In Harafin's quarters at the top of the Sentinel Tower, they ate a late lunch with Leander. An entire table of food had been prepared for them, so Kevlin dug in with a will.

As they ate, the two old men asked him to recount his last visitation from Akillik.

"He's such a meddler," Harafin scowled when Kevlin finished. "No doubt, He'd love nothing more than to damage that amulet of yours, or cause it to be stolen."

"Can he do that?" Kevlin asked, gripping it under his shirt. What would he do if he lost the amulet?

"Don't play His games," Leander said. "Don't give Him the chance to try."

"You mean He won't just decide to do it?"

"Not unless he feels driven to intervene," said Harafin. "His greatest power stems from His Wheel, so He plays His own game with it all the time. People know Him as the god of Luck. He would risk much by breaking His own rules and making a decision without basing it on chance."

"He's trying to goad you into playing the game for Him," added Leander. "And preparing worst-case scenarios for you when you do play."

"What if the Wheel spins in my favor?"

"That's the risk He takes," Harafin said. "But if you fall into His trap and play His game, eventually it will spin against you."

"That would be very bad," Leander said solemnly.

"How do I get Him to leave me alone?" Kevlin asked. He'd been stalked by Savas in Hallvarr. The god of War had attempted to possess his soul. Only by a razor's edge, and the mystic connection with his swordbrothers had he broken free. He wished the gods would just leave him alone.

"It is no simple thing to thwart a god," Harafin said. "Focus on the task at hand. Hopefully Akillik will find something else to amuse himself."

Leander grunted. "That almost scares me more. At least right now we know what he's focused on."

"Exercise caution," Harafin urged Kevlin. "Now, it is time to continue your training."

Kevlin felt a rush of exhilaration with the anticipation of getting magic. He scooted to the edge of his chair, hands gripping his legs to suppress the urge to grab Harafin to make the transfer easier.

He'd tasted magic earlier today, so managed to restrain the urge. When Harafin tossed a small, glowing ball of magic at him, he caught it with forced calm.

As soon as the magic poured into him from the amulet, he raised reinforced battlements around his mind. As expected, the magic bucked against his control and hordes of imaginary Makrasha assaulted his defenses.

Kevlin grabbed his head and clenched his eyes shut as he marshaled his defensive forces and threw his will into defending his mind. Whispers of thoughts floated up from the assaulting force.

Why restrain the power when so much could be done with it?

Why hadn't he thought of that before? Harafin said he needed more magic to blanket the city with the shield matrix and locate Tanathos. Kevlin had all the magic he needed.

He could summon power from Tia Khoa, more power than any Sentinel. At the keep, he had defeated wayra, melted the keep to the ground. Not even Harafin could do that.

Kevlin's resolve weakened and the ravening hordes gained a foothold on the walls of his mind. The thought of again wielding so much power, of saving the city like he had saved Il'Aicharen, appealed to the part of him that liked being hailed a hero.

Sweat beaded his brow as he struggled to decide. He could do so much good. All he had to do was dare to wield that power again.

Then the image of the keep collapsing into a pile of burning rubble rose in his mind. Ceren had nearly died when he destroyed the tower. How many would die if he chose to surrender to these temptations now?

It would be worth it, the thought came. Sacrifice is necessary to achieve a greater good.

Everything crystallized with that thought. Kevlin rallied his will and drove the insidious temptations away. How many innocents might he destroy if he embraced the temptation to hunt Tanathos at any cost? He could never live with such destruction on his hands.

With his will fixed and immovable, the unruly magic settled, once more beaten into submission. He hoped it tired of fighting him before his will broke.

"Are you all right?" Harafin asked.

"Of course I'm not all right," Kevlin snapped. "Why do we keep pretending otherwise? Have you considered what'll happen if I slip?"

"Don't," Harafin commanded.

The destruction at Il'Aicharen had been contained because he'd had a focused target. Here in the heavily populated city, there'd be no limit to the destruction he could cause.

Harafin must have a plan to deal with that eventuality. The old Sentinel always thought ahead, and he never hesitated.

His last word was probably as much a warning as it was encouragement. Kevlin doubted he'd survive if Harafin had to step in during another Tai Pari.

Of course, if the prophecy Ah'Shan had mentioned was real, Harafin might already be planning to sacrifice Kevlin. He wondered how far he could get if he made a break for the door and just kept running.

"I think you need to take Tia Khoa and find its real bearer."

"Think of what you're saying," Leander said.

"I am."

If Tia Khoa chose another, Kevlin's life would be forfeit. He didn't want to die, but he was starting to see there might not be any good way out. Better to end things on his own terms, and not as a blood sacrifice or a mass murderer.

"You know I cannot take it," Harafin said. "You were chosen. The situation is difficult, and part of me wishes it were otherwise, but you are chosen and we must face that fact."

"How can you be so certain?" Kevlin wished he shared Harafin's faith.

"How can you not be? You know it chose you."

