Tim couldn’t help wondering of the Hosanna undertones of this donkey ride to his friends and the cheers of their exhausted celebration. As great as their victory appeared in the present, he now had the greatest target on his back; his time to enjoy the relief of battle’s seaward sway was a fleeting taunt before the next wave came crashing. Its certain return propelled him toward higher risk actions to prepare in time. The dousing of their jubilation would cost a pound of flesh, but his gut told him this was the only way.

First, to show them love by spending a hefty portion of the aura bubbling over the brim within.

He twirled a finger in a bow meant to cease their shrill whistling. “Roz, please, save your strength for the next one.”

His cheeks hurt to smile any wider. The joy of seeing them safe rocked his emotional balance, and in its swell he accepted the blessing their smiles returned.

As one they hobbled together, disregarding the wet donkey and burnt aura stinking huddle it created. Tim cast Battleground at their feet, then successive servings of Healing on Bridges, accompanied by bellowing bray song as though this were the most natural thing.

Evolved new Healing ability: Replenish. Equivalent to full night’s rest, restoring all tier 3 and below status ailments and regen back to 100% capacity.

Cost: 50 MP

Cooldown: six hours

Tim’s nausea evaporated and his aches stabilized. The worst at his low back could use some time and TLC.

Thron’s gashes healed and one by one, the group rose to full height.

Tonda pawed at Tim’s leg. He patted her head. “Good girl.”

She purred and stretched new strength into her muscles as though amid the greatest spa day a cat like her could dream of.

Tim sent a Danger Sense ping on a long-distance ring.

Dryfu landed on his thumb with a flair of his own. “Nice job out of you too,” Tim said. “Thanks for leading them the way you do.”

Gregor and S’Trace’s essence registered in a tunnel on the way to him and away from the aura generator… room. “The aura generator isn’t there anymore.”

“Eeeaaaahh,” Murphy brayed.

A pink aura mist floated off the donkey’s breath, waiting to be caught. Tim absorbed it along with a whispered, Jackass. Had Murphy said that?

His aura channels churned a little warmer and finely curated. “Did you bring the generator with you?” Tim asked the Murphy, scratching his not so dumb head. The donkey, not his own, though he wished he’d have intended to do that. It looked Tim in the eyes and the spark of life in its aura rimmed pink over brown eyes produced an essence like a gorge of aura in waiting.

“Your Ward, Draw, Hunt and Forage skills combined to scoop the generator with the Murphy,” Dryfu said. “The two had become one. And now you have both on four legs. Breath and Carry are his only skills, currently. Breath has an AOE of ten feet. Both can level up. Breath gains heavier mass allotments per gassing, as well as greater distance and forms are available as you level it. Carry can add armor and additional packs.”

Tim saw greater options than that for the beast of burden. He’d become an invaluable medic on the go and even a crafting companion to enhance his aura in the items. “Can it carry through the rings?”

“Yes. It should be able to revert to full aura for ring transfer.”

“Hail, Tim!” Gregor called out, his boisterous voice echoing off the walls with aplomb. “The Murphy is gone and the Krows have teamed with your wraith to push back the goblins and remnant of the Cartel and Artisans.”

Gregor embraced Tim’s forearm in a congratulatory shake. “As soon as the Murphy disappeared, so did they. I sent our forces to chase them a mile out before returning. May the gold shine bright with your honor.”

Gregor let go and examined the donkey with wonder. “What treasure lies within this beautiful animal?”

“Murphy is Warded with the generator intact,” Tim said and patted the donkey's head. “Undercover, so to speak.”

Gregor’s teeth shined white and pink as the donkey blesses him with Breath. “Wow. That will come in handy for more than just your battle stead.”

“I’m sticking with you until you take advantage and start auto firing those aura arrows,” Jil told Tim, an easy smile on her lips and admiration in her beautiful eyes.

