Thwack! Thwack!

Squeak.

Thump.

Thump.

The squeak of leather on hardwood floor. The sound of a stick hitting a soft target. The heavy footfalls of manoeuvring. Deep breaths. A tall figure spun around in the air, landing heavily on his feet before turning again. His arm shot out, stick in hand, and struck a training dummy with such force it almost toppled over.

He bent back, as if evading an invisible foe. He spun around behind the dummy and slyly struck it on the ankle, the sound of wood on wood clacking in the hall. Sweat poured down his face, his shaggy black hair flailed about as he moved. His loose white open-necked shirt billowed out as he turned and struck the dummy again — harder than before.

The dummy rebounded back, as if propelled by an invisible force.

He small smile crosses his round face. His skin was white and smooth. He turned again, elegantly moving through the air with the grace of a ballroom dancer. He leapt and spun, striking the target three times! He struck the ankle of dummy as he took off, smashed its face in mid air and then wind-milled his arm — finishing off with a ferocious thrust. The dummy was almost knocked clean off the floor! But again, it rebounded back.

An empty sleeve dangled as he paused. He softly spun his feet around and approached, like a wild beast targeting his prey. His soft black cotton trousers, white socks and black tightly bound leather sandals hung close to his body as he inched along. The hard leather making no noise at his subtle advance. One small slide after another, he closed the gap between himself and the dummy.

His lifeless training companion stared back at him mutely, the peak of its defiance. The dummy seemed to regard his sneak with a silent arrogance, as if it didn’t need to dignify this meagre advance with a response. It’s unmoving form in a state of perpetual haughtiness.

The fight almost seemed unfair. A nimble young man, with thick cords of muscle barely concealed underneath his clothes. And a lifeless dummy.

But a mangy smile in a dark corner of the room proved the dummy was not alone. He had a friend in this cold heartless battle. The scales were not as one-sided as they appeared. The figure in the corner had a long patchy white goatee, spectacles and a loose hooded robe. The cloth was torn and tattered, covered in bright coloured patches. A shoeless foot peeked out of the shadowy corner, his big toe hesitantly peeping out of a musty sock. The man in the corner grinned and snapped his fingers.

Whoosh!

The dummy roared to life! Its wood pulsated with a burst of green energy and glowed with vitality. The scarecrow like figure blinked with a low level of sentience. Like a wild animal. It seemed to peer at the young man, its body trembling with anger — as if recalling a plethora of beatings. Emboldened by its power charged at his nemesis. No more would he be a slave! Freedom was his!

The young man with the loose white shirt let out a small laugh. His plain looking round face transformed by the unexpected turn of events.

The dummy leapt forward violently, i’s makeshift fist howling in the air.

He turned, an empty shirt sleeve flapping as he moved.

He only had one arm.

He was tall. Over six feet. Thick with muscles, but still slender. His eyes a dazzling brown, bursting with energy.

He sidestepped another of the dummy’s haphazard haymakers.

The dummy let loose a high kick.

The boy leaned back and tumbled on the ground, his arm whirling in the air simultaneously, striking the dummy’s ankle viciously.

The training dummy almost fell over, its wooden frame cracked from the powerful strike. It’s face silently shouting in pain.

The man in the corner snapped his fingers, green energy mended the tear.

But before the dummy could rejoice it was hit with a series of blows.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

The thin stick in the boy’s hand was unnaturally strong, but it could barely withstand the blows. Soon it creaked and groaned.

Then splintered.

Green energy rushed from his hand, wreathing the stick with a glowing energy — a little more vibrant than the dummies. The splintering stopped, and the beating continued. The little wooden stick seemed to be knit of steel. It was now a battle of energy!

The old man was faster, more experienced and more skilled. He knit the dummy’s wounds and simultaneously moved the little puppet to strike.

The young man, despite the wild style he used, appeared reserved. His use of the energy was sloppy, but the vibrancy and purity of the green was enough to keep the stick in his hands intact.

The dummy tried to cry out, it was losing more wood than it was healing. The battle had turned into a one-sided walloping. But then realized it was just an animated piece of wood. An extension of the man in the corner, just a small fragment of his mind. The man in the corner winced with every blow, locked eyes with the dummy’s pleading expression and then sighed.

As another blow struck the dummy’s head, the green energy keeping it up vanished, and its wooden cranium exploded in a shower of wooden fragments.

The young man looked disappointed.

“Training is over today Oz!”

“Grandpa Eb! But the test is —”

“That’s enough out of you boy!” Ebenezer Black stood up and stepped out of the shadowy corner. His tone severe but his narrow eyes were dancing with mirth.

“Fine…” Oz stored his training stick in his pocket.

