Millions had gathered under the shadow of the cloud layer to attend Forza’s funeral. People from all four paths were in attendance. They filled the halls of Teshima Academy, stood in its courtyards, and the three grand spires of the academy were accompanied by a sea of people stepping through the air.

As I moved among the throngs of people, some were crying, others were furious, and yet more simply stood in respect and watched the proceedings with tired eyes. Others had fallen in the battle. Many, many people. But the lack of a body meant that some held out hope that Forza was still alive. A few still did. But now a month had passed, and the world had come to an understanding that the funeral couldn’t be delayed any longer.

Everyone had come to pay their respects to a hero.

This is how many people you had an impact on, Forza. I thought. If the whole world could be here, they would.

I wasn't convinced Forza was dead. I couldn't allow myself to be.

That didn't mean I didn't appreciate what was happening around me.

The entire academy had been warded against the viewer’s gazes out of respect for the paragon. Once, Kynari had told me that her father wasn’t sure if the wards could truly hide us from the viewers eyes. However, it provided peace of mind to everyone present.

Those who wanted to watch the funeral but couldn’t attend in person could watch it through the Crossroads, where a recreation was being streamed. Both the wards and the Crossroad replica used more valoa than could normally be generated by either Teshima or the Crossroads alone. But there were more than enough volunteers to supply the valoa today.

High above us the cloud layer had been tentatively restored, but there had been no sign of the viewers since their strike. Either the rift that Forza had created was blocking their access to Nahcari, or they had suffered heavy losses that couldn't be fixed easily.

They’ll be back. I thought.

Everyone knew they would. But it wouldn't be any time soon.

My destination was a giant platform that had been erected behind the gargantuan statue of Forza in the courtyard.

Because the ceremony was a formality, there was only an empty box that would be buried at the footsteps of the statue. However, that didn't stop a wave of people rushing toward it as it was lowered into the ground.

I feel like I'm suffocating and not just because of the tension. Everywhere I looked there was another person. There are more people than I've seen throughout my entire life. Even if I put them into one room, it wouldn't be this big.

After spending nine years inside the dungeon, I wasn't ready for the mass of bodies that pressed against me as I walked toward the platform. Some of them moved aside. Others had to be shoved. Either way, I definitely wasn't comfortable.

I was drowning in a sea of strangers.

Laakari had warned me that something like this might happen. The old man couldn't make it today. No healer could. All of them had their duties to attend to and would be attending to them for the following months. Maybe even years.

Does it always feel like this to be around so many people? I wondered. I don't remember feeling like this when I was young.

I adjusted the mask Laakari had gifted me as my heart pounded against my chest. Sweat gathered at the ridge of my brows and my entire body felt tight, my breathing shallow and rapid.

“Hey, silly, come on,” a voice said.

Someone grabbed me and dragged me forward. It was Kynari, her hand wrapped in mine. Her orange eyes were duller today, though brighter than I'd seen them since Forza's disappearance.

Just like me, she wore a mask around her face. The mask was meant to represent a biyeu, a four-legged hunter with orange fur. It was long and pointed and had orange whiskers drawn on it.

Mixed with her auburn hair, it looked elegant.

"Do you think dad would’ve wanted this?” Kynari asked me.

Her voice was clear even among the mutterings of the crowd, and I nodded my head in response.

"He always did like showing off," I said. "And uniting people."

My words would have been taken as sacrilege if anyone had been listening. Forza was a perfect being in the minds of many. He could do no wrong, nor did he have any flaws.

However, my experience was a little different.

Over the years I'd fought with him many, many times. Not just in the fighting room either.

Forza was the man that liked to tease and play with his friends and enemies. When he had the overwhelming advantage, he would use it.

When he ate, he liked to smack my hands with a wooden spoon to test my reflexes. When I ran, he liked to run alongside me. When I was in pain, he stayed by my side and told me about his past. And even though I was always in pain from opening my valoa passageways, he always made sure to visit right after I opened one, even if it was just talking to me through the mirror in my room.

Those had been some of the best times in my life.

Kynari rushed through the throngs of people, not caring who she pushed aside or angered. When we drew closer to the platform that had been set up at the front of the crowds she slowed down, briefly dropping her mask as several burly men approached her, ready to kick her out.

They bowed low when they saw her face, each paying their respects to her. A couple of them shot me curious glances but didn’t stop me because I was with Kynari.

She's different today. I glanced at my friend.

Kynari was prim and proper as she moved across the platform. Her greetings were civil, and she had a delicate smile on her face, clearly formal and polite, though none could blame her for not feeling genuine happiness in this moment.

It was strange, seeing her in a different environment.

The Kynari I know is loud and brash, and whines constantly about puzzles.

Seeing her speaking to powerful guests like they were equals was jarring to my image of her. This was the girl that snuck into my room when I was sleeping and threw me off the bed, running away while laughing her head off.

