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Chapter 4: Too far to Reach

“Everyone has their own ambitions and the people within the Reaching Flame were no different. Some genuinely wanted to just reach out to offer aid to Haven. This was quickly scrutinised as Haven had well and truly recovered. Others wanted to sneak through the immigration process and live on the Station of the Goddess under the guise of a charitable outreach. This irked the Generals quite a bit but they couldn’t exactly turn away a charity. Then there were other still that had a more sinister agenda.”

Summoner’s Sojourn (Kira)

Family Honour

The Kurasama Estate was nowhere near as big as the Bladebreaker, and they certainly didn’t own the entire mote. The Kurasamas were just one family under the House Kuriki, after all. While their mote was much bigger than the Bladebreaker lands, there were at least six houses that lived on the mote with at least a dozen ‘vassal’ families beneath each. That did not mean they were cramped. In fact, the Kurasama Estate had quite a spacious home fashioned off the Diatollian style. Kira’s rank as Lady Summoner of House Kuriki had afforded the rest of her family a degree of wealth and prestige as well.

As the morning approached and the warmth from Chrysalis Core washed over the Spring Lotuses in the lake at the back of the property, Kira turned her gaze away from the mote and the rest of her House to the vast forests of Geo Haven.

Somewhere down there, he is getting stronger, she mused quietly.

She had been aware that Jack Denver Clarke had restrained himself when they fought at Pinnacle and she had been very curious about that technique that Rayne Noam had told him to cancel. Now that she knew what it was, she couldn’t help but shudder and feel a terrible void of fear in her chest.

“Rupture,” she whispered to herself quietly.

A technique that could permanently damage her ability to use magic. Summoning, the very art that had elevated her to rank of Lady Summoner and brought honour to her family, could be cut off from her at a single instant. Worse yet was that it wasn’t a killing move, at least not immediately. She would suffer the constant ‘hole’ in her magical network and ‘bleed’ out all her magical energies slowly and agonisingly until she died.

To think, Clarke had that technique this entire time.

Her fists shook with fury and she bit her lower lip, still hidden by her mask.

“My dear, you will crinkle your kimono.”

Kira started and immediately turned around to face her mother, Sakura Kurasama. Like her, Sakura had jet-black hair but when she wasn’t wearing a summer dress and cavorting with the socialites of Haven, she had the hair tied up in a traditional bun with ivory sticks capped with gold to add some added flair. Those very same sticks had the emblem of the Kurasama Family engraved into the structure - the image of a blue lotus flower with a star sitting at its centre. The emblem was present in her predominantly blue kimono, drawn in white that matched the edges of her traditional dress.

Kira wore something similar though her kimono was also decorated with the image of two golden keys crossing one another over an intricate padlock – the official sign of a Summoner. Her hair was too short to tie up in a bun so she was allowed to keep it untied.

“Oka-san,” she greeted, bowing respectfully towards her mother.

“I wish you would stop using such dated greetings, Kira,” her mother said with a shake of her head. “As much as it is amazing that you continue to uphold the traditions of our heritage, I keep telling you to just call me ‘mom’.”

“I know, mother,” she replied with a sigh and straightening. “But I do our ancestors honour by continuing to emulate the life they lived.”

Her mother swept past her, positioning herself at the edge of the wooden platforms that were suspended over the lake. “Does this emulation involve chasing a boy who saved you all over the Station trying to kill him?”

Kira bowed her head in shame, catching her reflection in the clear, still waters of the lake. Water was rare of Diatollia also known as the Station of the Moon. So when House Kuriki moved to Haven, they made sure that water dominated their architecture. All of her family’s home was suspended in the middle of the lake with traditional wooden platforms connecting the various parts of the tall, three storey-home. The brilliant blue Spring Lotuses that her family was known for breeding covered the entire base the house and even a little further into the lake. The other families that made their homes similarly had their estates built in such a fashion with the main ‘castle’ of House Kuriki sitting at the centre of the lake. Generally, the closer the proximity to the main house, the more ‘honour’ the family had in the standing of the hierarchy. The Kurasamas were the fourth closest to the main house.

“That is not the reason why I chase, Clarke-sama.”

