Author's Notes:

Here's chapter 2 of the story. I have the draft for chapter 3 ready. I may put it out. Not sure yet. Hope you enjoy. Criticism welcomed!

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Johan woke up in the early morning to warm pink skies and the cooing of birds. He stretched his sluggish body and did a few push-ups to get his blood pumping. After he finished, he sat back down and watched the sun rise with half-lidded eyes. His body was completely still and his mind entered a state of tranquility. He could feel the wind essence hug his body, embracing him like a lover.

He heard a name spoken, in a language he's not familiar with. Though the language was strange, he felt a certain intimacy with the name; it felt like he remembered something he had forgotten long ago. However, hearing the sourceless voice set off the alarms in his head; he shot up and looked around in a frenzy. There was no one around him; the morning was still young and the streets were hardly filled.

Thinking nothing of it, he climbed down the side of the building. He walked down a narrow path and reached a large building, that had a sign upfront that read "Fallon's Orphanage". It was a clean, white building that was probably the healthiest building in the Lower City. Warm orange clay tiles lined the roof like an animal's scales. The wind seemed to slowdown at the house, leaving a gentle huffing sound in it's wake and carrying with it a sweet nectarine smell.

He sighed and entered the building. It was quiet; everyone was most likely in their room. He headed up stairs and found Darin sleeping in a bunk bed by himself. Johan kicks the bed.

"W—what're ya—" Darin said while flailing his arms in self-defense.

"Let's go," Johan said.

Darin mumbled several obscenities and pulled on some clothes. Johan walked over to the door frame and leaned against it, taking a long look at the entire room. Kids from age 10 to 18 were stuffed in the room on bunk beds. Some shared beds, placed side-by-side like sardines in a can. Though they each arrived at the orphanage in their own way, the one thing they all had in common were their gaunt features.

Johan and Darin left the orphanage and started walking towards the Forum. Merchants and peddlers were scurrying out of houses, lugging a fleshy bag of items to sell. Several youth can be seen dashing down the path towards Academy Trial House, likely trying to secure a good place in line before the doors officially opened.

"Amazing how fast these kids move," Johan said.

"I'd move like that too if I learned cultivation when they did," he said.

"The past is the past, no need to be bitter about it," he said and then chuckled.

They arrived at the Forum. There were large pristine buildings that lined the path, stopping just before the stone stairs that led to the Upper City. Countless merchants set up their stands in front of these buildings, laying out all of their merchandise and calling out to passerbys. The Academy Trial House was to the right of the stone stairs, and it was a fairly small, unimpressive building. However, the line in front of the building was anything but small; it winded down the dirt path and snaked through the nearby merchants and their stands. The students were animatedly talking amongst themselves and giving each other tips. Johan clenched his fist and turned his back to them.

"Find a safer mark this time," Darin called out to him. "Same meeting place as last time!"

Johan waved his hand in recognition and walked off. The main crowd hasn't arrived yet, so he felt it was a little too soon to begin his work. He sat down at a nearby fountain; it was a large structure with the statue of an angel in the center that jutted water. The angel had an hour glass body that was adorned with small wings on her back. Her ears were pointed and her features slender, which spoke of her Elven heritage. He sat with his back to the statue and watched the line of students preparing to take the Academy Trial; A hard, feral look started to settle on his face.

Those lucky brats never had to starve a day in their life...

Nearby, a young Elven man entered the Forum and saw the coiling line. He sighed heavily and looked around the area. His eyes fell upon Johan sitting at the fountain. He smirked and swaggered over.

"Hey, what're you looking at, boy?" he called over to Johan.

Johan snapped out of his brooding and stared at the youth in front of him. The youth had swirling locks of chestnut brown hair. His ocean-blue eyes squinted and seemed filled with spite. He sported a slender body and had flawless, glowing skin. The chic, tight fitting clothes he wore were probably worth more than Johan can steal in a month. He had an emblem on his chest that represented the wealthy family he came from. Johan sighed, got up, then started to walk away.

"I didn't say you could leave, boy."

Johan sighed even heavier this time and turned around to face him. The nearby students, merchants, and peddlers all turned around and focused on Johan and the Elven kid in front of him. A couple of kids in line could be heard laughing.

"Problem?" Johan asks.

"What're you doing here?"

"Going for a stroll."

"Going for a stroll through the Forum? Looking like that?" the youth pointedly stared at Johan. Johan was half a foot taller than the youth in front of him, putting him at six feet tall. He had caramel-brown skin under the tattered beige rags that he wore, a military hair cut, and a square, hard jaw. Numerous scars could be seen on his forearms which were mementos of his struggle. Stifled laughter came from the onlookers.

"Is that illegal?"

"You have a smart mouth for a titan peasant," the kid said through his teeth. "You see, I think you're out here to steal."

"No, I'm—"

"Don't defend yourself. Just apologize."

Johan stood there staring hard at the noble. People around him already went back to their business, likely writing this off as an everyday event.

"I didn't take anything," he finally said.

"If I say you're a thief then you're a thief!" the youth said. "You have no right to question me, now apologize!"

"Screw you," he snarled.

The youth rocked back as if slapped. People around him began to laugh again, causing the youth to flush. He whipped his head back to Johan and gave him a savage look.

"The penalty for stealing is losing your fingers," the youth said, balling his fist.

Johan began to inch around the fountain, trying to place an obstacle between him and the elven youth. Here we go again...

"Don't be a coward. Take it like a man and I'll—"

Johan spun around and sprinted down the dirt path towards the Lower City. He flew down the slope, his heart thumping harder than what felt healthy. There was a flock of people headed his way carrying their goods. He weaved through them with hasty precision. One man unfortunately couldn't be avoided so Johan bent down at the waist while running and rammed his shoulder into his chest, sending the man sprawling to the floor. He glanced over his shoulder and swore; he saw the youth leisurely running towards him, keeping pace with apparent ease.

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Of course... he knows how to cultivate...

When the youth saw his reaction, he began to laugh merrily and upped his pace. He was less than 10 feet away now, and rapidly gaining ground. Johan cut to the left and bounded into a nearby alley. He narrowly avoided a tree that seemingly just sprang into existence, and by some miracle managed to maintain his balance. He winded through the maze-like alleys in an attempt to bide his time, but the youth was still hot on his trail.

He lunged out of the alley and took off down the main path again. Sinclair river was in sight, but it was a straight run and there was still considerable distance to travel. Johan glanced over his shoulder and the youth was closing in with startling speed. He had no chance to outrun him on a straight path.

Johan's breath became labored and he started to panic. His eyes darted around frantically looking for a way out. People only watched with vague interest, making sure to stay out of his way and not showing any sign of wanting to help. He swallowed hard and then forcefully suppressed his fright. His mind became as still as a calm lake and his body began to move by instinct. He became fully aware of his surroundings; The wooden beams that formed the base for a house under construction across the street, the alley cats that scurried along the side of the path, the smell of oranges that were being sold from a cart to his left, the crackling energy that was emitted by the youth that was nearly at his back, and, most importantly, the cool embrace of the wind that welcomed him. Then a foreign voice reverberated in his head again; telling him a name.

Out of reflex, Johan spoke the name and suddenly the wind around him became aroused. The wind supported him and gently pushed on his back which gave him a significant boost in speed. The youth behind him dropped his jaw and almost tripped over his own feet. He began to yell towards Johan, but Johan was too focused and desperate to hear a thing. Johan arrived at Sinclair river and leapt in without reservation. He swam to the other side and then continued sprinting. He glanced behind him and saw the youth staring at him, his face red and his brow furrowed.

Johan kept on running, fearing the youth may change his mind and decide to give chase again. He ran as far as the border, then nearly collapsed by Scholar's Gate at the border of the village. Two men guarded the gates, not wasting a glance on Johan. The two brawny men stood at least six feet tall. They had powerful, round shoulders that stood above their barrel chest and rippling six pack. Their muscles looked as if they were made of iron. The gleaming iron arm guards that they both wore were covered with deep scratches and what looked suspiciously like dried blood. Johan marveled at their apparent strength but was too tired. He felt his chest burning, his brow was beaded with sweat, and his head hurt.

Several hours passed while Johan sat by the gate. He was still shaking from the ordeal, and his mind was full of questions. The beaming golden sun was hanging directly overhead, steadily making its way west. Johan stood up and went to Safe Place. He didn't want to risk going back to the Forum and running into that youth again. He stole an apple on his way to sate his hunger.

At Safe Place, Johan sat cross legged and tried to calm his thoughts. His mind was a jumbled mess of fear, confusion, and anxiety. He took several deep breaths and sat still in silence for about an hour. He opened his eyes and felt refreshed, as if an enormous weight was lifted off of his chest, though he still felt a bit confused.

He decided to speak the name again, and the wind was aroused once more. It gathered in front of him, creating a small whirlwind that scattered dust and debris around. Johan's eyes widened. He began to whip the wind back and forth, testing his limits. He tried to lift himself but it proved to be too difficult.

All of a sudden, drowsiness overcame him and a splitting headache wracked his brain, making him pass out.

"Johan, wake up," a nearby voice said.

Johan opened his eyes and saw Darin peering at him. The sun was no where to be found now and the sky was painted a deep purple-black with white stars littered throughout like little snowflakes. The moon hung high overhead as a glimmering alloy-silver orb, sending tendrils of moonlight lofting through the night sky. Johan let out a groan; his headache faded but the fatigue was still there.

"Hey, how'd you make out?" Johan asked.

"You know... you wouldn't wake up. What happened?"

"I got chased around by a noble this time," Johan said. "Little bastard was quick on his feet. Almost caught me. He quit chasing me after I jumped in the river though."

"A noble... how'd you outrun a noble? He couldn't cultivate or something?"

"He could cultivate, but... when he was about to catch me, I spoke a name and the wind pretty much blew me to safety."

Darin stared at him, searching his face for any signs that he just told a joke. Johan started to laugh.

"I'm serious," he said between breaths. "I actually passed out after using it for too long."

"Show me," Darin said.

"I guess you don't care about me passing out, huh," he said.

Then he spoke the words of the foreign language. The wind encircled Darin, whirling around him like a small, weak tornado. The wind searched his body, making his clothes flap with excitement. Darin stood there dumbfounded, his mouth trying to word something but failing. Johan started to feel the fatigue set in so he stopped his little display.

"T—That's divine speech!" he said.

"Divine... speech, is it?"

"If you bothered to come by the Orphanage once in a while, you'd know what it is."

"Just tell me already."

"It's one of the four branches of the arcane arts," he said. "More importantly, you have to apply to the academy now!"

Johan sat there for a while, stroking his chin. "Are you sure it's that big of a deal?"

"You learned the name of the wind without getting any kind of arcane education." he said as if that explained it.

Johan shifted in place, "It's not like I can afford the tuition."

"They make exceptions for tuition sometimes! Just try it!"

Johan threw his hands up in surrender, "Okay, okay. Tomorrow."