Novels2Search

1.8: Projection

The shard of glass whistled through the air, its jagged edge glinting in the late afternoon sun. Somadina's eyes widened as he twisted his body, the makeshift projectile missing him by a hair's breadth. He staggered backwards, his feet kicking up small clouds of dust from the parched earth of the training ground. The acrid scent of his own sweat mingled with the ever-present aroma of sun-baked grass that permeated the air of the Green Sea.

Somadina's gaze darted from the metre-long shard now embedded in the ground to Kainene, her lithe form silhouetted against the golden sky. His mouth opened and closed, words failing him as he tried to process what had just happened.

Finally, he found his voice. "Father protect me," he breathed, the invocation to the Creator slipping out almost unconsciously. He fired off a glare in Kainene's direction, his heart still racing. "What was that? You could have killed me!"

But Kainene stood unrepentant, her orange eyes blazing with an intensity that matched the setting sun behind her. The intricate fox soulmark on her neck seemed to shimmer with barely contained energy. "That's the point," she retorted, her voice carrying a mix of frustration and concern. "It's been five days, Somadina. Five whole days, and you've been unable to cast a single Seal."

Somadina frowned, still a little out of breath. He could feel the ache in his muscles, a constant reminder of the gruelling training regimen they'd subjected him to since discovering his unique situation. "I'm trying," he said, the words coming out more defensive than he'd intended.

And he was trying. By the Father, he had spent little time doing anything else. The camp they'd set up at the edge of a small copse of trees had become both haven and prison, a place where hours blended into days as he struggled to grasp the fundamentals of Seals—the magic that came so naturally to others but remained frustratingly out of reach for him.

Olisa's words echoed in his mind: Visualize and cast. The mantra had been drummed into his ears repeatedly, but putting it into practice was proving to be a Herculean task. Somadina had spent countless hours scratching Seals into the dirt, trying to commit their intricate patterns to memory. But each time he closed his eyes, the image would slip away like water through cupped hands.

It didn't help that the Seals belonging to the Taleweaver were some of the most complex ones out there. Mist Garden, the Adept level Invocation Seal he was currently attempting to master, was meant to summon illusionary fog around the user. But its design—a dizzying array of swirls, columns, and loops—made his head spin just looking at it.

"You're not trying hard enough," Kainene said, crossing her arms. The movement caused the soulmarks on her skin to ripple, a subtle reminder of the vast gulf in ability between them. "You need to be able to protect yourself. How are you supposed to do that when you're not taking any of this seriously?"

Somadina felt a flare of frustration. "Gods above, Kainene. I am," he insisted, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "But dream anwansi... it's hard to channel. And the Seals..." He paused, an idea forming. "If I had a staff, I could—"

"No staffs," Olisa interjected. He was perched on a nearby rock, his expression a mixture of disappointment and concern. The setting sun cast long shadows across his face, emphasising the worry lines that had seemed to deepen over the past few days. "We've been through this. No staffs until—"

"I've learned to cast without one," Somadina finished, unable to keep the frustration from his voice. "I know. I've only heard it a thousand times." He sighed and rubbed his aching head, feeling the beginnings of what promised to be a monumental headache. "Just cut me some slack, will you? I'm still new to all this."

Kainene's gaze didn't waver, but something in her expression softened almost imperceptibly. The tension in the air was palpable, broken only by the gentle rustle of leaves in the evening breeze and the distant calls of unfamiliar wildlife.

"Fine." Somadina let out another drawn-out sigh, his shoulders sagging in resignation. "Let's try again."

What followed were five long hours of pure, unadulterated misery. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon by the time it was over. The stars were peeking out, twinkling in the deepening twilight and utterly indifferent to the struggle playing out beneath them.

Somadina found himself spread-eagled on the ground, the cool earth a small comfort against his aching body. He had lost count of the near-death experiences he'd had throughout the gruelling session. Each failed attempt to cast Mist Garden had been met with increasingly creative "motivational techniques" from Kainene, ranging from hurled rocks to surprise attacks that left him gasping for breath.

Olisa's face loomed over him, lips turned down in a frown that spoke volumes. "It's not enough Somadina," he said. "Nowhere near enough."

The words stung, but Somadina didn't have the strength needed to make a rebuttal. He just lay there, trying not to groan too much as every muscle in his body protested the day's exertions. The night air was cooling rapidly, a stark contrast to the heat of the day, and he could feel goosebumps forming on his skin.

A familiar screech pierced the air, and Somadina turned his head just in time to see Rai swooping past. The soul beast's white wings were stark against the darkening sky, almost luminescent in the fading light. She dipped lower, circling once before apparently making a decision. After taking one look at Somadina's supine form, she veered away, heading instead for Kainene. With graceful ease, she alighted on Kainene's shoulders and promptly went to sleep, her feathers ruffling slightly in the evening breeze.

Wonderful, Somadina thought bitterly. Even my soul beast thinks little of me. He turned his head, catching a glimpse of Kainene's frowning face in the gathering darkness. The sight of her concern mixed with disappointment was suddenly too much to bear.

With a groan, he pushed himself to his feet, ignoring his protesting limbs. He staggered over to where their supplies were stacked, seized one of their empty satchels, and began walking away from the impromptu training ground.

"Where are you going?" Olisa demanded.

"Away," came Somadina's firm reply. He didn't turn back, afraid that if he did, his resolve might crumble. "Someone needs to gather what we'll eat tonight. And I need some air." He picked up the pace, the empty satchel dangling over his shoulder, its familiar weight a small comfort.

