Kaiser returned to his inn room. The keeper downstairs was gone. He’d mailed a carpenter to come and fix the broken hinges and snapped doors, but one wouldn’t be able to come until Saturday.

“One week. . . It was supposed to be one week. . .”

He checked the small dresser next to his bed. He opened it, expecting to find his pilgrimage book—texts that contained the prayers and rituals of a Wiegrafian priest as well as how one casts a miracle—inside it. He saw nothing and sighed.

“Why now?” Kaiser took a seat next to the bed. He leaned against one of its legs, looking on at the clear blue sky outside. “Funny. It’s been overcast every day this month.” Kaiser chuckled.

“What?” A child’s voice asked him.

“Hm?” Kaiser turned to the door. It was part way open, but he was sure nobody had come in.

Kaiser turned to his left and saw G sitting there, wearing their oversized makeshift sweater and mask. They stared straight at Kaiser while holding a thin book in their hands.

“What’s so funny?”

Kaiser was shocked. He thought G would have left this morning while he was out. He had even instructed them to do so, to go and find someplace else to be. Yet, Kaiser couldn’t tell if he was more shocked by that or by how G now spoke.

“You’re. . . speaking?”

“Mm. . .” G nodded.

“Why now? And what’re you doing with that book?”

“I just. . . I was too afraid to speak before.”

“But why were you reading that book?”

G clutched the texts tight to their chest. “You can’t take it away. I. . . I like to read.”

Kaiser sat confusedly. “You can read that? But how? How can you understand any of it?”

“It’s simple.” G spoke with long pauses in between each of their sentences. They had mustered only the confidence to talk slowly. “From left to right, right? Reading is my favorite thing. . . They wouldn’t let me do it for very long.”

Kaiser had grown intrigued. “Who are you talking about?”

“People. In dark jackets. White crosses. . . There were crosses and upside down crosses on them.”

“Priests, then? But why would priests—” Kaiser stopped as he saw G begin to shake. There was a moment in which the two just sat silent. One remained in thought, the other tried to avoid their thoughts. “I’m sorry, G.”

G nodded, accepting the apology, but they began to speak again. “Can you call me. . . ‘Kin’? I read a story in your book, and there was a man in armor with a sword and shield. I think his name was Kin.” G thought for a few seconds. “I don’t want to be G anymore.”

Kaiser chuckled. “Am I your guardian now? Else, why tell me your new name? Names are sacred. At least you’d know since you read the book.”

“I just want a friend.”

“Why?”

“I’ve never thought about it before.” Kin closed their eyes. “I just want a friend.”

Kaiser had the urge to laugh, but he bottled up any chuckles or grins that he wanted to make. He felt like he was looking at himself. A past self, yes, but he felt a burst of nostalgia for the times before the war.

“Right. . .”

Kaiser held his hand out and gently gestured to Kin to hand it to him. After Kin did hand him the book, he asked Kin what page he had reached. “Five,” Kin said.

“Did you read about how to use Wiegraf’s magics? How you have to become a priest to do so?”

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Kin nodded their head.

“It’s not true, really. Anyone can use them. It just takes a while. You can pray and pray and show your good faith for years and still find every miracle you try to enact fizzle out.”

Kaiser undid his bandaged left hand and was left dumbfounded. His cut was gone. Moreover, the prayer circle carved into it still remained without any scar or markings to deface it.

“Your hand. . .!” Kin said worryingly. “Did someone cut it?”

“It might sound strange, Kin, but I was the one who did this. When someone casts a miracle, I was taught that the caster provided a small sacrifice to do so: A bit of their soul.”

“That sounds really dangerous.”

Kaiser chuckled. “I don’t think it’ll really hurt you. Trust me, I’ve never seen anyone, priest or otherwise attempting to cast, hurt themselves unless they were doing something. . . ‘mistaken’ I’ll say. But, whatever energy source the miracle draws on, the farther the caster is, the longer it’ll take to cast.”

Kin entered a state of awe. He had tried to understand the elden-written texts in the book and, even though he could read, it was too difficult to decipher the true meaning of what was written. “Is that why you put the circle in your own hand? So you could be the fastest?”

