The complacency of darkness always brought about my brazen nature. It was my reaction to the night and my near-fully black eyes. With the quiet of night, I came to life. I often wished I could participate with those of the day. My eyes distinguished me from my people and I didn't like the benefits. They didn't outweigh the cost to me. I had grown used to seeing in the dark, but not everyone appreciated my eyes. Perhaps, it would have been worse if there wasn't a golden ring bordering my irises. My eyes would be completely black like an evil creature. Other Caparans fear me enough and call me a freak. My immunity to their stares and insults is still growing.

The rushing air passes me, as I weave in-and-out of the buildings with grace. I listen to the distinct whistling of my helm. The whistling helps us distinguish each other in battle. I dodge another building, brushing against it with my armor. The orange sparks fall below me. Capara is a large place and I've never gone this way before.

Never once have I wounded myself dodging the numerous homes, ramshackle trader's dens, or open-air laundry lines. The same could not be said of my bodyguards. It wasn't uncommon for one of them to meet their end atop the clotheslines or lofty temples pillars. I try not to keep them flying with me at night. Most of my bodyguards weren't too intelligent either. They were barbaric, like my rivals, and served plunder as their second master. My flight ends as I approach a massive temple.

An outstretched platform arises in front of me, as I touch my feet to its surface. My motor cuts off and I cover my eyes from the light. The platform connected to the third story of the immaculate structure, held out by the statue of a giant priestess. I look up at what can only be described as a skyscraper of stone. There were many platforms above me, reaching out like lichens on a cave wall.

The immense stone carvings above me were filled with mythical beasts, stories of conquest, and hidden romances. Only the dangling knee-blades of fallen bodyguards added any life to the natural colors of the stone they hung on. The occasional wind would leave them scraping the ancient carvings, creating a bitter sound.

I let my glove brush against the smooth masonry, not once looking behind me. My mind was forced to play games with my priesthood rivals. Everything was to be taken seriously. I was late showing up to the blood fest. My rivals had already received their hunting grounds. I wanted time to plan and think.

I approach a wooden doorway. Several feet land behind me, let me know my own bodyguards are there with me. They hold torches and small imported lights from Neandeleria. I turn to them and speak.

“Stay here. I will return and bring the news.”

My bodyguards nod to me, among the blurs of light.

I approach a wooden doorway, leading to a tunnel. The tunnel lowers. It lowers again, forcing me to bow upon reaching the temple's glorified interior. The door latch on the other side slides open and I hear the sound of faint chanting.

My blackened eyes stare blindly into a well-lit room. Heroic reliefs were chiseled into every corner, made entire of gold and metals. Lustrous metals from every cliff mine in Capara dotted the ceiling and lines of elegant tables were appearing in front of me as the lights dimmed. I hear torches hiss as they are put out with water. There was room for many guests among the porcelain décor and expensive plates. On the walls were many religious coins of ancient origin, embedded among the colorful collections of famous paintings.

The display of wealth doesn't take me by surprise. I catch a glimpse of a priestess as another light goes out to slightly honor my arrival. They knew about my eyes. A Caparan priestess enters my proximity.

In seconds, the chanting in the distance stops and a young woman confronts me. Delicate bracelets jingle around her small arms and wrists, while fitted pieces of cloth leave the edges of her hips and elbows exposed. She lets the excess of her silk gown hover on the floor, never letting it dirty as she walks, as if to protect her vanity.

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I feel the rush of air near my body, as she stops in front of me and speaks with warmth.

“Mauricas Crescendo. We serve all who come”

I catch a glimpse of the priestess's face. She wore a strip of tan cloth over her eyes. Experience told me she could see me clearly and she only appeared blinded from the outside.

“Lead me to the high priest. He has business that concerns me.”

The priestess nods, making sure her humble demeanor wasn't disturbed. I could tell she was annoyed with me by the pattern of her footsteps. She was hoping for my servitude in the bedroom. I didn't want any pit stops. I never do.

“What nonsense....”

The priestess leads me to the main sanctuary. An air of spiritual warmth makes the room feel less empty, than it really was. Swords encapsulated in crystal pillars hold inscriptions of every kind. From the corner of my eye, I could see the swords of my distant relatives. However, I don't stop to look. I was never of close relations with any of my surviving family members. The priests and priestesses resented me for it. You noble lineage was to be upheld, but my family wasn't fond of my eyes, and nighttime wanderings.

The priestess stops about halfway in the sanctuary, making sure to dim the light she held cupped in her hand. She looks back at me, hoping I could see enough to engage my surroundings. She was also trying my patience, taking the scenic route, as if to show off the wealth of the temple complex.

At the end of the chamber, we reach another. After that chamber, I reach another wooden door. I wasn't sure how far I had ventured. Most of the areas filled me with blindness and I tried not to look around. I was going by ear. My mind was filled with apprehension.

The door opens and I am motioned inside. It was a dimly lit area.

“Hospitality.” I think dryly.

“May you enjoy your chosen hunting grounds,” bows the priestess as she leaves.

I stare at her. Then, I grab her arm.

“I won't, courtesan. Your high priest hates me, and your love is no equalizer for it.”

I let go of the priestess and drop a small bag of coins by her feet. She bows to me and I begin to think to myself again. The priestess closes the door. She leaves to go count her coins.

I pause as I look at the high priest. He was sitting on his chair. You could call it a throne, but it works just the same. There were steps leading up to his specialized throne. He wore fine clothing, with robes of brown, gold, and lavender. He held a quill in his hand. I could hear him scribbling. His assistant walks toward him as a blur and then becomes apparent to me, as he hides away in the dark area behind the chair.

I glare at the high priest in blurs and colors. I've seen him enough times before, to know what he is wearing. I was more concerned with what he was doing. We stare at each other, His lights were blinding me and the darkness of the room was making it rough for him to see me. An air of distrust fills the room. I kneel.

“Silence, while I ponder,” bellows the priest.

Time ticks away with every blink of our eyes. Each second goes to waste, first digging into the walls, then my patience, and then my mind. Finally, the high priest looks up at me.

“Well noble Maur, I thought you were never going to show yourself.”

I remain serious. It was something I had a reputation for. No one likes a goofy doofus noble. I'm not an entertainer. I'd rather buy one. The high priest and I look at each other some more.

“I’ve come for my hunting grounds. What lands do you force upon me?”

The high priest looks down at me, ignoring my question. He jots down some final notes on a scroll. He scratches his head. His thoughts collect under his fingernails, I assume. Eventually, he gives me a response.

“Your hunting grounds are those to the west of us. You shall use the wealth we give you to start your noble cause. Raise your swarm Maur Crescendo. We give you the Ryoken lands,” bellows the high priest.

My thoughts stutter. I reply.

“And what is to keep you, high priest, from ensuring I go to such a horrid place? They call us dancer-killers an mercenaries! They know us barbarians and rapists! Maybe I will teach my rivals the art of sharing. I, for one, know The Far Away Dream can create me a swarm.”

“Don’t mock me, Maur Crescendo! If you dare pull your dead weight from any other hunting grounds, you can be assured the others will be sent after you – collectively,” bellows the high priest.

I look at the high priest and dare myself to say something. I don't and hold my silence.

The high priest knew he had me on a leash. I needed his wealth to start my swarm and to pay my flying killers. He needed me to win the people over and fight our wars.

“You may leave now, Crescendo.”

The high priest aggressively waves me off, but I don't budge. Instead, I remain kneeling, letting him wave and wave again. Before the high priest calls for his temple guards, I get to my feet.

“Thank you for you kindness, high one. To the Ryoken lands I go.”