“Oz… take off all the gear…”

“But Grandpa!”

“No buts!” Ebenezer smacked him upside the head. “These weights are useless to you now boy, you have trained your body to the utmost. The growth formulas I gave you have put you in peak physical condition, there is no more maturing left for you to do. Anymore of this mundane training is just a waste of your time, by cultivating regularly you’ll maintain the strength you have acquired.”

Oz tried to protest, but a sharp look from the old man cut him off. Wordlessly he pulled of an assortment of weights from his ankles, wrists, waist and back.

“Take off the sandals too.”

“Ugh fine!” He kicked his sandals off on the ground.

“And the —”

“Fine!” He took off his shirt, revealing a heavy vest. He slipped it off, steadying it with his mouth and tugging at it with his hand, he threw it on the ground absently.

“NO! DON’T THIS FLOOR ISN’T —”

Ebenezer tried to grab the vest, but it was too late, it smashed through the floor with a loud crash!

Ebenezer was livid. He rounded on the boy, all mirth gone only anger remained.

Oz shrank back, fear in his eyes evident.

Ebenezer spat at him in a fury, “What?! You think this is free! We can’t repair wood of this level, this was a special floor!” Spittle flew from his mouth as a tirade against the evils of society and the wretchedness of youth began.

“Grandpa I’m —”

“Don’t you dare ‘Grandpa’ me! This, oh this young man, I’m writing you out a debt certificate, you owe me for this floor. This is Nine Heavens Divine Saintly Oak! It increases the ability of Wood Cultivators to harness energy, this kind of stuff can’t just be fixed by shooting some green juice in it!” Ebenezer’s chin quivered with righteous indignation. “Oh, the nerve! Young people today don’t know the value of money. There are many sins in this world, but the greatest of all is waste! Money must never be wasted you disgusting cretin. Haven’t I trained you? Your carelessness sickens me… I hope you fail your entrance examinations! I hope McCarthy spits on you and calls you a useless waste of space… because people who don’t treat money right… Oh… Let me tell you! They don’t deserve to life!”

“I think you mean ‘live’…” Oz mumbled weakly.

Ebenezer’s nostrils flared as he grabbed Oz’s shirt and pulled him close, his saliva spraying as he hissed, “Oh… a grammarian… Mr. Words! Mr. Big Vocabulary! Oh, so wise and mighty… You know the appropriate tenses to use in the appropriate places… Oh good for you. But do you know the value of a ducat?!”

With a shake, Ebenezer tossed Oz to the floor and gargled a thick loogie and spat it at the young man’s feet. His tone was derisive and his face ice cold, “You make me want to vomit… words… bah humbug!”

“Now, Ebenezer don’t be so petty.”

A soft feminine voice called out from the doorway. Oz and Ebenezer turned to see a young girl.

She looked like a teenager, on the brink of leaving those years behind. Her face was oval and her skin the colour of coffee with cream. Curly black hair, tinged with orange, tied into a braid hung to the base of her neck. She wore white riding pants and high black leather boots and a blue military trim jacket and a white shirt underneath, all buttoned up but barely hiding her shapely figure. Her outfit matched her expression. Serious — though her words were light-hearted.

Spit flew from Ebenezer’s mouth as he launched into another tirade, “Dammit Gwen! You always take his side! Who takes the side of the floor?! The wood so brutally snatched at the pinnacle of life? What of the gold, so fastidiously mined from the earth and torn from its mother’s breast, then beaten in hot flames until it is made to comply! What of the —”

“He needs to pay his respects before the exam… we don’t have a lot of time,” Gwen softly replied.

Ebenezer deflated like a popped balloon.

“I see,” he said. “So, it’s that time of year too?”

“Will you be visiting Papa tonight?” Oz sat up from the ground, softly rubbing his tender cheeks.

“Of course boy, I am a man of compassion… Off you go, Ed’s probably waiting.” Ebenezer folded his knobbed fingers behind his back regally, like a man of import, and strode out of the dojo towards his own home. He paused at the back entrance and traced the wood fondly. He, Oz, Gwen, Lillywen and Ed had built this place for Oz, it wasn’t cheap. But without it, the boy stood no chance of passing the entrance examinations for the Sect’s Youth Program. He was even applying for the first-year program at the age of seventeen — and after much tutelage. Regular applicants applied at around thirteen, with no training. But Oz’s low talent and affinity to what was widely considered a useless element, left him with little choice. Ebenezer let his hand slide from the grainy wood leaving his reflections behind, he looked at Gwen and Oz standing in the doorway.

The young man laughing bashfully as his sister lightly scolded him. The two of them were framed by the gray light of the early morning.

