Chieftain Varalkas coughed again. He shut his eyes and hit his chest with a clenched fist, then reclined forward in his seat and coughed again, and again, as a dull pain filled his chest.

The eunuch behind him offered him a vase with medicine. He took it with one hand and swallowed a mouthful. The beverage was bitter and pungent, with only a slight touch of honey to mitigate its bitterness.

He looked forward again.

“I am sorry,” he said with difficulty, and sat up straight on his silver stool. The members of the council were all cross-legged before him.

Master Ghabas raised his hand to speak; the chief wearily raised his hand to signal him to speak.

“My chieftain,” Ghabas lowered his green eyes. “Thank you for letting me speak, once again, in favor of our people. As I have said before, these Adachians who come here are a nuisance. They must not be allowed here for long. They put us in danger.”

“I protest,” one of the women raised her hand. “We have a commitment to our relatives and friends. They are even of our own kin, and even if they were not, we should welcome them and be fair.”

“Is it wise to let other people in when your own people are struggling?” Ghabas said.

“We still have enough to feed them, and they may even join our workforce,” she said. “The young mute boy is a woodcutter and knows a bit about planting.”

“We don’t need more plants in here, they destroy the soil for our cattle,” said another rugged woman.

“But that is not all,” Ghabas looked forward, toward the chieftain. “They keep poisoning our youth! One of our fellow men told me how his son mocked him for not joining that girl into battle, the boy called his own father a coward and derided you, my beloved chieftain.”

Varalkas coughed again.

“I am sorry,” the chieftain said, blinking again. To hear such a story was unfortunate, but he was sure it was a minor incident. Children those days were rebellious and wild, but the times were dire, and they did not really hurt anyone. That persistent cough, however, was starting to worry him.

“Believe me, my chieftain,” Ghabas continued. “It’s a calculated strategy. They know our people are weak and want to manipulate our weakness and vulnerability. And...once again, we have heard that insidious conspiracy being spread from mouth to mouth.”

Some of the counselors looked at each other.

“Yes, that dangerous thought that can lead us into great trouble,” Ghabas went on.

“That is worrisome,” Varalkas scratched his beard. He knew precisely what he meant by conspiracy. Last time that rumor had spread, it was discussed openly by their paid border guards. It caused many Gadalian youths to get into trouble with the Itruschian authorities at the border.

“So, in view of all this, I would like to propose just a small modification of the current law. For our land, for peace.”

“What do you propose?” Varalkas asked, clearing his throat again.”To forbid speaking ill of the Empire and isolate the Adachian fugitives. Arrest them and keep them in one place, no mobility, no contact with our youth.”

***

Six days had passed since Alana’s departure, and Kassius had been closer to the gods than he’d ever been. Every day he studied with the Priest of Jupiter, who would instruct him in the ways of magic and divination.

“I had never realized that,” Kassius said, his legs crossed, a square piece of hemp paper in front of him where the priest and he had drawn a magic circle.

“I could have just told you,” the priest muttered with a sly smile.

Kassius cleared his throat and placed his hands over it. He had drawn sigils for years, trusting in their power, but they sometimes failed. He believed in them, he believed in the magic that made the world and carved magical weapons incapable of being broken, he believed in the magic that defended armies and defeated magical beasts, but he knew not what the greatest secret was, the secret to making all magic effective.

It was so simple, it had been in the back of his mind forever.

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“The laws of the universe are fixed,” the Elder said. “Many are the laws, but among them, the greatest is the law of mass. Nothing can be taken from nothing. No flesh, no earth, no power. The earth and sky sprung from an ether, they were shaped out of their initial chaos. Thus, it is also with power. A sigil is just a way to conjure the energies of the universe, its power, its magics, but to give them power, to access that power, you must give something equal to that which you desire.”

That concept sat in Kassius’ mind.

“Part of it is belief,” the priest muttered. “But belief alone won’t take you anywhere. Will is the gift the gods have given us. Power to act, and action is what brings the magic. Sacrifice, struggle.”

Kassius nodded.

“It was not just the belief that the Sword would be found. The Sword of the gods came not by chance, not by belief, but by your will and action. That of you and of your wife.”

“Indeed,” Kassius said.

“And so, that is the power of magic. The word, coming from the Ancient East, is related to the word might. That has been taught to me by the Magy of Parzia, the mighty. And it relates to anything you want to achieve. Your will must be unfettered. Your belief must be impregnable, and your action must be precise.”

“So it will be,” Kassius nodded.

“Now, raise your hands to the positions of power and receive their light.”

Kassius took a deep breath and lifted both arms in front of him. One, he placed above; the other, palm down. Then, he recited the magical formula.

“Oh, great stars above.” His eyes faced forward. Around him, two young priests in golden robes chanted. Their sound reverberated, hemp smoke filled the yurt.”The second law, as above, so below,” declared the priest. To Kassius, those words were related to astrology, and he only had a superficial knowledge of such art. He knew he had to be aligned with the will of the gods and stars above to manifest his purposes. And by then, his purpose was clear; he had to become a master of magic to defeat both the Empire and the giants.

“Gods of the sky, grant me visions!” he cried, and then, it happened. His vision opened, and he felt as if being shot from a crossbow straight up into the sky, as if ejected from the world and cast into a world of shapes and dreams. Even the throat singing that had filled the room became too faint to be heard. Instead, a magnificent stillness whirled around him. Images passed through his mind: of people suffering, of giant monster-men roaming the earth, but above all, of the earth extending like a tree—its roots sinking down to the depths of the mountains, and its branches reaching up. He gathered his consciousness and begged, “How to defeat the Empire?”

And the images raged inside him.

He saw fire.

He felt shackles around his neck. He opened his eyes; he was once again in Adachia. He saw death, burnt yurts, dead men and women. His friends imprisoned, Alana delivered to their torturers. He saw giants, an army of them roaming the woods, marching through villages with flaming roofs. Women hiding their children, men being stomped by ants. He saw the emblem of that ancient sect, he saw the dragon emblem burnt to the ground once again.

He saw the entire world bowing down to an idol of gold and emerald, in a vast desert of snow and ice. He saw great cities turning to ruins, with their once glorious inhabitants begging for scraps.

Death. Alana, his wife and the pride of his existence, surrounded by cruel executors in strange, unearthly clothes. Her teeth clenched in agony, in death.

And he screamed. His body collapsed forward, his legs trembled, his neck staggered, and he panted like a hanged man. His fists clenched as he staggered to his knees, cold sweat drenching his skin. The throat singing had ceased, and the Priest of Jupiter was pale in front of him.

“I . . .” Kassius said, breathing heavily, his hands shaking.

“What did you see?” The Elder asked.

"I . . .."

“I saw . . . Hades . . .” His breath grew even more desperate. He tried to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “Please, that cannot be true. That cannot.”

The Elder took a deep breath.

“I had seen it many days ago. It was hard for me to take it in.”

“But . . . But . . .”

“Kassius, stand up and walk with me outside.”

Kassius shook his head.

“Come on,” the priest straightened his body and pulled Kassius by the arm. He sprung up and leaned forward, feeling he was about to fall.”

“Why . . .” he said, unable to articulate. “Why . . .”

“It all came to you too quickly. All at once.”

“But you knew!” Kassius growled. “How . . . How come you knew all about it and did not tell me . . .?””Because I have seen both sides, I have mourned for days, but I trust.”

“That is foolish. I do not want my life to end! I do not want to lose my friends. I do not want to lose her. And the world... The world will burn.”

The priest took a deep breath.

“Who says you will lose?”

“We will all die! We will all be captured, tortured. We will fall into their hands.”

“And who says you will lose?”

Kassius panted.

The priest went on.

“You may even win in death. I have seen it. It is not fate, but struggle. No matter the pain, no matter the struggle, right will triumph in the end, but only if it does not give up.”

“You sound like an Itruschian soldier.”

“Fight, keep fighting, keep your sword raised.”

“Is there... Is there a chance that it will not happen that way?”

“Maybe.”

Kassius tensed his fists, the veins in his forearms pumped and blue.

“I must, I must not let it happen.”

“Come with me,” the priest wrapped an arm around him and helped him straighten up. The two other apprentices stood up, and he helped him walk outside. There, out of the tent, a field of stars covered them from above. “Here,” the priest said, pointing upward, toward the constellation of the Hero, the three stars of his belt shining bright, sword in his right hand, shield in the other. “Look up at the hero.”

Kassius took a deep breath, as if oblivious to the story unfolding before him. “There, look at his sword. Venus is passing through its orbit, and so is Mars.”

“What?”

“This is why I believe in the Sword of Ares.”

“What are you talking about?”

“In a few years, both Mars and Venus will align one after the other, meeting exactly at the hilt of his sword. Then, the Hero will be face to face with the Beast.”