It was three days when Seth was released from confinement. In the three days he’d done nothing but eat and sleep and think—if he could call it thinking. In truth, it was more of his mind thinking at him, bickering like children with grown thoughts.

Other parts of the days were spent studying his room since there was nothing else to do. The ground of clay and rough topography, he discovered was actually something metallic with a deathly cold to the touch. It dissuaded him from doing much in the part of walking since his feet had remained bare ever since Jabari had begun teaching him how to walk. Sadly, certain tasks required he walk on the rough ground.

The wall, with is glittery sparkle and granite visage, was unexpectedly smooth. It was like polished wood. When Seth walked about he often found his attention drawn to it, his left hand gliding across it, fingertips grazing its smooth surface as his feet traversed the rough terrain of the floor. He savored every sensation that came with the touch.

In the mornings, after breakfast, he would practice Jabari’s walking technique. It came naturally now so that he didn’t have to think to do it, each step gliding after the next. Still, Seth gave it a conscious attention.

After the span of an hour, his thighs would hurt and his calves would throb. The soles of his feet would feel almost numb. The numbing sensation was something Seth chose to attribute to the cold. Still, he did what he had to and walked, Jabari’s training a newly imbued habit.

Much could be said about the meals Seth received. Every one of them was hot and full, garnished with spices he had never tasted and pieces of meat as large as his fist. He never complained about this and never questioned it. He ate as the hungry should and drank as was needed. He did not worry for being poisoned, knowing the seminary could kill him whenever it pleased. Still, his minds often advised caution, and, as was the case most times, he ignored them.

Not that they cared.

It was early in the morning, dark enough to be mistaken for night time, when Alnon came for him.

Seth stared at the priest in quiet wonder as his minds bickered and jested. They had grown prone to a greater and more disturbing need to entertain themselves.

Alnon led Seth out of the room without ceremony. He simply held the door open and pointed. On his part, Seth obeyed without complaint since there was truly no reason to.

The path outside the room was a long hallway arched at varying intervals Seth was beginning to think were accurately measured.

The hallway in its long stretch was dark. Its only light came from the soft golden glow of orange lights powered by the torches fastened to the walls.

Alnon’s silence was quiet while they walked, as was all silence. Comparing it to Jabari’s, Seth found it paled, however. He doubted there was a silence capable of matching his odd kidnapper’s. His silence had been deafening.

If silence was a god, it would likely worship Jabari.

This silence, however, was intruded upon by the muffled sounds of Seth’s childish footfalls. Seth walked as Jabari had taught him in an embarrassing attempt at impressing the priest. He hoped the priest would notice and make some comment or the other. Perhaps if he could impress the priest here, his life in the seminary would be easier. So Seth put a portion of his mind to his steps, waiting for some words from the priest, waiting for the man to notice he was good at something. He did not. Alnon ignored him through the journey, eyes focused ahead as he strolled on. Seth’s tiny legs struggled to catch up to his long strides.

The path was not straight in the slightest. Alnon took Seth around corners and bending curves. On more than one occasion he actually paused at a corner before turning down another. During these odd moments of confusion, he displayed the only emotion Seth was beginning to accept him for; mild frustration. This emotion, he displayed in troubled frowns. Seth did not ask questions on it; he simply followed.

Alnon did not offer answers; he simply led.

Seth did not count the bends and turns they made. However, when they climbed the first flight of stairs, he counted that. After the first flight, they took two more corners, four curves, and what he could only describe as a confused turn around. Why? he did not ask.

They took another flight of stairs, one more turn, and a spiraling staircase he found had no support holding it up and he feared would collapse under their collective weight before coming to another pathway. This one was without a wall on its right side, merely masts… or pillars, Seth corrected himself. His time on a ship was clearly affecting his choice of words. These pillars seemed purposed to mark a passing of distance along the walkway. Each one was equidistant from the other, as if purposely measured.

Beyond the path they walked, Seth saw very little. He could make out patches of large fields. Off in the distance there were buildings over four floors high of simple design, wider than they were tall. All these stayed to his right.

Once they were free from the path and the cover of a roof, Seth basked in the feel of the morning air as it hit him on all sides. His time underground, as he was now discovering he had been, had deprived him of even the basics.

Alnon did not take Seth towards the buildings he had seen. Instead, he led him to the left, away from them. He led him down a desire path. The grass on both sides of it were freshly cut and rose no higher than Seth’s ankles.

The path took them between two buildings. They were taller than the ones Seth had seen when they’d come outside. They passed a gate Seth knew with an odd certainty held a larger compound within it. When they arrived at a short black house, wider than it had any right to be and short enough that an unsouled as tall as Alnon could jump and hang from the roofing, Seth knew they had arrived at their destination. Whatever it was.

Alnon knocked against the door, three thumps in quick successions. They waited in silence for a while before he knocked again. This time the knock was louder than the last.

There was a crash and a bang from somewhere inside the house. Seth thought he heard something like cussing but couldn’t be sure. Shortly after, there was ruffling behind the door followed by the sound of an archaic bolt coming undone, then a click.

The door opened inward to reveal a short scraggly man. He was taller than Seth, but not by much. He was a bulk of a man with a chest like a barrel. In the dark, Seth could barely see much of him, and the little light that peeked out of the little gap from behind the man did nothing but mask him in an intimidating silhouette.

“What you want?” the man asked, eyes perched on Alnon. His voice rumbled in a low growl that Seth felt in his chest. Then his eyes turned to Seth and Seth felt smaller than he was.

When the man spoke again, he still addressed Alnon but kept his eyes on Seth.

“He break something already?” the man asked. “That’s got to be a record. What’s it been?” he scratched a mess of beard that belonged in the wild and was long enough to swallow his massive hand, “Four days?”

We think we can grow a beard like that someday? One of Seth’s minds asked him.

Seth didn’t answer it.

“It’s been two days,” Alnon answered the man. “And, no. He’s a new one. He has broken nothing”

The man narrowed his eyes at Alnon before looking back at Seth. “Since when did we start collecting late drops. Did the fool that brought him at least explain himself?”

Alnon’s answer was simple. “I don’t know the fool.”

“Impossible.”

“It would surprise you to know how much I don’t know,” Alnon disagreed. “It certainly surprised me.”

The man combed a hand through his beard and Seth was surprised when it went through smoothly without snagging.

“How’d you get here, boy?” the man asked him.

Seth opened his mouth to answer but a mind interrupted him immediately.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Lie.

The thought came unbidden as it always did, but there was an obduracy to this one that Seth couldn’t quite filch.

“Why?” he muttered, afraid to go into his own mind to have the conversation.

Because no man that disheveled has a beard that kept and unkempt, came the response he believed was not from the same mind.

And we just don’t like him, another mind added.

“I need a better reason or I’m telling,” he whispered back.

He knew the priests could hear him but he feared this level of obduracy from his minds would only worsen if he did not answer them. It was better for the priests to think he was mad than to get lost in his head again or to suffer the pain of bickering minds.

He’s paying too much attention, another mind answered.

Why would the first person Alface brings us to be a scraggly dwarf after three days of starving and three days of feeding? Another mind chimed in. It’s clearly the carrot and the stick approach. They’ve made us let our guard down, now they’ll try something else.

“The food was nice,” Seth mumbled in response. “Maybe they realized they were wrong?”

He knew the chances of his suggestion were zero even as he made it.

We think a Baron did all that just because he wanted to vent out a little displeasure? another mind scoffed. You are being played.

This is pointless, another mind argued. Just lie.

“He right in the head?” the man in the house asked, drawing Seth from his dissonance.

Seth focused again and met the man’s attention. The man was no longer looking at him but at Alnon.

In response, Alnon shrugged. “I do not have the slightest idea.”

The man stepped out of the house and closed the door behind him. Only then did Seth realize he’d been leaning forward slightly despite his height, just to make eye contact with him.

Are we that short? a mind whined.

“No—”

He’s like a fucking dwarf, another mind cut Seth off in something akin to anger, and he still had to bend to make eye contact.

“We’re thirtee—”

Again Seth was cut off by another mind. Derek was almost as tall as father when he was fourteen.

And Jeremy’s almost taller than us.

Oh! the horror! another mind wailed in mock dismay. I knew it. We’re dwarves. We were adopted from some dwarf and midget by mother and father and raised as their own. It’s no wonder Jabari kidnapped us and not Jeremiah.

“Take the boy to Kyle,” the man Alnon had brought Seth to snarled. “Do I look like a healer to you? If he’s broken, take him to a fixer.” He turned away from them and took the door to the house by the handle as he mumbled: “Waking me up late at night for shitty reasons. Y’all should know better.”

Alnon moved fast before the door opened. He placed a single hand on the man’s shoulder, halting his exit, and said, “The Monsignor is already aware of this… whatever it is. The boy is not to see a fixer. He is to be a seminarian, Gareth.”

The information seemed to shake the man’s interest considerably and he turned around to stare at Seth. Seth saw the suspicion in the glance and fought to keep eye contact.

“He saw all this and admitted him?” Gareth asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” Alnon answered.

“You mean he saw…” the man waved a derogatory hand at Seth, dismissing and belittling him in the single gesture. “And still granted him admission? With all the retarded mumbling and nonsensical monologue, and he still admitted him?”

Alnon nodded, a bit embarrassed. Oddly, there had been no judgement in Gareth’s words. It had carried curiosity and nothing more.

Gareth shook his head, flabbergasted. Then he stepped forward, forcing Alnon to take a step back.

“I know the war cost us much,” he said, “but it’s been a long time ago, Al. We aren’t that starved for boys. Don’t we still do the checks anymore? Doesn’t he have to pass the tests? Look at him, man. He looks like he’ll fall off the floor if the wind blows funny.”

Seth bit down on his bottom lip to keep from talking. He reminded himself that these men could kill him with a look if they wished it.

“And yet,” Alnon stated, “he has been admitted into the seminary.”

Gareth fumed at his response. Seth saw the anger rise and Gareth’s eyes flare a bright, deep brown. The man turned, coveted by his own rage and struck the wall behind him with the force of a battering ram.

The sound of the blow boomed like thunder and the shockwave shook Seth at his core, ruffling his unruly hair.

The building, however, didn’t even tremble. Whatever tremors Seth felt, the short house did not share in it.

Then there was silence.

“Reia fueled?” Alnon asked casually after a moment of silence.

Gareth turned, frowning, and nodded.

Alnon returned it with a sage nod of his own. He leaned forward to examine the wall, though Seth doubted he needed to.

“Not a scratch,” Gareth said, dejected. It wasn't a question.

Alnon nodded again. “Yup. Not a scratch.”

“Y’know, I really thought I had it this time.”

Alnon stood up straight and looked at him. “I didn’t.”

Gareth let out a puff of a sigh and suddenly all the anger was gone while he became thoughtful. “I swear he said there’s a trick to it.”

“I don’t think it’s anger, though,” Alnon offered.

“Yeah,” Gareth drawled, dragging the word. “Never seen that bloke angry, not even during the war.” He ran his fingers through his beard, then stroked it. “Alright, then. He need the usual, right?”

Alnon nodded. “Right.”

With that, Gareth turned, opened the door, then disappeared inside.

Immediately, Seth’s minds went into a cacophony, chaotic and unmeasured.

Did you see that?

There’s no way he’s less than Barony.

We’re looking at the wrong thing, one mind pointed out.

True, true. Did we feel that power? We swear we felt it in our hair.

We swear, we’re looking at the wrong thing, another mind pointed out again. Take a look at the wall. Not a single dent.

Fuck the wall.

Are we even thinking straight? It withstood the blow.

We don’t think he put that much force int—

We swear we’ll drown us if we dare imply it.

That was probably all the power.

And it didn’t crack?

Didn’t even cave in.

Seth leaned forward, curious to see.

Beside him Alnon said, “The seminary walls don’t crack. Not normally.”

Impossible, one of Seth’s minds mumbled. Haven’t met a wall that doesn’t crack.

“In our defense,” Seth returned, “we haven’t met a lot of walls.”

He caught Alnon spare him a tired glance before he said, “Something’s not right with you, boy.”