As he walked, leaving the clearing behind and entering the surrounding grasslands, Somadina heaved a small sigh of relief when he heard no footsteps following him. The tall grasses of the Green Sea whispered around him, and in the distance, unfamiliar animal calls echoed in the night. Despite the inherent dangers of the world beyond their camp, at that moment, Somadina welcomed the solitude. It was a chance to clear his head, to escape the weight of expectations—if only for a little while.

The moons were rising, casting an ethereal glow over the landscape. As Somadina ventured further into the night, he couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere out there, beyond the reach of his understanding, lay the key to unlocking the power that slumbered within him. With each step, he silently vowed to find it, no matter the cost.

***

Kainene waited until Somadina's figure had shrunk to a distant speck on the horizon, his footsteps no longer echoing through the dense grass. Only when she was certain Somadina was well out of earshot did she turn to her companion and ask in a hushed tone:

"How many?"

Olisa stood motionless, his head tilted slightly to one side as if listening to something beyond human perception. His multicoloured eyes sparkled with an otherworldly light, aglow with the power of a cast Seal.

"Hard to say," he replied after a long moment, his voice barely above a whisper. "They're trying to keep themselves veiled. My senses tell me two, but Echolocation says there's at least four. All Disciples."

As if on cue, Rai, Kainene's soul beast, let out a plaintive yowl. The sleek, silver-furred creature leapt gracefully from Kainene's shoulders, landing silently on the moss-covered ground. With deliberate movements, Rai scratched five distinct marks into the soft earth.

Olisa's eyes widened slightly. "Five, then," he amended, a note of concern creeping into his voice. "Meaning one of them is at least an experienced Practitioner to be able to obscure them this much."

Kainene knelt beside Rai, running her fingers through the creature's silky fur as she considered the implications.

"What's with the smoke and mirrors?" she wondered aloud, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Savage clansmen aren't known for their subtlety. They should have attacked instead of stalking us all morning. Why hesitate?"

Olisa's gaze drifted to where Somadina had disappeared, now barely visible through the thick foliage. "Could be because of him," he mused, gesturing with his chin. "Two peak Practitioners travelling with a soul beast that's clearly bonded to an Adept, or what, in their minds, looks like an Adept. They probably think it's a trap."

Kainene hummed thoughtfully, absently tracing patterns in the air with her fingertips. A faint, shimmering trail of energy followed her movements, dissipating like morning mist. In the distance, Somadina appeared to have discovered something of interest. He was bent over, carefully excavating the ground instead of yanking at whatever he'd found, as he might have done in the past.

A pang of guilt shot through Kainene. It probably hadn't been wise to let him storm off like that, especially with potential enemies lurking nearby. But she wasn't overly worried. They had a rough idea of the rival dibias' positions, and Somadina was close enough for them to intervene if trouble arose.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as Somadina finally unearthed a large yam, performing a small victory dance. The sight warmed her heart, but it also stirred a nagging doubt that had been growing for some time.

"Do you think we are too harsh?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the rustling leaves.

Olisa was quiet for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. "Most likely," he said slowly, carefully choosing his words. But that was Olisa – always measured, always contemplative. The only times she'd seen him emerge from his shell and truly relax were when he was with her and, increasingly, with Somadina. It was a development she found herself quietly pleased about

"Most likely," he repeated, his gaze distant. "But Kainene, you know it's necessary. He's not ready. If he steps foot in Sinikat, let alone the Tower as an Adept…"

He trailed off, but there was no need to finish. They both knew the dangers that awaited an unprepared Adept in the cutthroat world of dibias. The image of Somadina being torn apart – figuratively or literally – by those seeking to exploit any perceived weakness made Kainene's stomach churn.

"We should take it down a notch though," she conceded, her voice heavy with concern. "For his sake. He's not used to training this hard."

Like us. But she left that unsaid. She knew it was also on his mind.

"It won't help if he's too busy being resentful of us to focus," Olisa added softly. "And you know dream anwansi is hard to work with."

Kainene sighed, her breath stirring a few fallen leaves at her feet. The complexities of dream anwansi were well known to her, despite its rarity. As a noble raised in the Courts, she was intimately familiar with the mechanics of all fifteen types of anwansi. Dream was arguably the most challenging affinity to master, and looking back, they probably should have tried harder to dissuade Somadina from bonding with the Taleweaver.

But it had been so easy to get caught up in his excitement, to lose themselves in the pure, unbridled joy of witnessing a bonding free from the suffocating expectations of politics and duty. As she watched Somadina's distant figure slowly making his way back, a sense of foreboding settled over her like a heavy cloak.

"I just don't want him to die," she whispered, her voice catching slightly.

Olisa stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace.

"Me too, Kainene," he murmured into her hair.

Rai pressed against their legs, adding her silent support to the moment. And gtogether, the three of them watched as the Adept they had taken under their wing made his slow, triumphant return through the sun-dappled forest, blissfully unaware of the challenges and dangers that lay ahead.

***

That night, Somadina dreamed of a universe aflame. He floated in the vast expanse of space, thunderstruck, as entire worlds crumbled before his eyes. These weren't mere planets, but colossal spheres of existence, each one teeming with life and magic. They caved in and cracked open like giant, celestial eggs, their fractured surfaces revealing swirling cores of golden light.

From these ruptured worlds spilled forth yolks of thousands—no, millions—of glowing souls. Each pulsing with raw anwansi, the mystical force that held all of creation together.

But his wonderment quickly turned to horror as gaping, hungry maws materialised from the darkness of space. These things—for Somadina's mind struggled to comprehend them as creatures—defied description. Their bodies were an ever-shifting mass of asymmetric, complex limbs in shapes that made his head throb with pain. They flexed and pulsed as they fed, consuming the Seals with terrifying efficiency.