All of a sudden Ebenezer felt very old. He looked at his gnarled and wooden skin, its hue looking less and less human with every passing day. His time was going to come soon. It was getting harder and harder for him to move and he could hear the voices of the plants more and more. Whispering to him. Calling him.

His hand started shaking. He clamped it.

“Tell your sister I say I wish her the best,” Ebenezer wheezed out, barely managing to keep his voice steady. “And Oz, if you don’t pass the test… do me a favour and cut off your other arm.” Ebenezer tugged his hood over his head and walked out.

*****

The brother and sister duo made their way along a foresty path. The sun had barely risen, and the morning dew had drenched their feet as they walked. The crunch of foot on dirt and stone almost foreign to the stillness of the woods. It was their only sound. Gwen was typically a quiet girl and many thought she had learned the habit from Oz — she was quiet boisterous when she was young, but as she grew older she changed. Lilywen had started chasing boys, typically the untrustworthy kind, but Gwen had stayed close to her brother. The silence suited Oz just fine. Part of him loved walking in these woods, another part of him feared it. Oz couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over him, as if these woods were a significant part of his memory. Whenever he walked here the box in the back of his mind would rattle.

That damn box…

To this day he didn’t know what it was. But it was sitting there. Whenever he tried to imagine something in his mind, to recall memories or learn — it was there. Intruding upon his mind. One time, while he was cultivating, he tried to force it open. But, as if it was just an apparition of light it faded out of his reach. It was almost as annoying as when people spread jam on toast with a spoon.

Mama…

His Mom always did that, she would always spread jam with a spoon.

He sniffled.

Turned his head.

He felt warm breath on his cheek.

Then almost screamed as he noticed Gwen’s eyes boring a hole into his face, just a hairsbreadth from his face.

When did she get so close? Damn Martial Arts Cultivators… Oz sniffed again, then pompously harrumphed while flapping his arm loudly, making the fabric whip about in the air. He then folded his arm behind his back, threw his shoulders back and continued walking forward — with the posture of an old man.

Gwen kept pace and kept staring, her fiery gaze locked on him.

Oz grew irate.

“May I help you young, lady?” He asked, his tone none too friendly.

“You’re doing it again…” was all she said.

Oz flapped his arm like a rooster trying to fly, “I beg your pardon!” His face flushed red with embarrassment.

“You are such an old man.”

Oz stopped walking. He turned and faced his sister.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, but you’ll never get a girlfriend at this rate.”

Oz snorted, “Maybe I’m just not interested.”

“I think sometimes you’re too interested, especially based on how your —”

“Not another word,” Oz hurriedly cut his sister off, his face redder than before.

She gave a slight smile, “You always cheer me up… brother.”

Oz cleared his throat loudly.

Her grin grew wider, “You are such an old man.”

The two of them kept walking together.

Soon they passed by a bridge. A name came to his mind. The Bridge of Nineteen Sparrows. What a pompous name… but this place… this place. It is dear to me… and I just can’t figure out why. He pursed his lips in contemplation as they walked by the bridge. Beyond the bridge was an island, the island had been sequestered off by the Chancellor’s command. There was an invisible wall of wind shutting off the little patch of land from everywhere else. Flowers had started to grow on the mound and the beginnings of a mulberry tree had sprouted, the sapling only a few years old. That island tugged at him with an unnatural pull, he spent many hours standing on that bridge and staring at that island. Waiting, just trying to see if anything would come to him. The box would rattle away, but nothing would happen. Another mystery.

Gwen carefully noted every head turn and every look of nostalgia that crossed Oz’s face. Oz took note of her careful noting. He nudged her with his elbow.

“What is it? What are you watching me so closely for?”

“I always wonder why Papa put the graves out here, you and him have the same look when you walk by this place… What do you know?” Her tone wasn’t hostile, probing or overbearing. Just simple curiosity.

Oz stopped and looked at his sister. His demeanour all of a sudden heavy. She tensed up in response, her eyes darting about to see if anyone was listening. Oz leaned back regally and let the wind tousle his hair as he looked off into the distance.

“I will tell you… but you need to keep a secret.”

Oz spoke in a hushed whisper. A whisper so slight Gwen could barely hear. She leaned in eagerly, delighted at an unexpectedly juicy turn of events.

Oz leaned forward.

Gwen perked up her ears.

His voice was slow and breathy, each word a barely audible whisper dripping from his mouth, “I… don’t… know…”

“Dammit Oz!” She punched him ferociously, almost knocking him clean off his feet.

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He tumbled into the grass.

She pounced on him, clearly aiming to give him a few more for good measure. Spinning his legs, Oz used the momentum to roll out of the way and stand up on his feet.

His sister stepped back after his quick dodge and regarded him evenly, “You’ve gotten much better.”