Seth didn’t look at him when he answered. “I know.”

“And have you considered having it checked?” Alnon asked, showing worry for the first time. It was the man’s first real emotion, but it was gone almost immediately.

Seth shook his head. Alnon must have taken it as answer because he said nothing more on the subject

………………………………………….

Gareth stepped out a moment after, mumbling something to himself Seth couldn’t hear. In his left hand he held a sack as tall as Seth’s waist from the ground up. It was a light brown, as if hybridized with a mix of grey. Seth wasn’t sure, as he couldn’t see it clearly in the dark, and the orange light from the room, no doubt a product of fire, didn’t cast it in an accurate enough glow.

Gareth tossed it at Seth’s feet without ceremony and it hit the ground with a muffled clatter.

“Go on then,” Alnon told him with a gesture. “It’s yours.”

Seth approached the bag. He met it in two steps, and squatted. Opening it, he found a rummage of things inside. There was a shirt of cotton that he didn’t need to hold up to know was not his size. There were pants of simple grey, just as the shirt.

The rest of the contents were more attention catching than the clothes. There was a hunting knife perhaps six inches in length. A sword fashioned from wood held up the sack on the side and he grazed its length with his finger. The piece of wood was surprisingly smooth to the touch. Seth rummaged around a bit more, making sure to watch for the hunting knife because while he hadn’t touched its edge, he knew it was sharp.

Deeper in, he found a pair of shoes and was reminded of how long it had been since he’d worn a pair of good ones—or any at all. Quietly his toes wiggled themselves, perhaps in anticipation of finally being protected from the cold and coarse ground.

The boots were hard and rough, likely made from some reia beast or the other, as they made the best materials, though only soul mages made food of the creatures. At the bottom of the pile Seth found something out of place. It was a simple weight of stone, almost like a small ball the size of a grown man’s curled finger. Bringing it up to the little light of the night, he found it was more of a fat coin than a small orb. On one side of it was an engraving of words he did not understand so he turned it to the other side. There he found an engraving of a skull. He had an inkling of what it likely was, or could be, but wasn’t sure. Its symmetry was something he had only heard described in some of Jonathan’s books.

“A dragon skull,” Alnon said, as if reading his thoughts.

Fucking called it, one of Seth’s minds clamored.

No we didn’t, another mind one opposed. We were guessing but we weren’t sure.

Seth turned to look at the tall priest but didn’t say anything.

Perhaps he’s just tall to us., his mind noted for some reason.

Perhaps, Seth was inclined to agree.

Seth kept the coin held up to the light, noting the loop fashioned at its top where a rope would pass. The two priests watched him quietly as he did all this. Alnon, or perhaps it was Gareth, said something he didn’t hear, his attention held by the coin in a deadly allure.

“Gold steel,” Gareth said in a deep rumble.

This one got Seth’s attention and he looked up at him, confused.

“Gold steel,” he repeated. “At least that’s what I was told they call it outside these walls.”

Seth held the coin up higher and let the night light hit it, no matter how little. Its yellow was pale, wrong, and he tried not to let it bother him. Gold steel, he’d called it. It did make him wonder.

He’d never heard of it before.

We definitely haven’t, a piece of his mind agreed.

Seth turned the coin again. If it was gold, wasn’t it meant to glint at the touch of the light somehow? Mother liked wearing gold and they always glinted.

That’s cause it’s gold, not gold steel, they thought.

Seth frowned at the thought.

There was no ‘they’. He was a single person. A single pronoun. It didn’t matter what his messed up minds thought. It didn’t matter how many they were.

He dropped the coin back in the bag and closed it at the mouth. Rising to his feet, He reminded himself that there was no ‘they’ a second time.

He believed it now, but there was an inkling of fear that he wouldn’t believe it in a year, or more. He was not a delusional little boy, he knew just how far he could go before he caved, and he was willing to bet each fragment of his mind knew this, too.

As Seth turned to Alnon, sack in hand, something whispered, lost within his thoughts. It was hidden deep in the silence of his mind he didn’t know he even had. There was something ominous in it and he shivered at the thought.

He’s catching on quick, it said.