A chill ran down Somadina's spine as he realised these entities bore a chilling resemblance to the Aberrations. But then, comparing those mundane things to these cosmic horrors was like comparing a torch to the sun—an inadequate analogy that failed to capture the sheer scale of their menace.

As Somadina watched, paralyzed by fear and fascination, the ravaged world finally gave in to the assault. It imploded with a silent scream, expelling vast clouds of dust and rocky debris in all directions. The scene was both beautiful and terrifying, like a cosmic flower blooming in reverse. But the world-eating monstrosities showed no pause, already closing in on another unsuspecting planet.

Just as despair threatened to overwhelm Somadina, a new player entered the cosmic arena. A star burst into existence, its radiance a deep, mesmerising indigo that seemed to sing with power. It hurled itself at the world eaters with purposeful intent, a guardian of creation rising to the challenge.

The entities screamed—a sound that Somadina knew would haunt his nightmares for years to come. It was a cacophony of despair, rage, and fear that transcended the vacuum of space and pierced directly into his mind. The world eaters tried to flee, their amorphous bodies contorting in ways that defied physics.

But not all of them escaped the star's wrath. The unlucky few caught in its radiance were twisted and stretched by a litany of Seals that materialised around them. Somadina watched in awe as the star's power forced those formless bodies into smooth, thread-like structures. Then, in a display of creation to counter the previous destruction, the Seals shifted position. The threads began to weave themselves together, indigo light dancing along their surface like living embroidery.

Before Somadina's eyes, a new world took shape. It was smaller than the one that had been destroyed, but no less breathtaking. Oceans formed from swirls of deep blue thread, while continents emerged in patterns of green and brown. Tiny pinpricks of light suggested the birth of new civilizations, each one a potential cradle for people like himself.

As the newborn world settled into its orbit, the star's brilliance dimmed. Its light coalesced, resolving into an immense form that Somadina recognized in an instant—the Taleweaver. The cosmic entity's avian face was still a masterpiece of celestial beauty, its eyes pools of wisdom that had witnessed the birth and death of countless ages.

The Taleweaver watched the fleeing world eaters for a moment, its gaze filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination. Then, to Somadina's shock, it turned its attention directly to him. Surprise flickered across the entity's features, as palpable as a sudden gust of wind.

"Dream Walking? Already?" The Taleweaver's voice resonated through Somadina's very being. It peered at him, and Somadina felt laid bare before its cosmic intellect. "You are not ready to see this. Another calls you. Go to him and forget what you have seen. She must not know your world is aware of the Apotheon. Not yet."

Somadina's mind reeled with questions. Who was "she"? What did it mean that he was "Dream Walking"? He opened his mouth, intending to voice his confusion, but the gentle flap of a wing the size of a large continent swept him away before he could utter a sound.

He spun into the darkness, the cosmic tableau already fading from his memory like mist in the morning sun. The terrible monsters and the majestic Taleweaver became indistinct impressions, slipping away despite his attempts to hold onto them.

With a jolt that seemed to rattle his very soul, Somadina found himself in a new dreamscape. He stumbled into a dusty room, its air thick with the scent of old parchment and lingering magic. The space was almost completely overrun by sculpted stone statues, each one depicting figures of legend that Somadina half-recognized from his studies. Interspersed among the statues were devices of unknown purpose, humming with barely contained power. Glyphs and scripts carved into their surfaces pulsed with a familiar indigo light.

At the centre of this cluttered sanctuary stood a man—if such a frail figure could still be called that. He was ancient, his skin a map of wrinkles that spoke of centuries of life. A white beard cascaded down to the floor, its strands moving slightly as if stirred by an unfelt breeze. In his gnarled hand, he gripped a long, intricately carved staff that seemed to be the only thing keeping him upright.

The old man looked as if he might keel over at any moment, his body a fragile vessel for what Somadina sensed was an immense well of power. Then those eyes—bright, indigo orbs that mirrored the cosmic star—fixed upon Somadina's face. That gaze froze him in place, pinning him as surely as a butterfly to a collector's board.

Thin, iron chains scraped against the stone floor as the ancient figure hobbled towards Somadina. Each step seemed to cost him dearly, yet he pressed on with grim determination. As he drew closer, Somadina could make out faint, glowing scripts etched into the chains—Enchantments of binding and prophecy that pulsed in time with the old man's laboured breathing.

The man's face was now inches from Somadina's own, close enough that he could smell the musty scent of age and power that clung to him. Those indigo eyes bored into him, filled with a desperate urgency that made Somadina's heart race.

"Find me," the old man whispered, his voice a dry rasp that seemed to echo with the weight of eons. Before Somadina could respond, the darkness rushed in once more, sweeping away the dusty room and its enigmatic occupant. He tumbled through the void, the whispered command echoing in his mind as the dream world dissolved around him and darkness claimed him once more.

***

Dawn broke over the world with a softness like a smile and Somadina stirred, blearily nursing a vicious headache that pulsed behind his eyes. He felt terrible, as if he'd eaten a particularly potent batch of giggleweeds, those notorious hallucinogenic spirit plants known for their vibrant purple flowers and mind-altering effects.

But I don't remember spotting any, he thought, trying to push through the fog in his mind. They're not that hard to miss. And they couldn't have grown out here. It's not wet enough.

Somadina rose to his feet, wincing as the world tilted momentarily and pressed his palms against his eyes, willing the pain to subside. Fragments of a dream lingered at the edges of his consciousness—a room filled with ancient artefacts, a frail old man with eyes that burned like stars. And a command: Find me.

The headache surged, driving the fading images further from his grasp and Somadina decided that a bit of food and rest was in order before he could make sense of anything. He turned towards their satchels, taking a deep breath of the chilly, early morning air as the Savage Lands awakened around him in a symphony of rustling grass and distant animal calls .

