly good mood lately. “Right away my lord, please forgive our incompetence!” The two spoke loud enough for all to hear, like children having been caught painting on the walls.

“It’s fine, just go.” Having been given the go ahead, the two guards departed, a red tinge rising to their cheeks. Once the men were gone the other members realized there wouldn’t be a show and got back to work, while Maatilani walked up to Caedyrn and followed him to the prison wagon. A few men inside were staring dagger at the two, but most were terrified or rocking themselves in a semi-catatonic state. However, Caedyrn was here for a specific individual, and his eyes fell upon the man, his former muscular frame slightly diminished from the time spent without adequate food and water.

“I told you we would see each other again Iphiclus, my friend. Although I must say, I’m surprised that the fierce light in your eyes has yet to diminish. Honestly, I did not want to keep you cooped up in here all this time, but as you may have noticed, my enemies have been particularly busy of late. Although, I have found the perfect use for you, your friends, and all these degenerates. Aren’t you glad to finally be put to actual use?” Caedyrn put his hand up just in time to block the phlegm from hitting his face. Maatilani who stood behind Caedyrn thrust her spear forward but was stopped inches from the prisoner’s throat, Caedyrn’s hand firmly grasping the shaft and impeding it from its goal.

“Enough Maati, let me deal with this! It’s fine.” Caedyrn removed a square of linen and wiped away the glob of mucus and saliva. “Iphiclus… Iphiclus, I thought you were smarter than that. Why waste what little water you still have in your body for such pointless defiance. Remember, I didn’t attack you… I didn’t try to murder your family… I didn’t attempt to steal from you… Those are all of your master’s crimes!” Remorse and embarrassment could be seen in the man’s eyes, with Iphiclus hanging his head in shame, knowing that what his captor said was the truth.

“What point is there in all this, why not simply kill me? You could ransom my men, they are young, they didn’t choose to attack you, those were their orders. Their families would pay to see them returned, what good does killing them do?” Iphiclus was speaking from experience, a common practice was the ransom of prisoners of war. However, the man was forgetting that they had not been at war, and that their assault on the convoy could be perceived the same as a bandit attack. Bandits of course were not given the same luxuries, in fact most treated bandits the same as they treated wolves, kill on sight, it often proved rewarding between the bounty and spoils.

“You lot are no better than bandits, I can do with you whatsoever I please. But be glad I did not ask for ransom, you think me a fool. A bunch of second and third sons of lower nobles are expendable, they won’t pay a single silver for any of them. Not only that, should Xeander find out any of you are alive then your families will suffer a far worse fate than being ostracized. They will be lucky if they are sold into slavery after the catastrophic loss your forces suffered… after all someone must act as the scapegoat. Do you honestly believe a dirty rotten toad like Xeander would assume any of the responsibility?” This time the former Myrmiese commander was silent, aware that the words the man before him spoke were the truth.

Tired of the back-and-forth debate and content with the outcome, Caedyrn dragged the now downcast Iphiclus towards the inscribed formation. For his part Iphiclus appeared to have resigned himself to his fate, allowing himself to be imprisoned upon the center of the runic inscriptions. His eyes never once moving from the Scholar as Niko activated the inscription and the magical energies began to flow towards him.

Iphiclus to his credit gritted his teeth even as the light reached him, his hair smoldering from the intense heat and his bare chest glowing red. The old soldier was determined not to show weakness in front of his enemies, to not cry or beg, yet even that stubborn resolve waned in front of the intense pain. In response he raised his head towards the heavens and roared like a wild beast, a slight trail of droplets running down the side of his face, mixing with the intense cold sweats from the growing heat, and smell of burning flesh.

When the ritual was complete Iphiclus was still sitting in place, his head hanging down, body slightly slumping forward. Yet what caught the Scholar’s attention was the inscription burned into his chest, there center mass was the branded image of a mana vortex. Iphiclus was still breathing, but the entire endeavor had taken a massive psychological toll upon him, he was unresponsive and had to be dragged back to the wagon to be imprisoned.

However, before he was dragged away, Caedyrn couldn’t help but watch in amazement as his branded skin began to heal, the skin greedily consuming the remaining strands of mana flitting around. The scarred flesh healing and the brand slowly being replaced with a blood tattoo depicting the same vortex, its center a red dot greedily sucking at the errant mana around it.

“Keep a very close eye on him, it appears we have our first deviant. However, be ready to kill him the second he wakes up should he show signs of rebellion. Is that clear?” Maatilani who was standing beside her Lord stared at him for a few seconds, before ultimately agreeing. From the man’s reaction, it was clear that the prisoner’s development was both desirable, yet extremely dangerous in the same breath.

“It’s time Maati, go get Malakos. He will be the first to undergo the infusion, be ready for anything. However, I believe our preparations will help to safely deal with the situation.” Maatilani who had been aware of the plan, left immediately as Niko and Caedyrn added the finishing touches to the formation and prepared for their first volunteer.

For its part, Rafflesia who was masquerading as Malakos didn’t seem the least bit worried, its focus was always on the runic inscriptions, a sense of fascination evident in those eyes alongside something darker and more obscure. Yet it would do nothing to halt the process that they were about to employ, as the runes looked very similar to those that they had begun with. A series of geometric shapes etched with inscriptions, the complexity had grown in recent days as trial and error resulted in new modifications necessary to better control the outcomes of the experiment.

“Come, let’s start. I can’t wait to see what kind of powers this formation will bestow on me.” A smile worked its way across Caedyrn’s face, yet Rafflesia failed to notice the cold look in the man’s eyes when staring directly at it. “Yes, I’m sure you will be very surprised… who knows what gifts this formation holds… well, shall we begin?” Rafflesia simply waved its glamoured form, indicating for the two, Niko and Caedyrn to begin the process.

The activation was similar as each time before and continued towards the outer circle before empowering the stakes. Up until this point everything looked and felt the same as what had been done for the past five days. Yet, this time instead of the light funneling into the vortexes and concentrating into the center, the mana hit a series of newly added inscriptions hidden within the vortices and the stakes.

This concentrated power reflected to the stakes, forming ethereal chains of blue light which lashed onto Rafflesia’s glamoured body, bringing it to its knees and sealing its movement. The dome of power began to reverberate as its form solidified, creating a thick barrier surrounding the man shackled within its center.

“What is the meaning of this! What have I done to be betrayed in this manner?” The impostor kept yelling but was visibly concerned with the ethereal chains as they ate away at the corners of its glamoured form.

“I’m afraid that is my question to ask… But it would be easier to show everyone present the true face of our uninvited guest. Too bad for you, you failed to tie up loose ends… now you’ll pay for that oversight… Come on out!” Caedyrn called out towards the forest path behind their convoy, waiting as the clopping of a pair of approaching horses could be heard.

Emerging from the underbrush was none other than Gylippos, and a recovering Malakos.