“I know, I know,” Sakura said, waving a hand idly in her direction. “It is to regain your honour. An honour you never lost, by the way.” Kira was about to protest but her mother made a slicing gesture through the air which silenced her. “You have made news quite recently, Kira. First as a chaperone to Pinnacle students, the premiere school on Haven which produces the most Paladins out of the other academies and then thwarting an attack at the Bladebreaker estate.”

Sakura placed a well-manicured finger against her cheek and tapped it gently. “You know, I had honestly believed that you had taken the job at Pinnacle because you were over your obsession with Clarke. Then I realised that he was the one that thwarted the earlier assassination attempt that happened in – of all places – Pinnacle Academy. Then he was there as well at the Bladebreaker estate.”

Where Sakura Kurasama was not a fighter by any means of the word, she had a shrewd mind and a tongue as sharp as any blade. While her husband, Toshino, worked hard for the Kuriki energy company as a manager, Sakura played her hand in scandals, rumours and gossip, making connections and networking to her family’s own fortune. Kira could feel the blade of that tongue slashing at her with every seemingly amused word her mother threw at her.

“Mother –” she began.

“You are still going to Incendius, yes?”

Kira nodded shortly. “Yes, mother. I will be. I will be accompanying Clarke-sama as well.”

“Good.”

That single word stunned her but she quickly braced herself for a backhanded comment. No doubt her mother would say that perhaps the trip to Incendius so close to her mortal enemy may finally exhaust the bloodlust in her.

“There is a family matter that I think would be of use to you and House Kuriki.”

That completely caught her off guard. “Mother?”

Sakura turned around and faced her daughter. “What do you know of the Shinohi Family?”

Kira strained her memory of the other families under House Kuriki but did not remember one called Shinohi. “I can honestly say that I do not.”

Her mother’s shrewd eyes flickered momentarily with disappointment. “They fall under House Narumagotai. One of House Kuriki’s allies.”

She frowned slightly. Though not as well-versed in the politics that surrounded House Kuriki, she knew that those families and Houses that had moved away from Diatollia had done so in the attempt to leave behind the constant inter-house fighting that occurred on the Second Station. Though all of Diatollia answered to the Emperor, countless Houses vied for the Emperor’s favour and if that meant using subterfuge or murder to cause another House into disfavour, so be it. Families were not immune to such scrutiny either for any dishonour a Family suffered was inflicted upon the ruling House.

“I thought we were all allies under Lord Arawani,” she commented.

Lord Arawani was the one responsible for initially setting up the mote and was ultimately part of a conglomerate the merged Diatollian worth ethics with Havenese innovation and technology. He was part of his own House – House Aruka – that didn’t have any joining families. Many called him the ‘Shogun’ as the mote and ultimately the corporation that the other Houses served under – Aruka Industries – was all under his name.

“One would think,” Sakura chuckled softly. “But just as it is hard for you to let go of your grudge against that Clarke boy, so too is it hard for those of us who migrated here from the Station of the Moon to let go of the old ways.”

Her mother glided quietly past her. Without so much as a word, Kira followed her down the winding paths of their family home, all suspended over water. Many of their servants were employees from outside of the families and they trimmed the bonsai trees, polished the lacquered wood and made sure every inch of the traditional family home was clean. The beautiful creamy-coloured tatami were kept clean and sturdy with both magic and delicate cleaning procedures. The curled, rooftops had the same dark blue colouration as their kimono and even had the emblem of Kurasama Family engraved into each one. That same emblem was drawn in dark, almost black blue against the paper frames of the shoji.

Sakura led them into the home, sliding aside one of the paper walls. As always, they took off their wooden sandals. Their servants already knew exactly what to do as soon as they entered. When the duo sat opposite to one another on the cushiony, blue velvet zabuton, tea, some sweets and mochi was served on the dark, black, lacquered chabudai with panels of pearls forged into the wood to look like the family emblem.

The tea had the same sweet, floral taste of the traditional Spring Lotus tea that the Kurasama Family was known for. Added with the deep, blue hue, it was considered one of their major products which Sakura managed entirely from a little tea shop that she only opened whenever she wanted in the local markets. Thanks to a viral marketing campaign and the fact that she only opened sporadically, her customers tended to be rather opulent and flocked to her store in droves.