“Without my sword I’m useless, my physical strength is way too low…” Oz turned his head, allowed himself a depreciating smile, and started walking as Gwen looked on. “But look at you… you don’t even have a Cultivation Method yet, you’ve just been doing some basic Anatomical stuff, for your body to be this strong, your talent truly is amazing.” Oz turned, gave his sister a tight smile and started walking again.

She fell instep with him.

They walked on a for a few more minutes.

Before they reached the last turn in the path before the tombstones, Oz tapped Gwen on the shoulder and said, “Thanks a lot… thanks a lot both of you… for… delaying your acceptance until I got in… but… if I don’t get into the Academy this time… you should just go ahead.”

Gwen’s expression was serious, “Waiting any longer for you wasn’t an option.”

They shared a small smile and Oz was about to respond as rough voice barged in on their conversation.

“Stop talking… this is a sacred place.”

Ed’s voice cut off any chance of Oz replying to Gwen. The two of them looked at Ed. But his expression was cold and hard. They averted their eyes from their adoptive father.

Sensing their fear Ed gruffly said, “Damn kids, you think I could get mad at you? Just get over here… say some words.”

Oz looked up at his father.

Ed’s face was wrinkled and worn with the passage of time, it hadn’t been that long since Edna’s injury (relative to Cultivators), but the stress was getting to him. He pulled tight a nearly shredded black leather jacket, a keepsake from his wife. Rough blue denim jeans and a rough black belt coupled with black leather shoes completed his outfit. As always, there was nothing underneath Ed’s jacket, leaving his boney chest exposed to the world. A mass of scars crisscrossed his body, a couple of them fresh. Certain wounds could not be healed all the way, whether because of curses or enchantments. Each scar testified to a dangerous battle. A couple were fresh, the smell of black magic still lingering — festering in the wound, stopping it from getting healed. Ed scratched one of his scars, then winced at the pain. His hand passed over his bald head, then absently thumbed the rings on his fingers as he met the eyes of his children. His angular face drooped with sadness when he saw Gwen’s aghast expression. “Don’t be scared of me… it’s been awhile…”

“Papa!” Gwen almost burst into tears as she sprinted towards her father and wrapped him in a tight hug. The old man gently patting her head, “I was only gone for a week Gwen…”

“But you have more! You have more —”

“Shhhh… that’s enough outta you… come on. Pay your respects, then I’ll walk you to the Testing Ground.” Ed turned to look at Oz. The boy’s orange and brown eyes were staring at him. Searching him. Ed felt his heart clench, those eyes of his, they always seemed to reach deep within his soul. Like they were the dearest of friends a long time ago, they were filled with reproach. He didn’t need to say anything, Oz didn’t need to move. His anger and displeasure at Ed taking these dangerous missions was plain. The disapproval grew even more when Ed tried to reach for his pipe. The tobacco being one of the only things that still calmed him down.

Ed stopped.

The reproach waned.

Ed felt the need to defend himself, he mumbled softly, “McCarthy promised triple pay… I’ve been —”

“Money is just a tool for happiness. We ought not forget the reason we use it in the first place… Papa.” Oz’s voice was soft, almost comforting, like a father speaking to a son.

Ed blushed like a boy who had just been scolded, “Damn boy, whadda you know? Huh?!”

“I know this much.” Oz took a few steps forward to the first gravestone. He bowed his head in respect and stood silently. Soon Gwen was beside him, after she had managed to tear herself away from Ed.

Ed consigned himself to mumbling before somberly staring at the gravestones. There were ten gravestones. On that day almost twelve years ago, when Oz’s potential changed and his future was decided, he left on a mission. His mission to find out who was connected to Jannes in the school, all his hidden accomplices. In that time, he’d found hundreds of people. Students. Elders. Deacons. Even townsfolk! He had three more years and he knew there were at least twice as many people to be found. But because of that mission, because of the tightness of the events of that day. He didn’t hear till almost a month later when he returned to the sect. How his children had been brutally murdered. Muscles torn from bone. Bodies broken. Limbs severed. It was gruesome. McCarthy himself found out only the day after. No one had seen it coming. They all had forgotten that Lee had known almost everything about them. The enemy had access to almost all their information, he knew all their weaknesses. He knew how to hurt them.

Paderborn and his witches.

His eyes wandered to the tombstones. He clenched his fists.

He would mutilate them and feed their bodies to the crows! Lee had killed ten of his twelve children that night and left his wife crippled. It was a shame McCarthy had killed the man. But there were plenty more people left for Ed to satiate himself with, his revenge would be total and final. Then, hopefully by then… his wife would awake… and things could return as they once were. Dear God of the Green Hills, I beg you! Ed mumbled a silent prayer in his heart.

