Indenuel stood in the foggy world of dreams before he comprehended Garen, but he was there, smiling. “Good to see you again, Indenuel.”

Indenuel smiled, then wished more than anything that he could give him a hug. “Garen, I…” Indenuel folded his arms, trying to remember the last time he had seen him. “So much has happened since I saw you last.”

Garen’s smile was comforting. “I don’t doubt it. I have been trying, but my powers are so sporadic. I was never any good with them.”

“I think mine are getting stronger,” Indenuel said, rubbing his arm.

Garen’s smile grew, and he looked almost proud. “Why don’t you tell me what’s been happening?”

So Indenuel did. He didn’t know how much time he used, but Garen listened, beaming as he talked about healing the Oraminians. Of the training. Garen listened as he talked about the fight with the Kiamese soldiers and saving Tolomon’s life. Garen looked as though he was about to pat his shoulder when he stopped and brought his hands back, most likely realizing the same thing Indenuel had. They couldn’t touch in this plane of existence.

“You are incredible, Indenuel. I’m so proud of you, son.” Garen froze, realizing what he said. Indenuel felt something beginning in his chest. Garen was proud of him. He was making his father proud. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… that might have been too forward of me.”

“No, it’s fine, father,” Indenuel said, trying the word out. It was an odd, ill-practiced word. He’d have to practice to get used to it.

Garen smiled again, trying to hide his pride. “Quite the eventful few days, then.”

“Yeah, well, it um, it doesn’t necessarily stop there,” Indenuel said.

“What?” Garen asked. “There’s more?”

He laughed, then talked about the vision he had. At least, a shortened one. Simply that he had one. As much as he wanted to, he wasn’t ready to talk to Garen about the Divine Ages. Or about what he had learned afterwards in the library of the High Elders. Or that he might lose the final battle. He wasn’t ready to have that conversation with Garen yet.

The room started to darken, and Indenuel looked around, frowning. How much time had he spent talking with his father. “I’m sorry. I was so busy talking about me.”

“Oh, never apologize, Indenuel. We’ve finally found each other, and there will be plenty more of these talks,” Garen said.

Indenuel nodded. “I’d like that.”

The last thing he saw was Garen’s smile.

Indenuel opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. He sat up, just to orient himself back into the real world. The sun began to rise. Tolomon was sound asleep in the bed next to him. He had been asleep when Indenuel crept into the room last night, doing everything he could to be as silent as possible to give Tolomon as much rest as needed. He had only paused enough to have existential dread about saying his evening prayers before climbing into bed and going to sleep.

He eased himself out of bed. He took one step when the floor beneath him creaked and Tolomon’s eyes snapped open, and he sat up.

“Go back to bed, you need your rest.”

Tolomon glanced out the window, squinting in the bright light. “Did I miss breakfast?”

Indenuel started to get dressed. “No. But you should still go back to bed.”

“Nonsense.” Tolomon slid out of bed, doing some stretches. “I feel perfectly refreshed.”

Indenuel was again reminded of Rosa. Remembered how she paced by the door. Remembered how adamant Tolomon was about nothing being between them.

“Are you sure you don’t need any more sleep?” Indenuel asked.

“Once I’m up, I’m up.”

He finished getting dressed. “See you at breakfast, then.”

Indenuel sat down, figuring he had a pretty good appetite, considering Sara watched him with a smile on her face, until he got the message from Derio that the High Elders were ready for him in Martin’s study. He then muscled the rest of his food down his throat before excusing himself to meet with them.

He opened the door to the study and gave a bow. Dalius was behind the desk, getting the book ready to take notes. Navir and Martin sat in chairs on either side of the desk, and Fadrique leaned against the wall, his arms folded.

Indenuel walked farther in. He felt naked without Tolomon near him. “So why am I meeting with all of you?”

“Your powers might be so intertwined you might have used others by mistake,” Navir said.

“I mean, I think I would know,” Indenuel said, rubbing his arm as he stood on the center of the rug.

“The Warrior using any sort of corruptive power is something we all need to be aware of,” Fadrique said.

Indenuel sighed in defeat. “Alright.”