Kainene and Olisa slumbered nearby, their mouths open in synchronous snores. The sight brought a small smile to Somadina's face, momentarily easing the tension that had built between them over the past weeks and for a moment, he considered talking to them about it all. But it was rude to wake them just to tell them about the dream he had had. One which he didn’t even remember fully. Plus, he was fairly sure the moment they were up things would continue as it had yesterday and he wasn’t keen on getting yelled at and informed repeatedly how he was a failure as a human being.

Instead, he carefully stepped over their sleeping bodies and bent to inspect their supplies. True to form, they had left the restocking of food until they'd run dangerously low. After yesterday's exhausting training session, he'd been too drained to do anything more than harvest the lone yam he'd stumbled upon. Sighing in exasperation, he once again took up a satchel and set out in quest of more substantial fare.

As he passed by a short papaya tree, Rai yawned from her perch among the branches but didn't fully wake. Somadina paused to pat her soft head, drawing comfort from the familiar texture of her fur.

Their camp overlooked a salt pan, currently host to a herd of buffalo. The massive beasts raised their great heads to consider the passing human, their horns cutting imposing silhouettes against the brightening sky. A small nation of oxpeckers and other birds trailed in their wake, creating a living, moving ecosystem. Thankfully, after a moment's scrutiny, the buffalo decided Somadina posed no threat and returned to lapping up the mineral-rich salt deposits.

In the distance, movement caught Somadina's eye and he squinted, making out the sleek forms of what he thought to be a pride of lions creeping after a browsing giraffe. The predators were far enough away that he wasn't overly concerned, but their presence served as a reminder of the constant dance of life and death that played out on the savannah.

Somadina knew from his maps that they were close enough to the Green Sea for wildlife to be more abundant, but not so near as to encounter the truly dangerous animals and soul beasts that called that place home. He shuddered, imagining the terrifying creatures that dwelled in those uncharted lands—beasts like the aggressive baboon-vipers and the elusive leopard-crows, known for snatching up unwary travellers and devouring them alive.

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

Sweet birdsong floated down from the acacia trees scattered across the landscape. Brightly coloured sunbirds and weavers flitted from branch to branch, their plumage a riot of yellows, reds, and iridescent greens. They sang to each other in welcome, shaking their little tails in displays of avian courtship.

The sight brought a bittersweet smile to Somadina's face as he remembered the Seal Olisa had cast for him, back when their training had been filled with wonder and excitement rather than pain and frustration. It seemed so long ago now, that moment of shared joy and discovery.

Intellectually, Somadina knew their hearts were in the right place. He was far too weak to have any business approaching the Tower, and they were fast-tracking his training, trying to compress what should have been months—years, even—of careful study into a few intense weeks. It was a minor miracle that they hadn't been attacked by bandits or wild beasts already, and he knew it would be difficult for Kainene and Olisa to defend themselves while also protecting him.

The thought made Somadina's throat go dry, a familiar tightness settling in his chest. It was a feeling that, historically, had never ended well for him or those he cared about. But thinking about his mother and what had happened was still too painful, so he let his mind flee from the memories, trying to ignore that nasty little voice that whispered of his inadequacies.

They will die in battle trying to save you, it hissed. And, like always, it will be all your fault.

Somadina shook his head vigorously, as if he could physically banish the dark thoughts and forced himself to focus on the puzzle of his affinity, the key to unlocking his potential as a cultivator. Yesterday, while waiting for the yams to come to a boil, he had pored over the Testament, searching for answers. He'd come across a passage detailing the true nature of dream anwansi, the mystical energy he hoped to harness.

According to Omaliko, the ancient sage whose writings formed the foundation of their magical understanding, dream was the anwansi of the mind, of change. It was most potent at dawn and twilight because those were the times when the world itself was in transition. Most people, when thinking of dream magic, began and ended with illusions, never stopping to ask how those illusions were actually created.

The proper dream dibia knows his power lies in not just affecting his and others' minds, but also the world around them, the passage had stated.

Somadina had turned these words over in his mind all night, unsure how to use this information to break through the block he was experiencing. But he refused to give up. There was a trick to this he was missing, and he was determined to find it. He hadn't waited eighteen years, enduring the whispers and sidelong glances of those who thought him pathetic, just to falter now.

Satisfied with that train of thought, bolstering his resolve, Somadina turned off the well-worn path onto a small field that looked promising. As he drew closer, he realised it was a patch of maize, the slender green stalks stretching well above his head. When he bent to inspect the lower cobs, a gentle breeze swept through the field, making it look as though the plants were bowing to him in reverence.

He reached for one of the cobs, twisting it off with practised ease. But as he did so, a sudden change in the atmosphere made him freeze. The world had gone silent, the way it often did when a predator was nearby. All the little background noises of the savannah—the birdsong, the rustle of small animals in the underbrush—had vanished in an instant.

A soft crunch was his only warning. Somadina stood and turned in one fluid movement, taking a slash that had been meant for the back of his head across his cheek instead.

Pain exploded across his face, and he fell back with a cry, landing hard on the unforgiving ground. Through watering eyes, he saw five figures looming over him, clutching crudely made cutlasses. Their clothes were fashioned from animal hide, hugging bodies the colour of sun-baked clay. Ragged war paint slashed across faces that looked as if they had been chiselled from the very stone of the Lands themselves.

Somadina stifled a whimper as realisation dawned. Savage clansmen. Behind him, several maize plants toppled to the ground, cut clean through by the attackers' blades. He noticed the dull, grey sheen clinging to their weapons—the unmistakable sign of blade anwansi. This couldn't be good.