I couldn’t see any of that in the person in front of me.

She’s so natural among all these people. I watched her greet another dignitary, a civil leader from one of the nearby cities. And here I am trying to think about how I can get back into the dungeon.

I snuck a glance at the nearby people. At the forefront of the gathering were twenty-five people. Each of them was from a different path, and their strength was crushing the world around them. Twenty-four of them were people that had traveled onto the fifth step of their paths.

A single person stood at their head. Unlike the others, his valoa and power was restrained. He carried a large ax on his back, and his hands were clasped tight in reverence.

He was Truin, the challenger of the oath of Violence.

As the only person to have reached the sixth step of his path, he was the man who would succeed Forza.

He looks like the kind of guy Forza liked. I thought. He's not as strong, but he looks reliable enough.

Once, I had dreamt about standing with these people in battle. Those dreams hadn’t disappeared. But they had taken a back seat.

“Uncle Eric!” Kynari shouted. “Aunt Kendra and Huia!”

She waved her hand enthusiastically to a trio that was near the centre of the platform. It was the first greeting I’d heard her make today that had a genuine hint of happiness in it.

They were a band composed of one man and two women. The man was a gargantuan mountain of muscle, larger than even Forza, and I could tell instantly that he had a focus on enhancement-type abilities. He wore a familiar set of black combat gear, and the two women beside him wore the same.

It was inappropriate attire for a normal funeral, but perfect for Forza’s.

“Young Kynari,” the man, Eric, swept Kynari in a hug and lifted her into the air. “When did you go and get so big and pretty? Men must be lining up to court you. But remember, they have to be as strong as me to qualify as your husband.”

“No doubt they'll be better looking,” Huia, a woman with bright blue hair, said.

“Don't mistake him for the baseline,” Kendra agreed.

The girls laughed and Eric huffed. Kynari reached up and gave the large man a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. Eric beamed, his eyes watering despite his happy gaze. Soon, all four of them were swept into a rush of conversation, discussing stories about Forza.

I stepped to the side and let them have their moment with Kynari.

So, this is Forza’s war band. I smiled at their banter. They seem like a lively bunch.

“You know, before your dad was the paragon of Violence, he was the brash man that accidentally punched two holes in his dorm wall when he reached the second step,” Eric’s voice thundered through the platform. “I remember I had to take the blame for half of them because he was scared the teachers would throw him out.”

Kynari giggled at the thought of her father being scared of a teacher, and the other two girl smiled at the memory. It was rare that Forza spoke of other people, but these were ones I’d heard about often. All of them had once been his companions, each an alumnus of Teshima Academy.

Of course, Forza didn’t need a war band anymore. But he’d told me more than once that he loved them not just for who they were, but because they didn’t treat him like a paragon or worship him. They were simply friends, and power didn’t matter among friends.

I glanced to the side and spotted a familiar figure.

Cuikhu Teshima was on the platform as well. Anger flared within my heart as I saw him, but I smothered it down.

Of course. Because why wouldn't he be here. I thought. Forza would have banned him, if he could.

My brother stood tall and proud among the twenty-four other travelers on the fifth step. There was no denying his meteoric rise and talent. He had only just reached thirty years of age, and already he was on the fifth step.

There were whispers that he would become the next Forza.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

To reflect that, he was the person standing nearest to the current challenger of Violence, Triun.

Truin watched the crowds, his massive ax swinging in tandem with his body as he moved forward to a lectern that had been placed at the end of the platform.

“It’s time to begin,” Triun’s voice spread out across the masses, amplified by an ability that had been cast on the platform.

I could see a nearby Insight-path traveler weaving her valoa across the platform to amplify the voices on it.

The gathered crowds hushed as he spoke, their eyes turning toward the future paragon as he raised his hands and swept them toward Forza’s statue.

“We are here to honor Forza, one of the greatest heroes–”

“He's such a boring speaker,” a whisper tickled my ears.

Auburn hair swept over my shoulder as Kynari stepped beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder as she gazed at the statue of her father.

“I think that means he’s perfect for the role,” I whispered back. “Until your dad gets back.”

“Yeah,” Kynari nodded.

Truin finished his speech soon after, and one by one, people stepped forward to praise her father, and tell stories of his exploits.

I could see Kynari’s temples tensing, her orange eyes glowing bright as esch story was filled with praise for Forza, describing him as being larger-than-life and greater than humanity. He was a perfect being, with no flaws to speak of.

None of them described the man that I’d come to feel was family.

One particular story drew laughter from the gathered crowd as a woman on the fourth step of the path of Enigma described a particularly flirtatious fight against Forza. Apparently, he’d swept her off her feet in more ways than one.

“That one didn’t happen,” Kynari whispered to me. “She made it up.”

“I could tell,” I replied.

How many of these stories are real? I wondered.

My thoughts were cut short when Kynari stiffened beside me. Her eyes narrowed as the next speaker stepped forward.

It was my brother.

“What’s he doing here?” Kynari hissed.

Ah, she didn't see him.

Cuikhu Teshima cleared his throat, his eyes tearful and his head downcast.

“Forza was a great man. A powerful, wonderful existence. Much like my fellow travelers, I have many stories to tell of his exploits. But I think you’ve heard enough of those for now,” my brother’s voice was honeyed and sweet, drawing the eyes of a crowd that had grown tired of speeches. “So, I’m not going to speak of the past, but of the present, and the future. When I first heard word that this funeral was to be held, I was devastated. I am not ashamed to say that I wept like a child that night. Forza was more than just a hero to me, he was a dear friend, and a companion.”

Ow. Owwwwww. Pain shot through me as Kynari’s hand squeezed my shoulder, her nails digging into my robe.

Even though she was angry, I couldn’t bring myself to feel the same way. My brother was a terrible human being, and one day he would pay for what he had done to me, but his feelings for Forza were genuine. I could still remember being jealous at how much my brother loved Forza more than he loved me.

Of course, that was before my affinity ceremony.

As far as I knew Forza hadn’t spoken to my brother in years. Even on the battlefield.

“We grew apart as the years passed by, but I always kept him in my memories,” Cuikhu continued. “And, yesterday, I found out that Forza had kept me in his. I was surprised to find out that he had enclosed an object to be delivered to me upon his death. ‘Truly,’ I wondered, ‘is this happening?’ and yes, it was. And, now, for all of you to see, I have brought the object that Forza intended me to have.”

The crowd leaned forward, their excitement growing as my brother put his hand into his robe, rifling through it and pulling out a piece of paper. Valoa swam across its surface, glittering as they formed a series of runes and symbols.

It was a warded contract.

“Oh no,” Kynari whispered. “No, no, no.”

I glanced at her curiously. Her expression was one of horror. Her face grew pale, and her hand shivered.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, nudging her gently. The piece of paper didn’t look like anything to me.

Before she could reply, my brother unfurled the paper and a beaming smile leapt over his lips.

“As some of you may know, I lost my brother at the age of six. He was a shining star, and the light of my life. Truly, it was a dark day, and only recently was justice finally served to those that killed him,” Cuikhu wiped away a tear, and the crowd lowered their heads in respect. “If he had lived, my brother would have attended Teshima Academy. I gave him my personal referral, and only retracted it upon his death.”

My eyes narrowed as Cuikhu weaved his fairytale. But I wasn’t focused on his lies. I was looking at the paper in his hand. A sinking sensation filled my heart as I gazed at it.

That couldn’t be…

“As you all know, only one referral may be given at a time. It also uses the life force of the referrer and referred to bind it to them. Thus, it can only be done when both are present, and living.

To give your own lifeforce to bind a contract is a mark of faith, and of belief, used only for apprentices and disciples with the highest of talents. It’s no exaggeration to say that those who receive one are as close as family. This is a referral for my brother to attend Teshima Academy. However, it is not mine.”

Cuikhu’s voice rose as he pushed the contract out in front of him. “Somebody else had also given my brother his referral. Forza himself. Before my brother passed, the paragon knew of his talent and tenacity, and he immortalized my brother by giving him a spot at Teshima Academy, keeping the contract intact even after my brother’s death. That was when I realized I’d lost not just a role model and a companion, but a member of my own family.”

“Oh, paths,” I almost screamed.

Forza had always told me that he had given me his referral to attend the academy. It was my highest priority when I was younger, and it made me strive toward improving myself. Since then, years had passed, and my focus had turned to other things, but I’d always taken solace in knowing I had it.

I’d never realized it was an actual, physical document.

The contract itself wasn’t binding, despite what my brother said. It was actually a type of protective ward that would stay intact while the two people used as it’s basis were still alive. Which meant that it was more like a super tough piece of sparkling paper.

I don’t have valoa, so Forza probably used something else to make it. Ah, right, life force. I remember giving him some blood when he first agreed to teach me. I frowned at the memory. Wait, that means that’s Forza’s valoa in the wards.

“I can’t believe this. It must have gone to your next of kin when the funeral was announced,” Kynari’s eyes blazed with anger. “I forgot about it.”

Cuikhu tapped the referral, its runes sparking at the contact, “today is a day of acceptance. My brother has passed, and the paragon too. Their memories will always be precious, but they are also bindings that hold us down. Now it’s time for me to grant them peace, just as they gave it to me. No longer will we be bound to the past, instead, let us walk forward into the future.”

Cuikhu placed his hands on the sides of the contract, his muscles rippling as he prepared to tear it in two.

He's going to destroy it. I stared at my brother numbly.