“That’s part of it. Other than that, I’ve heard some discussion on how using yourself as the surface for the circle strengthens your connection to Wiegraf the White. ‘Course, it’s hard to prove something like that.”

“But if you’re not sure if it really works, why’d you do it?”

“It’s simple. I’m a cleric. Priests see Wiegraf’s magics as blessings to humanity. To a cleric, the magics are just tools and nothing more.”

“Mm. . .”

“Ah, sorry about that.” Kaiser opened the book back up. “What page were you on?”

Kin told Kaiser he had reached page five of the book, yet still wanted to read. He said that he felt a strange connection to it, as if his very being was connected to the texts in some strange way. Kaiser lost track of his planning. Instead, he spent the afternoon helping Kin understand the rest of the book. It was a surprisingly easy process for Kaiser. Kin caught on quickly to everything he explained to him. Even if he was a child, Kaiser took note of the boy’s potential. By the time the clock struck four, Kin had even managed to draw a proper prayer circle. Kaiser congratulated him, telling him to continue practicing. Kaiser left the inn as the sun began to set. He did not hesitate to even leave Barbush once night came.

It was a lonely path out of Barbush. Despite knowing the boy for such a short time, Kaiser felt an unfamiliar warmth between him and Kin. He brushed the feeling off. It was entirely unnecessary, perhaps even detrimental, for him to complete his objective with such a distraction.

The road out of Barbush was long and winding. The only thing that illuminated the pitch black plains and dirt road were the faint orange hues given off by the lamps recently lit by Faldo.

Kaiser was not used to such empty plains. Just several dozen steps out of Barbush made him stop and take in the peaceful surroundings. There were few trees, and there were some parts of the plains where small crater clusters had been made during the war. The road twisted and turned around the small craters and trees just as it had on Kaiser’s way to Barbush.

A voice rang out from behind Kaiser, startling him. “My, leaving so soon?”

Kaiser quickly turned and reached into his pocket. Once he saw it was Eldwin, he took his empty hand back out.

“What do you want?” Kaiser asked. “I’ve no desire to stay put here.”

“Oh, but you must. Now, Kaiser, I know how misfortunate this must sound, but Branko has ordered all those related to the death of one of his soldiers. What was his name. . .? Ah, Von.”

“But why? The case was already cleared up. He said he didn’t have a reason to not believe me.”

“It’s quite funny how quickly things happen, isn’t it? Especially when you’re not there to witness the most peculiar things yourself. Let not me rant. Branko arrested Caligula.”

“So you’ve come here to bring me back? But, you’re no Drauxian soldier. Why act as Branko’s informant?”

“I’m only doing this to keep some semblance of peace in Barbush. The incident with that Undergrowth gang member attacking you was just the beginning of that town’s destruction. It’s not as if the world would lose much with the loss of Barbush, but I will tell you now that constant strife does no good for a hamlet whose houses are as crude as sticks. Besides, there’s something else I’ve come to tell you.”

Kaiser began to back away from Eldwin. He placed his hand in his pocket and gripped his revolver tightly. “What is it you must say?”

“I know who you are, Kaiser. You were just a wee lad when Draux launched their assault on Glascaign. There, wounded and left without platoon, I was taken in by your mother and father. I know not why they would do such a thing. Perhaps the kindness of their hearts enabled them to move. I would not be able to understand such an idea though.”

Kaiser’s face didn’t change. “Then that Branko in town really is the one that led the attack on my village?”

“Aye. He is also the one that failed to finish me off. He was a strong man, an ox in human skin, but with a jellied heart. Too weak to think for himself. Alas, such a thing is what the forces prized most. Thought was never welcome on the battlefield.”

“So, in your ill will, you’ll return me to Barbush so I can be persecuted for a crime I am innocent of?”

Eldwin’s usual smile left his face. “Only if you truly were guilty in the case of the death of Von. Or, even worse, if you withheld information from Branko during the initial conversation you had with him.”

Kaiser felt something hot boiling in him. He felt a primordial anger when Eldwin spoke of the business he was to have with Branko. Everything was Branko’s fault, in his mind. He utterly detested the man and Eldwin knew.

“Of course, I offer you an accord.”

“What might that be?”

“You wish to leave Barbush without further complications, correct?”

“Of course.”

“Would you spill the blood of Draux’s hero?”