Ben gripped the haft of the plain spear, knuckles white, as he watched the Guardsman slowly approach with manacles in his hands. His eye twitched, and his face grew hot.

They’re all so… weak.

His eyes darted to observe and assess the threat the shop’s occupants posed. Ben felt their meager auras flicker in his mind’s eye. All, excluding the Inquisitor, were insignificant to his senses, and he felt disgust pool in the pit of his stomach.

I can probably drop two of them before the third even draws his sword.

Ben shook his head in a vain attempt to empty his thoughts of violence. A warm breath caressed his neck, and he felt the claws of his Avatar dig into his right shoulder. He stared at the Inquisitor, causing him to flinch nearly imperceptibly and place a hand on a golden rapier on his hip.

“Inquisitor,” Jor said.

Her interruption did nothing to still the bloodlust roiling inside the young man. The Guardsman, as if he suddenly sensed a predator in their midst, froze with wide eyes. The Archer cleared her throat and continued.

“Your orders were to identify and escort the anomaly to the embassy. Use of force was only to be employed if you encountered resistance.” She looked at Ben with pleading eyes. “You’re not resisting, are you?”

Anomaly? Did she instigate this?

The young man met the Squad Leader’s gaze with eyes drawn thin. He took a deep breath and glanced at Ann with raised brows. The Keeper’s face was devoid of any emotion as she dipped her head. Ben instinctively reached through their connection with a question, to which Ann replied with an intent that spoke of biding his time.

“I’m not resisting,” he said to the Inquisitor, gaze fixed on Jor.

“As you can see, Inquisitor, he’s willing and cooperative.” She turned to the frozen Guardsman with the manacles. “You won’t be needing those.”

The man jolted at the address and retreated a step backward as he exhaled a slow breath, relief in his eyes. Ben faced Jor, his expression devoid of humor.

“There better be a good reason for this,” he said, tone even.

“Again, I’m sorry, Ben. I had no choice,” she said in a soft murmur, eyes not meeting his.

Ben considered the raven-haired woman for two heartbeats.

“You always have a choice,” said Ann, tone cold. “Pray that you don’t live to regret it.”

The Archer’s eyes fell to the floor, and Edas Crell, the Inquisitor, cleared his throat. The trio turned to face the short man.

“Very well. Surrender your weapon so that we may be on our way,” he said in a drawl that sounded forced.

The young man leaned the spear against a nearby shelf, and at the entrance, Guardsmen stepped aside to allow him to exit the store. Before Ben could cross the threshold of the door, he felt Ann’s frigid Aura pulse. He turned to see what had caused the act of aggression and found that two Guards stood, visibly trembling, barring her from following him.

“Ah, the Keeper. Yes.” The Inquisitor sniffed. “I was told to expect that you’d offer some form of resistance to the… escorting of your pet. It’s terribly difficult to identify fanatics if they’re not in their awfully gaudy garb.”

Ben noticed that the man was unaffected by the oppressive Aura that had grown to a buffeting tempest. The Guardsmen fell to their knees, and Jor stumbled back to the counter, face pale with a sheen of cold sweat. Edas paced casually up and down the open area of the cluttered shop, a hand on his chin as if he was deep in thought.

“I go where he goes,” Ann said, voice calm. A stark contrast to the malicious intent she exuded. She ignored the short man’s insults.

“Keeper… please, don’t antagonize him… Ben will be unharmed, trust me,” Jor pleaded in a clipped voice, laced with fear.

“You forfeited any trust you had when you betrayed him! I won’t leave him to the snakes,” Ann spat at the Archer, who recoiled at the outburst.

“That’s quite enough,” the Inquisitor said lazily as he approached the distressed Keeper.

The short man took two steps and stood about three paces in front of Ann before his hand lightly clasped the handle of his rapier.

No.

“Overwhelm.”

Ben moved without thinking. He crossed the distance in less than a heartbeat and grabbed the Inquisitor’s armored wrist that had begun to unsheathe the golden weapon. He squeezed and felt the inhuman strength of the concept burn through his veins and fuel his grip. The short man’s mouth fell open, and his eyes widened as he beheld the tall young man. The polished steel bracer crumpled as if it were paper. The rapier slid back into its sheath with a click. Bloody flesh oozed out of the gaps in the steel as if it were paste being expelled from holes in a meat grinder.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

The Inquisitor’s legs gave out from underneath him as he let out a chilling, high-pitched scream. Ben held the man aloft by his wrist. He felt a growl resonate deep within his being, and he squeezed until his grip tightened into a fist. Nothing was left of the Inquisitor’s wrist, but a hand hanging limply at the end of a thin strand of sinew sheathed in crushed steel. He released his grip, and the man fell with a thud to the dusty floor.

The room went silent but for the weakening moans of the short man, bleeding profusely as he curled up in a ball. The Guards slowly ambled to their feet and looked on in horror at the rapidly expanding pool of blood on the floor.

“It seems that Inquisitor Crell, had an unfortunate accident,” Jor said, addressing the men. Her composure had not quite returned as her body trembled, and her lips quivered as she spoke. “Isn’t that right, gentlemen?”

The whirlpool of emotions began to abate within Ben, and he surveyed the scene, shocked at the strength and speed his Avatar allowed him. He looked to Ann and saw the Keeper smile with soft eyes, her Aura receded, and the Guardsmen recovered from their frozen states of terror.

“Yes, ma’am,” said the lantern bearer, who held the light with a shaky grip. “Unfortunate thing. Hand caught in a slamming door and all. Poor man.”

The Guardsman looked at his colleagues with a deliberate stare and received nods and grunts in acknowledgment at the implied corroboration.

