March 20th

Year 2120

West of the Village of Berken

Kingdom of Fergahn, Gartaena

Merdilen stood up from the place he was sitting on and looked around. He still was on the top of the ruined tower since three days ago, when he had left Berken. He had Transmutated the sand into a stool, a bedroll, and a little roof. It was all he had been able to do with the sand that was on top of the tower, and he didn’t want to carry stuff all the way from the desert floor, nor Transmutate the stone tower, in fear of it collapsing. Still, it was enough. During those three days, he had just been waiting for the people of Berken to forget the incident, and he supposed they would be calmer now and he would be able to explain his innocence. He again started walking down the King’s Road, same as last time, but slower and more hesitant this time. There were no bandits this time, but now he was afraid of something else.

But he had no reason to, he thought. It would be better now. He kept walking until he arrived close to Berken. He was almost at the plaza when he heard a scream.

“The Transmutator!!” shouted a man, pointing at him. At that moment, all the villagers looked at him simultaneously, gasping, and looking at him with horror and hate.

“You monster!” someone shouted at him from the crowd. They hadn’t calmed down at all. A tomato flew at him from somewhere in the crowd, an act repeated quickly by other villagers. Because of the distance, none of the fruits or vegetables hit him, but he stayed still nonetheless.

“You traitor!” someone else shouted. It was the townmaster, who had been so kind to Merdilen before. “And to think I let you have lunch with me… how could you fool me like that?!”

Merdilen didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. He just stood there as the townspeople released all their hate and anger on him. But then, a man started running towards him with a knife. He was younger than him, and his green eyes were full of determination.

He probably thinks he’s a hero for trying to kill me, thought Merdilen with sadness. But, even though he wouldn’t let the man kill him, he wouldn’t harm these innocent villagers. When the young man got to him, he thrust towards Merdilen’s chest with his knife, but Merdilen blocked it with his hand with ease. He grabbed the blade hard, and it turned to sand. The man looked at him terrified and took a step backward. But instead of counterattacking, Merdilen took advantage of the opportunity and ran away into the woods. He ran without stopping or looking back until he could no longer hear the angry shouts behind him.

Maybe I came too early. If I wait a few more weeks, they will probably calm down, he thought, trying to convince himself of what he knew was probably a lie. He walked gloomily back to the ruined tower and climbed to the top. Although it was a very thick and big tower, it was far enough from the village of Berken that villagers wouldn’t accidentally stumble into it. Here, he had peace.

It was getting late, and so, he ate and got into his bedroll. The last few days had been nothing like what he had expected. They had not treated him as a hero—they had treated him as a monster. But, this had been just the beginning. As they started seeing how he was more hero than monster, they would probably start considering him a hero too. He had just been unlucky. So, trying to comfort himself, he fell asleep.

Kayline and the rest of the Anti-Transmutation Strike Team had been riding for two days, and finally, they were arriving at the village of Berken. It had been a comfortable journey, because as it was March, it was still warm, although summer had already ended and autumn was beginning. They hadn’t talked much during the journey, each preparing him or herself mentally for the incoming battle, until they arrived at the village of Berken.

It lay on an unnaturally flat valley between two upturned mountains, next to a strangely-shaped river. It was pretty small, and they got quickly to the town hall. As it was a small village, horses weren’t common there, and the villagers were staring curiously at the armed and riding newcomers. They dismounted, but before they could knock on the door, the townmaster opened.

“You’re the people the government was going to send, ain’t ya?” asked the townmaster, and without waiting for an answer, added. “Thank god you’re here! That Transmutator’s scared the hell out of us poor villagers.”

“Don’t worry,” answered Sir Grendar solemnly. “We’ll take care of it. Please tell us all you know about the subject.”

“Sure, come on in, come on in,” said the townmaster, re-entering the building, now followed by the Anti-Transmutation Strike Team. The townmaster sat in a chair behind a desk, and the rest sat in chairs in front of it.

“The Transmutator sat on that very chair, y’know,” he then said, pointing at the chair Jarleren, the small rogue, was sitting in. “He first arrived here about four days ago, pretendin’ to be a good guy. He asked me about Jennifer, a woman who had been missing for a while, and then left for the cave some bandits had her in. He was probably thirsty for blood, y’know. In my opinion, he did it because he just wanted ta kill, and used saving Jennifer as an excuse for his bloodlust.