“You had me at ‘sticking with you,’ but auto fire sounds good too.” His left wrist had a low burn fever of inflamed arteries from all the arrows he’d already fired. “Shall we return to the surface?”

They exited the underground to a war zone of trees snapped mid length as though a buzz saw had charged into the timber on a long blade. Frog song and the whirling drone of insects conquered this territory from the ashes of war.

“Eeeeaaah.”

Tim rode his stead into the night and raised his gotr blade in acknowledgment of his audience and the aura glow beaming bright enough to light his path.

This was his new home, he decided. From this forest and along this river, behind those walls of the wiry young but Battleborn Squire’s Castle, with its stray aura creatures roaming tunnels with access to unending opportunity for alliances and progress.

Murphy raised its head twice as though nodding agreement.

Tim patted it and rubbed behind an ear. “I see a bright future here. And you’re gonna help make it better.”

“Are you talking to the donkey?” Jil asked.

“Yeah well, I think there’s more in there than he’s letting on. More than just a donkey by far. The Ward keeps him at bay. I think he’ll come around.”

“We still have to get the Jewel to Childockia to claim it for our nation.”

Tim searched the depths of the jewel sitting in a basement of power well below. It longed to nest and begin building. He didn’t have to take it to Childockia. “I have another idea.”

Jil shot him a suspicious side-eye. “Oh?”

Tim volleyed back a sly grin. “Not here. Trust me.”

“I suppose you’ve earned it.”

Krows appeared out of the shadows to form a squad of twenty-six marching back into the castle with Tim at the tip of the spear. Him and his belching donkey.

“We’re a formidable force,” Tim said after a chunky one ended in Murphy swallowing something. He collected the group into the hallway outside Aeu’s sound chamber. Papa Ptolemy hovered beside Travis, Josim and Aeu.

The interior had been sucked dry, though the smell of Tim’s sickness lingered.

“Thank you for joining me in this cramped corner in our humble kingdom,” Tim started, respecting the pregnant stares waiting for what that was supposed to mean. “Squire’s Castle is my new home of operations.” His gaze landed first on Jil, then Gregor and on to S’Trace. All seemed trusting, with Jil showing the most concern. “In my world we have embassies granted sovereign land to an extent, within foreign nation territory. Not only is this the safest way for me to utilize the Jewel for the coming year, it also allows me to access a loophole alluded to by one of the first gatekeeper poets. Thanks to Aeu for the book and training. S’Trace. Gregor. Jil, Thron, Roz, for not killing me when you first met us. Roz, you maybe more than most understand the goodness in Chris and his intentions mean well, if a bit short sighted. We have to stop him before the collection of allies team up with his enemies to keep him from rising to the top.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“Childockia will be a base throughout the year and going forward as I intend to commit to Pilk’s Mantle. I just plan to start here. The tunnelway, the central location; the access to our allies who’re still in immediate danger. Fivel are ripe for the picking by any Artisan or Cartel member with a grudge. We can’t leave. Our Wicker Sea crops are nearby, too. The Krows are here. I intend to join if you’ll have me. Make this a safe haven and training ground for Krows, for locals, anyone on the run from the cartel, the Crimoan, the Council Arms, artisans or whomever.”

“Starting from scratch,” Jil said, “we’re exposed. Childockia has miles of fortified walls and a defensible bottleneck at the peninsula between it and Wachamia. Khempal can send a message on a wing and we’ll get a platoon to meet us by dawn.”

“Jil, I’m sorry. I don’t have time to hide behind old walls and old rules. These are big enough for now. We’re going to take advantage of this fresh chance to write our own order, with each group and tribe represented in these halls. Our aura kin are eager to recruit strays empowered by the generator who split from the Murphy. And then there’s the tomb in Padstoligan which might still be their ultimate target. The leveling power is only one manifestation of the wellspring hidden within. We have to stay close and keep our eye on it.

