I sat back as the meaning of Laakari’s words sunk into me. Since the world was young, people had walked along the paths. Those that had taken their first step were called travelers. However, the paths were infinite, and many had passed the first step long ago. Anyone could, so long as their valoa was of a high enough rank and they reached the necessary understanding of their path or embodied it well enough.

Everyone over the age of 18 was pushed onto a path by their valoa. Though most only took the first step a few years.

Those were the people who were said to be in the half-step stage.

All of them moved onto the first step, and, after that, around ten or twenty million travelers reached the second step. Less than a million reached their third step. And there were exactly three hundred four step travelers. Fifth step and above were rarer. Twenty-four people had reached the fifth step, with two of them being the second-strongest travelers of their paths, gifted the title of challengers.

Four people had reached the sixth step. Three of them were the paragons of their path. The final one was the challenger of the path of Violence, and they would have been a paragon if a single genius hadn't been born in their lifetime.

Only that person had reached the seventh step.

And that man wants to kill me. I despaired. Probably with a sneeze.

Technically, if Laakari was right, I'd stepped up to the entrance of my path early, though not actually stepped inside. Which meant I was in the half-step stage. As a result, I'd gained a phantom version of the path's power. It was more like a free sample, tempting me to step onto the path itself.

Which meant I was still pathless.

Without valoa taking that first step might still be impossible. I thought.

Kynari took a seat beside me, her father standing behind her. I could see my death in his eyes. Or maybe he was just confused. It was hard to tell with Forza sometimes.

A clunk drew my attention, and I glanced at the table next to me, seeing a new addition there. It was a cup of water with leaves floating in it.

“For your stomach,” Cuebracabezas said.

I gave him a grateful nod. The liquid was warm and tasted like herbs, washing away the foul taste in my mouth. When I turned back, Laakari was nodding absentmindedly to himself, growing more certain of his conclusion with each passing second.

“Activation, intent, and strain. These are all traits of a path ability, and things you've just shown me,” Laakari replied. “Kynari couldn't inject her valoa into you because your ability wasn't active. Also, you're in pain, so your intentions aren't aligned with taking in more valoa and exacerbating that pain. Instinctively, you know that your headache comes from the strain from using an ability you’re unfamiliar with.”

“Isn’t that impossible?” I asked. “You taught me the fifteen types of path abilities. Absorbing other people’s valoa isn’t one of them. Also, I’d need valoa to enter those paths in the first place. And I definitely don't have that.”

Forza was the one to reply, “the four paths are the ones we follow, but they are not the only ones to exist.”

We turned toward the paragon, and he rubbed his chin pensively.

“The paths are multitudes. Or rather, they were. Once, we traveled on thousands of them. Each one granted power, but most led to death. We refer to them as broken paths, and if they are stepped on accidentally, we guide people away from them. Unlike the four main paths, they do not have accompanying valoa, so taking a half-step toward a broken path is rare. Never take a full step. All that awaits you is death.”

Nothing different there, then. I winced at the thought.

“Simply put, paths are the physical manifestation of concepts. There are two ways to walk one, understanding the concept, and embodying it,” Forza said. “The paths of Violence, Insight, Enigma, are intricately linked to the concepts of strength, wisdom, and intelligence, all of which are universal and easy to understand. People naturally step into one of those paths as their life progresses.”

“That's why these paths have persisted where others have faded from memory,” Laakari interjected. “Valoa only makes the process of progressing through the paths easier.”

“Yes,” Forza hummer. “Thank you, Laakari.”

Forza’s tone was as sharp as a knife, and the healer held his hands up in surrender. Kynari’s father smirked in victory, a childish emotion that quickly disappeared.

Those two are good friends. I noted.

“When a new concept becomes heavily embedded in society, a new path is created. For example, thirty-eight years ago, there were only three major paths. Then the viewers descended, and on that day the path of Challenges was created. Because the threat they represent is so pervasive, the path of Challenges rose to become as common as the other major paths.”

Forza paused, and I saw a pained expression cross his features. The fact that a path’s prominence wasn’t a good thing. It just meant that the idea of the never ending war had become rooted into the world.

I took the chance to step back and think over his words.

A path. Just like I’ve always wanted. A flicker of joy bloomed within me. But no valoa. And that’s the thing that’ll kill me.

I was starting to see why Laakari wasn’t happy with his diagnosis. If a broken path was fatal to step onto, then it wouldn't help me to be invited onto one. On top of that, valoa guided people through the paths, but the two weren’t one and the same. A person could walk a path without valoa, and a person could have valoa for years before unlocking a path.

Valoa was what I needed to survive my ordeal. The lights cleared impurities and toxins and strengthened the people they bonded with.

Without valoa, I couldn’t be cured.

“Let’s not lose hope yet,” a voice said. “This is just another puzzle to be solved, and gaining more pieces is never a bad thing.”

It was Cuebracabezas that had spoken. The Minister of Enigma had a smile on his lips.

“First, let’s focus on the key piece. Suna must be embodying a concept,” Cuebracabezas said. “Which concept is it?”

His question was directed at Forza.

“The broken paths are numerous, and Suna’s situation is unique. Perhaps his broken path represents the concept of those who reject valoa, or even the concept of those without valoa in their body. It could even be the ideal of a pathless itself, manifesting into a new path,” Forza shook his head. “But knowing the path’s concept isn’t enough. He has to truly understand what he is embodying and how in order to prevent stepping into the broken path. Or else he may step onto it naturally when he grows older. Normally, valoa could guide him onto one of the four paths to ensure this doesn't happen, but...”

“But nothing. That is one piece to be uncovered, and now we know now we have to do so. That's more than we knew before,” Cuebracabezas didn't lose his smile. He turned to me, pointing at my arms where the impurities still clung to my skin. “Don’t feel downhearted. You did eject something from your body. Any time gained is invaluable.”

“You’re right,” I shot him a grin. “Thanks.”

“I should be thanking you. I’m my own person, make no mistake, but just as you have your flesh, I have my valoa. However, a flesh and blood body is required to use illumination techniques. My valoa should always be the same rank, unchangeable, and immutable. I didn’t know this was possible.”

Cuebracabezas waved his hand, emphasizing the increased radiance of his index finger.

“Nor did I,” Forza murmured, and Laakari nodded in agreement.

“Exactly,” Cuebracabezas gestured at me. “I’ve seen Suna do three impossible things today. Rejecting valoa, absorbing bonded valoa, and illuminating that bonded valoa. If you tell me that his survival is impossible, then I say we add it to that list.”

Silence fell over the room as Cuebracabezas finished speaking.

A bark of laughter escaped my lips, and I launched my arms around the puzzle master, causing his cheeks to blush deep green.

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Everything he’d said was true.

A new path ability, and my rejection of valoa. We saw those things as negatives. But he saw the opposite. What a strange new perspective. I tightened my hold around the Minister of Enigma.

They aren’t bad things. They’re achievements unique to me.

“You’re right,” I said. “What’s one more impossible thing, when I’ve done so many already?”

I turned around, facing Forza and Laakari, both of whom now shared my smile.

“The simulacrum- ahem, Cuebracabezas, is right,” Laakari said. “Testing is required, but let’s not give up hope. Your tolerance to valoa will grow quickly, and as time passes, we will find a way to cure you.”

“Yeah, testing,” I nodded. “I can’t wait.”

Forza held his hand up, placating my enthusiasm but keeping his own smile wide.

“Safe testing with Kynari and Cuebracabezas only. An untrained body can only handle so much. If you’d absorbed any valoa above Saiph-rank you could have damaged yourself permanently. You’re lucky that you discovered this through Kynari.”

“Aw, really?” I asked. “What if I tried to absorb yours?”

“Paths, no. You’d explode. Horrifically,” Forza said, then he glanced at Kynari, and his eyes moved onto my face, suspiciously focusing on my lips. He knocked his knuckles against his robes thoughtfully. “Maybe we should try it. Just to make sure. For science.”

“For science,” Laazari agreed.

The light grins on their faces betrayed their true feelings.

“I refuse to explode,” I said. “But I agree to be careful.”

“Good,” Forza nodded. “I will look into this further, but until then, don’t use your ability in public. Test it only within the confines of the dungeon.”

I haven’t stepped outside in eight years. But sure, I won’t tell my multitude of imaginary friends. I thought.

A whooping cheer startled everyone as Kynari bounded past her father, grabbing my wrist and tugging me toward my room.

“Okay, we’re all happy again and have a plan. Come on Suna, let’s go practice your new ability. The original way.”

Kynari’s voice was eerily reminiscent of a cascading waterfall of death. My heart drummed against my chest, playing a funeral rhythm so harsh that I thought it would explode.

I still have four years of life left, so why do I feel like I’m at death’s door? I wondered.

My instincts screamed at me to run. I twisted my wrist out of Kynari’s grasp and jumped away from her.

A second later a crash resonated through the dungeon as a tsunami of red valoa dropped between Kynari and I, eerily reminiscent of blood. Forza’s hands glowed as he activated his path abilities, and the wave of valoa was thick and tall enough that I couldn’t see Kynari on the other side. Sweat dripped from my every pore as I felt the gaze of a murderous beast piercing into my back.

Surely Forza wouldn’t have crushed me so soon after I’d found a glimmer of hope. He just wanted to scare me.

Right?

“No, no,” Forza gestured, and the red tsunami disappeared. “No, no, no. No, no. No.”

“What’s wrong?” Kynari glanced up at her father, batting her eyes naïvely.

“Now that we’re all settled, I need to talk to Suna. In private.”

“Okay,” Kynari nodded.

Oh, paths, no, I’m not ready to die. I thought.

I reached an arm out to grab Kynari and drag her in front of me like a meat shield, but she had already jumped ahead and disappeared into the depths of the trial of Insight. With a swivel I turned to my other companions, my two teachers who had stood by my side since I was a child.

Cuebracabezas and Laakari had vanished, both of them leaving nothing but tiny motes of valoa in their place. In the distance the door to the trials of Violence and Challenges slammed shut.

“Teshima?” I asked. “Are you there?”

The walls stayed silent, their constant rumbling presence mysteriously absent.

Et tu, Teshima? I scowled.

“Well, this was a great talk. Lots learned. I’d best get some rest,” I said.

I pushed off the ground, rushing toward my room, but I was forced to a halt.

Holding me in place was the grasp of a hand as sturdy as steel.

“Hang on a moment, Suna.”

Forza’s voice echoed across the walls of the dungeon, low and dangerous. With a calm and collected gaze, I turned toward the man whose existence caused the world to tremble.

“Tell me,” Forza’s eyes glowed dangerously. “What are you intentions with my daughter?”

“I-have-no-idea-the-kiss-was-an-accident.” The words shot out of me as quick as lightning.

I didn’t want to die because I’d spoken too slowly. I remembered Cuebracabezas’ story about Forza killing viewers, and wondered whether the paragon would sneeze on me during our conversation and ‘accidentally’ kill me.

Forza went silent, and then laughed, his face creasing into a massive grin.

“I believe you, Suna,” Forza said. “Ah, but I’d be careful saying that around Kynari, even if it’s true.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, tilting my head innocently.

Forza paused, opening his mouth to respond, but then he closed it.

In the end he nodded, coming to a decision.

“From now on, all health and hormone issues are Laakari’s domain,” Forza declared. “Pry him for details. Never me.”

I heard a pained shout coming from behind the closed door of the trials of Violence and Challenges, and my lips curled into a smile.

“Ask Laakari all the embarrassing stuff, I understand,” I said.

“Excellent, now then, Laakari will likely stay a while to record the details of your ability, but I’ll have to return to the cloud layer,” Forza said. “If I find any leads on what kind of path you’ve started to walk, I’ll let you know.”

With those words, he was gone. I collapsed to the floor a moment later, sweat pouring down my neck.

Okay. First, I'll head back to my room. Then I'll collapse, and thank the paths that I'm alive, and then, I'll get back to training.

After that day the year passed by like a blur.

Spar. Repeat.

Train. Repeat.

Absorb valoa. Repeat.

Open valoa passageways. Repeat.

Forza's sparring sessions only grew in intensity after I reached the half-step stage. It seemed like he visited the dungeon every week. I spent every other day increasing my valoa tolerance or surviving the pain of opening my passageways, but rushing years of work into months had its consequences. Not a day passed where I wasn’t in constant pain, feeling nauseous, or simply downright debilitated.

“I’ve found a lead on your path,” Forza said, his voice tired and weary.

Almost one year later to the day, I once again stood in front of Forza.

Except this time, he was injured.

****

Forza was wearing black battle gear similar to my own, his rippling muscles and golden skin peeking through dozens of cuts in the material. His eyes were weary, and blood seeped out of fresh wounds. Only moments ago, he’d strode through the ceiling of the dungeon straight into my room, his valoa wrapped around him like a second skin.

My eyes were immediately drawn to his injuries. I’d never seen him hurt before.

“Oh, paths!” I exclaimed. “Don’t worry, Kynari’s in the fighting room, I’ll go get her.”

“No, Suna, wait,” Forza said.

I froze as I heard urgency in his tone.

“Other than the people I know about, have you told anyone about your path?” Forza asked.

“No, but is that really an issue right now?” I stared at him in confusion. “You’re hurt. I didn’t even know you could be hurt. What’s going on?”

“Flesh wounds,” Kynari’s father stepped forward, wincing as his cuts shifted. “The viewers have been relentless today.”

I stepped forward, giving him a helping hand, even if he didn’t need it. With a nod he accepted it, and I gave him a seat on my bed. On his arm were several deep gouges, each digging deep into his flesh.

It looked like Forza had been clawed by a seven-fingered beast.

“My wounds aren’t an issue,” Forza’s voice broke my chain of thought. “Listen, Suna, I’ve uncovered a lead. Several, in fact. There were others that showed abnormality in their affinity tests.”

I tried to push aside my worry about his injuries, and his words made it easier. Curiosity bloomed within me, and I turned my attention to the matter at hand.

Abnormalities? I wondered.

“Did their bodies reject valoa like mine did?”

Forza nodded, rubbing his neck where a strange batch of needle-like pricks marked his skin.

“Yes, but their accounts vary from yours. The reported issues were with absorbing new valoa. You’re the only one without any valoa at all.”

“Only me?” I asked. Just my luck.

“That's why it was hard to find them. They weren’t declared pathless, as you were. However, some people reported early path abilities, and others stated that the children’s valoa was ‘different’, but never specified how. These accounts are scattered, and I couldn’t separate truth from fiction.”

“You couldn’t double check?” My question came out as an accusation. “Just see if they reject valoa. Or if they absorb bonded valoa. Any new information is invaluable, what possible reason could stop you from confirming it with them?”

Ah, damn it. There I go with another outburst. I thought.

“I wanted to, Suna, but I can't,” Forza’s eyes gleamed crimson. “They're all dead.”

I stepped back at the anger in his tone. I wasn’t its target, but the wall of fury threatened to overwhelm me just by being in its presence.

“Most were killed years ago, and the last one died months ago,” Forza continued. “Nobody noticed a pattern because there was none to notice at the time. I’m sorry.”

The moment the words left his mouth, I saw the worry in his eyes for what it was. He wasn’t anxious about his injuries, or weary because he’d been fighting. Those were normal, everyday occurrences.

He was scared for my life.

Someone killed the other pathless. Wait, no. We don’t know that they were pathless. But obviously, something was different about them if they’re dead. And there’s only one suspect at the top of my list.

“Did my brother kill them?” I asked.

Forza stiffened, his eyes filling with shame.

I’d come to know Forza as a father figure in the years since my affinity test, but we’d never talked about my brother. It had always been an open secret between us that I knew Cuikhu had tried to have me killed. It was something neither of us needed to say out loud.

Me, because I wanted to move past it.

Forza, because he blamed himself for it.

For years he had kept me safe from my brother and had me healed, sheltered, fed, and trained. And yet, the guilt was still there. The paragon had always felt that if he’d noticed my brother’s disposition earlier, then I wouldn’t have to have my life ruined.

In a way, Forza believed he’d destroyed my life. But I’d never blamed him. I blamed the real culprit, my brother.

“No,” Forza sighed. “That was unrelated. In fact, I think it helped you survive. Since the world thinks you died years ago-”

Crack.

Something large broke in the distance.

Forza swore, the first time I’d ever heard him do so, and his eyes moved toward the dungeon’s ceiling, worry embedded within them.

“Not now,” Forza whispered. He turned to me, his eyes glowing bright as he activated his valoa. “The viewers have launched another attack. I need to return to the cloud layer.”

“Then you have to go,” I said. “Thanks to my brother, the world thinks I’m dead. So, there’s nothing to worry about.”

I pointed up at the ceiling and Teshima’s walls rumbled, opening a passage for Forza to fly through into the outside world. In the distance I could hear crashes and see valoa illuminating the clouds.

The paragon’s valoa burned bright red as his body floated into the air, his muscles engraved with lines of valoa that blazed with power.

Forza looked down, not hiding his concern for me.

“Listen, Suna, and listen carefully. The world believes you’re dead, and whoever is killing these people believes you’re dead. That is your protection. Until I come back, do not reveal your path to anyone, even if you trust them with your life. We will get to the bottom of this. I promise.”

I watched as he rocketed into the sky, a beaming pillar of valoa that gave hope to the people below. Forza’s presence was cheered by all across Nahcari as he entered the fray. I hadn’t tried to reassure him, nor had I wished him luck. He was a paragon, unstoppable and invincible.

That was why I didn’t doubt his words. His promise was as good as law.

If only I’d known he wouldn’t be able to keep it.