Deny the public something and the more they will want it, Kira thought pensively.

“How do you like the mochi?” her mother asked.

Kira regarded the light, clear, almost-crystal like balls in front of her. Using traditional chopsticks, she gently plucked one of them from the tray offered to her, deciding to pick up one of the pink ones. As much as she hated anything that was stereotypically ‘girly’, her favourite colour was still pink and strawberries were still her favourite fruit and flavour. Pink was normally associated with strawberries so it was natural for her to pick up the odd, clear gelatine. No bigger than a bite, she pulled down her mask and gently placed it into her lips. The moment crossed the threshold of her rosy lips, the mochi seemed to explode and dissolve entirely into water.

“Ah…” she gasped, drinking the little morsel but still getting a delightful burst of strawberry.

“They’re Sutabatsuo Mochi,” explained Sakura with a smile. “A wonderful piece created by the Shinohi Family.”

“They are delightful, mother.”

“Indeed. They would do well with my tea. Try it.”

I see where you are going with this, oka-san.

Kira did drink some of the Spring Lotus tea and had to admit that the much more delicate flavour of the tea washed down the powerful explosion of flavour from the mochi. Together, they worked well as she imagined that each of the little spheres of gelatine would contain a different flavour. One mochi followed by a bit of tea would pave the way for a different experience from another piece.

“Did your schemes not garner you the rights to produce this, mother?” Kira asked.

“My dear, no,” Kira chuckled softly. “Nothing so crass. I am simply concerned about the future of the Shinohi, their employees and this fine product.”

Please mother. You know I have no patience for all this elusive talk.

Sensing her impatience, Sakura went to the point. “The son and heir of the Shinohi Family has been terribly disgraced. He was found to cause productivity in his factory to drop dramatically by being far too lax to the non-Diatollian workers.”

It was something that Kira, herself, found somewhat disgusting about those that didn’t share the Diatollian work ethic. Havenese law ensured that every person had at least four personal days every year on top of at least two weeks of sick leave and two months of accrued annual leave. In Diatollia, there was no such thing as ‘leave’ and people either worked or didn’t get paid. It was a culture shock to migrating Diatollians that they could not work and still get paid. Naturally, those not from Diatollia took advantage of such privileges. While not against the law, Diatollians considered it a loss of productivity and a dishonour.

Not that non-Diatollians even consider their honour.

“He will be arguing that he was simply following the law of Haven,” Sakura said, “but Lord Arawani and the House Court has been convinced away from the eyes of the public to ensure that Isamu Shinohi is publicly shamed. This will force his father, Minamito Shinohi into one of two options.” She folded her hands on her lap, a smile on her face. “Either exile his son to Diatollia where he would likely commit seppuku to regain his honour as suicide. However, no matter how ritualistic and honourable it may seem, is considered a sin here on Haven. The alternative is he step down himself and leave the rule of his branch of the conglomerate in the hands of his youngest son who is barely fourteen years old.” Sakura cupped her tea in both hands and brought it to her lips. “Under the guidance of a trusted advisor, of course.”

“You?” Kira asked dryly.

“My dear, of course not. He will choose someone within his family. Though I am quite close with his wife whom I have been teaching to be a strong, independent woman who can run the company without being under the thumb of a man.”

Of course you were, Oka-san. No doubt when she becomes quite accustomed to the world of subterfuge and business, you will propose a partnership.

Sakura lowered her cup her smile remaining but her eyes hard and calculating. “But I have it on good authority that Minamito will invoke the ancient tradition of Shokan no Tabi to save his son.”

Kira felt her spine go stiff as a rod and every bone in her body lock in place.

Shokan no Tabi was known as the Journey of Redemption. A shamed individual could undertake the Tabi that would be set by the highest authority available in order to regain their honour. Epics had been written about dishonoured individuals who underwent Shokan no Tabi handed down by the gods or the current Emperor and in the wisdom of the quest givers, the individual would learn an important lesson and regain their honour.

But Shokan no Tabi was known by another name.