One of his attackers, a lanky man with half an ear missing, paused at the sight of Somadina's cowering form. He peered closer, his eyes widening in surprise.

"End take me," he said, his voice a gravelly rasp. "He really is an Adept."

"Doesn't matter," replied their leader, a woman whose face was marred by a nasty slash that ran through her left eye and down her neck. Her voice was cold, devoid of mercy. "Outsiders aren't welcome here. Gut him."

As the clansmen closed in, Somadina's mind raced. He had no weapon, no way to defend himself. His fledgling grasp of dream anwansi seemed woefully inadequate in the face of such immediate, physical danger. But as the leader raised her blade, something stirred within him—a desperate, primal need to survive. And in that moment, on the knife's edge between life and death, Somadina felt the first true stirrings of his power and knew then he had to do something or die.

He closed his eyes, shutting out the menacing figures looming over him, and reached deep within himself. This time, he switched tactics. Earlier, he had been trying to physically create the mists, mimicking the way Kainene summoned glass or Olisa manipulated sound. But now he understood—the technique didn't work like that. It was never supposed to work like that.

Instead of focusing on the world around him, Somadina turned his attention inward, to the minds of the clansmen he was trying to influence. He visualised their consciousnesses as delicate, shifting patterns, ready to be altered by his will.

"Mist Garden," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart.

And the Seal answered. A quarter of the anwansi in his core vanished, the mystical energy flowing out of him in wisps of indigo fog and an ethereal mist bloomed to life at once, seeping into the eyes and ears of his attackers. A quick spiritual scan earlier had told him he was surrounded by three Disciples and two Practitioners, so at best his Seal would blind them for only a second or two.

But a second was all he needed.

The savages recoiled in surprise at the sudden assault on their senses and Somadina seized the opportunity, scrambling to his feet and diving into the dense maize field. The stalks whipped at his face as he ran, leaving stinging welts across his skin. Behind him, he could hear shouts of confusion turning to rage as the clansmen recovered from his spell.

Away from Olisa and Kainene, a traitorous part of his mind whispered. It's happening all over again.

Despair threatened to replace the brief thrill that had accompanied successfully casting his first Seal. A rush of air raced past his ear, and he instinctively ducked left, narrowly avoiding a slice of blade anwansi that cut through the maize stalks like a hot knife through butter. He leapt forward, evading another attack, and tried to get his panic under control.

Think, Somadina. What can you do?

He knew his best hope lay in somehow getting Kainene and Olisa's attention. There was no way he could outrun the clansmen indefinitely. But he was heading in the wrong direction, and even if he wasn't, he would never make it back to their campsite alive. He needed some way to contact them remotely.

As he ran, dodging through the maze of green stalks, a memory surfaced—a Seal he had seen in passing that allowed one to connect with the minds of others. It was a Practitioner-level Enforcement technique, far beyond what an Adept should be capable of. But hadn't he already done something similar? That vivid dream... he had contacted someone, hadn't he? Most likely, he had received a lot of help from the receiving side, but still…

Somadina considered the Seal, trying to visualise its complex pattern. To his surprise, it appeared in his mind's eye, clear and precise. He allowed himself a moment of doubt over his plan, then steeled himself for action.

Braking suddenly, he bent low, using his arm to lower his speed as he turned. In one fluid motion, he sprang up and charged right at the alarmed clansmen. Their leader raised her cutlass, readying a technique, but Somadina reached her first. He leapt with all his might, barely clearing their heads and rolled with the landing, bleeding off speed, grateful for his Adept body's enhanced capabilities.

The clansmen let out shouts of outrage, but Somadina was already in flight, legs pumping as he charged back towards the campsite. He gathered his will, focusing on the complex Seal. To his amazement, it came on his first attempt. He paused for a heartbeat, letting anwansi run through his channels, then made a twisting motion with his palm and uttered its name.

"Projection."

In an instant, his consciousness separated from his body. He felt himself rocketing away across the sky, leaving his physical form to continue its desperate race. Dimly, he was aware of his body dodging attacks and leaping over obstacles, part of his mind dedicated to keeping it alive. But the majority of his focus zeroed in on the papaya tree where they had made camp.

He landed with a stumble near their campsite and looked around wildly, yelling their names. Olisa looked up, then past him, whispering something into Kainene's ear that had her laughing.

They can't see me, he realised with a sinking feeling. As an Adept, he was strong enough to use the technique partially—strong enough to see them laugh and talk, unaware that a little way from them, he was about to die. Somadina looked around desperately. There had to be something he could do.

Olisa frowned a little, sensing something amiss, and rose slowly to his feet.

"What's the matter?" Kainene asked, reaching for her staff.

Olisa shook his head, listening intently, but Somadina knew he wouldn't be detected in time. Already, he could feel the impacts of the clansmen's attacks knocking dirt and sand against his feet back in the maize field. He moved closer, intending to try and shake them into noticing, when Rai descended from her tree, rubbing her eyes. The small creature froze, her gaze locking onto Somadina's spectral form. With a jolt, he realised that, somehow, she could see him.

"Help me," he managed to say, before a bolt of pain lanced through his leg and broke the connection.

Somadina snapped back to his body, the world spinning as he tumbled to the ground. The impact nearly knocked his teeth out, and he tasted blood in his mouth. He stared at the field of maize in front of him and had to stifle a crazed laugh. All that, just to end up where he started.

But as the clansmen closed in, a new determination flooded through him. He wouldn't die here, not like this. Somadina's eyes darted around, searching for anything he could use as a weapon. His gaze fell on a fallen maize stalk, its edge sharp where it had been cut by blade anwansi.