"Tell me what convinced you I was the right choice." It had felt right at the time, but now Kevlin doubted the accuracy of his memory. More and more, the situation seemed a terrible farce.

Harafin leaned back in his chair. "As I mentioned on the Ceara, the idea that you might be the prophesied catalyst came as a shock. I have studied for two centuries the clues and signs concerning these days. Against all odds, they began to manifest through you. I will admit it was not easy to consider that we might have mis-read the prophecy."

"What clues?"

"We should continue your lesson."

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"I need to know," Kevlin pleaded. "I'm not a Sentinel, and if I continue down this road, at best I might die without taking a lot of innocent people with me. I need to know why you're so sure, because people I care about are at risk because of me."

"He has a point," Leander said.

"Very well." Harafin paced to the window. "Several things you said echoed passages of the prophecy too closely to be ignored."

"Like what?"

"For example, on the way to the hidden fort you said 'I was born upon the waters of the sea, was forged into a man in the heat of battle, and I've shed blood in every kingdom of the empire'."

"How can you remember that?" Kevlin only remembered because of the strange mood that had settled over him that day.

"Those words echoed one of Antigonus' favorite passages of the catalyst prophecy, the passage he was trying to fulfill by embarking on the journey where you met him."

If only Antigonus had thought that one out longer.

"The prophecy states, O Sea, rejoice! Thou shalt lift the Catalyst in thy waves. An offering of blood shall be received by the lands of thy companions, and all shall lay claim to thee. Battle shall be thy headmaster and form thee in his unyielding crucible."

"That's a little thin," Kevlin said.

"Actually, it's surprisingly close," Leander interjected. "You just have to read past all the flowery language."

"It was close enough that I made the connection," Harafin said. "You made other comments on our journey that echoed other passages, but I'll review only the strongest clue."

"Tell me," Kevlin urged.

"Your swordbrothers."

"Why them?" It was unusual to form a triple swordbrother bond, but not unknown.

"You remember my concern when I saw you used Bajaran's cursed dagger in the swordbrother ceremony?"

"Aye." It was a miracle they hadn't died. That blade, which Kevlin wore in the hidden sheath at the base of his neck, could kill in seconds. It had weakened even Antigonus, leaving him defenseless against Tanathos. Bajaran had died in the forests of Hallvarr, but his blade had found its mark.

Yet, when Kevlin had used that blade in the swordbrother ceremony, it hadn't destroyed them. He had felt something from Tia Khoa, and a strange tingling, but nothing more.

Harafin said, "The prophecy speaks of you, of the Three."

"That's the whole Strength and Cunning thing, right?"

"Exactly. The section in question reads as follows: Look for the Catalyst at the time of the Choices, for a Choice shall deliver unto thee the blood of Strength, and another the blood of Cunning. Through the miracle of life over death shalt the union be created: the One with Strength and with Cunning. Three shall be One, and without the Three, the One shall fall.

"How could you possibly read anything useful in that gibberish?"

Harafin smiled. "Practice."

"So, how does this relate to Jerrik and Drystan?"

"Not only is such a triple oath of swordbrothers unusual, but there is the reference to blood."

That part was easy. They had to cut their hands to mingle their bloodlines.

"The fact that your blade did not kill you is the 'miracle of life over death'. Did you never wonder how you gained the ability to draw upon their strength and cunning?"

"How did you know about that?" They hadn't discussed it in detail, but Kevlin had managed to share thoughts with his brothers a couple of times. Their strength and discipline had helped him defy Savas.

"I spoke with Jerrik about it."

"He didn't mention that."

"I asked him not to."

"Why?" What other secrets was Harafin holding from him? Who else in the company was he counseling with about Kevlin and not telling?

He'd asked Kevlin to keep secret the fact that he was Tia Khoa's new bearer. It shouldn't surprise him that the old man would do the same with others. It just seemed such a waste. Why not get things out in the open?

"I have my reasons. Suffice it to say that the connection you enjoy with your brothers is unique among non-actinopathic. It provides strong evidence that you are, in fact, the Catalyst we sought."

"Why can't prophecies be more specific? Wouldn't it have been simpler if it just said, Kevlin and his swordbrothers are the Three?"

"I've sometimes wished the same thing," Leander admitted.

"They can be cryptic, and require study, ideally by one who also holds the gift of prophecy," Harafin said. "But think about it. If the enemy, who wishes to see the prophecy fail, knew your name, how long would you be safe?"

That was a good point. Then again the Sigrun, speaking through the mouth of the possessed Shadeleech, Merab, had told Kevlin he was marked. They did know his name.

What if they had found him before Harafin did? That was a chain of thoughts that would lead to hiding in a closet.

"It proves frustrating at times, but it is a necessary complication," Harafin added. "Now, back to your training."

Kevlin wanted to explore the prophecy business more. It might provide some clues on how to escape the mess he was locked in. Unfortunately, it looked like prophecies were only useful after events had already happened.

"Today we begin working with the elements," Harafin said.

That sounded like a great way to wreak havoc on an unprecedented scale. It sounded perfect for when they caught up with Tanathos.

They started by conjuring fire. First they lit the logs in the fireplace, then formed it in the air above their hands. Kevlin enjoyed a close affinity with fire. It danced and flickered to his command, each tiny flame dancing in time with the rhythm of life.

These tiny flames paled against the memory of when he'd controlled the towering pillar of fire that brought down the keep and the traitor Wayra. That moment was seared permanently into his mind.

Maybe it was time to live it again?

At the sudden urge, he formed a six-foot pillar of fire in the room that scorched the stone floor. The insatiable hunger of the fire resonated with the desire pounding through him to unleash it upon any who stood in his way.

"Kevlin, control," Leander snapped.

Only then did Kevlin realize what he was doing and snuffed it out. He had to be more careful. The Trembling Madness was so insidious, it was turning him into his own worst enemy.

"It's all right," Kevlin assured the old men. "I'm in control."

"Good," said Harafin, openly calm. "I think it best we leave fire for now and move on to air."

The concept of air as a substance with weight that could be handled seemed strange at first. Then again, winds were strong enough to drive great ships across the sea, and he'd spent the first fourteen years of his life aboard his father's ship learning to harness the power of air.

Handling air without a sail proved much harder than working with fire, or rather it required a more subtle approach. Fire leapt to life at his command and obeyed his will without question, like a well-trained dog. Trying to manipulate air was more like guiding a spirited stallion.

Under Harafin's patient instruction, he managed to form it into a solid wall, or solidify it under objects and lift them off the floor. It required intense concentration that left him as exhausted as a sparring match.

After he lifted a chair to the ceiling and gently lowered it again, Leander said, "When we first entered the Great Dome, you noticed the floating carriage, yes?"

"Aye. That was amazing."

"It uses the same principle."

"Then why isn't it used more often? Why not just fly wagons between cities? Why not fly people?" The idea could revolutionize travel.

"The carriage you saw is unique, the only one of its kind," Leander explained. "It's a gimmick to impress visitors."

"Why not make more?"

Leander said, "You just lifted a chair, and you're exhausted. How long do you think you could fly a wagon?"

"I'm new at this," Kevlin protested. "Experienced Sentinels could do it a lot easier."

"To some degree, that is correct," Harafin said. "But the cost in effort outweighs the gain. Horses deliver wagons safely and with adequate speed without draining the nation's Sentinels."

There had to be a way to apply the principle. Kevlin decided he'd return to the idea once he understood more about magic. If it didn't kill him first.

After a brief rest they moved on to water. He was relieved to find it almost as easy as working with fire. Harafin taught him how to change its temperature, cooling it by bleeding its heat into the surrounding air, and then reversing the process. They practiced filling glasses, creating sheets of water, or scattering it into a heavy fog, which was then thinned to mist before dissipating it throughout the room.

"You cannot just make things vanish," Harafin explained. "You can destroy something if you wish, but cannot just unmake it. Everything has mass, and although that mass can be redistributed, it cannot just cease to exist."

Kevlin frowned. "I've seen you destroy things. You do it all the time."

"I will demonstrate." Harafin pointed at a leftover dinner roll. It floated into the air, then disappeared with a flash.

"You just destroyed it," Kevlin said. A thin wisp of smoke marked the spot where the roll had floated only seconds ago.

"No. I did not unmake the roll. I merely broke it down to its smallest component parts and released them back into the room. There is a difference. I never said it had to take very long. Now, you try."

Harafin instructed him to form a barrier of air around another pastry. He chose a whisperberry muffin. He hated the bitter aftertaste, and its fate seemed appropriate. The idea was that the shield would contain the particles when he shattered the muffin. Then he'd vaporize what remained with fire.

The reality didn't go so well. When Kevlin tried to shatter the doomed pastry, he lost control of the shield and spewed tiny fragments around the room. He grimaced as he wiped whisperberry juice off his face. That muffin had gotten its ultimate revenge.

Harafin cleaned up the mess with a wave of his hand.

Leander just laughed. "Not bad. Better than my first attempt."

"Everyone does better than you did," Harafin agreed. "You failed to damage the apple in any way."

"Well, I did bruise it against the teacher's head," Leander laughed.

Harafin explained. "The apple knocked out the instructor. None of that class of first year Accepted had any idea how to react."

"Trying to explain to the healer what had happened was a low point in my actinopathic career," Leander said.

Kevlin had never imagined these powerful old man as incompetent Sentinels in training. He resumed the exercise a little more relaxed, and managed to successfully obliterate a piece of white cake after only a few more attempts.

Harafin decided they would wait until they left the capital before attempting to practice altering the weather or calling lighting from the sky.

"Good idea," Kevlin agreed.

Harafin rubbed his hands together, "Now, I will teach you Mindlink."