Fukanona Tabi – The Impossible Journey. So named because most of the time, such quests were considered suicide in their own right. Practice of Shokan no Tabi died out centuries ago because there was a very good chance that those who undertook it would die having never completed the journey and thus pile more shame upon themselves than to regain it through the quest.

Kira’s own quest to fight Jack Denver Clarke was a sort of bastardisation of the tradition.

“You would rather he just hand over the secrets of these mochi to you, mother?” she asked sharply.

Sakura giggled softly and waved at her absently. “There would be no challenge in such a thing. No, my concern is over the task that young Isamu would undertake. It is something on Incendius.”

Ah, now I see.

“You want me to keep an eye on him,” Kira concluded.

“Yes. But keep it subtle, my dear daughter.”

“Because should he regain his honour and my intervention be found out, it would be the word of a man who survived a Fukanona Tabi against my own. Even in my rank as Lady Summoner, I would be at a disadvantage.”

“You would have the full might of the Kurasama Family behind you and I would burn everything we have if it’ll save you, my talented daughter. But I would rather it not come to that.”

Kira believed every word her mother said. Sakura Kurasama was very devoted to her only daughter and didn’t treat her like some piece of meat to be sold on the market like some of the more traditional Diatollian ‘princesses’. Kira had actually seen one of her mother’s contingency plans which involved burning most of their assets to the ground in order to hide any shame on their family and on Kira. In fact, the fire that almost burned down their estate during the Fall of Haven was caused because of part of that contingency plan being enacted.

Kira set down her own teacup. “I would need to know exactly what it is that Isamu is going to be doing before I can shadow him.”

“Which is why we will be attending his hearing,” Sakura said cheerily. “Come on. It will begin soon.”

Just like her to time everything down to the minute.

Kira quickly finished her tea, ignoring just how scalding hot it was and rose to follow her mother. In keeping with Diatollian tradition, they didn’t use any of the hovercars to get from one house to the palace. They had Skimmers, small boats with inbuilt palanquin to shade them from the light of Chrysalis Core. A pair of wing-like hydrofoils were placed on both sides of the boat, lifting the actual hull off the water’s surface. An intricate Hydromancy spell propelled them across the water without causing much of a disruption. It kept the surface as still and glass-like as much as possible.

They both boarded the boat, sitting opposite one another in the palanquin, perched on the comfortable couches with the velvety blue curtains drawn. The helmsman began the trip over. There was no sound from the boat as it crossed to the palace.

“I suppose you have an inkling of exactly what Tabi Minamito has planned for his son?”

Sakura gave her daughter a faint smile. “I do, in fact.” She leaned casually against the cushions, waving a hand through the air. Though the wooden frame of the palanquin appeared archaic, it was actually quite sophisticated and imbued with Havenese technology. Sakura liked to pretend she observed and honoured the ancient Diatollian traditions and designs. A shimmering semi-transparent light panel appeared in front of her which she handed over to Kira.

The Lady Summoner examined the contents of the report and frowned. “You can’t be serious. This is… is just impossible!”

“I know,” answered the matriarch of the Kurasama Family. “Which is likely why the Court and Lord Arawani will approve of it.”

“Taldaluur,” Kira whispered. “I’ve heard of a secret weapon the Church was keeping beneath the Sun Spire should the Lupus Civil War ever reach Corona. I always dismissed it as rumours and conspiracy theories.”

“Most of what is said about Taldaluur is likely conjecture. However, I have it on good authority that it does exist and is located somewhere in a place called the ‘Underspire’. The Church didn’t intend to keep it as a form of repelling the Custodia Lupus should they ever attack Corona. No, Taldaluur was around for far longer than that. Since ancient times, apparently. I don’t know what it is or why the Church has kept it there but you can rest assured it exists. I suspect that Isamu will be tasked with retrieving Taldaluur in an attempt to discredit the Church and curry more favour with the Generals which, naturally, will propel our little collection to greater glory.”

“And bring honour back to Isamu,” Kira murmured. “It is a desperate gambit. One built on a prayer.”

Sakura waved a hand absently through the air, turning the flourish for her to brush aside the curtains and see where they were. “Prayers become plans when you do not place your trust on the whimsy of fickle gods.” She pulled away from the curtains. “We are here.”