“He left poor old Jennifer and her son completely terrified, and she said he even tried ta attack them, but they ran away. He returned a few days later, two days ago, probably to kill even more people. But he underestimated us. We scared him off with fruits and vegetables, and young Tim even tried attacking him with a knife, which of course didn’t work. I’m sure that if we hadn’t stood up against him, young Tim and the rest of us would already be long dead.”

“That’s terrible,” muttered Kayline. “Were you able to see where he ran off to?”

“None of us was dumb enough ta follow him,” said the townmaster, “but he ran west. There isn’t much that way, just a big desert full of ruins from the Transmutation War, so it shouldn’t be hard ta find him.”

“Don’t worry,” repeated Sir Grendar. “We’ll take care of him. It’s getting late. Thank you for your services, we’ll depart immediately.”

“Thank you very much.”

So, after that short rest, they left riding the village of Berken. Even though they would probably be more noticeable while mounted, if the Transmutator tried to escape, they would probably be able to catch up to him with their horses. Still, she thought they would be able to survive this fight, if not win.

Sir Grendar Bartel’s greatsword, the Bladesmasher, was said to be able to break any sword it crossed, and along with Sir Grendar’s strength, it was unstoppable. Jarleren was extremely stealthy, and he should be able to attack the Transmutator fatally before he even noticed Jarleren was there. Kayline Sherdaine was very fast with her longswords, with extremely quick reflexes. And during the whole time, Salvatore Arneret would be covering them from afar with his deadly bow and arrows. But if this Transmutator was half as powerful as the Transmutators of old, all that would mean nothing. They could only hope he was still weak.

After a little while of riding through a small forest, the trees started disappearing, giving way to desert sand. They got to the desert the townmaster had mentioned. In effect, the Transmutation War had left this desert way more scarred than other places, and most mountains there were overturned, with some giant stone body pieces lying here and there. From the information they had gotten at Cornaler, the Transmutator had been sighted directly west of Berken, so that would be a good place to start looking. They turned away from the King’s Road, and after a while, spotted a partially-ruined tower on the horizon.

They started riding towards it, and after a few minutes, realized it was pretty big. It seemed to have been some kind of watchtower, as it went straight up, with several windows in each floor, battlements on top, and almost no decoration.

No one was in sight, but when they got closer, they saw a lone figure rising and standing to look at them. It was a young man of medium height, with white skin, wild golden hair, and deep black eyes. The last Transmutator. He was wearing a long black coat with white edges, and he had a long wooden walking stick in his right hand.

“It’s not a walking stick,” Jarleren muttered to no one in particular. “Be wary of it.”

“He’s but a boy!” Salvatore exclaimed. “Is he really the cause of all this trouble?!”

“A boy that could probably beat you up in a matter of seconds.”

“He’s no mere boy. He is the last remaining Transmutator, the heir of the ones who destroyed the world, whose kind killed millions,” added Sir Grendar. “We mustn’t underestimate him.”

Then, Sir Grendar gestured silently towards the tower, and they divided. Salvatore headed towards a big rock a little distance away from the tower and quickly dismounted, taking out his longbow in the process. Jarleren rode towards the back of the tower, and Kayline and Sir Grendar headed towards the front, everyone ready to battle.

Merdilen stood up on the top of the tower, looking at the newcomers. He had spotted them from a sideways glance, and it seemed like they were headed directly towards him. That was strange, as there was nothing here, so they were probably coming because of him.

There were four of them: a small man dressed in black and gray, seemingly unarmed; a girl with long red hair, with two thin longswords strapped to her back; a big and strong man with black hair cut short and a massive greatsword in his back, wearing full plate armor; and a blonde man with a longbow and arrows. Merdilen supposed they came to talk about the incident in Berken and he would finally get a chance to explain, so he got hold of his walking stick, but didn’t turn it into the black sword.

He stood at the top of the tower, far from the stairs, and got mentally ready to fight if things went wrong. He stood there for a tense few seconds until he saw something and stepped backward. The big man had jumped out towards him from the stairs, roaring and with his greatsword high in the air. Merdilen raised his walking stick while turning it into the black sword, and was able to clumsily parry the attack. But the man’s strength was too overwhelming, and although the black sword kept up thanks to his Transmutation’s fortitude, his arms soon started to tremble under the pressure, so he jumped backward, towards the tower’s battlement.

The big man swung his massive greatsword towards him again, and as Merdilen wasn’t fully facing him, he was unable to parry the slash with his own blade, so he quickly pressed his left hand against a part of the battlement and jumped to the side. The battlement eroded in the place where Merdilen had touched it, forming a stone wall high enough to block the attack.

Merdilen turned towards him, but before he could take a breather or counterattack, he saw the red-haired girl running towards him with her two longswords ready, and got ready to block. The girl started with a quick slash from the right with her left sword and then from the left with her right sword, and luckily, Merdilen was able to block both attacks. She then slashed sideways with both of her swords at him at the same time, and as he parried the attacks, he felt a sharp pain in his side tearing through his flesh, and saw from a sideways glance the small man dressed in black, wielding a dagger covered in Merdilen’s blood. Merdilen took several steps backward, wincing in pain.

He had already realized these people would not be open to talking. He couldn’t give up. His life probably depended on it. He quickly ran a few steps backward, ignoring the burning pain in his side and forming a small wall that stood in the girl’s way. It wouldn’t give him much time, but it was enough.

As he saw the big man charging him again, he ran again towards the girl, and while touching the ground with his left hand, started forming a small stair going upwards with each step that he took. When he got close to the girl, he jumped upwards, getting a good six feet’s height from the ground because of the stairs. He raised his black sword with both of his hands and got ready to slash down towards the girl with all his strength. He felt two arrows fly past him a few inches from his nape, and ignoring them, fell with exploding force because of the massive momentum.

He slashed down with all his strength diagonally from right to left, and the girl barely blocked it, getting pushed a few feet backward. Her left side was vulnerable now, but as Merdilen had his blade locked with her swords, he probably wouldn’t be able to swing his sword quickly enough to explode that weakness. But a stone would be quick enough.

Concentrating hard, he Transmutated his black sword into a stone the size of his open hand and swiftly tossed it from his right hand to his left. The girl lost her balance because of the sudden change of pressure, and Merdilen, grabbing the flying stone with his left hand, turned it back into the black sword. The girl was completely vulnerable now, and Merdilen slashed towards her neck. But, instead of decapitating her, as he would have been able to, he stopped the blade just a few inches short of the neck.

Everyone froze, none of Merdilen’s enemies wanting to risk moving and him killing their companion. The girl’s eyes widened in shock and fear, and she looked towards the ground.

I won’t kill, Merdilen thought. I will be a hero, not a monster. And, taking advantage of the distraction, he quickly crouched and, touching the ground under him, turned it into sand, letting him fall through the hole under his feet towards the lower floor of the tower. He turned his black sword back into a walking stick and, leaving it behind, rushed towards one of the few windows that still had glass in them with both his hands in front of his body. When he reached the window, he touched the glass with his hands and jumped out.

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The glass Transmutated into stone, and he Transmutated it into a stone bridge that kept growing as he ran out of the tower. After a few feet of running, he jumped out, aiming his body into a small nearby lake. Because of the height, the water would probably destroy his body if he crashed against it, so he curled up into a ball, trying to absorb the damage as much as possible. He could just Transmutate solid matter, not liquid—he wouldn’t be able to Transmutate the water below him. Ignoring the sharp pain in his side the dagger had left and a few arrows that flew past him, he kept falling, rolling in the air. He fell to the lake, and as he was curled up in a ball, he was fortunately able to absorb most of the damage.

As he was curled up in a ball, he didn’t fully crash, and the hit dealt little damage to him. He immediately started swimming towards the other side of the lake, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. But with all the distance he had made in his run and the time it would take for the killers, as he was now calling them, to get down the tower, it’d be practically impossible for them to catch up to him. He had escaped, at least for now.

When he reached the other end of the lake, he half-walked, half-crawled into the forest, and after making sure he was not being followed, he fell to the ground, breathing with difficulty, his head aching terribly because of the excruciating mental effort. But still, he pressed his hands to his side, and after a while, his deep wound started to close and heal, leaving little more than a scar. He couldn’t do anything else with living beings apart from healing small wounds, but for now, it was enough. Even though he didn’t appreciate it at all, he could understand why people would be afraid of his presence, but sending assassins after him? Wasn’t that too much? This time he had been lucky, as the killers hadn’t known what he was capable of, but he didn’t know if he would fare as well if they ever fought again.

Especially since Transmutating always required him to touch things, and he was completely vulnerable while he crouched. But Transmutating at range was something extremely hard and complicated to do. If he could just touch things to Transmutate without having to crouch or compromise himself… He would have to do something about it if he wanted to survive a possible future battle, he thought, staring at his left hand while laying in the forest ground.

“Kayline!” Sir Grendar exclaimed for the third time, finally catching the attention of the shocked girl. “I asked, are you okay?!”

“Yes… yes, I am okay,” Kayline replied. “That’s why I don’t understand. Why didn’t he kill me?”

“He was at a disadvantage,” Jarleren muttered while cleaning his dagger with a handkerchief. “He preferred to stay alive and not killing anyone rather than killing you and dying. A reasonable decision—we would all have done the same thing. That doesn’t make him less of a monster.”

“He looked human to me,” Kayline said.

“The real monsters aren’t always ugly and deformed monstruosities,” replied Sir Grendar. After that, he headed towards the stairs and small walls that the Transmutator had made, and started examining it. “This is incredible. Everything’s completely solid. It looks as it had always been here.”

Those things didn’t look like some kind of weak illusions. They were fully formed objects, Transmutated out of the tower.

“Even though he escaped, we got a lot of information about him,” Kayline said after a few moments. “I’d consider it a success.”

“True,” Sir Grendar agreed. “Let’s go.”

And so they got down from the tower and, mounting their horses along with Salvatore, started riding back towards Berken and then Cornaler as the sun set.

They slept on the village of Berken, and on the afternoon two days later, arrived at Cornaler. They all felt refreshed and relieved, because even though they hadn’t killed nor imprisoned the Transmutator, they had been neither wounded nor killed, and they had gotten a lot of valuable information out of the fight. The general impression was that the Transmutator wasn’t that strong yet and that they would have a real chance of victory the next time they fought. Even though it was getting late, they headed to one of the government buildings first. They had to deliver the information as quickly as possible if they wanted to stand a chance later on. As they entered, all the nobles and servants looked at them surprised and amazed, not expecting them to come back unscathed.

“We got the information we needed, sir,” said Sir Grendar when they arrived at Erthen’s office and saluted, a gesture that was repeated by the rest of the group. “The mission was successful.”

“Excellent!” Erthen, sitting in a big chair at the other side of a desk at the end of the room, said. “What did you find?”

“The Transmutator is still pretty weak,” said Kayline, “and it seems like he doesn’t know how to fully use his powers yet. From what we saw, he can only use the Transmutation on things he touches with his hands for now, which reduces immensely the threat he poses.”

“Yes,” agreed Salvatore. “If we stay away from his hands, we should be okay.”

“But, there’s a problem with that,” said Sir Grendar. “To keep his hands away from us, we should block with our weapons. And, at the end of the fight, he escaped by turning the ground below him into sand. How do we know he can’t turn our weapons into sand? That would render us completely useless and vulnerable.”

“That’s true,” agreed Erthen. “We have to find a way to kill that monster and not die in the process.”

That left everyone thinking, and after a few minutes, Kayline spoke in a low voice.

“But, how do we know he’s really a monster? I mean, he didn’t look as much of a threat yet, and he didn’t try to kill us at all. He could have killed me, but he didn’t. And he hasn’t committed any crimes, has he? We have no way of knowing if he’s actually evil.”

“Tell me, young miss,” Erthen said, as a father would instruct his young child. “If a wolf got close to a flock of sheep, what would the shepherd do? Would he wait until the wolf started killing the sheep to find out if he’s evil or not, or would he kill the wolf before it caused any damage?”

Kayline pursed her lips, but said nothing.

