Back at Rayen’s room, Bardar knelt by the bedside, his blonde hair darkened and matted from the moisture, strands dripping water down his face. The fabric of his drenched tunic and pants clung to his slender frame.
“She shouldn’t have hit me like that,” his eyebrows drawn together in an expression of wet disgruntlement. His anxious eyes held a hint of indignation as he went on complaining. “That’s why they call her a brute. She didn’t have to wash me away, just for asking about a gift.”
As he spoke, droplets of water rolled off his hair and clothes, splashing onto the wooden floor beneath him. He looked like a soaked cat, bedraggled and stewing in his soggy state of distress.
Rayen lay unmoving on the bed, eyes closed, with a faint awareness of intermittent sounds emerging from the brown orb hovering near his head. Instead, he directed his focus to regulate the flow of mana.
“And Cherry, that troublemaker. She set me up for this, didn’t she? Telling me to go talk to Cellia, knowing full well how she’d react. Now look at me, drenched to the bone.”
He released an exasperated huff, wiping the lingering moisture from his face with his soaked sleeve, only to get wet again. The fabric squelched as he moved, saturated with water. The prank orchestrated by Cherry had put Bardar in a rather disgruntled mood, judging by his continuous grumbling. His vexation was evident in every sodden inch of his being.
Meanwhile, Rayen remained lost in his own world, visualising the mana flowing outward like a stream. He tuned out the complaining sounds from the orb, directing his full focus on maintaining control. The consequences of mana overload were too dire to spare any attention from Bardar’s current waterlogged predicament.
Finally done with complaining, Bardar looked over at Rayen again. Noticing the wispy trails of mana releasing into the air around the boy. “Don’t do that!" he exclaimed. "When mana leaves your body unguided, it will just disperse uselessly.”
Rayen glanced over at the anxious orb, his concentration broken.
“The second rule of magic is to concentrate the mana outside your body to cast spells,” Bardar explained, trying to turn out his words enthusiastically, but failing to spell out anything other than a calm voice. “There are two principal methods. The first is the outdated approach of practising over and over until you learn to shape the mana through the force of will alone.”
Bardar reached over to a small wooden box sitting beside him, his clothes still damp from the earlier dousing. “Let me show you the better way,” he said, lifting the lid to retrieve a small object. It was a spinning top made of polished ash wood, with delicate traceries etched along the sides.
“This is an anchor I crafted,” Bardar explained eagerly, holding up the top between two fingers about the size of a plum, perfectly balanced, with a slender point on the bottom. The orb’s voice swelled with obvious pride as he displayed his creation.
“An anchor is an object you imbue with your mana, allowing you to practise shaping and directing magical energy more easily. It acts as a conduit, giving you greater control compared to trying to form raw spells from your inner reserves alone.”
Bardar’s eyes seemed to glow as he continued. “To make an anchor, you must choose a material with innate mystical properties, like ash wood. Then you instil it with-”
“What the hell are you babbling about?”
His smile paused as the door opened and Cellia walked in.
“ What are you doing here?” He flinched a little, seeing her like this, afraid she would wash him again.
“ I was free and… why are your clothes still wet?”
“Why do you think so? Anyway, don’t disturb me when I am teaching.”
Bardar looked back, and while holding up the top, he concentrated for a moment. The intricate etchings shone with a soft blue light as mana flowed from the orb into the spinning top. “Here, I will show you.” Placing the glowing top on the ground, he flicked his finger to send it spinning in a rapid circle.
“With my mana stored inside, I can direct simple spells through the anchor, like this.” Bardar made a sweeping gesture, and the spinning top began leaving a shimmering trail of icy frost behind it as it whirled across the floor.
“You see now?” he asked Rayen excitedly. “We will have far more control this way. In present times, mages craft their anchors to make spell casting much easier to master.” The top wobbled and fell still, its glow diminishing as Bardar pulled the mana back into his body.
“Hey, listen…”
“Shss … not now.”