The leader approached slowly, savouring his apparent helplessness. Somadina turned, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. That Conjuration had all but drained his core—he barely had enough for one more Seal—but he had to make it count.

As the woman kicked his hands away, Somadina's fingers closed around the severed maize stalk. She raised her cutlass, blade anwansi gathering along its edge, slowly and methodically. But before she could bring it down, Somadina acted.

With a surge of desperate strength, he thrust the sharp end of the maize stalk upward, aiming for the gap beneath her raised arm. At the same moment, he focused the last dregs of his anwansi into a final, desperate Seal.

"Mist Garden," he gasped, pouring every ounce of will into the technique.

The indigo mist bloomed once more, momentarily blinding the leader. In that split second of confusion, the maize stalk found its mark, sliding between her ribs with surprising ease. The woman's eyes widened in shock, her blade anwansi dissipating as her concentration shattered.

She staggered backward, the makeshift weapon still lodged in her side. Blood blossomed across her animal hide clothing, and she let out a guttural cry of pain and rage. The other clansmen, momentarily stunned by this turn of events, quickly recovered and closed in, their faces twisted with fury.

Somadina scrambled backward, his reserves utterly spent. He had managed to fell one of his attackers, but four more remained. The leader, wounded but not defeated, raised her cutlass once more, blade anwansi gathering along its edge. This time, there was no savouring, no slow build-up. With a snarl of pure hatred, she brought the weapon down with all her might, describing an arc of grey anwansi that would cut Somadina in two.

Which was when Kainene blinked into existence.

The beginnings of a scream clawed its way up Somadina's throat, his eyes wide with terror as the leader's blade descended. But then, in a blur of motion that Somadina's adrenaline-fueled senses could barely track, Kainene raised an arm to block the incoming strike. Time seemed to slow as he waited for the inevitable, gruesome result.

Yet the expected amputation never happened. The arc of grey anwansi struck, then dissipated harmlessly against a crystal gauntlet that formed on Kainene's arm with a sound like tinkling wind chimes. The only sign the attack had ever existed was the displaced air that blew against them, carrying the scent of ozone and spent anwansi.

"No," said Kainene, her voice as cold and unyielding as the crystal she wielded. The single word carried more weight than a thousand threats.

In one fluid motion, she slashed with her staff. The air itself seemed to part before it, and a wave of force sent the leader flying back into her underlings. They tumbled like leaves in a storm, the impact kicking up a cloud of dust and crushed grass.

The leader was back on her feet a moment later, her recovery a testament to her skill and determination. Her eyes, burning with unabashed hatred, locked onto Kainene. The tension in the air thickened, almost palpable, as the two powerful women faced each other.

But Kainene wasn't backing down. She stood her ground, feet planted firmly in the sun-baked earth, surrounded by a whirling cocoon of tiny pieces of glass. The fragments caught the light of the setting sun, creating a dazzling display that was both beautiful and terrifying. The soft tinkling of the glass shards provided an eerily delicate soundtrack to the impending violence.

The leader raised her cutlass once more, the blade glinting ominously in the fading light. But she paused, her attention drawn by something else. A high-pitched whine cut through the air, reminiscent of a blade being drawn across crystal, growing louder with each passing second.

And with a suddenness that made Somadina flinch, Olisa materialised beside Kainene. He appeared as if stepping out of thin air, the residual vibrations of his sound-based technique still rippling through the atmosphere.

They stood there, Kainene and Olisa, a united front against the threat, their stance as immovable as a rock battered by the ocean. The knot of fear in his chest began to loosen, replaced by a warmth that spread through his body. He took a deep, shuddering breath, inhaling the scent of crushed grass and the metallic tang of spent anwansi that hung in the air.

As he looked at his friends, standing tall and unafraid in the face of danger, Somadina felt a surge of gratitude and admiration. In that moment, silhouetted against the darkening sky, they seemed to him like heroes from the old tales – indomitable, fierce, and loyal beyond measure. and Somadina finally felt the gentle touch of relief since his ordeal began.

***

It had been a long time since she'd felt this level of anger coursing through her veins—not since that fateful day when she and Olisa had failed and were unceremoniously expelled from Zin Kibaru and the Citrine Court. The memory of that disgrace only fueled her rage, sharpening her focus to a razor's edge.

She turned to Somadina, concern momentarily overtaking her anger. "Are you okay?" she asked, letting the Clear Body Enforcement technique on her arm recede. The soulmarks on her skin pulsed faintly as the anwansi dissipated.

Somadina shuffled around a little, groaning as he tested his limbs. "Yes," he finally managed, his voice strained but steady. "Nothing fatal."

Rai flitted past Kainene in a blur of white feathers. The owlcat landed gracefully in front of Somadina, adopting a protective stance with teeth bared in fury. The soul beast's loyalty was touching, but Kainene had more pressing concerns.

Satisfied that Somadina was relatively unharmed, she returned her attention to the scum in front of her. The acrid smell of sweat and fear mingled with the metallic scent of blood, creating a potent cocktail that set her nerves on edge. The one who was clearly their leader—the Matriarch—snarled, her weathered face contorted with malice and pain as she raised her machete. The blade glinted ominously in the harsh sunlight, its edge stained with dried blood.

Kainene's keen eyes didn't miss the way the Matriarch favoured her left side, where a dark stain had spread across her tunic. The wound Somadina had inflicted during the chase was clearly taking its toll, but it only seemed to fuel the woman's rage.

"Leave none of them alive!" the Matriarch roared, her voice carrying the weight of command.

Beside her, Olisa cocked his head at that, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. His next words were simple, a threat and a promise rolled into one. "Break them."