“We’re not doing this out of hate for that Transmutator,” Erthen added. “We’re doing it out of love for mankind.”

“That’s true,” Kayline agreed at last. She couldn’t risk the rest of humanity and her family’s lives to give the benefit of the doubt to a stranger whose kind had destroyed the world.

After that, they gave the rest of the information they had found to Erthen, but it was nothing as important as what they had already said. They got paid, and although the money wasn’t the total yet, as the full payment would come when they killed the Transmutator, it was enough to survive through the month.

“I’m sorry, but I also have to ask something else from you,” Erthen then said, his face serious. “And you’re not going to like it.”

“I’m back!” Kayline announced happily once she crossed the door to their room at The Drunk Warrior Inn. Once again, both her mother and Torlen greeted her joyfully, and she hugged them both.

“We got the information we needed,” she told them, “and I got paid. It isn’t the whole payment yet, but we should be okay throughout the rest of March and part of April.”

“That’s excellent,” her mother said, and then immediately asked. “But, are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

“No, I’m okay, but I have to tell you something…” she said, and after a while, added. “We can’t afford to let this monster free. The government asked us to be away for as long as it takes for us to kill this monster. It shouldn’t take more than a few weeks, though. I’ll be leaving in a few days. And when I come back, we’ll have the full payment and will finally be able to leave this inn for someplace better.”

“But Kayline…” her mother said, worried. “I prefer having you over this big payment by far, no matter how much money it is.”

“Don’t worry,” answered Kayline, full of determination. “Once I’m done with this, you’ll have both.” She didn’t fully know if that was true, but she was relieved to know a deal she had made with Erthen was still up. If they completed the work and killed the Transmutator but Kayline died in the process—which she didn’t intend to—her family would get the full payment. If they killed the Transmutator, no matter what happened later, her family would be able to live in peace, at least for a while.

“What is this monster?” her mother asked at length.

“Torlen, it’s getting late,” Kayline told her little brother. “Go to sleep.”

“But it’s not past my bedtime yet!” protested the boy.

“Torlen,” warned their mother, and so he headed to bed.

“This monster we’re facing…” Kayline started in a low voice once her brother was gone, and hesitated before proceeding, “is a Transmutator.”

Her mother looked at her terrified and gasped audibly as if she was about to faint.

“But don’t worry,” Kayline quickly added. “This Transmutator is still weak and inexperienced, so it shouldn’t be much of a threat. That’s why we have to stop him now, before he becomes a menace.”

“You can’t fight a monster like that!”

“I have to. If it weren’t for those terrible Transmutators, our world would be way better than it is now, and we would live way better than we do now, as there would be more land available for crops and farms, therefore offering an incredibly better lifestyle. They ruined the world. And if we don’t stop them, they’ll ruin it again.”

Her mother kept silent for a while, but then spoke again. “Okay… I-I get it. Just… come back to me.”

“Don’t worry. I will.”

This world isn’t worth saving, Merdilen thought bitterly as he sat in the little shack he had made in the middle of the forest near Berken. It doesn’t even want me to help. Why should I? His first mission as a hero, a few days ago, had been an absolute disaster, and not only did the whole village of Berken hate him now, but they had also sent assassins to kill him. Did he really want to be a hero in a world like that?

Yes, I do, he thought with determination. I have to be strong. Because being strong didn’t mean killing a hard-to-kill monster. It meant taking a hard-to-take path. Since he was a child, he had always wanted to become an adventurer, a hero. His family line had lived in exile for centuries, not doing anything, just trying to survive. He would never say so to his father, but he hated that. Someone as powerful as a Transmutator wasn’t meant just to grow up, get married to some innocent villager, have an only child, and die. It was meant for things greater than that, and he knew it.

Merdilen had once told his father their lifestyle was like a caged lion living in a zoo. It could do amazing things, but it didn’t. His father hadn’t spoken to him for days after that. But his determination hadn’t wavered. As he didn’t have any friends because of living in exile and he was an only child, the only things he could do throughout the day were practicing with a sword, training his Transmutation, and reading.

