“You don’t wish to receive light?” Rakash asked. She spoke in the Gorthorn language. Her words were delivered with an elegant touch, some of which was clear even through translation magic. “Your teacher’s suggestion for a walk was a good one. She should have conveyed it as a command.”

Walking around won’t bring me back to Earth, I thought. Nor will it untangle me from Shiela’s games.

“Your teacher knows her magic,” Rakash said. “And she is being nice to you. It’s a mistake to disregard her favor. You need to put more effort into learning her wisdom before she grows impatient.”

“How can you say this so nonchalantly?” I asked. “I nearly killed you. My magic… If you hadn’t protected yourself from me, you would be dead. Why are all of you so adamant in getting me to cast more?”

“Without your magic, I would be dead,” Rakash said. “The Black Plate, as you call it, would have cut me into pieces. You defeated it. You defeated every single cultist. And thus, I am alive. It is not your fault that these cultists wished to kill us all.”

I didn’t respond. It wasn’t just the past that made paying attention difficult. It was the present, and the fact that I was currently projecting a total lie of myself. I was a Goddess’s apostle, one with abilities beyond what I realistically should have ever had. Yet, I was pretending to be any old recent awakener.

Was I a fool for not using Shiela’s system? Was I a liar for not showing my powers to my companions? I didn’t know. I simply didn’t know, and brooding over these thoughts was making me insane. I felt so damn guilty.

I couldn’t explain I was a Goddess’s apostle. I couldn’t explain the system’s inner workings. Shiela physically blocked me from both. How would have Remy react if I, the most clueless mage she had ever seen, suddenly cast Shiela’s menace of a fireball?

“You saw me casting magic,” I said quietly, my mouth facing a barrel in the opposite direction of Rakash. “You know that I’m not what I pretend to be. Why are you not revealing my lies?”

“Keep your secrets,” Rakash said. “I am not so impolite as to pry.”

“What?” I asked.

“You no-breeds are too quick to judge,” Rakash said with a smile. “To repeat, I will not pry. As my people say, ‘The kind are allowed their secrets.’ To question is impolite. To reveal is betrayal. I judge you to be a kind man, Cillian, and thus I believe your secrets are justified. Curious as I may be, I lack the right to your head.”

I watched her in genuine bafflement and surprise. This was not how I expected the conversation to go. “Your kind doesn’t care about others’ secrets?”

“Of course we care,” Rakash said. “But more than that, we care about keeping our secrets.”

“But you saw my magic at the church. Are you not worried I will cause harm?”

“The one most afraid of harm is yourself,” Rakash said. “It’s this fear that will bring you to danger. Whatever your powers are, you need to learn to control them.”

She’s lying, I thought. Rakash had insisted on staying in the wagon during Remy’s lessons, watching us. She doubted me just as much as everyone else.

“I believe you are honest with your lack of knowledge,” Rakash said. “You are not pretending. How, then, do you cast magic? Have you lost your memories? Forgive my bluntness. I am not asking for an answer.”

I thought of what I could possibly say. Truth was, I wanted to talk about this. I needed to. All this Goddess’s apostle nonsense was causing more stress and worry than a human should ever deal with. The only way to get the thoughts out of my head was to talk.

The tarp opened. Darko stepped in, then fully opened the back curtains.

“Cill,” he said. “I’ve got us a job. Come with me.”

I raised my head. The language of the conversation changed to Krose. I knew by some instinct. “I thought I was learning magic?”

“You’re still learning magic,” Darko said. “Magehood is a permanent occupation until death takes its place. That does not mean your life is only about spells. We’ve also got other bullshit that needs to be dealt with.”

“What’s… the job?” I asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” Darko said. “We’ll have to figure that out. I don’t think we’ve got cultists. Problems in need of Heroes nonetheless.”

“Give me a few more minutes,” I pleaded. “I need some rest.”

“Nope,” Darko said. He stepped further in, then pulled me up from my arm. “This is an order. I need your help. Now.”

I gulped, every inch of my body protesting. What on earth could Darko have ever needed my help with? This was a scheme. I knew it already. But I couldn’t exactly argue. Not with Darko’s speech still fresh in my memory. I forced myself to step out of the wagon.

My body was exhausted. That much became obvious by the first step. My legs were sore, muscles grinding against each other instead of working together. The type of pain one earned by sitting still for a concerningly long period of time.

I breathed the humid air of the scarcely packed swamp and followed Darko into the village. The sun’s glare from above forced my head down lest I blind myself. This suited me just fine. People were outside, all of similar nationality as Darko and the girls. Your usual village folk, I presumed. Whatever they thought of outsiders, I was not keen on confronting their looks. My attention was taken by the plank bridge underneath my feet, to make sure I didn’t sink into the mossy ground.

Darko kept his stare ahead, walking as confidently as ever. “Cill. How proficient are you at formal speech?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Acceptable?” I said. “By my own country’s standards?”

Darko nodded. “You speak nicely enough even at your most casual. We’re adventurers; we’re known to be a rowdy bunch. But as is now, your presence won’t exactly make for a good impression. Your posture won’t do. And neither will your weak tone.”

“Why?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

“Your current abilities as a mage are not proficient,” Darko said. “We can both agree on that. That stays true until you learn to cast proper spells and learn how to work with the team. Until then, I have another use for you. Simply put, your Hallowed chords are a powerful tool in negotiations.”

Ah, hell, I thought. Negotiations. My former occupation on Earth. Also, the source of my biggest failures and insecurities.

“You will need some training,” Darko turned to face me. He grabbed my temples and lifted my head. “First lesson. I don’t need you examining the bridge, as pretty as it is. You can’t stand as if you’re trying to hide from the world around you.”