Ed choked back tears.

My babies…

Oz and Gwen finished paying their respects. The trio then walked on in silence towards the testing ground. The mood too heavy for any sort of conversation.

*****

The town was bustling with life. Carriages stormed along the roads and children laughed in the streets. Tea and snack stalls hailed patrons trying to sell their wares. Families sat at benches and tables along the roads enjoying the afternoon festivities. The little town of about ten thousand people was now bursting at the seams. Its numbers swelled to almost ten times that amount. Special security was brought in and the School provided its own Deacons and merchants to hawk wares and to keep all things peaceful. A special contingent of Guards was even brought over from a nearby city just for this purpose. But it was still a rowdy time. Violence sprang up here and there coupled with petty theft. The occasional fight was broken up by men in green uniforms with steel breastplates. Colourful outfits of overcoats, vests, dresses and riding pants were everywhere: peddlers, vagrants, ne’er-do-wells and miscreants.

Oz, Ed and Gwen were walking down the main road. Some street children bumped into a fat nobleman and picked his pockets. The man shouted, and his Cultivator bodyguard chased down the children. Some screams and the sound of a whipping spoke of the result. A burly man carrying two heavy barrels of wine was startled as the fat nobleman bumped into him — while complaining about the children. The man cried out as he dropped a barrel of wine that burst onto the street, his product now scattered on the road. Red liquid splashed on a noblewoman’s dress. Before the burly man could garner an apology and compensation the noblewoman had already started shouting at the burly man, who pulled down his bowler cap with an apologetic expression. A young man with a red embroidered shirt tugged on the fat man’s arm, and the two of them hustled away — avoiding their role in this whole debacle. In the din of the hustle and bustle of the crowd a bald black man walked with his two children, the three of them watching all the going-ons with bemusement. Today was a special day.

It was Selection Day.

Well more like selection month, since people hardly would travel for days just to stay somewhere for a few hours.

That aside, today was the annual testing day for everyone who wanted to apply to the Sect of Sagacity. The gifted: Cultivators, Wizards, Alchemists, Martial Artists and the like, had all gathered in the town for a chance to make something of themselves. Older gifted wandering vagabonds had also come, to acquire powerful backing and to find a relatively safe place to pursue immortality. Though these people were technically “gifted” as well, their potential was too lacking and their age too high to be accepted as students. But if they performed well in the tests they could always be hired as a Deacon, from there the possibility of promotion was strong — granted that they survived a few years. The young, who were talented and brimming with potential, applied for the Academy. Everyone applied first for the Secular Studies Division, high grades were required in literature, math, science and history. They then took a Cultivation and Combat Test. If they didn’t get passing grades on one, then they were promptly swept out the door.

There was also a large number of ungifted who also applied every year, hoping to find work as Research Assistants, Administrators and the like.

But the majority were the talented youths from all over the region. Ancient noble families, wealthy merchants and powerful bureaucrats all sent their children to this school. People came from all over, this was one of the top institutions in the world after all. There was another reason people sent their children to this school. McCarthy was one of the most powerful people in all the world, the chance that the school would be destroyed by its enemies was next to nil! It was not an uncommon thing in this world for Schools, Sects or Academies to be wiped out overnight by their enemies. But McCarthy was normally the one doing the wiping out.

“Over here!”

Ed, Gwen and Oz turned their heads to see who called.

It was Lilywen. Her orangeish curls and blue eyes bounced with excitement as she waved. Her bubbly expression and actions in sharp contrast to her sister’s more calm demeanour.

Ed waved back. Then looked at Oz and Gwen, “You two go on ahead, I’m in charge of the Psyker Test.”

With that Ed melted into the throng of people and was gone before his daughter had arrived.

Oz saw Lilywen’s face droop with disappointment, he quickly stepped forward with Gwen, “Dear sister! Where were you this morning?”

“Papa didn’t tell you?” Lilywen distractedly replied while peeking behind them, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ed.

Gwen hugged her sister, bringing her back to the present with a rare dazzling smile. “You look great, love what you did with the outfit!”

Lilywen blushed in response, “Aw sis! Thanks… it was your idea, the blue on white.” She smoothed the long blue dress and gently touched the white sleeves. Slits went up from the knees all the way to her waist, revealing tight white riding pants and black leather boots.

Oz stood back and stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Yes ignore me… I’m not here. I didn’t ask a question at all.”

Gwen glared at Oz.

He loudly cleared his throat avoiding her gaze.

Lilywen pulled herself from her sister’s embrace, “I was training with Papa this morning, he told me if I pass the entrance examination, he’ll give me a new manual!”

“I didn’t know you were a Psyker…” Oz was nonplussed.

“I’m not!” The curt reply was followed by a very long and large eyeroll.

Gwen sniggered, “Leave ent man alone, he’s been communing with nature, cut him some slack.”

“Oz can talk to plants!” Lilywen’s eyes went wide in amazement, a newfound respect lingered in the back of her eyes.

If Gwen was the kind of girl to give an eyeroll, she would have done a three-sixty. But she settled for a light tsk tsk. She poked her sister, “Your head is full of nothing but boys!”

Oz cleared his throat loudly, “Someone asked a question…”

Lilywen pushed Gwen away and stood in front of her brother, “Can you talk to trees?”

Oz sighed majestically and pat his sister’s head, as if he was not part of the mortal coil, “Of course, it is one of the least of my abilities.”

Lilywen gasped in delight.

Gwen’s jaw hung open. She stuttered, “Wh — wh — what did you say?”

“Sisters please, with my genius Wood Affinity did you think such a small task was impossible?” He regarded his siblings haughtily.

They shrank in response.

Gwen hoarsely asked, her throat dry from shock, “Can you actually speak to plants?”

Oz flashed an enigmatic grin at Gwen, “Ah yes… and they have a lot to say about you and your… affections.”

Gwen dryly coughed.

Oz turned around, “Let’s go — ah, Lil!”

“Hmmm?” Lilywen cocked her head to the side, showing off a pair of studded earrings.

“What were you training with —” Oz felt his breath catch as her fist stopped just an inch from his face. The blood drained from his face.

She quirked a wry grin, “Boxing!” She casually placed an arm on his elbow and walked beside Oz with a beaming smile.

“I… see… Well then… let’s —” Oz felt a tug on his armless shoulder, he turned to see Gwen with a violent expression. Her nails were digging into his skin. He winced in pain. He tried to stutter out a question, but she beat him to the punch.

“What did you hear about my ‘affections’?” Her grip tightened on his arm like a crab’s claw.

“It was a joke! No one can talk to plants! They don’t have souls, they don’t have minds, what the frick would they say?!” Oz screamed at her in a silent whisper. Relief flooded Gwen’s face, her grip loosened. Lilywen looked on mystified at what had transpired, and Gwen cleared her throat awkwardly (as if trying to wipe away the memory of what had transpired) and started tugging them all forward.

The three of them walked on together.

From the outside, he looked like the luckiest man in the world! A pair of beautiful twins hanging off his arms… er… arm. Smiling and laughing happily with one another. But looks can be deceiving! Nothing is more terrifying than going somewhere with overachieving family members who look better than you, are more talented than you, more likeable than you — who really are just everything you’re not. But none of these thoughts were in his mind. Something else was occupying his thoughts.

Oz felt the box in his mind rattle with every step he took. This town. Especially whenever his eyes landed on a tea stall, those were a heyday for the box in his mind. This box had caused him no small amount of stress. He felt his mind whirring about. Perhaps I have an inheritance left behind by some great expert! And at the right moment it will burst out and save my life! Or kill me…

A sharp voice intruded upon his thoughts.

“Lily! Who are you walking with, hey you! Let go of her!”

Oz looked ahead, and saw a young man with bouncy brown hair, olive skin and sharp eyes shouting at them as he ran. The man planted his feet in front of them and stared down the slightly taller Oz, completely unintimidated by the bigger man.

He wore a loose red cotton shirt, embroidered with gold. The buttons and cuff links on his shirt were solid gold. His black trousers looked to be made of some sort of enchanted fabric and even his leather boots had an odd lustrous hue.

The boy, noticing eyes were on him, dropped his voice to a low whisper, “What are you doing holding my Lily?” His eyes were aflame with desire.

Oz’s eyes lit up. He looks familiar to me… Ah well, that doesn’t matter. What matters is my sister has a Mr. Moneybags! You can never have too many rich friends! Oz sniffed the air. His mind grew a little sharper. He smells like he needs a punishing… Oz’s eyes roamed around the lad’s body until he saw it, tucked away on the side of his belt. The storage pouch. No problem.

“Leo! Leave my brother alone!” Lily almost squeaked at the man. Her cheeks flushed red.

The man with the red shirt looked abash at the sudden rebuke, a mixture of relief and irritation flooded his face, “Oh, your brother… But still! You shouldn’t let another man hold you, not since we…”

“Leo! SHHH!”

Lily’s loud shushing drew Gwen’s wary eyes.

Oz took note. Clearly, he who is Mr. Moneybags to me is Mr. Prince Charming to you, the nose is never wrong. Oz sighed in his mind. It is a brother’s duty to guide his sister along the straight and narrow! And protect her from such materialistic urges. Be at peace Leo, she only likes you for your money. And you only like her for her body, my conscience is clear.

“Ah, but I’m not holding her Mister…” Oz began, trailing off.

“Leopold Parnassus!” Leo drew himself up stiffly, his muscles tensing with every movement, revealing a man in peak physical development. “And you are holding her!”

“Ah, of the Parnassus Circus!”

“… No… of —”

“Of Parnassus Accounting?”

“No, that’s my cousin’s family, I’m —”

“Ah, my apologies, it must be of Parnassus Industries!”

“Well, not of the Industries…”

“Ah, it must be of Parnassus Watches?”

“No…”

“Ah, I see, then there is only one, the Parnassus of Sewage and Water!”

“…Yes…”

“Good money in the sewage industry! Very good money!”

“Well… my family has done well for itself!”

A sly grin crossed Oz’s face, “I hear the ladies are not offended by your industry, I hear your currently dating —”

Leo raised his hand, stopping the conversation and spoke slowly. “Well now, there’s no need to air out someone’s personal life, there are many unsubstantiated rumors floating about.”

“Rumors, me? I never speak of rumors, I only speak of facts! Are you not incredibly wealthy?”

“Well, I am… I more had in mind my —"

Oz shook his head lightly and let out a cheery laugh, one that his sisters had never seen before, “Some people might mock the profession, but they cannot mock the results!”

“Oh, you are a man of taste I see!” Leopold relaxed his expression, seeming a little more loose and free. Initially he was off guard, but it seemed that Oz was nothing more than a career flatterer. He asked, “What’s your name?”

“Names! Names! What is in a name, my name is not Parnassus, what a pity! Perhaps one day one of my relatives would take that name.” Oz saw Lilywen blush in his peripheral vision. He continued, an Ebenezer inspired rant on the rise, “Do you know what’s more important than names? The correct outlook! Since I have the correct outlook on you (your immense wealth, handsomeness and philandering) you must have the correct outlook on me!” Oz tugged at his white shirt, then pulled a faced blue overcoat with patches on the elbows and in various places and threw it over his white shirt. Biting the collar with his mouth as he pulled his one arm through and then used the arm to pull the loose fabric on his other side through the jacket. Then popped a small blue bowler cap on his head.

Leo was taken aback at the sudden change of attire and demeanour. His voice grew dangerous, “What do you mean, philandering?”

“Sir, let’s not make this about you, this is about me!” Oz’s voice was sharp, his tone alluring, Leo listened closely to this strange man. Oz stared at him, then solemnly declared, “You do me umbrage!”

“Pardon?” Leo looked confused.

“You do offend me sir! You accused me of holding Lily’s arm, I have done nothing of the sort, she’s holding mine.” Oz gestured expansively, as if painting a picture in the air.

Leo paused, “I apologize for that sir, I was rash, I didn’t realize you were her brother.” His eyes and his tone showed no hint of apology. The hostility only grew, and the beginnings of anger were bubbling in his face.

Lily looked as if she was about to speak up, but Gwen stealthily pinched her and whispered, “Just watch, brother is doing you a favour.”

“Well sir, that is not a proper apology!” Oz began again, his tone a little harder. Leo took note and tensed up in response. “You didn’t say that I wasn’t holding her arm! Please, I see you as the fine rich successful young man that you are. Your family is one of the richest. You are a handsome and intelligent man to boot, if I recall correctly you scored higher than all your siblings on the Pre-Tests…”

With every platitude Leo felt more irritation rise, Oz’s compliments had been jeers from the beginning.

But Oz’s speech was far from over, he continued, a mischievous glint in his eye, “But such a man like you has eyes. Surely, you’re not blind, you must see. She was grabbing me, not I her.” Leo looked as if he was on the verge of interrupting, but Oz ploughed through, “Now I understand! My sister is indeed a beautiful woman and I am the closest man to her on this earth and have seen her grow up. Not to mention the fact that we aren’t blood related at all, just being a family of adoptees.”

“Wait, you’re not related?” Leo sounded flustered, anger crept into his voice, his emotions unable to be contained.

“Yes, well, that isn’t important. What is important is that we have such a close bond, we tell each other everything. She just can’t help but hold on to me, on account of our closeness” Oz leaned in to Leo, who was simmering with wrath. The young man almost twitched at every word Oz spoke. But Oz simply added more fuel to the flame. He took off his hat and held it close to his chest and stepped close, his whisper was soft and salacious, “Sometimes our relationship just spills out into public.”

Smack!

Lilywen gasped.

Oz dropped to the ground and coughed blood. He barely held on to his bowler cap as he fell. He looked up, blood pouring from his mouth. Let out a small gasp, “You hit me…” Then dropped as if unconscious.

Leo heaved heavy breaths, a little shocked at his power. He looked at his bloody knuckles in shock. Then looked at Oz who was plastered on the cold cobblestone, blood leaking from his mouth. This did not look good.

Lilywen tried to run for her brother. Gwen held her back, her face pale.

Leo felt alarms go off in his mind at the scene. Passersby stopped and stared. Whispering started among them, soon a crowd had formed. Whispers of “He punched him out of the blue!” and “I think his jaw is broken!” But seeing Leo’s wealthy attire no one stepped forward to help. Nobles had quite a bit of clout. But within minutes a couple guards showed up, their steel breastplates glistening in the sun.

“What do we have here?” A guard with an unshaven face spat as he walked up. He nodded toward Oz’s unmoving form and another guard went to help him up. The young man with one arm was barely able to support himself, even with the guards help. Onlookers whispered words of pity at the young man’s state. A wave of sympathy washed across the rough looking guard’s face.

He turned and looked at Leo.

“I didn’t hit him hard! I swear!” Leo was getting worried.

“Taking advantage of cripple!” Oz shouted, blood flew from his mouth as he tried to stand. The crowd was startled at his sudden burst of energy. Oz nearly tottered over from the exertion, he leaned heavily on the guard. The whispers of sympathy only grew. Oz turned to the scruffy looking guard, tugging his jacket close and then taking off his bowler cap, revealing some coins on the inside. “I was just asking for some change, lost me arm a long time ago in a horrible accident, I can’t work anymore… it’s hard to pay the bills. I don’t want to beg, I work hard… some people have seen me! I carry wood through this town a lot… I just needed some money for some food. Anyways… I was asking him for money. At first he jeered. Then I moved on — I don’t want to be a harasser… But then he called me over, said he’d give me some money. Then he struck me! Out of the blue, after inviting me close!”

The crowd grew agitated at the revelation. The guard’s face turned hostile, he whirled on Leo, his questioning gaze more than enough to elicit a response from the young nobleman.

“I did not!” Leo almost screamed, confusion across his face.

“He did! I saw the whole thing!” A matronly voice called out as a woman wiped floury hands on her apron and stepped forward. A guard with a pen and pad stood beside her, ready to take notes. The woman continued, “This young man approached this guy in the red shirt, took his cap off — like he was expecting change or something — then this noble just clocks him over the head. Despicable!”

“That’s what I saw!”

“Me too!”

Leo backed up, fear across his face as he saw some more guards approaching behind him, “You can’t arrest me! It’s a lie! Lily tell —” Leo’s jaw dropped. Lilywen and Gwen were both gone. Nowhere to be seen.

“Nobles like you disgust me,” The burly guard with the scruff spat as he regarded Leo with a denigrating gaze.

“Wait! No, that’s not what happened! I swear! How dare you! What, kind of man are you?!” Leo turned on Oz, his face hot with anger and his hands reaching for his storage pouch.

Seeing this motion. The guard’s eyes widened. He was not one of the gifted! He couldn’t tousle with Cultivators! He was just a common man, the guard shouted,“Get the Praporshchik! It’s a gifted!”

Everyone backed up, only a special unit of the guards could deal with powerful cultivators. The guards immediately went to secure a perimeter keeping civilians at a distance.

Leo drew a sword from his pouch as the crowd backed up, forming a circle around the combatants. He let his energy flare. Some do-gooders in the crowd immediately backed off. The boy was Understudy Grade. It would take a little bit before someone of sufficient calibre arrived to handle this situation. In that time Leo could kill Oz and be gone, his identity unknown to this group of people.

Members of the crowd shouted obscentities at Leo, some of the braver ones even threw stones. He brandished his sword at them, aggravating the masses. “Anyone who helps this man today dies!” His voice thundered out, laced with energy — the crowd went silence.

During the exchange Oz carefully put the bowler cap back on his head. The money in it seemingly vanishing. He tapped his feet on the ground, his black leather sandals lightly clacking on the stone. He wiped blood from his mouth and made sure the rope belt around his black trousers was tight.

Leo fixed his attention on Oz, “What kind of man are you? Let me teach you a lesson in manners, you think you can frame me? You little prick!”

“Ah, someone else must of punched me!”

“Yeah, I did punch you but —”

“He confessed, he did it!” Oz shouted out and the audience murmured with approval.

Leo smouldered with indignation. “Who. Are. You.”

“Me?” Oz pulled out a thin rattan cane from inside the back of his jacket.

The audience rumbled with surprise. “He’s not a cultivator?” And “Where’s his storage pouch?” Shock moved through the observers as they waited eagerly to see the outcome. Some waiting for blood, others for justice.

Oz smiled at Leo, “I am a gentleman.”