“Let us begin with a prayer,” Navir said.

Indenuel listened to the prayer, ignoring most of the words as he tried his hardest not to feel like a hypocrite. Every single person in this room knew about God. Why the pretense?

“You come to confess of your own will?” Navir asked once the prayer was done. Dalius began writing.

“I do,” Indenuel said. Sure, he was doing this to keep Tolomon here, but it still didn’t matter. He decided to confess to keep his bodyguard by his side, and that definitely was his own choice.

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“Tell us what happened,” Navir said.

Indenuel recounted it to the best of his ability about grabbing the Kiamese soldier’s wrist with a tree branch to keep him from stabbing Tolomon. Navir listened, a frown on his face, nodding to his story.

“And you give us permission to probe for corruption?” Navir asked.

“Yes, sir,” Indenuel said.

He felt it, all at once, extremely powerful probes into his soul. They didn’t even have to touch him. Despite everything, Indenuel sometimes forgot these were the High Elders, the most powerful men in the entire world in their specific gifts.

Navir rose before he opened his eyes. “I sense none, but we shall check for a mark just in case.”

Indenuel nodded again, letting Navir pull his shirt over enough to see Indenuel’s bare shoulder. “Instinctual, you say?”

“Yes sir. The instinctual ones never leave a mark,” Indenuel said.

“And you know this how?” Navir asked.

Indenuel hesitated, realizing he had made a confession of a different sort. “I… um…” Navir continued to stare at him, almost forcing the confession out of him. “It might have happened once or twice in Mountain Pass,” he mumbled.

Navir had a tight smile. “Instinctual or not, it is still a use of the corruptive powers.”

Indenuel straightened his shirt again. “It is, yes.”

“You did right to confess.”

“Did I, though?” Indenuel asked.

The frown tugged at Navir’s mouth. “Of course. Any use whatsoever of the corruptive powers needs to be confessed.”

“But there was nothing there, sir. No mark, no corruption lingering, and after I used the corruption, I saved Tolomon’s life, using the tree power to reverse the gray death,” Indenuel said.

Navir turned his head ever so slightly. “What exactly are you saying?”

“I mean, so what if this happens?” Indenuel asked. “If it’s instinctual, I cannot stop it.”

“You can, and you must,” Navir said. “Corruptive powers are not something to play with.”

“So, I let Tolomon get stabbed?” Indenuel asked.

“You stop using corruption,” Navir said. “This is the second time since you’ve arrived that you used these powers, and that is deeply concerning to us.”

“But I saved his life twice! Once with corruption, once with the gifts!”

“It is unheard of to switch between God-given gifts and the devil corrupted ones,” Martin said from his corner.

“And yet I have,” Indenuel said.

“No, you haven’t,” Martin said, standing. “As you said, you used it instinctually. It never made a lasting mark. The more excuses you find to use corruption, the longer it will stick, and then your gifts will not be as easy to use. And it is the God-given gifts you need. You stay away from the devil as far as possible.”

“But what if I can? What if this is what makes me the Warrior?” Indenuel asked. “What if, instead of using four gifts, I can use all eight?”

“Absolutely not!” Fadrique said.

“Impossible,” Navir said at the same time.

“It would help win this war faster. If I can both heal and bring pain, I could-”

“Stop, Indenuel,” Martin said, his voice quiet yet firm. “You cannot let your mind go down this path.”

“I can do it,” Indenuel said. “Maybe this is what they meant by-”

“No,” Dalius said, placing the quill in the ink pot before standing. “Has your time during the Day of the Devil given you no insight at all? You cannot mess with the devil.”

“Yes, that day is hell, but I’m still able to survive well enough the other days of the year,” Indenuel said.

Dalius pointed a finger at him. “This is exactly how the devil works. Leading you down a false sense of security, thinking you are in control, and next thing you know you are selling your soul to him.”

“I’d never do that. If I could use the more offensive powers, confess, then use my more defensive powers, then-”

They were talking all at once. Indenuel almost couldn’t understand them.

“God-given gifts and devil corruptive ones. Do not call them by any other name,” Martin said.

“Do not even begin down this path. Take those thoughts from your mind at once,” Dalius said.

