Hypothesis testing required I work on the lizard tail. Odysseus, Cicero and I had shared a conversation about how the magic of animals were more reliable because they were narrower in focus, and I wanted to see if the same held true for the dismembered lizard tail.

After cutting off a part of the tail I began to skin it. The work reminded me of home, traditionally skinning was a man’s work, but Grandma hadn’t had the same luxuries after Grandpa had died and my aunts and uncles had moved to the city. She’d taught me when I’d been old enough to hold a knife, shortly after which the job had been given over to me.

Lizards were a different beast to goats or sheep, which meant the job was sloppy, but this wasn’t about efficiency. I managed to get a strip of leather free and tested it against the stone floor and pinching; as if it were putty, the stone floor moulded beneath my fingers, bulging and stretching under my control.

I smiled, imagining a pair of gloves that let me could help me control the earth. It felt like possibilities started to open up: the balcony brought free access to the outside and with some practice the leather gloves would augment and climbing ability I manged to pick up. There were still complications, I was on an island and I’d have to find a way to get off, and beyond that there was thinking of a plan to get back home, but…this was at least a tangible step.

For now I used the gloves to make a secret compartment in the floor to store my book and anything I managed to pick up along the way. It also meant I wouldn’t have to be worried about keeping notes – a place to collect my thoughts.

I wasn’t the only Champion in this place. Owain had alluded to it while talking to Odysseus and Allycea. Whoever they were didn’t make them my ally, but they would be someone who understood what it was to be in another world and I really needed that right now.

Rowan was someone else in the wings. He was the one I was supposed to be working against as Champion, but from everything Owain said I wasn’t sure the story was as clear cut as what Cicero had made me think. If I did manage to escape the castle, then he was also someone I could tap for help.

If the man was willing to give prisoners a second chance, then he seemed like a better option than the castle.

Then there was the war. Everything around that felt strange because there didn’t feel like there was enough urgency. There was still enough time for me to get social and battle training, Allycea and Owain had been able to carve out time to go hunting for sport, and not once since my arrival here had I heard great battles for land. Instead there’d been news of people trying to steal coppers from mines and how they’d been executed.

That didn’t sound anything like wars I was used to, and it was still confusing what role they expected me to play in it.

There weren’t any answers, but writing things down held root them in reality, it also reminded me that I would have to venture out into the world once more and learn more so I understood this world – enabling me to pick apart the truth from propaganda.

That’ll need me to go out there, though, I thought, feeling a wave of dread wash over and sap whatever energy I’d regained in the days following the hunt.

I wasn’t ready.

The hunt was still something that was too close Every time I slept I was plagued by dreams of Jaslynn pushing me in front of a spider; my feet slapping against water as I tried to run, only to be called a coward and the weight of my idiocy weighing me down. I wanted help, screamed for it, but it was always with the knowledge that none would be offered to me – I was alone.

Part of a healthy mind is friends, a part of me thought. Being able to socialise.

But I couldn’t imagine being able make any here. I only knew a few people, all of whom had ulterior motives and who hadn’t yet earned my trust. There was no one that I could drop my guard around, except…

Surefoot didn’t lie. But he also wasn’t in the castle, at least as far as I knew.

I got up and went to my study, reaching for my inkwell and a quill, then a coarse piece of parchment.

Dedrick, I wrote slow and careful, my calligraphy lessons intruding my mind when I would have otherwise jotted out a quick scrawl. He was my master of the household and probably Odysseus’ spy. If he is in the castle, be so kind as to send an invitation to Duke Surefoot of the Briarpatch Dens. I would be honoured if he would enjoy an evening meal with me.

A small box sat to one side, diagrams carved in the inside – a messenger box. When the ink dried I folded the letter in half and put it in the box; the bottom rippled and after a of sigh the letter disappeared.

That done, I went out onto the balcony and sat, enjoying a cool breeze. At some point I closed my eyes and started to meditate, practising with my spatial sense – getting an outline of a person then pushing aside for a sense of where everyone was before changing the filter so I sensed different creatures.

A sigh caught my ear and I went over to the messenger box, heart picking up because there was the chance that Surefoot wasn’t here. I opened the letter and after reading it, smiled. He was back and had agreed to attend dinner.

Which meant I needed Dedrick’s help.

“No offence meant, my lord,” the man said, his voice a monotone. “However, you would have done well to have told me of this engagement in advance.”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” I said as I watched the table being moved and an ornate rug being brought in.

“Again, my lord, no offence meant—”

“You don’t have to say that, Dedrick,” I interrupted. “I screwed up. Feel free to tell me without being afraid of me getting upset. This is your area of expertise and part of being here is being open to learning.”

Dedrick gave me a short nod. “The Urocy are of a different culture, my lord,” he said. “When one is hosting a guest, it is good manners to take on their culture.”

“I get that,” I said with a sigh. “Can you give me any pointers? Maybe I didn’t think this through.”

“The Urocy do not take well to lies,” he said, “nor do they take well to others thinking they are lying. Do not give them the impression that either is true.”

“We’ve spoken a little and I got that part,” I said, taking a deep breath and holding it.

“Then you know the worst of offences,” said Dedrick. “Duke Surefoot will have spent enough time in human company and should work in your favour.”

I nodded absently.

Odysseus had taught me about the human history of Althor and how to move within the ranks of the nobility, but he hadn’t said a lot about normal people or how navigate interactions with the Urocy. It filled me with apprehension to think of our first interaction, when I’d offended him without my meaning to. How would the night end if something similar happened?

The rug was laid out and swept, dust filling the air. A pair of pillows were placed across each other, then candles were placed around the room, which was odd when we had luminous gems; paintings, putting together a theme of the natural environment in colours of orange and red, all set low to the ground.

Watching them work felt strange so I moved to my study to push myself through some history books. My last conversation with Odysseus hadn’t been good, and if I to repair our frayed relationship then I’d need to make up for it in a way he liked – history was my attempt at broaching the divide.

Maybe you should have invited him too, a part of me thought, but as pragmatic as it would be, I didn’t want him here. I wanted the evening with Surefoot to be on the lighter side and I was certain that wasn’t something I would get if the prince was in attendance.

The sun eventually set. I washed and was dressed. Then I waited, butterflies in my stomach and my foot bouncing with nervous energy. His eventual arrival caught me by surprise. I had sensed Dedrick coming, but Surefoot’s presence hadn’t been something I’d detected with my spatial sense.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

The Urocy aren’t human, but they’re people, I thought. A few impressions appeared in my head alongside those of other humans.

“Presenting,” said Dedrick as he opened the doors, “Duke Surefoot of the Briarpatch Dens.”

Surefoot was short with red fur and a long, thin face. Today he wore silver, with a necklace around his neck that shone with sapphires and matching bangles in each of his limbs; he wore earrings in one ear, each of different metals, lined with small sapphires. Surefoot entered where Dedrick stood aside, his expression – lit by the glow from flickering candles and the silver of the moon from the balcony – was unreadable. My master of the household closed the doors softly while Surefoot continued.

“Greetings, Duke Surefoot,” I said when he got close enough.

“Greetings to you, Champion Jordan,” he said, bowing with one paw extended. I mirrored the motion without the extended paw. Surefoot went to a cushion and sat. I waited. “You are free to sit, Champion, and let us do away with formalities, they have no place during meals.”

I nodded and sat cross-legged, looking down on Surefoot. My brain still found it a little hard to separate the Urocy in front of me from an ordinary fox, or the fact the words he said didn’t match how his mouth moved. I kept myself from doing anything stupid, looking at him in the eye without staring.

“Food will be served shortly,” I said and smiled. “I remember the last time we talked you recommended that I have food when extending an invitation.”

He nodded. “It is the sociable thing to do.” Surefoot looked around, his eyes taking everything in. “Prince Odysseus must have taught you well if you know to have this seating arrangement. Many a noble sit at their high tables which are an inconvenience for my kind.”

I frowned. “I wish I could say that’s true, but it isn’t. Dedrick, my master of the household, is the one who prepared this. I didn’t really plan anything and he chided me for it.”

“A brave man to chide one who is above him in standing.”

“Uh…chiding might be an exaggeration,” I said. “Is that as offensive as lying? I realised today that I hadn’t learnt a lot about your people’s culture and I’m embarrassed about that.”

“We learned to exaggerate in interactions with humans,” he said. “There are those of us who are orthodox and they do not brook exaggerations. But I am no such person. Part of my duties as Duke is acting as an ambassador for my people.”

“Is the heir of the Elmwood Urocy the same?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “The Urocy of the Briarpatch and those of Elmwood are two separate peoples with different cultures, different gods and different interactions with humanity. They have in their halls the Temporal school with its human students, thus they are greatly in touch with humanity – though not many call the court home.”

“Huh,” I said and I turned a little before the door opened. Dedrick and primly dressed servers came in, carrying circular trays with different types of food. I expected them to put the food at the centre of the rug, but they split them apart, giving Surefoot his own selection of trays and me my own.

A lot of his were different forms of meat, cooked in different ways, strips on one plate and chunks on another, and then an engraved bowl filled with water, another with mead; for me it was steak and different vegetables drenched in gravy.

The servers left.

“In my culture it’s frowned upon to talk while eating,” I said. “I don’t know if the same is true for you too. I’m just saying this because I don’t want to be rude and be silent as I eat.”

“For us it is a rowdy occasion,” he said and I detected a smile. “Communal bowls are shared between families and it can be…violent. It is a belief that is starting to become unpalatable of late because humans have so heavily warped it, but our people believe that we Urocy are descendants of the great fox, Uros. They, unlike foxes, were gifted an Urayemi – a soul – and this elevated them into a thinking being. Thinking beings though we are, we still hold customs that have been seen in foxes.”

“What’s this about, then?” I asked, pointing at the rug and the food. “Is this close to how your people eat or is this something for humans? Because I know back home that’s something people like me did. There were certain things we couldn’t do or certain ways we had to look if we wanted to make it in the world.”

Surefoot chuckled. “This is a meeting in the middle,” he said. “Between the Urocy and humanity. They found the way we eat discomforting, but we are unable to use spoons. Over years integrating into the Commonality and trading memories, most Urocy fell into this tradition. So much that people think this is how all Urocy enjoy their meals.”

“This is all so interesting,” I said and I had a ton more questions I wanted to ask. “But maybe we should eat before the food gets cold.”

He nodded.

I didn’t stare at him as he ate because that would be strange. My focus was on me and my food – eating the vegetables first because it reminded me of Grandma.

“I am surprised that you did not attend Princess Allycea’s dinner engagement,” said Surefoot, which I took as cue that the eating part of the meal was done and could chat again.

“You were there?” I asked.

He nodded. “I was back from my home and received an invitation to attend. I was disappointed that a hunt had occurred while I was away. I would have gladly enjoyed participating.”

My expression scrunched at the mention of the hunt, but I shrugged. “I wasn’t feeling up to the dinner. The battle came after…a lot of studying and I needed some time to centre myself. It was rude, but it wouldn’t have turned out well if I attended. I would have been a grump.”

“Ah,” he said. “You speak of the exhaustion. My kind knows it well – though since humans are without Urayemi, they often do not understand the inner workings of the mind.”

“I hope this isn’t offensive, but what’s an Urayemi?”

“I am about to show it to you,” Surefoot said after a moment’s silence. “But know, if you were to steal mine, it would be tantamount to killing me and no doubt war would break in Althor.”

“Uh…I wasn’t even thinking about it,” I said.

Surefoot looked down and opened his mouth, as if he was about to throw up. A moment later he did and he let out a sphere I knew too well – a Memory Sphere, swirling with white vapour, fell onto the ground.

“You have Memory Spheres?” I said.

Surefoot bared his teeth. “The name given to them by humans strips them of their importance,” he said. “My Urayemi is the store of all my knowledge, from a babe into a young man. It bears the teachings of many before me, my essence more than the brain and body which will eventually cease. My Urayemi will live on, teaching those who follow.”

I swallowed, feeling uncomfortable. “Then…what about the Urayemi that was given to me?” I said. “The one that makes me able to talk to you?”

“A spoil of war,” Surefoot said, the words hard.

My stomach flipped. “That’s seriously fucked up.”

Surefoot nodded and swallowed his Urayemi again.

“The Urayemi is a powerful thing, but as with everything, humanity has a way of changing it to suit them. Where we speak of Uros being who we descend from, humans say that we were nought but foxes in the beginning, that one of them gleaned the importance of our Urayemi when we could not, and in swallowing our souls it was they who imparted a piece of themselves within us, thus giving us intellect.”

“I know what that feels like,” I said, voice low.

Guess no matter where you go people are still people, and prejudice will be a thing.

“Is that exaggeration, Champion?” he asked.

I shook my head. “There are white people in my world just like here,” I told him. “And they conquered places in my world. They made people like me slaves, and they told us that God created us to work for them, to be said slaves.”

“Then you understand more than most,” said Surefoot.

“Are things better now?” I asked. “For the Urocy?”

“We have a measure of power even if we are not as great in number as we were in the beginning,” he said. “We have our own duchies. The Elmwood Urocy have an advanced understanding of temporal magic, just as my people are skilled earthen mages.”

“Why does that sound like a threat?”

“When you are not overwhelmed by surprised you can be smart, Champion,” he said. Not answering the question but not lying too.

Is that an opening? Is that your people being dissatisfied and willing to help me out?

It was too much to hope.

“Can we cycle back to something,” I said. “Before we came to this we were talking about mental exhaustion. I’m sort of interested in that.”

“I have felt countless minds and memories as I have grown,” he said. “Our people have thus learned that healing the mind is an important part of the Healing Arts that are often overlooked in human society, though the Urocy’s induction into the Healer’s Guild has seen an increase in its importance. There are problems, however. The human and the Urocy mind differ, and solving of one issue is not solving of another.”

I let out a chuckle. “It feels so validating for someone to name it,” I said. “I talked to Allycea about it, and…even though she could probably understand it a little, she didn’t give it the weight it should.”

“That is one of the gifts of the Urayemi,” he said. “We can share our experiences, and after a long enough time one can see the greater pattern in the functioning of the mind.”

“I’ve always wanted to have telepathy,” I said. “After a long enough time you start to learn about how many misunderstandings can occur with speech. Words can have different meanings on an individual or a cultural level, or different weightings and stuff like that, and that’s not mentioning how brains can just be wired differently.”

“Before we were hunted,” said Surefoot, “our people did not speak as we do today. We shared snippets of memories with each other through our Urayemi, thus creating greater understanding between tribes.”

“That must have been nice.”

“In some ways,” he said, “and not in others.”

He yawned, mouth opening wide and tongue stretching out.

“This was really nice,” I said. “Thank you for eating dinner with me. It’s…asking you here was a bit selfish, but I think I really needed human contact.”

“I will admit that this was different to what I thought it would be,” he said. “I appreciated it.”

I frowned. “Would it sour the evening if I asked what you thought it would be?”

“Perhaps,” he said, “but I will answer, nonetheless. I had thought you knew that I would stand in my father’s place when you are evaluated and sought to ingratiate yourself to me before then.”

I shook my head. “That’s not what this was about.”

“No,” he said. “My kind despises lies and therefore we have learnt to see through them. There is an earnestness in you, Champion. When we last spoke I saw a desperation in your eyes, a carefulness in speech that was present today and yet different. As I said, I enjoyed this evening.”

“Can we do this again?” I asked. “Just chat? I appreciate the perspective you offer from the history I’ve been learning.”

“Of course, Champion,” he said and stood. I did the same. “Wishing you a well spent evening.”

“You too, Your Grace.”

And with his leaving I had a lot more mental energy than when the day had started. I called Dedrick to clean up while going to my study to write down some of the interesting things I’d learned. I didn’t know if any of it would be useful, but I was just all round filled with more hope.