He read a lot, and he discovered countless great heroes who rose up to the challenges the world made them face, no matter what. As every child ever, he wanted to change the world, but unlike most children, he knew that thanks to the Transmutation, he would actually be able to. He knew he could do that. He saw no reason to waste his life living in a big mansion forever.

His father never understood his desire to leave their peaceful lifestyle, but as he had bore Merdilen when he was pretty old, Merdilen didn’t live much with him. Just a few months ago, Merdilen had sat next to his deathbed as his father suffered from the sicknesses of old age. As the generations went on, the bloodline of the first Transmutator had become mixed and defiled, and therefore, the power had been majorly lost. And as the whole family line had just been living in exile, no one had done anything to recover the power. Therefore, the secrets to eternal life, to limitless Transmutation, and to the alteration of living beings, had all been lost. Therefore, all of them were doomed to die, wielding the power but not using it. But his father had understood Merdilen at the end.

Be a hero, he had told Merdilen. Go out into the world and demonstrate how amazing you are. Become the hero we both know you can be. And so he intended to do. He wouldn’t give up his childhood dream because a small village didn’t like an ancestor of him that lived centuries ago. And if he wanted to be a hero, he would need more power. Most Transmutation abilities, like Transmutating at range or Transmutating living beings, were still far away from him, but there was something he could do. He couldn’t allow himself to show any weaknesses during battle. He pressed his hand hard against the ground and concentrated.

Transmutated from the ground came a long glove of fine but strong black cloth, that covered Merdilen’s left arm completely up to the elbow. It was full to the brim with compartments, all filled with compacted sand. As the cloth was very thin, it was as if his left hand was touching the sand, and therefore he could Transmutate it. With this, he would be able to Transmutate the sand that was in the glove’s compartments into anything as big as a space completely covered by it without having to crouch and become vulnerable to attacks.

He spent the best part of an hour practicing with his new glove, because as it was already morning, he hadn’t thought of anything better to do yet. But as he Transmutated the glove’s sand into various things, he suddenly started feeling an eerie sense of danger. As Transmutation involved connecting one’s mind to the world to alter the physical composition of things, sometimes when one spoke to the world, the world spoke back. He could sense changes in balance or the atmosphere, as he had to be permanently attuned to his surroundings to be able to Transmutate. And he didn’t like what he sensed now.

He felt a chill running down his spine, and a heavy and cold presence lingering somewhere south that made it feel as if someone had turned off the sun. He grabbed his walking stick, turned it into a black sword, and got up from the rock-Transmutated-into-chair he was sitting on. He started walking warily towards the evil presence he felt, earnestly looking around. He walked towards the south of Berken for the better part of an hour, determined to find whatever was irradiating that presence. Although he had been walking for a while, he felt the unmistakable presence ever stronger and closer to him, so he was certain he would get to it any moment now.

He had been walking through a forest, and when the presence’s intensity reached its peak, he saw a massive black figure a few dozens of feet away from him. He crouched and walked stealthily towards it to get a better look at the thing he was facing. It was a massive pitch-black beast with no glow or shadow in its body, only black. It looked like a massive hyena, with large claws and sharp fangs. If it had eyes, they were indistinguishable from the rest of the body. It was a shadow monster.

Shadow monsters were horrible abominations left from the Transmutation War, unnatural creations that were never meant to exist. They were the remnants from the armies the Transmutators of old once had. At the end of the Transmutation War, one of the Transmutators died and the other one disappeared, but their armies had remained, and it was rumored large numbers of shadow monsters still roamed the southern wastes of the world. Although Berken was far from the southern wastes, Fergahn was in fact the southern kingdom, and as the western and southern limits of Fergahn were mainly poor, it was possible that a shadow monster had found its way here.

Shadow monsters were incredibly strong, way stronger than any other beast, and if one of them reached the village of Berken, it’d probably be catastrophic. He couldn’t allow that, could he? Those villagers clearly hated him, and they wouldn’t want him to try and help them at all. But he wanted to be a hero. And he would be. He had to kill this shadow monster before it harmed the innocent villagers. He knew they probably wouldn’t thank him, much less treat him as a hero as he had hoped when he had first arrived at Berken, but it was the right thing to do. He had never fought nor seen a shadow monster before, but there was a first time for everything.