“COIL is on watch and the Pillar is as guilty as the deals they struck with the cartel and artisans. I don’t care that Wachamia isn’t going to like us being here. The ones I care about will benefit from a salvation that’s nearby and unafraid.”

Tim met their silence as agreement and set the tip of his sword in the grove atop the stair. It fit into the hole left by his trip to the enclave. He activated his Aura Ward spell that he gained from defeating an Enclave.

“Murphy.”

The donkey brayed onto his sword, blessing the blade with a full stream of purple pink aura.

Tim activated Protection. Aura in Aeu’s sound chamber connected Tim to the Protection spells he’d cast before, finding them with a bit of searching but locating the worn trail before long. He slipped into Full Aura and shot through the walls to start a circuit of their perimeter. He started reciting the first poems this world inspired, then on to Gregor’s and a renewed promise to help him with his quest to capture his once-brother, Chane. On his final lap, He wrote another to honor the occasion.

To this city born from vengeance and mercy,

Your goblin infested forest and haunted halls weren’t first choice for a home to start anew. Neither would I be for you if I could give those falls a face and lips to tell your story.

Nevertheless, we’ve slain the dragon and won our prize, the gold of giving through what we’ve been given.

Scarred and torn from my brother yet again, I won’t back down to free him of his fears. Serpents of the dark, I come with light and blade to tear you down.

The nations and races represented in today’s pledge will strive by our side for Protection and opportunity for the innocent, as well as a cleansing fire over those who’d stop us.

Tim’s non-corporeal form soared through the front gate, sealing the spell and his signature to the first charter of Open Arms.

Dryfu, who flew with him in silence until now asked, “what’s “Open Arms?”

He flew through the floor into the basement lounge, passing through the bookshelf and the shoulder-to-shoulder company in the hall.

The several short bursts of interactions with the soldiers’ auras, made chit chat like explaining nuclear fission while jumping between moving train cars, but why not. “Open Arms will be the name of our city, translated into the local tongue. To me, it will always ultimately mean that, both as a sign of outreach to the burdened and to represent the bearing of arms in open to any threat foreign or domestic, as they say back home.”

“So, hoyoriktuk?” Dryfu asked as they slowed to reenter the aura chamber.

“What?” Tim asked. “Did you swallow a small bird?”

Dryfu cocked his head.

Tim shrugged. “What? You’re getting bigger, and it’s not just the armor. I can tell.” Tim rejoined his physical form in a mind-bending magnetic hello that sucked him in and spit him back out with skin. Fading a bit at the edges, but skin nonetheless. He’d need to take it easy after this. Maybe a week or two.

“At least no more boss battles,” Dryfu said, “no matter how much that Jewel tempts you to fill it with XP.”

He wasn’t lying. His body functioned on a new kind of fuel and that jewel had it by the ocean full.

He resisted the temptation to dive in; it needed rest too. They’d have to dig into what exactly Chris did to the jewel, and that was why he enacted part two of his surprise.

“And now for the head of the vahkel,” Tim announced.

Silence captured the moment.

S’Trace did not flinch. He handed over a sea blue pouch richly textured and sealed with golden twine, small enough to fit in his palm and light enough to set gently in Tim’s.

Spirit Memory tickled in his fingers, itching to search the vahkel for power. The vahkel created the Enclave for reproduction and safety to raise her young. Hur tracked the aura remnant of the vahkel’s spell and entered to save his people by killing the threats. Then S’Trace followed Hur into the Enclave to save his brother, and the cycle passed to Tim, now separated from his brother, though both thought they were on the right path.

“A jewel came between us and skipped us off in divergent orbits. I’m casting Aura Ward on the Enclave access to Dosek Montryl.”

Spirit Memory fizzed into the spell and rose up on a c-mana fueled catnado of swirling pink and yellow brown wisps shooting aura like paint on the canvas of his new enclave. On the outskirts of the majestic cyclone, a clear blue sky and the tips of Australian beach trees transported memory into living reality. The smell of fried chicken and a basket of salty fries swept the outline of a shopping center and the corner shop he used to visit. Sippy Downs’s appeared just like he remembered it in living color.