Bardar’s eyes lit up, eager to explain more about anchors. “They are, at most, a fancier version of wands, though we don’t use such terms too often these days. The principles remain the same, but anchors can take any form–- like this broom here.”
Ignoring the women beside him, he picked up an ordinary-looking broom that had been lying on the floor nearby. “With the right runes etched into the stick, it can become an exceptional anchor. Runes allow for near-instantaneous spell casting.”
Under Rayen’s eyes, a trickle of mana flowed from the brown orb into the broom. The runes etched along the handle glowed a little. Suddenly, the broom seemed to take on a life of its own, sweeping up dust around the room.
“The broom acts as my anchor, directing the mana into a simple animation spell,”
“Bardar, what I want to say is…”
Not listening to her at all. Bardar picked up a pendant from the box. “Anchors can also be jewellery, too. Let me show you.” He poured mana into the necklace, causing it to glimmer. A gentle breeze began circulating through the room, drying Bardar’s sodden clothes. Cellia’s eyes gleamed at the pendant, with a small thought of getting a gift like that.
“This pendant channels air magic. Imbuing anchors with your mana allows you to control what type of spells you cast.”
At this moment, a force grabbed his head and turned it sideways. A beautiful face with blue hair greeted him up close as warm breaths hit his face.
“What I am trying to say is, what the hell are you blabbing this nonsense for?”
“Huh!?”
“Even I feel my head spinning. Look, even he is confused.” Finally, Bardar turned and, seeing Rayen’s blank stare, Bardar tapped his head from his free hand as if just remembering something. “Oh, I forgot to explain the standard ranks used for mages and knights, thanks to a certain brute...” He wanted to continue, but Cellia was not done.
“ Did you seriously know how to teach?”
“What do you mean? I explained everything”
“ And it flows over the bridge like a tsunami of words.” Her eyes twitched seeing him still not understanding the point. “ Even a normal adult would have trouble understanding what you just ‘explained’. Do you really think Rayen can understand what you just said? Like at all?”
She turned his head to the third person and, seeing the stares of Rayen, silence fell into the room.
“ Um-hm., right, since our focus is on the older ways, all this talk of anchors doesn’t apply to us.” Feeling Cellia’s hand tightening around his face, Bardar hastily pulled away, lest she crushed his head, and took out a strange black metal ball from the wooden box and set it on the floor in front of Rayen. Made of some dark, unearthly material that shimmered as it caught the light, strange symbols etched across its surface in silvery script.
As Rayen watched, the etched symbols glowed with a soft violet light. Before his eyes, the glow intensified until thin tendrils of light started wafting up from the sphere like vapour rising from a lake on a frosty morning.
These wisps curled and bent in the air, being drawn inward as if sucked into an invisible vortex. Soon, all the shining threads got pulled inside the metal ball, and its surface dimmed for a moment before the glimmer returned. Rayen continued staring, transfixed, as the mystical sphere repeated this cycle over and over. More shining wisps rose from the glowing runes, only to be inhaled again into the dark depths of the metal orb.
Bardar cupped the smooth metallic sphere in his palm and focused. He began gathering mana, drawing it from the surroundings like glistening mist. The wispy tendrils converged above his palm, swirling faster and faster around the shimmering ball. With deft motions of his fingers, Bardar shaped the spinning mana into a thin, condensed ring, wrapping with force around the sphere. The magical energy compressed under his expert direction. He manipulated the mana as easily as a potter moulds clay upon a wheel.
The swirling ring of mana grew brighter as Bardar increased its velocity until the metallic surface enclosed within began to warp and stretch. The magical pressure deformed the pliable dark metal, pressing it inward.
Bardar’s expression remained placid, betraying no strain as he coordinated the swirling mana with elegant gestures. Under his masterful control, the sphere indented further, crumpling under the focused mana constricting it. Within moments, the once smooth orb became pockmarked with deep gashes and grooves from the crushing force. Yet still the mana ring spun, dense and burning, directed by Bardar’s deft movements.
