Efon felt a splash of cold water over his face. Though he managed to open his eyes halfway, what he saw was a blur of flashing lights mixed with moisture — whether from his tears, or the cold water he could not tell. His sense of smell recovered before his vision did, though he quickly wished that it didn’t. There was a musty smell in the air. He was obviously underground somewhere, but it was more than that. There was the smell of stale air, blood, and other bodily fluids as well, some of whose origins he would rather not know about. There was blood in his mouth; but though his whole body ached, he could not feel any wounds. There were shackles on his wrists. He exerted kai from his Inner Gate point, and instantly felt it leave his wrist and enter the shackles. The kai traveled down the chains and disappeared into the ground.

“It seems my lord has awakened.”

Efon hated that voice. He wanted to strangle the source of that voice. And if he wasn’t restrained, he would have. Though he knew it was no use, he tried to summon kai from his Inner Gate point once more. He could feel it leaving him again. “Fuck you,” he spat.

“If only something like that could complete The Giving. Alas, multiple liaisons have not brought my wish to fruition. A shame it is only easy for the Jomurans.”

Efon frowned, blinking slowly until the form of Toha Roen came more into focus.

“Why go through all the trouble? Why try to obtain something all jin have considered a curse since the dawn of time?” Roen seemed to be speaking to himself. He spread his arms. “Well I’m sure you appreciate The Gift. You of all people came close to realizing the extent of what you have. But even you fall short.”

The taste of iron in Efon’s mouth grew stronger now. His noticed his throat was parched, though he would not ask for water.

“It’s just a matter of time. The alchemists have already analyzed your blood and made a few important discoveries. You have served the cause well, Menetakh Efon,” Roen continued.

Efon spat out a clump of blood. He could still only see a silhouette of Roen, and nothing more. But the stars in his eyes began to fade.

“Once we find a way to extract the Xaguun’s kai from you, you will be free to go.”

Efon breathed in slowly, then exhaled in a wheeze.

“Whatever secrets Chief Regent Tojo held in Akeha will soon be made clear. Toya Wuha is sending me the documents, and we will find the way that the Kiraguun’s kai have been transferred for generations. In the meantime, High Xaguun, I suggest you rest. I am sure the process will be painful.”

“Toya Wuha? Akeha?” Nelle’s defense must have failed, and Efon’s failure to capture the home island certainly didn’t help that. Efon closed his eyes. He did not want to give Roen the pleasure of his disappointment, but it was already too late.

Roen chuckled. “The Jomuun was very brave in her last stand.”

Efon opened his eyes and locked them on the figure of Roen, though he did not speak further.

“I’m sure you’d like to know what became of her.”

Efon flinched.

“She was executed at the capital.”

“The capital. Ard.” Efon bit his lip to prevent it from quivering.

“The Jomuun would’ve been the perfect specimen. Even more perfect than you, because she not only managed to activate the Jomuun’s kai, she found a way to control it.”

“Control?” thought Efon. His heart pounded as a mix of thoughts swirled through his head. Curiosity, wonder, and a small bit of jealousy accompanied his memories of Nelle seated in her wheel chair, poring over the logistics of running the country. When did she have time to train? Nelle did not seem to put any thought or effort into martial matters beyond ensuring the army had sufficient supplies and where to build outposts. How was it that she could control the kai and he could not?

“It’s unfortunate we won’t be able to recover anything from her,” Roen lamented.

The Rebirth. Efon was not sure why his people called it that, but an execution by The Rebirth — burning to death in the sun — meant there would be nothing to recover. Efon groaned.

Roen did not seem to notice Efon’s reaction. He took a torch from a guard standing nearby and held it in front of his face so that Efon could get a clear view of him. Strange and grotesque scars crawled across the Ardan’s face. His eyes were bloodshot, and his fangs rested perilously on his lower lip. Efon was not sure why he never noticed these scars before. After all, he had fought Roen at close quarters. Perhaps it was the darkness, Roen’s helmet, or something else. Since Roen was clearly not Vidaal despite his wishes to the contrary, wherever his fangs came from was also unknown.

“All there is to do is to wait for the right procedures. You’ve been fed while you were asleep, and it should be enough for a while.”

“Fed? Fed with what?” thought Efon.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“What I want you to remember is that we are on the same side, Xaguun. Once I learn the secrets of The Giving I will give The Gift to all those who are yet deprived. And we will secure these islands for the future of the Reo.”

Efon found this so incomprehensible he did not know what to say. No one but the most radical sects would refer to their condition as “The Gift”. Such terminology had disappeared thousands of years ago. And even such radicals would never view those who underwent The Giving as anything but thralls or slaves. There were no modern recorded incidents of a successful Giving, and most records from centuries earlier suggested successful incidents resulted in the receivers losing their minds. Beyond legendary figures no one could control such receivers, who went about rampaging through towns until they were put down by the city guard or lurked in the thick forests of the countryside, waylaying any unsuspecting travelers. Any attempt or even thought of The Giving amounted to nothing short of madness. “This man is truly insane.”

“My men?” Efon asked, weakly.

“They are safe in another wing. I did perform small tests on some of them. A few could not withstand the procedures and sadly perished. But it is for the greater good. I’m sure you’ll understand.”

“Agghhhh!” Efon pulled at his shackles, but the chains would not budge from their anchor points on the ground.

Roen lowered his torch. “Wasn’t your goal to ensure the independence and prosperity of all Reo for generations to come? I share your goal, though your means were a bit naive. The Xian believe that contemporary history is best written by a successor dynasty. I believe that future generations will consider me a visionary, my means more than justified by the ends. I am sure future scholars will realize there was no other way. Without me, your people were destined to perish.”

Roen turned without waiting for a further response from Efon. He and his men exited the holding cell, closed and locked the gate. “Oh I forgot to mention,” Roen added, while continuing to walk down the hall. “There are some down here who haven’t been fed quite as generously as you.” Soon they disappeared up the steps on the far side, plunging the entire hall into darkness.

Efon heard a cough from the other side of the room. “Munkhjargal! Bayar!” he called out.

“…is me…Xaguun,” Munkhjargal replied between coughs. The coughs did not sound like an ordinary sickness. Efon thought Munkhjargal was about to throw up his stomach.

Efon pulled on his shackles, but to no avail.

Munkhjargal coughed again. “Bayar…Bayar…taken.”

“Don’t speak, save your strength.”

Munkhjargal continued to cough but did not speak further. Multiple torches suddenly lit up the hall. Up ahead, two guards were hauling what looked like a shackled woman, with two guards tailing them. As they approached the cell gate, Efon could tell that the woman was naked. One of the tailing guards unlocked the gate, and those holding the woman threw her inside. The guards quickly shut the gate and locked it again. In unison, they channeled kai from their Celestial Gathering point to their Lesser Mansion point, pressing at different points on the ground to send out a wave of red kai toward Munkhjargal. The Nuur man’s head jerked to the side a few times before his head bowed.

“Arrrgghhh!” Efon pulled on his shackles as hard as he could again, baring his fangs at the guards.

Munkhjargal’s restraints then seemed to fall, and the man fell face first onto the ground. Efon frowned. Whatever it was they thought would happen between Munkhjargal and the Bessho woman, he was sure The Giving would fail. It’s not as if these sorts of things were never tried before. And they always ended poorly for the one in the woman’s position.

Munkhjargal continued to cough. A burst of kai wisps then escaped from his collar. From the illumination over his face, Efon could tell something was wrong with him. He had similar scars as the ones Roen had, and one of his eyes had turned red. The woman also began to stir, a stripe of kai escaping from her Celestial Gathering point. The red kai turned into a small flame and burned across her back. Efon could see that there were strips of cloth clinging to her skin; it was only then he realized she was not naked, rather whatever she was wearing had been burnt off. Another burst of blue kai this time came from her Pool-at-the-Bend point.

“Fire and water kai together? That’s not possible—”

Waves of blue kai surged out from the woman’s eyes and mouth, forming clumps of ice that crawled toward Munkhjargal. The latter still seemed to notice the attack in his delirious state, reaching out just in time to block the ice with a shield of blue kai just as the ice reached within a few span from where he knelt. The shield itself then began to freeze, and his fingertips first became blue, and then several of them turned black.

“Munkhjargal!”

“Ahhhhh!” Munkhjargal cried out in pain.

“No!” Efon shouted.

Munkhjargal’s irrecoverably frozen digits then began to reverse in color: first turning from black to blue, and then from blue to their original pale color. Red flames ejected from his Greater Yang point at his temples. His shield, which was originally blue, switched to a bright red. A beam of energy then burst forth from the center, swallowing up the blocks of ice along the ground and eventually engulfing the woman herself. The woman attempted to defend herself with kai emitting from her Outer Shoulder Cave point, but it was not enough. Munkhjargal’s technique won out, and she began to scream as she burned. Munkhjargal suddenly stopped. Just as the flames went out and the room grew dark once more, Efon could see the animalistic hunger in Munkhjargal’s eyes.

For a moment Efon could not see anything. He could only smell the scent of the woman’s burning flesh diffusing through the cell. He then heard a horrible guttoral growl, followed by a blood curdling scream. The woman’s cries and sobs were drowned out by the sound of flesh being torn from bones. Efon shivered. A nauseating fear crawled down his spine, and he found himself gagging up blood from his stomach. The flesh ripping noises then stopped. After a brief moment of silence he could hear Munkhjargal crawling toward him cautiously. The Nuur warrior stopped in front of him, sharp fangs just inches away from his face. Efon could smell the burning meat and blood of the woman dripping from Munkhjagal’s mouth. Though he wanted to gag, he was too weak to do so, and his stomach felt completely empty of substance. Efon braced for an attack, but seconds passed and his former companion did not make a move. Munkhjargal then knelt down and began to lap up the blood Efon had just regurgitated.

“Why didn’t he—.” Efon shuddered, slowly touching the tip of his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “This blood isn’t mine.”