“Good,” Jor let out a shivering breath and faced Ben and the Keeper. “This will be trouble later. The Inquisitors are the eyes and ears of the Council of Blades.” She paused to look at the short man whose face grew pale from blood loss. “I know you think I don’t deserve your trust, but it’s either you go and deal with this or be hunted down.”

“What is this all about, Jor?” Ben asked, exasperated.

“There’s a reason why Eric Vasylius was at the outpost near the Fringe. He and his entourage were there to investigate the reports of corpses of your people floating in with the tide.” She wiped the cold sweat from her brow. “Before the occurrence, there have been no records of… fresh bodies of Old Worlders, only the mummified remains in ruins and tombs. With the Tear’s expansion and now the mass migration…” Jor trailed off as she observed her audience.

“We dinna hear nothin’ Squad Leader,” said the man with the clinking manacles in his hands.

The Archer nodded at the man before turning back to Ben. “I’ve said enough. Walls tend to be thin and flies on the wall listen closer than you might think. Shall we?” she gestured with an open palm to the door, head tilted and big green eyes pleading.

“Ann?” Ben asked the Keeper.

The blonde-haired woman met the young man’s gaze and nodded.

“Then let’s go. I want to know why you did this and what your people want with me,” Ben said.

Immediately, he felt his legs grow weak and his arms heavy. He endeavored to maintain an impassive face as the varying expressions of fear and apprehension the Guardsmen displayed toward him kept them at a distance. He collected the plain spear from the shelf and walked out the door to the brisk morning air of a sleeping city. Although he had felt well rested and his hangover cured, the remnants of the essence that seared through his veins earlier were the only things keeping him on his feet. He felt lethargic as if he had walked for a day without rest. Panic began to flush out the fading concept from his body in waves, and he turned to see two Guardsmen behind Ann, who had followed him out of the store, flinch as his eyes glanced in their direction.

He looked at the Keeper and willed his thoughts of concern to her through their bond. Ann looked at him with curious blue eyes. She tilted her head questioningly.

Of course. It’s not telepathy, you idiot.

Ben chided himself.

Jor and the remaining Guardsman joined the group outside in the street, and the Archer’s furrowed brow suggested to Ben that she sensed something was wrong. The young man’s anger at the betrayal of the Squad Leader had left him confused, and he was yet to process the events prior. Jor’s thoughtful expression changed to an impassive one as she met his gaze. He ignored the dip of the raven-haired woman’s head and gestured for Ann to walk beside him as they were led down a street by two of the Guardsmen.

“Do you know what’s happening to me right now?” he asked in a whisper in an attempt to keep their conversation from the prying ears of their escort.

The Keeper didn’t turn to face Ben as she spoke in a similar, hushed voice. “Ainsle would be the best person to explain it to you, I think,” she turned as if to look at a nondescript storefront. “I don’t sense any pain. Is it fatigue?”

“Yeah. I feel like I have rocks in my arms.”

“Then it is as I suspected. It’s the toll for drawing from your Avatar.” She met Ben’s eyes while maintaining a steady stride through the city’s streets. “Yours is powerful. Old, if what the Red Maiden says is true.”

If it’s so powerful, why are the side effects so severe? Jor seemed fine after using ‘Repulse,’ but I’ll have to end a fight during the time the concept is in effect, or else I’m screwed.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered.

“It’ll pass, I think. From what I can sense from your aura, you seem to be regaining some vitality. Do you feel it?”

As if the words spoken were willed into existence, Ben did indeed start to feel his strength return. Slowly, he began to have to rely less on posturing to hide his weakness, as his body became more responsive and less sluggish.

“Yeah… You’re right,” he paused as their escorts stopped to let a young boy pull a cart filled with unknown produce across their path. The group continued their walk. “So, I’ll suffer this… you know, for a while, after using it?”

“I believe so, my heart. But, I should add that if you align closer with the ideal of your Avatar, then the concepts should exact a lesser fee for their use.”

“I got it,” he said as he considered her words.

So, I have to… align with it?

The young man thought back to the intent the entity conveyed to him.

“Subjugate, Conquer, Dominate,” he muttered to himself.

The Keeper looked at him with her head tilted, eyes scanning his face.

“We’re here,” said one of the lead Guardsmen.

“Thank you, gentlemen. I will take it from here,” Jor said from behind Ann and Ben. “Please make sure Inquisitor Crell gets to the temple. And make sure the High Priest treats him.”

“Yes, ma’am,” came the affirmations from the Guardsmen who left to carry out the Squad Leader’s orders.

The trio stood in front of a tall, several stories high building, painted white with elaborate facades and sculptures decorating the exterior. Several banners of wildly different colors hung from long flag posts jutting out diagonally from behind a low perimeter wall. Ben observed the craftsmanship and thought the reliefs and depictions of battle were masterfully done, if a bit garish. Jor led the pair to a set of massive, carved doors with similar carvings and turned to face them.

“Before we go in, I have a few things to say,” Jor held up her hand to stop any protest from the Keeper. “Ben, I know- well, I didn’t know, but now I do,” she hesitated, “that you’re stronger now than the first time the two of you met. But I’ll ask. No. I’ll beg that you don’t try to oppose him. He has had years to hone his martial abilities, and he has been a Wielder for half as much time.”

“Get to the point,” Ben snapped. He was taken aback by his impulsive outburst, though his expression didn’t waver.

“Right. I deserve that,” she paused. “Just hear what he has to say, then make your decision after the fact. Don’t throw your lives away for the sake of Pride or whatever it is that you have.”

She thinks my Avatar is Pride? Hm.

“Who are we meeting?” Ben asked.

Jor pushed open the heavy doors that made no sound at all.

“Councilor Vasylius.”