Finally, Bardar lifted his fingers, and the spinning ring dissipated in a flash. The mangled sphere lost its supernatural glow as the mana reabsorbed into his orb. With a casual wave of his hand, Bardar reshaped the metal back into a perfect orb, erasing all evidence of damage. Mystical metal endlessly deformed under his skilled hands. Even Cellia can only marvel at this, but she still didn’t forget to ask.
“This thing is useful, right? You are not just doing it for the sake of doing it, right?”
“Meaning? Y-Yes, of course, it had a meaning.” He felt something obnoxious as soon as he started and corrected himself. “ What I want to show is that with proper technique, your mana not only can overwhelm any leeching, but also exert physical pressure. A neat trick to flex your strength, if you ask me.”
“I see” Cellia nodded with dead eyes which creeped him out. “ And it is useful for Rayen because…?”
“ B-because the crystals seal his body, some of which are feeble. If he didn’t keep such things in mind, then the crystals might break at weak points.”
To avoid looking at her, Bardar shifted his attention and placed the pristine sphere onto Rayen’s bed. “Your training will be about how to guard your inner mana against being tapped. Stop the passive outflow before attempting to direct the mana.”
Bardar placed the sphere into Rayen’s palm. “Observe closely now,” he said. As soon as the cool metal touched Rayen’s skin, it began glowing, although dimmer than before. The boy felt gentle currents of warmth seeming to move toward the ball. It drew his nascent mana outward. But Bardar swiftly intervened, extending a tendril of his mana to block the leaching effect. “Without resistance, it will drain your reserves dry,” he warned. “You’ve awakened your mana now, so you must maintain a minimum amount in your body or face backlash. Now you try–- to stop your mana from being leached away. But stop the exercise if you feel any discomfort.”
But Rayen was no longer focused on Bardar’s words. His attention had turned inward, sensing the radiating warmth flowing just under his skin. When he tried to restrain the currents, he encountered fierce resistance as they stubbornly persisted in moving toward the sphere.
Suddenly, a new swell of warmth entered his palm, mixing with the first. This vital influx swirled around, pulling the drained heat back up his arm until it collected near his heart. After a pulse, it flowed again until it reached near the metal ball before being pulled away again, forming a cycle. The warring currents created a mesmerising equilibrium of energy throughout his body. Unnoticed by them, the sun began its descent.
***
In the endless void of Rayen's inner world, his wispy grey form floated without any direction, as usual. But now, the metallic sphere from reality had manifested within his ghostly hands. Rayen contemplated the strange object and the elusive warmth it sapped from the glowing golden orb at his core. This inner warmth moved with fluidity, drifting toward the metal ball just as the brown orb had described. Here, Rayen could direct the currents with ease, like swimming through water. Yet when he tried to halt the outward flow into the sphere, the warmth resisted, like swimming through mercury.
The dark-coloured metal kept drawing the mana, as if compelled by otherworldly laws. Rayen focused on stopping the transfer, but made little headway. The warmth poured forth unabated. If Rayen's phantom form could reflect expression, he would have furrowed his brow in consternation. Time passed, but the stalemate persisted. The brown orb's instructions proved simpler to speak than to accomplish, and so the stalemate persisted.
After an indeterminate time, Rayen finally glanced back toward the glowing golden orb - the source of the elusive inner warmth. He sensed the orb was constantly generating and releasing fresh energy to replace what the sphere had leached away.
Under his scrutinising gaze, the golden orb seemed to shudder ever so little, as if in protest at being forced to produce such an unending supply. But try as he might, Rayen could detect no way to lessen its output. The orb radiated endless warmth, like the sun shedding ceaseless light. With no other recourse, Rayen returned to his repetitive ritual of trying to restrain the outward flow into the sphere with little success. The cycle stretched on without end or progress. An eternity seemed to pass in the timeless void.