Years of blood, sweat, and tears had gone into making sure I could live up to Forza’s trust in me. Even now, pain greater than any human should ever have to experience coursed through me. It hadn’t stopped doing so for nine years.

And it had all started with that referral.

Once again, my brother was destroying my life before my eyes. He didn’t even know he was doing it this time.

Kynari shifted beside me, her muscles tensing. I’d known her long enough to see that she was going to jump in and take the referral from my brother’s hands.

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t mean that much to me anymore. I’m confident I can get into Teshima without it.” I whispered as I held her back.

Kynari shook her head, “no, you don’t understand, he can’t break that referral.”

Cuikhu ripped the paper in two, his face calm and serene.

“NO,” Kynari’s shout filled my ears.

A titanic force slammed into me as Kynari used me as a springboard, leaping toward my brother. Her eyes were wide, and I could see eyes turning toward her as she moved, but she was too far, and too late.

My brother didn’t hear her, instead, he frowned, and he gazed down at his hands in confusion.

The paper hadn’t budged.

Instead of ripping, it glowed with a brilliant red light, the valoa within swarming through the wards as they defended the paper from harm.

“What–” Cuikhu paused, his eyes narrowing.

A hush fell over the crowd, and everyone on the platform stiffened.

Then the paper disappeared, snatched out of Cuikhu’s hands by Kynari, and she jumped back, frantically clutching the paper to her chest. The valoa simmered down as it entered her hands, but it still bathed her panicked eyes in a ruby glow.

“Kynari.”

It was Truin that stepped forward, the future paragon of Violence calling her name.

“Kynari.”

Kynari ignored him, checking the paper thoroughly. When she saw it was fine, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Kynari.”

“What?” She snapped. Then she fell silent. “Oh.”

Everyone was staring at the referral in her hands with bated breath. The valoa within it still wriggled with life, brighter than that of any other present. That was normal for a warded contract. Expected, even. A ward made by a paragon was unbreakable even for a person on the fifth step like my brother.

But that shouldn’t have been the case here.

When Forza passed away, his valoa had lost its power. Meaning the referral should have been an ordinary piece of paper. But it wasn’t. Forza’s valoa was still active.

There were only two cases when that was possible.

For a moment I held hope that Forza was still alive. Then my hopes were dashed as I realized it didn’t matter.

If he really did use my blood to form it…Crap.

“The referral can only be rescinded with the permission of the participants involved,” Truin’s words were filled with excitement, and hope. “That means one of the people on the referral is alive. And we can track them if we free the valoa from the contract.”

His words were met with stunned silence, and I glanced back, spotting Kynari’s expression shift from shock to horror. She shifted her gaze from the contract to me, and I edged back carefully, preparing to run at a moment’s notice.

It was too late.

Without hesitation, Truin withdrew the ax from his back and slashed the contract in two, freeing the valoa inside.

The valoa flew into the air, free and ecstatic. For a moment the lights hovered, lazily taking in the feeling of the breeze. Then, they moved, swirling in a circle, until they gathered enough speed to rocket toward their target.

Straight toward me.

With a rush of force Forza’s valoa wrapped around my body, illuminating me like a beacon. They had gone to the one person they recognized among the crowd. The person whose blood had been used to bind them.

One by one everyone turned to face me, their eyes widening and glued to my form. I felt the crushing pressure of their gazes, but I couldn’t do anything to avoid them as Forza’s valoa circled around me.

I looked up and spotted my brother. Cuikhu’s eyes flickered with emotions, shock, worry, and strangely, relief.

“THIEF,” Cuikhu shouted. “HOW DARE YOU ATTEMPT TO STEAL THE PARAGON’S VALOA.”

Before anyone could react, he raised his finger, the tip glowing with crimson light, and sliced it across the air in front of him.

His valoa screamed through the air, forming a scythe as it tore toward me.

The attack was impossible to dodge, and far too powerful to defend against. In less than a second, it would slice me in half, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I expected to see my life flash before my eyes. Or think something profound. But in my final moments all I found myself wondering was why my brother was using his finger to kill me.

Where’s his sword? I thought.

The scythe whipped through my body, cutting apart the air above my head and the platform below my feet.

Is it over? Am I dead? I wondered. I don’t feel dead. But its dark. Oh, that’s because I closed my eyes.

I opened my eyes and jolted as the edge of Cuikhu’s scythe sank into my forehead, close enough to my skin that I could feel air shifting around it. A single, strangled gasp escaped my throat as the two halves of my mask clattered onto the ground, their echoes ricocheting across the silent platform.

The scythe didn’t move closer, and a second later I saw why. Several radiant lights were blocking it, holding it in place until it dissipated into nothing. With the last of their energy, Forza’s valoa was protecting me.

A moment later, the motes dimmed, and disappeared.

In their place was my brother, his advance halting as he stared at me in disbelief.

“Suna?”