A single breath.
It was all Musa had as he pushed his way through the place between worlds.
Shade Step? Pondered the boy. What a terrible name. Musa did not know who came up with that designation for the Fourth Kanzian Art, but he did not care for it. It’s a fallacy, he thought.
For anyone who was not a Kane champion, the Shade Step was the most fabled and mysterious power of a Sacer. To these uninitiated, it was the magical ability to teleport from one location to another. The name even seemed to describe how it worked. A person would simply step into the Shade from one place and then exit into another. However, this was not the case. The Shade Step was neither entering the Shade nor a single step.
Like wading through a pool of invisible quicksand, Musa sludged his way toward his injured companions. For convenience’s sake, they referred to this place as the Shade, but Musa knew better. This was the Veil. It was the gulf between the Shade and the Aima.
I don’t belong here, Thought Musa. Nothing belongs here. Regardless of how often the boy had visited the Veil, it always seemed wrong. Perhaps it was because time and sound did not exist here, or maybe because all matter was one phase denser.
Musa remembered his master’s words. “In the Veil, the air is like water. You can’t breathe it, and you’ll have to push your way through it. Water is like stone. You’ll be able to walk on it but not drink it. And anything solid is permanent; you can’t manipulate it. So, don’t even try. Besides, with only one breath, you will not have time. Just get in and get out.”
A single breath.
Musa’s lungs began to burn, but he pushed on, one painful step after another. Behind him, he knew the Sacer was suspended in time, his kado frozen mid-strike. He would stay that way until Musa exited the Veil. And that was something he had to do soon. The air pressure around him bore down like an ocean of water. If it were not for the strength aided to him by Shade Touch, the weight would have crushed him the moment he entered this forbidden place.
People died here, so Musa had been told. Sacers who rushed their training would attempt to Shade Step, enter the Veil, and never return. Or sometimes a warrior who was over confidant would linger too long… The outcome was the same—suffocation and oblivion. People did not just die in the Veil; they vanished.
Though, in general, the stronger the Sacer was, the longer they could dwell in the Veil and the further they could travel. Forty feet was Musa’s limit, and Caleb and Saul rested just inside that range.
“J-J-Just… a-a-a… f-f-few… m-m-more… s-s-steps.” Musa forced the words out of his mouth but could not hear them. The Veil absorbed all sound and converted it into threads of color-shifting light. These threads wisped into the air and flowed like tributaries into more significant streams, which then branched into even grander rivers of vibrant energy. All of which traveled in the same direction before abruptly ending in obscurity. Again, Musa knew where these vivid paths of power departed. They seeped through the Tear and into the Aima—the human world. There it was known as Vigor.
At last, Musa planted his final step near his friends and tilted his head toward the two stationary figures. The monochromatic world surrounding the blind boy should have been lost on him, but it was not. The awe-inspiriting splashes of color-shifting lights should have been irrelevant to his sightless eyes, but they were not. Because here, among the torture of unbearable crushing pressure, burning lungs by unbreathable air, and fear of pending death, his broken eyes worked. Here, for reasons he did not know, Musa could see.
Sweat and tears ran down the boy’s pale face as he gazed at his companions. Musa was at his limits and knew he had to exit soon, but even through the pain and agony, he did not want to leave this place. The Veil was a black-and-white reflection of the physical world, frozen in time. The only color was the radiant currents of energy that coursed through the air as far as the eye could see, and to the blind boy, it was sublime!
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Musa took one last look at that flaming sky above and exhaled a painful sigh.
A single breath.
Blackness covered his eyes, and sounds of life filled his ears.
Shade Step.
*******
With killing intent, Zachariah struck out at the boy’s back! The Vigor-infused kado cut as if it was a live blade. The General bet everything on this one strike. If he were right, a miracle would occur, and this mysterious anomaly of a child would do the impossible and slip into the Veil. If he was wrong… Well, he would have much explaining to do. Murdering an applicant was, after all, frowned upon.