The clansmen attacked with a collective roar that seemed to shake the very air. Deadly arcs of blade anwansi erupted from their weapons, cutting through the space around them like ethereal scythes. Kainene and Olisa scattered in perfect synchronisation, their movements fluid and practised. They dodged the strikes with almost supernatural grace, pulling the action towards them and away from the vulnerable Somadina.

The Matriarch came after Kainene, her machete singing through the air as she swung wildly. Despite her injury, the woman moved with the dangerous grace of a seasoned fighter. Kainene retreated, her feet barely touching the ground as she danced away from her attacker. She noted how the Matriarch's movements, while still deadly, lacked some of their earlier fluidity. The wound was definitely hampering her.

It took her a single, breathless second to visualise and cast the Seal she wanted. The intricate pattern blazed in her mind, each loop and swirl etched with perfect clarity. All around her, the earth responded to her call, rising in a swirling maelstrom of sand and dirt.

The Matriarch thrust forward, projecting a spear of blade anwansi that cut through the air with a high-pitched whistle. But Kainene was ready. With a subtle gesture, the sand orbiting her tightened, forming a dense shield. The blade technique slammed into it, sending vibrations through Kainene's body, but the sand held firm, weathering the attack with ease.

Then, it was Kainene's turn to go on the offensive. Her hands danced through the air, fingers tracing complex patterns as she gathered the sand around her. With a thought, she compressed the grains, infusing them with intense heat until they melted and reformed into shards of red-hot glass. The air shimmered around the molten projectiles as Kainene flung them at her enemy with deadly precision.

The Matriarch's eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of fear crossing her face as she realised the danger. She leapt back, her movements noticeably slower than before, her blade flashing as she desperately tried to destroy the incoming shards with wild strikes of her magic. But Kainene's assault was relentless. More than a few shards made it through the Matriarch's frantic defence, striking her face and shoulder with sickening thuds. One shard found the spot where Somadina had wounded her earlier, eliciting a pained cry from the woman as she staggered backward.

Kainene let out a grunt of satisfaction, a predatory smile tugging at her lips. She knew that dibias with a blade affinity were deadly, offensive fighters, especially in close combat. But force them to defend, and the weakness of their anwansi showed, particularly when it wasn't paired with another affinity.

Sensing an opportunity, Kainene rushed forward, pressing her advantage. The ground beneath her feet seemed to propel her forward, lending speed to her charge. But two of the other clansmen, noticing their leader's predicament, broke off from their fight with Olisa. They leapt to the Matriarch's defence, their own blades glowing with anwansi as they moved to intercept Kainene.

Forced onto the defensive, Kainene found herself backing off. She conjured hastily formed sheets of glass, using them as makeshift shields to block the flurry of attacks coming her way. The air filled with the sound of blade anwansi striking glass, a discordant symphony of magical combat.

A moment of distraction cost her. One of the clansmen slipped past her guard, his blade carving a nasty slice across her shoulder. Pain lanced through her, hot and sharp, but Kainene didn't falter. Instead, she channelled the pain into focus, using it to sharpen her resolve.

With an unexpected swing of her staff, she caught one of her attackers off guard. The weapon connected with a sickening crunch, driving a shard of glass deep into the man's head. He crumpled instantly, dead before he hit the ground.

But Kainene knew she couldn't continue like this. Her unique glass summoning, a perfect fusion of her fire and earth affinities, was taking its toll. Not even her father, the Patriarch of the Adichie clan, possessed this ability. Dibias who had achieved a perfect fusion, like her, were exceedingly rare. Most simply alternated between affinities, switching on the fly, or uncommonly, using both simultaneously.

Her fusion, while powerful, was incredibly draining. In an intense fight like this, she couldn't afford to waste her magic. With a thought, she separated the anwansi in her core, feeling the familiar sensation as the energies split back into their component parts. The orange and brown hues of fire and earth swirled within her, distinct once more.

The change was immediate and exhilarating. True, she was battling another Practitioner, a Matriarch of a clan no less. It would have been a challenging fight by itself, let alone with another dibia, even if he was only a Disciple, thrown into the mix. In a fair world, there was no way she could win.

But this wasn't a fair world. She was Adichie Kainene, former Heir to their Vassal Seat. From her childhood, she had trained against people far stronger than her, honing her skills against seemingly insurmountable odds. Weighed against that gruelling preparation, the clansmen might as well have been throwing sticks at her.

Dodging a slash that would have taken her head clean off, Kainene twirled her staff with fluid grace. She described a perfect circle with its head, her mind racing as she visualised the complex Seal she needed. With a surge of will, she triggered the technique, feeling it drain her core down to its last dregs in mere moments.

The ground exploded. All around her, sand and fire erupted from the earth with a thunderous roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the world. The elemental fury spread out across the sky, momentarily blotting out the sun and casting the battlefield in an otherworldly light. The heat was intense, warming Kainene's skin even as the sand stung her eyes.

The effort required to hold such a powerful technique was nearly unbearable. Kainene staggered, her vision blurring as she fought to maintain control. The Matriarch, ever opportunistic, sensed the weakness in her opponent and with a triumphant cry, fired off another lance of blade anwansi, the deadly projectile hurtling towards Kainene's unprotected form.

But Olisa, always in perfect sync with her, materialised as if from thin air. Trailing wisps of turquoise-coloured anwansi, he intercepted the attack with a precise slash of his staff. The blade technique dissipated harmlessly, scattering into motes of light.

The other two clansmen Olisa had been fighting joined their leader, their faces masks of determination and fear. As one, they fired off their own Conjurations, the air filling with a storm of blade anwansi. But Olisa was ready. With a flourish of his staff, he countered with an Invocation of his own. A wave of turquoise energy careened into all five attackers, sending them flying backward in a surge of light accompanied by a deep, sonorous boom that Kainene felt in her bones.

