Tiago:

Continuing…

Tiago didn’t make it far before running into trouble. He feels a constant piercing pain in his thigh. Every step pushed Tiago forward with vitriol and determination.

The concrete ground beneath his feet transitions to sand and then morphs into the roots of a tundra; he walks through the memory of the battlefields that befell him.

He knows his mission. Protect the V.I.P. However, his captors have a large number and power advantage. Tiago is battered and wounded in foreign territory.

A location it's all he has, but he wouldn’t even know where to begin to find it.

Two enemy combatants enter his field of vision. A further two think they have Tiago for a fool, approaching closely on his flank.

“You from that explosion over there, lad?” The man asks him, a small knife in hand.

Tiago stares daggers into the man; he is petite, skinny, and clearly from an impoverished background—a victim of an unjust system.

Tiago continues to walk forward, ignoring their attempts to threaten him.

“When adults speak. You listen.” He steps in front of Tiago, a smirk across his face.

In his smile, Tiago sees Dargor. Tiagos purple eyes almost glow in the sunlight. Reflecting his anger.

“You have eyes like a dragon. Anyone ever told you that?” he asked.

In Tiago’s palm, a small white blade slowly forms as he stares at the man.

He is full of openings; like everyone else, they spend too much time talking and less time analyzing the situation—the weakness of weak warriors.

He was a machine built for wars, battles, and skirmishes. Emotionless, effective, and, most of all, disposable. So he should fight like every battle was his last.

Tiago stood no longer as himself but as a remnant of a once-lived life.

He gripped the mana blade, which had formed itself as a dagger.

His heart was racing, but his younger body couldn’t keep pace, unlike in his adult life. The adrenaline in his system begins wearing off slowly, the feelings of determination transforming into anxiety. The man was no longer Dargor but his father from his previous life.

“Finally, understanding your place.” He spoke down to him.

His father's voice mixed with the man from the Shallows. Tiago shivered with fear as he walked backward. The looming figure of his father before him.

Tiago feels hands grab from behind, the other two criminals taking on the form of his mother and sister. Tiago’s eyes widened, hyperventilating.

“You must think yourself unlucky, but you’re just weak.”

Their voices play in his head. He crouches into himself. His mother reaches down to grab him.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!” A booming voice snaps Tiago out of his delusions.

The visions fade, and the assailants change their attention away from him. Instead, they turn towards a new target. A teenage boy clad in knight armor with a white cloth and a teal symbol of a cloud on his chest and forearms,

“Another kid playing hero, huh?” The more petite man told him, acting tough despite coming to a similar height as the teen.

The boy’s demeanor was tough and proud, and his voice surprisingly deep considering his age. His helmet blocked the view of his hair, but his face had a confident grin.

“You will leave that poor boy alone; people like you, scum of the shallows, always try to bring us down to your level.” The boy told the men as they surrounded him.

Tiago took a deep breath, steadying himself. His vision blurred with every breath. He didn’t know what just happened; his wounds felt far more visceral and painful than he first thought.

Tiago dropped to his knees, looking up to watch the situation unfold. The men circling round their new victim like sharks, searching for any opening.

Pack tactics. Tiago has seen it a lot on all battlefields, but he saw it most among those who consider themselves weak individually, cowards.

The boy draws his sword; it is broad and long, the blade thicker at its hilt, slimming to its tip. Considering it's size it had to be a great sword, but he held it tall. He must be familiar with the blade.

One of the criminals’ faces lit up with a wicked grin, and he lunged forward, drawing a hidden dagger from his belt. He rushed the knight head-on, swinging at him viciously. The knight boy calmly swung his blade forward in response, cutting through the air, warding the man back.

However, he was just a distraction. One of the women took the opportunity to sneak close behind him with a dagger drawn.

She shoves her blade towards the hip of his armor, attempting to pierce the small gap in the armor. Suddenly, the knight boy raises his blade, shouting.

“Wind Pillar!” With a massive whoosh, a large gust of wind billows around her, pushing her backward and into the air. The other three assailants raise their arms, failing to resist as they, too, are blasted back as well.

The young knight points his blade towards the woman who attempted to attack her. The confident grin on his face was unfazed.

“It’ll take more than foul tactics to get the jump on me.”

Tiago stared at the young knight, an impressive show of power.

“You academy students are so full of yourselves,” The woman seethed at him,

“It’ll take a strong woman to show you the limits of your hubris.” She puts the dagger back in her belt, brings her arms to her sides, and opens the palms of her hands,

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“Ignite palms.”

A fire ignited in sparks on her palms, and she raised them in fists to her guard. Her form was amateurish but practiced.

The young boy grinned, sheathing his sword. He gestured to her to come at him. She screamed while charging forward, the flames in her hands crackling as she sprinted.

She swings her fist at him, and he ducks under her arm quickly; she turns around, swinging her other fist blindly, and he grabs onto her burning fist mid-punch.

“This flame isn’t even hot enough to warm my tea. Let alone hurt me.”

The burning fire enveloped his hand. The woman struggles to pull away as he tightens his grip, crushing her fist. She screams in agony.

He lets go, and she reels backward, holding her fist with her other hand. The fire disappeared, the other three assailants rallying before her, preventing the young knight from getting closer. He stares at them, disappointment and disgust in his eyes.

The three turn and start running away, taking the lady by the arm and pulling her along.

Tiago was still barely catching his breath. The young knight sighed, turning his attention to Tiago, walking towards him.

“Are you alright, boy? They’ve done quite a number on you, it seems.” He crouched down in front of him. Tiago got a closer look at his armor.

It was weathered and scratched, but it fit his frame perfectly.

The knight extends his hand to him, “My name is Anvindr Enlil, and what is yours?”

Tiago grabs onto his hand, letting Anvindr help him get to his feet. “Tiago. Tiago Ein Sof.” He replied, patting himself down.

“I’ll be damned. That Ein Sof?” he asked curiously,

“My father is Tore Ein Sof.” Tiago elaborated,

“How can I believe that?” Anvindr asked Tiago, crossing his arms. Tiago thought briefly before summoning a long white mana blade in his palms.

“The Ein Sof mana blade technique, huh? So you are the son of that legendary knight. What are you doing bruised and battered in the shallows?”

“Me and my sister were attacked while our father was in an important meeting. Speaking of which, you must help me,” Tiago demanded of him,

“Woah, slow down there; we should find your father first. Do you know where his meeting was placed?”

Tiago bit down on his lip; he had no idea where his father was; he was an idiot for thinking he could handle this alone.

“Look, I don’t know, but you must help me; they have my sister.” Tiago pleaded with him,

Anvindr stroked his chin curiously,

“If they’re willing to take on Tore Ein Sof himself, they must be the real deal. I could be risking my life.”

‘Damn this kid,’ Tiago thought, he might be a knight, but he’s a teenager first. Anvindr broke into a grin and slapped Tiago’s back jokingly, knocking him forward. “I’m only kidding, but if we are gonna do this, we will need more help.” He then looked Tiago up and down,

“Additionally, you are in no condition to fight.”

He stepped past Tiago, signaling for him to follow. He was walking in the opposite direction of the shallows.

“This isn’t the way to my sister,” Tiago said matter of fact. Anvindr didn’t even turn to him as he replied,

“But it is the way to help save her.”

They walked through the city, and civilians continuously gave him pitying looks as they walked past. Did they think he was being arrested or something? He’s only 8. Then again, he did kill two men.

They stopped in front of a large gate, a name in large bold lettering on an arch above the gate reading. ‘School of Pride and Fury.’ It was the Knights Academy. What could they possibly get here?

Anvindr pushed open the gate, leading Tiago inside. Tiago looked left and right; armored teenagers were everywhere, some wearing partial plating, others in fully decorated knights’ armor.

However, to his surprise, there were also mages in robes, high hats, and archers with crossbows strapped to their backs.

“I thought this was a knight’s academy?” Tiago asks,

“Think of it more as an academy that breeds protectors. Knights are the biggest symbol of that idea; use your father, for example.” People greeted Anvindr as they walked by.

They were following a path in a large courtyard that led to a courtyard with three statues at its center. Plaques at the bottom read, ‘Varuna, Goddess of justice,’ ‘Aegis, God of shield,’ ‘Hybris, God of Pride.’

High-tier gods, notably the goddess of justice, being a 7-star god and the currently ruling family of the country they resided in Dominion.

Three large buildings are on each side of the courtyard beside the entrance. They veered left, where Tiago noticed fewer mages around them.

He assumed the area he was going to must be where the knights learn. The building followed the same themes as the rest of the city, very Victorian, reminding him of his time in the S.A.S. in the United Kingdom.

The building was large and was at least eight floors high. They walked straight through the main entrance; Anvindr hadn’t said anything other than a small greeting to passing peers.

They walked through hallways, which had classes in session.

Tiago could see numerous students idly paying attention to the teacher.

All in armor, some even leaning on the hilts of blades, it must be normalized to carry weapons, at least in this school.

Eventually, they make it to a different building sector, stopped by double doors with a plate that reads ‘Infirmary’ on the top.

“This will take too long to heal, dammit,” Tiago exclaimed,

“Not for minor injuries like those.”

Tiago was dumbfounded; none of his injuries were minor, and they would all individually take weeks to heal, at least— his broken ribs would.

As they entered the room, the color scheme changed from velvet browns to soft blues on the walls as he pushed open one of the room’s doors.

Inside are two chairs, a gurney, and multiple cabinets lining the room—a large window backing the gurney that shines afternoon light into the building.

Anvindr immediately searched through the cupboards, only stopping his rummaging to take out miscellaneous items—a syringe, two liquid bottles, bandages, and another bottle with green liquid inside.

There was no way in hell Tiago was letting him put that syringe anywhere near him,

He turned to leave sneakily, “Wind force.” Anvindr raised his hand, arm outstretched, as a gust of wind slammed the door shut.

Tiago turns, and Anvindr stands next to a seat he points to.

“Listen, I hardly know you; I am not letting you inject me with random liquids.”

“Why are you afraid of needles?” He asked,

“No, I’m not afraid of needles; I’m afraid of random armored men trying to put needles in me.” Tiago retorted.

“It’s a stabilization liquid, taken from essence trees; when injected into your bloodstream, it amplifies the repair process. I’m sure your father has given you some before.”

Now that he thought about it, whenever he was injured, Joseph or his father would feed him a disgusting green mixture, and he would recover much faster.

“The stable is for your bones; this padding will do for your wounds. Just dab it onto the cloth and strap it on.” He passes Tiago the equipment and gestures to the seat again,

“I won’t force you to use it, but every second wasted is a chance to lose your sister, so I’ll let you be the decider.” Anvindr walks past Tiago, pushing open the door to leave the room.

“In the meantime, I’m going to get a friend to help us; he is good at finding people, and since you have no idea what you’re doing, he can help us. You stay here.”

Tiago opens his mouth to protest, but Anvindr slams the door shut, and Tiago can hear his metal boots clunking away.

He stares at the syringe suspiciously. If the knight had wanted to harm him, he could’ve just left him behind. He also would have no reason to hurt him when all the other students had seen him leading him here. ‘Fine’. He makes up his mind.

He fills the syringe with the green liquid labelled ‘Stable,’ flexing his arm to find the vein he injects directly into it. Immediately, he feels a rush through his body that makes him keel forward.

He could feel his ribs begin getting less and less painful by the second; it was a strange sensation. Immediately, Tiago began dabbing the red liquid labeled ‘Regen’ on the cloth and strapping it to his open wounds, especially on his hip.

The wounds begin closing, and he feels tingling on his skin. Tiago lets out a sigh of relief.

He closes his eyes briefly, running the situation in his head repeatedly. If everyone had access to some form of magic, did that man Dargor’s magic have something to do with his abnormal strength?

Not knowing what kind of magic or abilities anyone could have throws him off his game. Although, from what he could see, most heavily relied on it.

At least the woman and her combat were minimal; Tiago hopes to close the gap with just technique himself; otherwise, he may become obsolete.

He felt a slight tapping on the bridge of his nose. Opening his eyes quickly; the afternoon light had gone completely; had he fallen asleep?

In front of a new person, he stands before Tiago. He had dark brown irises and curly black hair that fell to his shoulders. He also wore leather slacks and what looked to be a crossbow on his back.

“So you’re the kid, huh?” He asked, pulling his hand away from him.

Tiago blinked. Anvindr stood in the corner of the room.

Who was this guy?