Your Spirit Memory skill is evolving to create its own Enclave like Ajin and the vahkel did. Utilize Spirit Memory to shape it in the image of your past places. It’ll take it from there and grant you an Enclave seed.

Tim remembered S’Trace and Gregor’s advice to move aura without moving. He pretended his hands were reaching into the cyclone. Vibrations and friction burn met them in a strong current. He redirected a channel to form a path—and a doorway—into Padstoligan, exiting into the woods near that two-story house he found outside town. The doorway opened to pitch black and the drone of nocturnal insects and creatures hungry for the night.

Aura Ward succeeded in protecting Ajin’s Enclave access to Dosek Montryl from the doorway in Padstoligan.

Learn Aura Tracks to connect Enclave Gates like a railway.

The aura snapped and kicked him out like a brick to the head before he could evolve that skill. He yowled and rebounded sideways. Jil caught him from hitting the wall.

Tim raised a hand to signal he was okay.

Enclave Seed has been granted.

He gripped his sword sticking out of the step. Strands of his Protection fluttered like candlelight around the blade. “A jewel may have come between us, brother, but I will not repent from my job as your older brother—firstborn with a badge and a burden. Age should only strengthen our bond. I forgive whatever errant judgments set you on your path. I will bridge the gap between us, no matter how far or how dark. Take me or my portion.” Tim felt his prayer turning to the Most High. “Your will, my food. Please take my brother’s fear. Give us all courage to see this mission through, brother or not. Survival… or not. Be with us always.”

Tassels infused with molten aura burned into his hands. Through the flesh, into the aura bed beneath, yet not grotesque. Simply through. And hellfire hot.

Hold tight. This is the mark and cost for what you ask. The Whisper is testing your mantle. Take heart. Tests are good.

It sure was taking its sweet time. No abilities assisted in relieving the scorched earth handshake. Time and cycling his c-mana took a little of the edge off, but his eyeballs floated in hot bathwater.

In a gaseous exhale of heat and agony, the spell sealed like a fine oil onto the stairwell. Black moldings and extracted letters wrote his poems in the native tongue. Soon this room would be refilled to the waist with the heskl nectar Aeu wrote about. Then he would journey into his enclave.

The last of the heat retreated into his blade and finally into the crack. Tim withdrew his sword and held it to the bubbling fervor of his countrymen. Aura surged into Farji to blind Tim from those in the room.

He thrust it into the ceiling, casting Mist to the point where the shining blade entered. The fever pitch erupted in celebration: The Aura Ranger stands, Victor. Together, they would unearth unseen powers and reap a bountiful harvest.

That night, with a feast paid for by the newly richer Khempal, Tim enjoyed her gift of a tart drink meant to draw out the toxins. Relaxing in a sauna a couple of Krows cooked up with two firemancers and a stone wielder, Tim refilled his bronze star-studded cup.

Jil’s playful glare from the other side hinted at something else being cooked up. “The king is gonna want your head.”

“Wait’il he gets a load of Murphy.”

Jil snorted.

Murphy brayed. “Don’t mess with the Murph.”

Tim took a drink to stifle the surprise of his new talking donkey. The sweet bite zapped a warm spell caressing his insides. Yellow-white motes sprouted along his exposed skin to join the steam. The glisten of magic healing Fade added color to his thumb and along his wrist.

Vignyia, sweet Vignyia. What a peculiar place you are.

Jil’s gaze adapted to a different kind of playfulness. She tucked her lips to catch a drop of water. Tim lost himself there for a bit.

This was a blessing he thought never possible. A new home. In trial he’d found purpose and excitement for life. Friends and maybe someone new to love. With these he’d find strength to fulfill his calling. For them, he saw no alternative but victory.

No matter the fight.