“That was the stupidest plan I have lived through,” Shena said. She plumped down on her back on the soft royal mattress with a wide smile on her face. She was out of her robe, revealing a silk dress underneath. Women wore one hell of a lot of clothes in this world, it seemed.

I sat on my bed on the other side of the room, brain barely running. What had just happened? My memory was already conflicting with my beliefs of reality. I recalled living through a royal audience, all that shit, but was the person in control truly me? Had someone possessed me?

“Darko is goddamn Azetoth’s son…” Shena said with a sigh. “And you, Cill, Lord knows who you are. This whole operation is getting weirder and weirder. When will you reveal that Remy is actually a gremlin shapeshifted into a Princess?”

Remy sighed. She sat sideways beside the wall, staring out of the window.

The window did not point outside, but offered a view of the temple’s grand foyer. The guest room provided for us was seriously luxurious. Four canopied beds, all constructed of some pretty black wood. Three wine glasses stood untouched on a small round table, offered to us by the royal servants. The heavy door offered silence from the world around us.

“Why is the mood so sour?” Shena asked. “Are you two unhappy with the results?”

“No,” Remy said. “I’m shocked and distraught. These types of major events require some thinking and getting used to.”

“Agreed,” I said. “I’m kind of in disbelief.”

Shena laughed. “Oh, I am too. I’ve been in disbelief ever since we embarked from Volés. But I think the shock is finally turning into the good type of bafflement.”

I shared the smile, though mine wasn’t nearly as wide. Shiela be damned, but I somehow succeeded. The reason we were still together was because of my stupid persuasions.

And yet, I feared this little nap hour was the only celebration we would get. Soon enough, we’d have to start working again.

I, the supposed expert mage with Hallowed chords, was expected to start performing for real now.

“I’m sorry, Cillian,” Shena said. “I shouldn’t have argued about saving Darko. Saving him was the only option.”

“Don’t apologize,” I said. “The plan wouldn’t have worked without counter-arguments to strengthen the foundation.”

Shena stared at the ceiling for a moment. “How much about you do we not know yet?”

I had no response. I literally wasn’t allowed to reveal my true self, thanks to Shiela’s bullshit system. Soon enough, I’d have to start using the system for real. Leveling up, unlocking more powerful spells.

The door opened, and our heads lifted. In proudly strolled our leader, now clad in his old rough adventurer’s harness. The same one that was stolen from us at the bathhouse.

“Two thousand and seven hundred sixty-five,” Darko said.

“Sorry?” Shena asked, sitting up on her bed.

“Our debt all combined,” Darko said. “A nice sum, wouldn’t you say?”

From the grin on his face, you’d think we had won the sum instead. This was our leader, that much was clear.

“Darko…” Shena said. “Could you do us all a favor and jump off the window?”

“Ooh,” Darko said. “More debt. Yummy.”

Shena frowned. “I have long wondered what the reason for your stupidity is. I am no longer confused, having heard who your father is.”

Darko sighed, the grin fading. “I had hoped my friends wouldn’t see me as my father’s descendant. It’s exhausting, being the son of someone so fucking vile. I’m sorry for hiding all this. I truly am. I hope you see why it was necessary.”

Shena lay back down and bit her lip. “Sorry. It’s good to see you. But I am annoyed with you. More so than usual.”

“Perfect,” Darko said. “Thank you all for the operation. Even though I did not deserve it.”

“Thank Cillian,” Shena said. “He’s the one who organized this fiasco.”

“What the fuck,” Darko said. “Seriously?”

I looked away. “No, thank Remy. She’s the one who taught me.”

Remy snorted. “Shut up. You’re lucky you didn’t fail because of me.”

She pouted, hiding her face against the window. The rest of the team shared glances, trying to guess what was wrong. That was until Darko grabbed Remy’s arm and lifted her up. His attack was fierce—he trapped her in an inescapable hug. She let out a squeak, trying to struggle free. She failed.

Darko patted her on the back before letting go. “I don’t care which one of you sniffers performed what part of this. What matters is that we are afoot. Starting tomorrow, you are all trapped in paying off our goddamn debt. You can only blame yourselves; I did not ask to be saved.”

“As if we had any say in finances before this,” Shena said. “I don’t think I’ve earned a single penny working under your leadership.”

“Right,” Darko said with an awkward smile. “Get some rest today. Stuff will get crazy tomorrow, I promise.”

“Please don’t,” Shena said.

“Already done.” Darko grinned. He took one of the wine glasses from the table and took a sip. “Cill, come with me. I need to talk to you alone.”

I didn’t object. This type of behavior was now totally expected from Darko. He could have told me we were going fishing for sharks, and I wouldn’t have batted an eye. I stood and followed.

Darko strolled through the carpeted hallways of the temple as if he owned the place, wine glass in hand. We passed doubtful servants alike. Darko offered a smile to each one of them.

“You look good today,” Darko said. “The new style fits well.”

“I don’t,” I said, remembering my bald head. “But thanks.”

“I was serious,” Darko said. “You’re like a wise old man, except you’re still young and attractive.”

He picked a seemingly random door in the hallway. We entered a smaller chamber with bookshelves on both sides. A study room of sorts, lavish in decorations. I shut the door and faced Darko.

“Well, then,” Darko said as he took another sip of wine. “You’re a real mage? I’ve been tricked all along.”

“Real is a subjective term,” I said. “I can cast spells. But I can’t weave magic. In a way, I’m the fakest mage you have ever met.”

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“Funny phrasing,” Darko said. “If we fought, who would win?”

I watched him examine the bookshelves. “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t win fights. My opponents have just lost harder than I have.”

Darko sat down and laughed. “Goddamn mages. The world would be so much simpler if we all wielded vigor.”

“Or if our powers didn’t exist at all,” I said.

“That would be a paradise,” Darko said. “Until we all get eaten by dragons when the Wall isn’t defended.”

“Right,” I said.

For a moment, we shared silence. Darko was awkward around me, that much was obvious. He sipped the wine, thinking of what to say.

“I became a mage this week,” I said. “Please believe me on that. I am a total beginner. The reason I can cast magic is because my powers work differently from everyone else.”

“Interesting,” Darko said. “Are you a Saint or something? A Goddess’s apostle?”

My heart skipped a beat. “Uhm, no?”

“Dang,” Darko said. “I was hoping my team had scored big.”

I looked down, biting my lip.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” Darko said. “What’s important is that you’re a good guy. I know as much. And, uh, I guess this is supposed to be the part where I thank you for saving me. And I am thankful. But I honestly don’t know if this was a good idea.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“We’ve got no chance,” Darko said. “Unless you’re approximately strong as heck, we’re never defeating Azetoth. Or even Jordan Feryah for that matter. Our fight earlier made me aware of as much. I’m not nearly as strong as I thought I was. In terms of pure power, Jordan alone doubles our strength. There is a reason why I wished to drop this plan.”

I paused. “Then… Are we continuing the plan?”

“We are,” Darko said. “And it might be a mistake.”

“But we almost defeated Jordan already,” I noted.

“You almost did,” Darko said. “Were you not with us, all of us would be either dead or trapped and tortured. I can’t imagine what my father would have done to me had Jordan delivered me to his lair.”

“Vigor can be trained stronger, just like magic powers, no?” I asked. “That’s what Remy taught me.”

“Sure,” Darko said. “Training is a long process. I’ve trained from the age of seven to get where I am now.”

“But it can be trained,” I said. “I think you should get out of this moping fit and start working.”

“Goddammit, Cill.” Darko shook his head and offered his version of a slow facepalm, a vague smile visible below. “I’m killing you right after Azetoth. Remember that. We’ll be out celebrating our victory, and I’ll slip a drop of gremlin piss in your drink.”

“Did you want to talk about something?” I asked.

Darko sighed. “No, I mentioned everything. I’ll brew us a new, better plan, of course. Just know that my promises of protecting you have failed. And I’m fairly certain they will continue to fail.”

I wished to argue, but there was nothing to say. I could only agree. “We’ll work tomorrow, then? I’ve got to fight more cultists?”

“Yes,” Darko said. “You’re still afraid of them?”

I didn’t respond.

“It’s good to be afraid,” Darko said. “Fear is healthy in moderation. I can tell you I’m terrified of meeting Jord again. You’ve done a phenomenal job so far.”

I watched as Darko took another sip. “I’ll be back for more planning in some hours,” he said. “First, I’ve got a few more people I need to meet.”

I nodded. “Good luck. And give me that.” I grabbed the wine glass from his hands and took a sip myself. “This was my wine. And I think I’m going to enjoy a few drinks before your nonsense comes in and ruins the fun.”

***

The fresh wind of the night sky whipped Darko’s hair as he sat by one of the temple’s many balconies. A downpour thumped on the marble above. Nature’s most beautiful song. What need was there for instruments, when one could simply construct a canopy and wait for the best of songs to appear?

Darko had been away from his team for another hour longer than promised, waiting for his last guest. A guest he was genuinely surprised to see within the King’s ranks.

Armored footsteps sounded from behind. Finally, Trist Fel Blythe found his way alone to Darko’s company. Darko could imagine the grimace on Tris’s face long before the helmet came off.

“Hello, Tris,” Darko said with a grin. “You’ve grown.”

Time had drawn additional lines on Tris’s face, some natural, most scars from battle. He had his mother’s face, though with quadrupled seriousness and far rougher skin. His shaved head had started to grow black hair, not one stroke of red visible.

Darko considered himself lucky to have inherited his mother’s red hair. In turn, he had to suffer his father’s face. He and Tris were opposites in more than just their expressions.

“Darryl…” Tris said. “I can’t express how disappointed I am to see you.”

“Pfft,” Darko said. “Here I thought you had died on your quest. Glad to see you’re still kicking.”

“My quest has proceeded on the sidelines,” Tris said. “Through subtle schemes. Ones that your presence risks ruining.”

Darko stared at the view below. The construction workers repairing the damages of his trot through the city had finally gone to sleep. They’d continue tomorrow morning. Lights were turned off throughout the city for all but the wealthiest of noble keeps. The nobles had an odd way of partying. “A ball” they were called. Darko never understood the appeal of such fidgety revels.

“You have broken the agreement,” Tris said. “There is no other way to put this.”

“I am aware,” Darko said. “But if you recall, I signed the agreement when I was five years old, and without understanding the details of whatever I was signing. This, by law, deems the agreement invalid.”

Tris placed his hand on Darko’s shoulder and squeezed. Hard. “Do you know how much work I put in to create your false identity, to hide you in that village? You ruined it all by choosing to play adventurer. Father will connect the dots sooner than later.”

“Your efforts in hiding me were great, and I am thankful,” Darko said. “You simply made one crucial miscalculation.”

Tris raised his eyebrows.

“That is, life in a barn is way too goddamn boring for a member of our lineage.”

“Fool,” Tris said. “Absolute fool. I should have tied you down with a slave contract. What you’ve done today is the worst betrayal our lineage could have received. I thought we agreed that you should not attempt to become clever.”

“Oh, I don’t claim to have done anything smart within the last decades,” Darko said. “I’m lucky to have been born in this family. The Blythe bloodline is the only place in the world where I’m only the third dumbest member of the family.”

Tris’s face grew another line.

“Point is, I’ve done all this adventuring stuff on purpose,” Darko said. “Father is allowed to hunt me if he so wishes. He will be easier to locate if he comes searching for me.”

“He will kill you,” Tris said.

“Maybe,” Darko admitted. “I don’t plan on going down without a fight.”

Darko lifted Tris’s armored hand off his shoulder with the help of vigor. Then, Darko held out his hand.

Tris stared at his hand suspiciously. He was not a wielder of vigor, but he was clad in steel plate. An outfit that was generally considered cheating within the game of Krose handshakes. Still, Tris accepted.

Darko kept a serious look. He directed his powers at his hand, though kept a reserve ready for unexpected nonsense. Tris was known as the type of guy to cheat in play fights just to prove the game was stupid.

No nonsense came Darko’s way. He squeezed lightly on the metal protecting Tris’ fragile arm. Crushing the metal should have been simple enough, though that wouldn’t have been fun. This was just the opportunity to show off. Vigor was more similar to mana and magic than one could think. With enough mastery over the power, interesting feats were possible.

Darko didn’t push outward with the power of his own muscles. He injected vigor directly into Tris’s glove.

The glove shattered into pieces. The whole thing. It crumbled, slowly falling off Tris’s arm. Tris’s eyes shot wide.

Darko grinned. He placed his hand on Tris’s shoulder. “You’ve been a spy, correct? Where is Father?”

Tris hesitated. “He moves constantly. It’s impossible to say where he is. His main base is a mansion in Vulusen, belonging outwardly to House Kendyll.”

Darko nodded. “We are the same, brother. We have always been. Don’t even attempt to bear this burden yourself. Zara is ours to avenge. And the time to do so is now.”

The end of

Volume 1