“You may be more powerful, but after a time your gifts will still corrode if you use too much corruption,” Navir said.

“There is no balance between the two. You either have God-given gifts, or the devil corruptive ones,” Fadrique said.

Indenuel sighed as they continued to talk. “Alright. Alright, I get it.”

“We’re serious, Indenuel,” Dalius said. “You must rid yourself of all evil. Don’t even look at it. Get your mind back toward God, or else the devil will win.”

Indenuel winced, feeling his eyes harden as he met Dalius’ gaze. “My mind back toward God?”

Dalius sighed, almost sensing his raw soul. “The Savior. You must tether yourself to the Savior, or all will be lost.”

Once again, Indenuel felt the dissonance in his soul. Every single one of these men had crimes, both in public and in private, and here they were demanding he do better. It was hypocrisy to the greatest degree, and he, unfortunately, could do little about it. For now. “Is there anything more I need to do for confession?”

Martin came closer, the concern in his eyes. “We shall see you at Sabbath worship tomorrow, yes?”

“Of course,” Indenuel said.

“Attend worship for the next month, and your confession will be complete,” Navir said.

“I accept. Thank you, High Elders.”

Navir nodded. “This confession is over. God be with you, Indenuel.”

Once again Indenuel gave Navir a hard stare. He seemed unperturbed by it. Indenuel bowed before turning around and leaving the room, hearing the familiar clang of metal against metal. He followed the sound out the back doors and to the gardens where Tolomon and Captain Luiz were fighting with swords. Indenuel wasn’t sure how Tolomon could handle it. He had perfect form, the speed undeniable, and all the children were cheering them on. Indenuel never wanted to have an audience at his sword fighting. Clearly Tolomon was good enough he didn’t mind.

Once again, a servant brought out a chair for Indenuel. He sat down and saw Rosa and Ana talking near their children. Was it just his imagination, or was Rosa watching Tolomon far more than Ana?

It was combat style, and Captain Luiz was holding his own. Tolomon was not nearly as fast, since Indenuel could mostly follow it, but it was still more skill than he possessed.

Derio’s shadow crossed him. “Ah, there you are, sir.”

Indenuel looked up. “Oh, hello.”

“Pablo let a tree talker from your household give the letters he has been holding for the past few days,” Derio said, giving him a nice stack.

“Oh! Right. I guess I should have asked for them,” Indenuel said.

“You have been busy with other matters, sir.”

Indenuel stood up, looking through the letters as Tolomon and Captain Luiz continued to fight. “Thank you. I appreciate this.” He had a feeling Tolomon and Captain Luiz would be at this for a while, so he walked inside. Matteo and the twins were making excellent time, but without the map, he didn’t know how close they were. He wandered through the house before gathering the courage to ask a servant for a map of the main road. The servant lead Indenuel to a library and pulled out a map in a book, and Indenuel thanked the servant. He read through the few letters he had from the children, mapping where they were, getting more excited as his finger drew nearer to Santollia City.

Sara walked in the library, smiling at him. “Well, hello, Indenuel. I thought you’d be outside watching Tolomon.”

Indenuel looked up from the map. “Pretty sure they’ll be out there a while. I just got some letters from the children in my village who are coming to visit.”

Sara’s entire face brightened. “Oh, are they?”

“Yes, they should be here…” he traced his finger, going through two towns. “The second day of next week.” A smile broke across his face.

“How marvelous! Do you need me to watch them while you train?” Sara asked.

Indenuel glanced at her. “I hadn’t thought of that. I guess they would just stay at my house the entire time, wouldn’t they.”

“How old are they?”

“Two five year old’s, and a nine year old,” Indenuel said.

“Yes, please bring them. They can play with my grandchildren,” Sara said.

Indenuel looked surprised. “Are you sure, Sara? I don’t want to burden you.”

“No burden at all, I assure you. Children that age need other children to play with.”

“But you already have a full house,” Indenuel said.

“So, what’s a few more? You keep me informed,” Sara said.

“Thank you, Sara.”

She beamed at him as she left the library. Indenuel settled himself in a chair, reading the adventures of the children.