***
The next day, once again, Bardar drifted into Rayen’s room, his expression a mask of calm despite inner turmoil roiling beneath the surface. Only the slightest tension in his jaw betrayed the lingering upset from yesterday's incident. He moved to place a polished wooden box on the floor with deliberate care, as if any sudden motion might crack his fragile facade.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Cellia trailed after him, crystal blue eyes clouded with guilt. She chewed her lip, grasping for the right words to pierce Bardar's armour of false equanimity.
"You're not as fine as you're pretending to be," she finally said with the barest quiver in her voice. "I should never have lost control of my magic like that and washed you away."
She finally said the word. These were what she wanted to say yesterday when she first came to Rayen’s room, but when she heard his constant rambling about anchors, the thoughts eluded her mind, as she swept with the flow. ‘ No, I was just running.’ She shook her head at the thought.
Bardar didn't meet her gaze, busying himself with aligning the box just so next to Rayen's bedside. "It was nothing," he replied breezily, but the nonchalance felt forced. "Just an accident."
Cellia's shoulders slumped. She had hoped for at least a flicker of honest emotion, some crack in his polished veneer.
Sucking in a breath, she tried again. "I'm trying to make amends here. Won't you tell me something I can do? Anything to brighten your mood again?"
That finally provoked a reaction, Bardar's head jerking up in surprise as he remembered a package he had received some time ago and ideas already churning in his mind. "Actually, there is something..."
Cellia fixed her eyes on him with a sceptical look, sensing the devious gears already whirring to life in his brain.
"Nothing weird now," she warned. "I'll plump you again if you make me regret this." But Bardar just hummed with innocence. Lost in anticipation of whatever mysterious idea he had conceived. In fact, he had been waiting for this moment since last night when he came up with such a plan.
Bardar and Cellia then finally focused on the third person in the room, their cheerful greetings ringing out in tandem. Bardar moved to the bedside and picked up the strange metallic sphere that had become a fixture by Rayen's side. Gently, he placed the innocuous-looking orb into the boy's open palm.
He opened his mouth to offer some instruction or encouragement to the concentrating child. But before any words emerged, Bardar paused, eyes widening as if in dawning realisation.
Noticing the abrupt change in demeanour, Cellia asked, "What's wrong? Did something happen to Rayen?"
Bardar shook his head, taken aback by his finding. "It's just...I think Rayen may be starting to resist the mana absorption," surprise coloured his tone.
"That's impossible! It's only been two days! There's no way he could manage that yet." Cellia scoffed at this claim.
Undeterred, Bardar gestured for her to check for herself. Though not on Bardar’s level of control, Cellia possessed enough innate magical sensitivity to perceive impressions through physical contact. With an indulgent sigh, Cellia rested her palms on Rayen's shoulders. Closing her eyes, she focused her awareness, trying to detect the flows moving between the boy and the sphere.
At first, she felt nothing unexpected. But then, deep within, she became aware of the subtlest pushback against the sphere's constant pull. Difficult to perceive, yet the small turbulent undercurrents gathered strength against the overwhelming tide. Gasping, Cellia jerked her hands back as if burned, eyes flying open. "You're already doing it?!" she cried in delight and astonishment. "I can't believe you're resisting the absorption!"
In her excitement, she swept Rayen into an enthusiastic hug. But the sudden embrace broke the boy's fragile concentration. Without his fledgling control to hold it back, the pent-up mana released in a rush into the greedy metal ball. Cellia opened her mouth, ready to shower Rayen with enthusiastic praise over his rapid progress. But the words died on her lips as she noticed Bardar's expression.
He was staring at the metal sphere resting in Rayen's palm, his face etched with some indecipherable mix of emotions. Cellia fell silent, her elation dimming. At that moment, she remembered Bardar's dedicated efforts back at the academy, holding those metal spheres day in and day out. It took him a long time, two years to be exact, before he could show something noteworthy to his professors, who all just seemed to dismiss his efforts.
"Are you okay?" she asked, studying his tense expression. "You had a really strange look just now."
Bardar blinked a few times before replying, as if emerging from deep thought. "I'm fine, don't worry," he said with a reassuring smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's just incredible to see such rapid talent manifest right before me. A veritable genius in the making. Let's continue where we left off yesterday," he said, extending his mana to mingle with the energy flowing between Rayen and the sphere. As he guided the lesson, the odd moment seemed forgotten. His enthusiasm returned. The memories of the past also soured Cellia’s mood and so she just stood by, muted as the lesson continued to progress. Until an idea came to her and she left the duo.
***
A few days later, in the kitchen, usually a place where Bella cooks but for the onlookers, it becomes more of the spectacular show of floating knives and a ton of ingredients, all dancing to the happy tunes of her voice while the room gets filled with smell which makes one's soul be at peace. But today’s atmosphere was something different as instead of the old lady, a lady with short blue hair wearing an equally blue apron with azure hues in the corner. Cellia asked Bella to have her make all the food by herself despite the latter’s offering to do some side dishes.
The reason for doing this was also very simple. Sińce last week when she washed away Bardar with her magic, she wanted to apologise, but her attempt resulted in souring the mood for both of them. So this time she decided that actions speak louder than words, and when one wants to improve someone's mood, the best way is to follow their stomach. And so here she was, cooking the favourite dish of Bardar, a Curry.
The only problem is. “Should I sing some little tunes, too?” Looking at the book Bella handed her, Cellia can’t help but doubt the recipe's authenticity. In the past, she had also tried to make sense of the steps. It’s not her first attempt to make a curry, but even though she made it when she first found out about his favourite dish, she didn't understand why he got food poisoning. ‘He definitely ate something outside. There’s no other way he could have got food poisoning otherwise.’
The recipe in the notebook was very simple and the most basic one and that’s the hardest part for her to believe, for she too had tasted Bella’s curry and the taste was just too magical to be described by mere words. She looked at the only line of words which was marked as secret ingredients and her confusion just compounded. ‘A joyful mood has magic of its own.’
“Should have taken her offer to help.” Words were so simple but easier said than done. Yet she tried to take Bella's advice, imagining Bardar showering her with praise as he took the first heavenly bite. Maybe he would even ask her on a date, flashing his handsome smile. A dreamy expression crossed Cellia's face at the thought, but she soon composed herself and, seeing no one was looking, focused back on the task at hand while making sure not to lose her attention like the last time she had made it.
***
Outside Rayen’s room, the golden labra looked at the doorknob and reached out with her mouth and turned it sideways. A muted, rhythmic click resonated through the corridor as the door surrendered to her and the wooden door swung open, its ancient hinges protesting with a mellow groan. Rays of daylight streamed into the room, revealing the inviting interior bathed in a warm amber glow. Entering through the gap, Cherry tippy-towed her way towards the only inhabitant of this room, a brown-haired boy lying on the bed with a black metal ball floating above his left hand, not a bit concerned about the intruder.
As every dog says, one needs to introduce itself before they get down to sprinting, so Cherry as the faithful follower of the dog’s sayings, placed her butt on the wooden floor, brought forth her chest, lowered her ears and enlarged her eyes and finally with a swing of her tail which matches with her swaying golden fur, released a small “Woof!”
Not a deafening noise, yet sufficient for an average person to take notice. Well, an average person. Rayen was still concentrating the mana flow towards the ball and was not interested in the noises surrounding him.
“Woof!” Cherry knew this human was a little slow to start with and again released her voice but this time with more depth to it.
“…”
“Woof!”
“….”
.
.
.
“Wwoofff…!”
“…”
.
.
.
“WOOOFFF!!”
“…”
This human is stupid, Cherry concluded after thirty minutes of woofing around. Even her wet tongue got dried in the air, but this guy on the bed didn’t even blink. A great humiliation for the dog with the shiniest golden fur in the world. She had to do something quick, but what? She finally glanced at the ball in Rayen’s hands and her eyes shined with brilliance. Running her eyes around the room, she found the box Bardar carried with him and sunk her entire face into it. Finally grabbed the same ball with her mouth and brought it near the bed and placed it near Rayen’s right hand.
Under her eager look, Rayen’s eyes finally moved, shifted to his right hand and the ball near it. Cherry released a relieved breath as the second ball lifted from the bed and floated above Rayen’s right hand and decided to introduce herself again.
“Woof!”
“…”
Cherry’s head slumped onto the bed’s edge as her eyes looked at the human, who started to float two balls. ‘This piece of black ball is more interesting than my golden fur? It’s neither soft nor warm, but hard and cold.’ Putting her head away from the bed, she scratched her left ear with her legs like a baffled human thinking about his next course of action, but nothing came to her. Bella also once warned her not to jump into this human ‘otherwise…’
Cherry then brought her face close to the boy and her nose blew air into his face, but Rayen didn’t seem to notice. She then used her long tongue and licked his face, nope, still not giving her an eye.
Releasing a low growl, once again she slumped into Rayen’s bed but maybe because this time most of her body impacted the bed instead of just her head, the vibrations were much stronger than before and it made Rayen disturbed enough to knock out his control over the second ball and it rolled into bed.
Cherry, with a downcast look, made her body stand up and grabbed the ball again, trying to crush it between her jaws. How the hell is this thing more interesting than her? As the dog started releasing her frustration on the innocent metal ball by crushing it between her jaws, her eyes paused as she met with the brown eyes of the human. He seems to be gazing at her without blinking, or rather the ball in her mouth.
Another frustrated sound and Cherry got close to Rayen’s right hand like finally giving in to a demand from a child and placed the ball back into his hands, who once again suspended the black sphere in the air. ‘Wait…’
Cherry’s ears perked up and her eyes changed between the boy and the ball and decided to do something different. She grabbed the metal ball into her mouth and moved her head to the edge of the bed. Looking at the human, it fixed his brown eyes on the ball in her mouth as expected. Filled with energy, Cherry placed the ball back, and the eyes returned to hands. Grabbing the ball again, the eyes on her, placing it back, the eyes not on her, she took the ball to the edge of the room and as expected; the eyes were on her. Finally, her eyes shined with the brilliance of the dog finding the stick and after placing the ball back into Rayen’s hands, she ran off outside the room.
On the other hand, Rayen didn’t give much thought to all these things that just occurred and concentrated on the two balls. Controlling his mana to suspend two balls using the mana is not something he can do very well, and thus requires a singular mind to it.
But after some time, in the middle of his efforts to get these things right, something disturbed him again. Something snatched both metal balls from his control and so his eyes finally shifted to the culprit, a very big sphere of ash-black colour. Its size was the second biggest Rayen had seen till now. The golden orb was as big as four heads, but the orb in front of him was half of that.
But the size was not the thing Rayen cared about at all but the metal spheres that it took from him. Instead of giving them back, the ash-black orb dropped a book in front of him. Before long, the orb opened the book and pointed at the first symbol before releasing a strange sound. “Woof!”
A strange sound that made no sense to him, and so he stared. The thing he knew the best. Then the orb finally placed the metal ball back into his hands, but before long, she took it again and once again pointed at the first letter of the book with the same strange sounds. “Woof!”.
At times, even the canine companion must soil its paws. Cherry, the loyal adherent to the sacred dog code, deemed it one of those moments. She pointed her paw at the very first letter of “Woof and Woofs of Cherry'' and again did the pronunciation for the slow human to understand. But since that guy gives her a blank response every time, she took the metal ball from his hands and put her paws on the similar imprint of her legs in the book and released a muffled woof.
“…”
“grr…”
Repetition is the mother of success. What separates a good dog from a bad one is the refusal of the latter to keep jumping up till it catches the ball mid air and Cherry was not ignorant about such dog codes, which once again proved to be right as finally, finally, after more than 146 tries, the human with slowest thinking looked at the first letter of her book without her need to take the metal spheres from him.
“WOOOOOffff…!” Like a successful hunter, Cherry released a long howl with small tears. Finally, this human is following her paws, now he just needs to keep the ball rolling and so she put her paws on the second symbol and did the pronunciation for it, with hopeful eyes on the boy.
“…”
“Grr…” That guy was still looking at where the first letter was and didn’t seem to have heard her sound at all. Cherry finally decided no matter what, even if Bella ground her for another week and gave her nothing more than pickles every time-’no breakfast, only breakfasts,’ Cherry refused to be a good girl anymore and grabbed the metal ball again in her jaws, this time her teeth sunk into the metal. Putting her paw on the second symbol, she remembered again what the dog code says, ‘If the human can’t keep up with your speed, you drag him with your leash.’
***
Meanwhile, as Cherry confronted the challenges of human training with an unruly dog, Bella sat in her study room while her grandson, Bardar, looked at her with questioning eyes.
“Grandma, I heard from Cellia that you told the other elders to stop with their search.”
“That’s right, my dear. Is there something that bothers you?”
“Grandma, it is not that I don’t trust your judgement, but we can’t stop the search for Rayen’s origin.”
Bella stood up and reached the window. Looking at the garden outside before finally asking. “Why?”
“Grandma, Rayen is different.”
“I know.”
“No, Grandma, you are still underestimating him.” Bella finally looked back at him and noticed a small unease hidden in his eyes. “I don’t know if we can call it talent, but it is … scary.”
“ Bardar…”
“I have been teaching him for six days but the amount of progress he has shown is what I cannot even achieve in 6 years and that is only if I just shut myself in to train and nothing else. Mere genius isn't sufficient to capture the essence of his character. I don’t know how, but as long as I can show him, he can do it the next day.”
“...”
“Each of his tiny movements is precise to the point like he has been practising over the long years. It's not possible to achieve that by just talent alone. And this is when most of his body is sealed by the crystal. We need to find out his origin!”
“ Bardar.” Bella finally stopped his relentless words and, with her wrinkled hands, pulled the drawer and handed him an already opened letter. Seeing it like this, Bardar took it from her hand and read with furrowed brows.
We are done with the initial searching in and out of the surrounding areas of the Alliance; the results were negative as far as human territory is concerned. The next phase of the search was going to take some time, but we are preparing our personnel for penetrations into territories of other species.
“Do you know what this report from years long search doesn’t say?” Seeing Bardar done reading the content, Bardar said in a calm voice as she stood from her seat and came to the window with her back facing her grandchild. “Numbers, my child. Painted in pure red, which cannot act as an ink for this letter.”
“…are there any casualties?”
“Five towns with heavy casualties and dozens of smaller villages just vanished as those old guys tried to dig into anything not in their visible sight. And that’s when they went with maximum force, even in small areas. To go beyond human territory, the best way is to negotiate, but you know those races. The next best is sending spies or small groups of mercenaries. Many would be just marching on their deaths as they tried to enter the forbidden areas of other species.”
“…”
“I am getting old, Bardar. The Sands of Thar is screaming in my ears and I don’t have the energy to divert the attention to another continent like I used to do.”
Bardar opened and closed his mouth multiple times, but couldn't force any words out from his dry throat. Seeing the weak shoulders of his grandmother, he struggled to overlap her outlines with the figure who always used to stand tall despite the odds stacked against her.
“I promised you after all, when you take over Thar, you would not need to spill any blood. I will just focus on that for now.”
Why were their lives changed like this? This is the question he always asked himself. Things were moving so well, like dreams coming true. Instead, it became a nightmare. Now, the pot was boiling again, like another storm in the making, but Bardar was more worried about Bella. Last time, she was there to control the fallout, but he couldn’t just see her take the burden anymore.
“Grandma, I think I will go to Oasis.”
***