The clansmen were back on their feet a moment later, battered but not broken. But it was too late. Kainene's technique was ready, hovering above the battlefield like the fist of an angry god. With a strangled scream that tore at her throat, Kainene brought it down upon the clansmen. The resulting explosion shook the earth for what felt like kilometres around, burying their attackers in a maelstrom of sand and fire.

Just like that, they had won.

The silence that followed was tense and oppressive. Kainene and Olisa stood motionless, their senses stretched to their limits as they waited for something—anything—to come charging at them, attracted by the cacophony of their battle. But it seemed all the animals were giving this area a wide berth, perhaps wisely choosing to avoid the chaos of human conflict.

Once she was certain they were in the clear, Kainene finally yielded to her exhaustion. Her legs gave out from under her, and she crumpled unceremoniously to the ground. The world spun around her, and she closed her eyes, trying to centre herself.

Olisa was by her side in an instant, his familiar presence a comforting anchor. Somadina was close behind, and Kainene watched with a mixture of exasperation and fondness as the two people closest to her heart hovered over her, matching expressions of worry etched on their faces. Even Rai was there, perched uncertainly on Somadina's shoulder, her large eyes fixed on Kainene with what could only be described as concern.

"Mother above, I'm anwansi drained, not dying," she said, fighting to push herself into a sitting position. Her body raised a vehement protest, muscles screaming from the exertion, but she ignored it through sheer force of will. "I'm not about to keel over."

Somadina was shaking his head, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and disbelief. "You're unbelievable," he breathed, his gaze drawn to the smouldering mound that had once been their attackers. "What was that?"

"Desolate Land. Very impressive, I know. Kind of puts my Wall of Sound to shame." Olisa frowned down at his girlfriend, his expression a mixture of admiration and disapproval. "It's also an Ordained-level Invocation she had no business performing. She didn't even do it properly."

"It worked out fine."

"Fine? You can't stand on your own two feet." Olisa's frown deepened, worry lines etching themselves across his forehead. "I expect this kind of foolishness from Somadina, not you."

"Hey!" came the offended reply.

"It was necessary," Kainene said firmly, meeting Olisa's gaze. "If I hadn't, we would still be fighting, and who knows how that would have turned out. Three Disciples and two Practitioners, with one clearly a Matriarch, is too much, even for us."

Olisa gave a hesitant sigh of agreement, then pulled her into a tight embrace. Kainene allowed herself a moment to relax into his arms, drawing comfort from his familiar warmth.

"I'm sorry," Somadina whispered, his voice thick with guilt. "You got hurt protecting me. If I hadn't gone off without telling you—"

"Don't," Kainene began, cutting him off. She fixed him with a stern look, softened by the affection she couldn't quite hide. "You're not at fault here. We'd known for a while that we were being followed. We should have told you so you'd be on your guard. Don't you dare blame yourself for this."

She waited for Somadina's meek nod before relaxing back into Olisa's arms. He was still looking at Somadina, his expression thoughtful.

"How are you holding up?" Olisa asked, his voice gentle.

The question confused Kainene for a beat before understanding dawned. This was probably the first time Somadina had witnessed someone killed. She wondered what exactly was going through his head and was struck by a sudden worry. How would he see her now? Now that she had killed five people in front of him. The thought sent a chill down her spine, despite the lingering heat from the battle.

Rai, perhaps sensing her mood, jumped into her lap and lay there, purring softly as Kainene absently stroked the owlcat's back. The familiar sensation helped ground her, keeping her spiralling thoughts at bay.

But Somadina didn’t turn to look at her with eyes clouded over with disgust. Instead, he considered the smoking pile for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

"I don't know," he said finally, his voice measured. "Is it bad that I don't feel sorry for them? I mean, it's a shame that lives were taken, but... they would have killed me without hesitation. In my mind, we were just defending ourselves."

Olisa smiled—a short, sad thing—then reached out to ruffle Somadina’s hair which had come undone.

“You’re learning.” Then he raised an eyebrow. “Care to tell us how you managed whatever that was that you used to contact us?”

Kainene turned to him, also interested and Somadina hung his head, suddenly bashful. But he told them everything, starting from his dream about the old man to the attack and how he had managed to work past his block. They were all eyes when he finished, at which time their wounds had healed to faint scars.

“You were contacted by the Prophet-In-Chains,” Olisa whispered, still in awe. “You can’t ignore that kind of summon. Not from a Sage. The trick is figuring out where he is. Tell me how the room he was in looked like again.”

Somadina repeated the information.

“That sounds like a place of power,” Kainene said slowly. Her mostly shallow wounds were almost completely healed, but her core, the main source of her discomfort remained empty. It would have to be refilled manually. “And the only location close enough to fit that criteria is—”

“The Tower.” Somadina took a deep breath. “Well, if we had any doubts before about going there, those just got thrown out the window.”

“True that.” Olisa’s gaze was thoughtful. “We’re not far from Sinikat now, a week’s walking at most. We need to get Somadina to Disciple by then. And we need to work on ourselves as well. We’ve put it off long enough.”

Somadina blinked at him. “What? What have you put off long enough?”

Kainene sighed. It had to be done sooner and later. And Olisa was right. They couldn’t afford to be anything other than their strongest. Not if they wanted to keep Somadina safe. Still, despite her hesitation, she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.

“We are advancing,” she said, playing with Rai’s fur. “Once we’re fully healed and well-rested, we’re going to do it.” Her voice took on a fierce note. “We’re going to try for Ordained.”

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter