At that time, I had descended into a spiral of self-destruction. It was my fault, and no one else’s, that he had decided to leave without us. But now I knew what awaited us in the East—the reason why the Empire was so adamant on sending soldiers there.

Ink was finite, and we were running out of it.

Makka had just gone into the wolf’s mouth without knowing. If I hadn’t betrayed his trust, he would still be here, and I could tell him not to go. Not yet; it was too soon, and we were too weak to face the main brunt of the Empire.

“Tarar,” Yaira softly whispered next to me. “You are hyper-focusing on the wrong thing. You assume he is gone already, and you are taking all the blame for it. Maybe he is not gone.”

I’m not proud of the interchange, which is easy to see in retrospective but not so much when in the heat of the moment.

“I already told you!” I exclaimed. “I’ve already checked his room, and he is not there! His neighbor says he hasn’t been for days! Of course it’s my fault!”

Yaira remained unfazed and didn’t enter my game. Maybe I was trying to have someone yell at me to confirm that I had messed up and that it was all my fault. But she was patient and peaceful, showing a kind of maturity that I still hadn’t reached.

She was in a state of separation between her feelings and her environment—me. It was an ability to look at things from a distance, developed through life experience, that I still lacked.

“Why don’t we check one more time?”

All my strength and ire succumbed to her lovely smile. I shrugged and followed after her in absolute silence on our way back to Makka’s room. I was not expecting to find him there, and my thoughts were vindicated when no one answered.

Yaira tried a few times, knocking repeatedly and shouting his name. But there wasn’t any answer, no matter how many times she tried. I would have surrendered already, but she was adamant on finding him no matter what.

“Let’s bring it down.” Her face was as serious as it could get.

“What?”

“The door,” she pointed to it as if it were not clear which door she meant. “We have to break in. Makka! If you are inside, take cover! Because we are going in!“

She looked at me with her eyebrows raised and slightly nodded towards the door. She was the brain, and I would have to be the muscles. I didn’t really mind, and at that point, I might as well see if he was just trying to hide inside his room. I invoked La’er and swung it from a distance, making sure the slash of fire hit the door right on the lock.

It cracked with that single attack, falling apart and leaving the room unsecured. Security had never been a problem, and the doors reflected it. Though they might have reconsidered after this one incident.

Yaira slowly opened the door to the complete darkness inside. There was no light, and all I could see was the Ink emanating from some formations here and there. Makka was in to them—I had always known it—but in perspective, the hundreds of drawings out in the open told a story of obsession.

I scanned the whole cell with my eyes, hoping to find a lone figure hiding in some corner and to see the Ink in his body. But Makka was nowhere to be seen. He had really gone East without us, chasing something that would get him killed.

I clicked my tongue with frustration as Makka reached out for the candle that we knew was on his table. She lighted it the traditional way, not spilling any unnecessary drops of Ink.

My eyes went round with surprise. This was not Makka’s room—not the one I knew and had been in before. Books were scattered on the floor. The walls were marred with stains of what seemed to be spilled Ink. Everything, clothes and writing tools alike, was out of place.

Someone had been fighting here. Makka had tried to defend himself, and all of this happened. Every single piece of furniture completed the story of how he couldn’t stop them. The floor was filled with mud and footprints. None of them recognizable, but from at least three different pairs of shoes.

And then I remembered. A few days back, when I first came to his room and knocked on his door. There had been noises at first, and I thought it was Makka. When the door didn’t open, I assumed it was him being mad at me. Reality had just hit me hard. I had caught his attackers going through his room, or perhaps even attacking him. And I had let them escape.

“Tarar!?” I refocused when I heard Yaira’s agitated voice. “Come here!”

I jumped over the small distance that separated us, careful not to land on anything, and found her staring at a small parchment. I wasn’t even a proper piece of paper. It looked like someone had ripped one of the clothes and used the fabric to leave a message.

> Your kind is not accepted here on our tribe. You, who have not gone through any of the rituals that our traditions demand, have overstayed your welcome.

>

> That you won the challenge is an injustice to all of the Drak’ga. Your stolen knowledge and techniques should have died with you the first day you set foot here.

>

> Those who helped you get there are as guilty as you are. They will face judgement.

I barely had the strength to stop me from setting the whole room ablaze. Had it been my own things that were trashed and on the floor, they wouldn’t have been as lucky.

Yaira had been holding on to my hand this whole time, which I failed to notice until it was too late. I was clamping on hers with a strong grab that should have made her scream with pain. But she was not.

I softened my grasp, and was tempted to simply let go of her, but it was too recomforting. It was my fault, in a way. Being my friend is what put him in this position to begin with. But it shouldn’t have been this way.

“Yaraq…” I said in a hushed tone.

Since the very first day, he had made it clear that he didn’t like me here. There had been one attempt at my life already, and although it was never confirmed, I was sure it had been orchestrated by him.

Now that all the spotlight was centered on me, he could no longer just directly go for me. He had decided to stoop to hijacking, if not murdering, innocents in an attempt to hurt me.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

And it does hurt me.

The note was short, but I was too furious to read it thoroughly. I pulled through and made myself read it again; every word mattered, and every sentence might have been hiding something.

“Judgement… They can’t mean Judgement of Light, can they?”

“No,” Yaira immediately answered. “Not all the Drak’oora would approve of a move like this. They wouldn’t if it were you, so they certainly won’t if it’s Makka.”

“It’s probably their monthly council meeting,” Spare let me know. “I’ve never been there or have knowledge of it, but they celebrate a monthly gathering where they discuss matters important to their traditions. If there is any judgement to be made, it will be there.”

I relayed the information to Yaira, who was already thinking of the exact same idea. We had been late at discovering the note, which left us with only two days before the next meeting. Not a lot of time, but enough to raise the issue with the Drak’oora.

There was one in particular that I felt would be inclined to be on my side and help us. Drak’oora Layan. We ran as fast as we could, not even bothering to close a door that we knew wouldn’t protect any secrets anymore.

The village was as quiet as one would expect given the time of the night. No one was wandering around, lights were off and street shops were closed. There was nobody to stare at the two figures sprinting as if their lives depended on it.

The town had an open policy. There was no such thing as a closed building; you could get everywhere and anywhere as long as you were respectful of the people living there.

We most definitely were not. It was late, really late, and we were interrupting the Drak’oora sleep. Surely we considered the matter urgent, of utmost importance, but it was nonetheless an disrespectful hour to be waking people up.

Layan looked pissed. So angry that she didn’t even bother asking what we were doing there. She just stared at us with a look that could kill. A look that we outright ignored.

“Makka has been hijacked by Yaraq!” I shouted.

“What?” She was nonplussed, as demonstrated by her flat and inexpressive tone.

“Yaraq. Has. Hijacked. Makka.” I stayed away from passives and spoke slowly and louder, somehow expecting that it would make her understand me all of a sudden.

“Do you have any proof?” She answered back while rolling her eyes.

I didn’t, but Yaira quickly produced the parchment from under her robes and showed Layan.

“This is all you have? I need actual proof, something that incriminates Yaraq. Otherwise, you are just making wild accusations. It’s your word against his, and his word is several times more important than yours.”

“But it’s obvious!” I retorted. “They want to get rid of me, and now that they can’t directly target me, they’ve gone for my friends!” Layan squinted one eye but otherwise remained equally unbothered. “We believe they want to kill him during the next council of the traditionalists; you have to help us!”

She did the only thing I was not expecting. She snorted in an ugly way while waving her hand up and down.

“Forget about that! You want to me antagonistize an entire faction just for one of our apprentices? You are out of your mind!”

“Drak’oora!” Yaira interrupted. “I surely do not have to remind you that their acts are highly illegal and against all of our beliefs.”

“You certainly do not have to do that, young lady. If you bring me incriminating proof, and only if you do, I will take part in this bout. Otherwise, I will not, and most importantly, cannot interfere in their political meetings.”

I was about to make a few snarky remarks when she interrupted me by raising one finger right in front of my face.

“That’s enough. I’m the only reason you are still alive, Tarar. If you give them reasons to turn on me—and trust me, butting into their meeting would more than qualify as one—then your backer would be gone out of the picture. And, with no backing and only enemies, I suppose I don’t have to explain to you what would happen, would I?”

“I-but, then what happens with Makka?” I struggled to get a whole sentence out.

“I suggest you find someone else who’s crazy enough to go against their whole council to save one person. Maybe if you manage to convince some other Drak’oora?” She shrugged. “I wish you good luck, Tarar. Yaira.”

She closed the door to her room as soon as she said that, leaving us staring at the hard and cool wood. None of us had anything to say. If the only Drak’oora who seemed to value me—aside from the already deceased Kasd—was not going to help us, then none of the others would.

That didn’t mean that we wouldn’t try, though. With inexistent trust and confidence in the rest of the Drak’oora, it would have to wait until next morning. Antagonizing them by reaching out at this time was the opposite of what we wanted to achieve.

It was not a good night’s sleep. Not even the fact that I had stayed at Yaira’s was enough to compensate for it. Whenever I closed my eyes, I only saw Makka. I involuntarily revisited the first time we met on the baths and the many times he had told me about glyphs and formations.

He was unique in his own ways, and I missed all of it.

Our visit the next day was as good as one could expect. There is no meaning in trying to garnish the truth. We failed to find any support.

There were five of them remaining. They were quickly reduced to three when we ruled out the traditionalists, Drak’oora Weirar and Drak’oora Poiza. Another, the same man who ignored me during the Judgement of Light, outright refused to talk with us, citing that he would only hold official hearings if requested through the official process.

Drak’oora Quintar was perplexed that anyone was daring to break the rules of our tribe. So perplexed that he had to go back to his room and meditate about the implications. Rules had to be put in place! He didn’t ever mention anything about helping Makka, and we all knew he wouldn’t.

Our last hope was crushed when we learned that the last of the six was nowhere to be found. He had been sent to an official mission to no other place than the East.

“Can we ask someone else?” I half-asked and half-begged Yaira.

But she shook her head, tears falling from her eyes. She tried to say something, but her voice broke right as the first word was about to leave her mouth. There had been many defining moments that helped shape the person I am now, and this was one of them.

She had been standing by my side all this time. She helped me see a way forward. She stopped me from blaming myself. And she put her fears aside and came with me to visit the Drak’oora. I thought she was strong, but I realized just then that she was acting strong.

“If I go there, will you come with me?” I gently turned her and made her look at me. “Let’s find out where they meet, and let’s save Makka. He would do it for us, so we have to do it for them.”

“It won’t be easy, I know.” I continued. “We have to find out who will be attending and come up with a strategy. And we only have one day to do it. Let’s do it, alright?”

It was my time to step up for her. I had to take the leadership seat and to drive ourselves to victory. Whatever it took. We were already in the Drak’oora’s building, so my next step was decided.

“Layan!” I was once more at her door and staring at her. “I’m not asking you to do anything, as it’s clear you don’t have the guts for that. But,” I continued before she got the chance to shout back at me, “you will tell me where the meeting is, and we will go there.”

“Kid, you do not tell me what to do.”

“Yes, I do. You asked for a favor from me, remember? Well, your leverage is compromised, and unless I can get him safely back, you can forget about me moving a single finger for you. So, either you solve it, or we will.”

She was silent for a while, playing a game of staring at me. But I hadn’t come back to play a game. I was serious with my intentions. The only reason I would have to do her any favor was the retaliation, Makka and Yaira.

“Tarar, if you go there, they won’t think twice about acting against you. If they only kicked you out of here, that would be quite magnanimous of them. Expect imprisonment, torture, death. And you still want to go there to save someone you barely know?”

“He is my friend, and I know he would do the same for me. I don’t need to know anything else. So, what will it be?”

She clicked her tongue as she tapped her foot on the floor. But finally relented.

“It’s outside the city; you won’t find it by yourself. I’ll have someone guide you there; be ready by dusk tonight.”

I nodded and turned to leave; we had much more to prepare for.

“And Tarar,” she said when we were leaving already, “you better make it back alive. You owe me.”