I gulped as Darko further examined my posture.

“Your shoulders are drooped, and your back goes round,” he said. “As a result, your neck wishes to point downward. Straighten your body for me, will you? I won’t ask you to hold yourself like a royal swordsman, but I do need real posture, not whatever this is.”

Darko was right, of course. My shoulders were sore, and so was my back. I’d sat and stood like a hunchback for the majority of our ride. The posture had come naturally, as if I was some submissive slave. I forced myself to stand properly, as uncomfortable as it felt.

“Good.” Darko nodded. We resumed walking. “Stay like that, and maybe we won’t get kicked out of the premises.”

I complied with Darko's request, but I wasn’t happy about it. Keeping my head up meant I was more prone to attention from the outside world.

A woman wearing a summer apron and long boots hung laundry on a wire between houses. She paused as we passed. The moment I looked in her direction, she turned away, pretending I didn’t exist. Most village folk offered similar reactions. Children stopped playing, their mothers dragging them away in haste. A woman some turns ahead trotted through the wetlands out of our way, then watched us from behind a building with disapproving eyes.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to this kind of treatment,” Darko said. “The Krose aren’t exactly welcoming of outsiders. It’s a flaw of our culture, perhaps. I like to call it ‘concerned curiosity.’ The village sees you as a weirdo. Once you show them you aren’t a threat, they’ll open up.”

“But I am a weirdo,” I said.

“False,” Darko said. “You reason like a sensible human. You speak Krose better than some natives. This alone will intimidate people into listening to you. You just look like a weirdo.”

I bit my lip. “Do I need to talk? What if I enjoy my status as a weirdo? Really, what's there to negotiate in a village? Why would you need my help?”

“You’re right. There likely isn’t much to negotiate. Mostly because the town has nothing to offer.” Darko’s look turned sour. “There isn’t much to farm in a swamp like this. The reason Hastmire exists at all is to accommodate mana workers, as the land houses one of the largest mana wells in the area. Apparently, the well has been hijacked. The village has lost its income.”

“Hijacked?” I asked.

“That’s what we’re supposed to figure out,” Darko said. “The Guild doesn’t know what the hell is going on. From what I’ve heard, mana workers have holed themselves in the mines as some sort of protest. Soon enough, the village will starve without the well’s income. We’ll have to question the villagers.”

I suppressed a frown. The story sounded awfully familiar to what happened in Volés. “But… Why do you need my help? You’re better at negotiations than I am.”

Darko sighed. “Cill. Read the situation. I don’t actually need your help. What I need is your effort. I need you to give your all, even when it isn’t absolutely necessary.”

My eyes drifted towards Darko’s feet.

“Rakash told me you were heroic back in Volés. She said you have a kind heart. You wish more for others than you do for yourself, and you’re willing to put yourself in danger to save your friends.

“We need more of who Rakash described. Your moping fit can’t continue. It simply can’t. I won’t allow it. I need your determination, and so do you. You’d be surprised how quickly the body recovers once it realizes the world, in fact, is not over. For that to happen, the body requires your effort.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I agreed with most of Darko’s points, of course. Who was depressed out of their own will? Hell, I wished I could have been the person Rakash supposedly described me to be. It just wasn’t that simple. I couldn’t conjure willpower out of nowhere.

“That said, our stay at the village does hold real purpose,” Darko said. “And you, Cill, need real practice for our upcoming royal audience.”

“What audience?” I asked.

Darko had no intention of responding and sped up the pace. I rushed after him, posture slowly drifting back towards misery. Remy had been right in her assessment of Darko’s plans. I’d learn them only once the plan was halfway completed, and I was tangled beyond chances to escape.

Our trot through the village led us back to where we’d come, to the main road. I thought, in relief, that Darko would take me back to the wagon to practice more magic. As much stress as magic caused, I much preferred learning in the comfort of our wagon over any nonsense Darko wished to put me through.

Darko didn’t head to the wagons. Instead, we turned toward a larger log house by the edge of the town. The Guild Post.

“See that woman by the doorstep?” Darko asked. “She has begged all of us for help, regarding this mana well problem. I want you to accept her request.”

“What?” I gushed. The woman glanced in our direction. “No, I can’t do that.”

“And why is that?” Darko asked.

“Well, I…”

Goddammit. I had nothing to say. How could I have explained the absolute stupidity processing inside my head? I had no logical explanation as to why I was afraid of doing as Darko requested. Anything I could have possibly used as an excuse would make me sound like a total fool.

“Listen, Cill,” Darko said. “Nobody enjoys watching you mope. I don’t think you enjoy it either. It’s time we start living life for real. Don’t you agree?”

I nodded. Like a goddamn child being scolded, I agreed.

This turned out to be a terrible mistake.

“Good,” Darko said. “In that case, let us get going.”

With the speed of a cat, Darko slid behind me. He pushed me from behind with enough strength to force me forward, toward the direction of the stranger. She watched us with a concerned look on her face.

Holy shit! I panicked, realizing just what Darko was up to. He would force me into the situation against my will!

Adrenaline filled my nerves along with any and all chemicals appropriate for a battle to the death. My brain reacted as if Darko was pushing me into a pit of lava. It screamed a fight or flight request, desperate to bring action into the situation. I responded by freezing on the spot.

I was pushed to the front doors, a mere step or two away from the woman’s confused figure. She faced my panicked face in silence. She didn’t beg or plead, nor did I know what the hell I was supposed to say or do. For a moment, we stared at each other.

I opened my mouth. Out came incoherent stutters.

Then I slid past her, and through the front doors of the Guild, hiding my face in shame.