Committed to the deed, Zachariah’s sword descended!
He felt it—the unnatural tearing between worlds. The hairs on his neck stood up.
The General’s kado cut clean through the space Musa had been, and before Zachariah could register the boy’s disappearance, the white-clad figure reappeared across the field by his fallen friends!
“WONDERFUL!” a feverish intensity filled the General. The surrounding Vigor shifted and bent in response to his excitement. “Gabe! Are you watching this?” Zachariah whispered into the Shade. There was no reply. “Captain, this is not the time for games. If you’re not watching, then I suggest you do.”
A voice whispered back. But it was not Gabriel’s.
“General,” the voice said. “The Captain is watching the trial with me.” Even through the distortion of Shade Speech, Zachariah knew who was speaking. The tone and tenor were soft yet sturdy, calm yet immeasurably dangerous. It was the voice of the only man alive that could terrify even General Zachariah Abel, the Champion of Thyella, the direct disciple of Isaac the Great.
“Overseer,” the General said reverently. “I was unaware that you were monitoring my selection.”
“Oh? And why would that surprise you? I am the Overseer, after all. It’s literally in my title.” Laughter and other verbal noise did not translate well through Shade Speech, but regardless, Zachariah knew his superior was snickering. “My boy, how could I not watch when I heard that three candidates had arrived from my homeworld? It is rare to have even a single applicant from Tri-star, never mind, three!”
“So…” Zachariah never took his eyes off the hooded boy. As soon as Musa emerged from the Veil, he kneeled and examined his incapacitated friends. “Sir, you watched the entire bout?”
“Yes,” said Enoch. “The Captain and I have immensely enjoyed your little show. Dramatic at times, but I must say, it’s been… enlightening. Though, we were modestly disappointed in your performance, General.” Zachariah refrained from rolling his eyes. He knew the aerial cameras were watching and recording the entire Trial Grounds, which included his every action. This rarely bothered him. But then again, the Overseer seldom directly observed from behind one of those cameras. Just knowing that Enoch was monitoring him was enough to make the gray-haired general self-conscience.
“It took you long enough to establish that the boy had Shade Stepped. From our vantage point, it was obvious when he first blocked your kado.” Still, the General did not react; he refused to give his old friend the satisfaction. Instead, Zachariah asked a single question.
“So, Sir, what would you have me do?”
There was a pause. Zachariah knew the Overseer was weighing his decision carefully.
Finally, the answer came low, solemn, but definite.
“Push him,” replied Enoch. “Barring only your kidokane, I remove all other restrictions.
The surprise nearly cracked the General’s indifferent facade.
“Sir, are you sure that is what you want? You know what I can do even without my kidokane. I mean, it’s entirely possible I could damage the palace or, at the very least, do some much-needed landscaping.” Zachariah smiled.
“Landscaping we can handle, General,” came the reply. “But if you touch my palace, I’ll see you spend the next hundred years washing pots in the mess hall.”
“Aw, come on, Enoch, if you banish me to the kitchen, then who will win this war for you?” Knowing exactly where the drone was flying above him, Zachariah looked straight into the aerial camera and winked at his superior. There was no reply from the Shade…
“Find,” the General conceded. “Consider the palace safe, but what about the boy?” The graying warrior’s sudden shift in tone compelled a response.
“We need to know more,” said Enoch through the Shade. “His existence is unsettling but promising. We need to see what other secrets we can ascertain from him. Zachariah, we need you to find his limits, but… do not kill him.”
“Seriously?” the General said with a half-cocked eyebrow. “You remove my restrictions, but then give me limitations. Where’s the fun in that?”
“Where’s the fun in washing dishes for the next century?”
Zachariah shrugged his shoulders in mock consideration.
“So be it,” he said. “But I would advise you to clear the area of all liabilities quickly.”
“Already done, General,” replied Enoch. “Just remember, keep the boy alive… and Zachariah, don’t touch the palace.”