Kira straightened her back, checked to make sure there were no wrinkles on her kimono and then mentally braced herself for the drudge that was sure to follow. Court had always been her weakness. Sakura often mentioned that she took after her father; a true man of action and never one to sit still for too long. The Kurasama matriarch, however had infinite patience and a great ear for the little nuances of Diatollian Court that often could lead to the rise of downfall of any family or, in some cases, even a House.

The Skimmer parked in one of the many docks reserved for Families and they were escorted out by their servants. On the rare occasions that Kira had gone back to Diatollia, she remembered having to be escorted by armed guards wherever she went. She even remembered the palanquin being lifted off the boat and carried all the way to her destination. Everyone on Diatollia had to be on guard against the machinations of the Court.

They made their way onto the wooden platforms of the palace and she once again was awed at the sheer size of Lord Arawani’s estate. It towered at over twenty storeys tall apparently inspired by Xaosian architecture that favoured multi-storey skyscrapers whereas Havenese architecture tended to have tall ceilings and spires but few floors while hovering. Traditional Diatollian designs were incorporated, however, such as the dark, sweeping tiled rooftops that looked like skirts around every level, the paper walls and well-groomed trees

Together with her mother and their escorts, the moved into the palace. Many of the families had sent representatives for such a trial was rare in to the Diatollians that had migrated to Haven. She heard that it was common practice back in her homeland. That said, the courtroom of the palace was still fairly large. The Kurasama Family was naturally placed amongst other members of House Kuriki but given their mediocre standing, they sat in the middle. Those who were considered the closest and most honoured by Lord Awarani were positioned closer to him in the broad, circular chamber.

Awarani was a portly man with a thin beard running across the edges of his face and over his upper lip. His black hair was constantly dyed to hide his age and he employed quite a bit of magic to keep up his youthful appearance. His severe, thin lips were rarely seen in a smile even though he was considered a jovial and welcoming lord. He sat farthest away from the entrance, directly opposite to it across the vast, circular floor but closest to the podium where the accused would stand.

The Kurasama Family sat about halfway down the right side of Awarani. Since their lord was left-handed, they sat in the ‘less favourable’ side of the Court but not so unfavourable that they were directly opposite to Awarani where one was ‘under constant scrutiny’ of the ruling lord. It was these slight nuances of positioning and court intrigue that always frustrated Kira. She could never keep up with what was considered an insult and flattery. A reason she took up the position of a Summoner.

As the rest of the Court filtered in, Kira watched for any seats that were empty for that would indicate the position of the Shinohi Family. Though it was difficult as there would naturally be some absences. Sensing her scouting efforts, Sakura gently nudged her and turned her head a little further to their left, near the entrance.

The Shinohi Family were not favoured as much. Interesting that they would hold such a grand spectacle for a Family that would not have far to fall.

A short while later, everyone was seated. The accused made his entrance.

Isamu was escorted in. He was a handsome Leomian with a proud made tied back in a ponytail behind his head to reveal a tall, broad forehead. His fur was almost golden in colour and well kept. Broad shoulders belied a warrior’s nature and a strong stride spoke of a confident – if almost defiant – nature. Sharp red eyes gave him an exotic quality. Curiously, he had bursts of golden-brown fur that matched his mane colour sprouting from his wrists and shins. Dressed in a simple white tunic and shorts, he had already been disowned by his own Family.

Isamu took his position at the podium, a simple wooden platform that stood close to Awarani.

Kira heard one of her neighbours mentioning that this would be the closest anyone of the Shinohi would ever get to the lord.

“Isamu Shinohi,” boomed Awarani’s chancellor. The ruling lord rarely every spoke. Such was the command he held over the Houses and Families loyal to him. “You stand accused of sloth, a grave sin in the eyes of the Goddess of the Moon, Kutiel, and her consort, the Starseeker Ramiel.”

Of course they had to bring religion into this, Kira mentally groaned.

Just as the Incendians had their Sun Goddess Apollia, so too did the Diatollians have their own belief in Kutiel and Ramiel. The Church often tried to brush aside Kutiel the Water Maiden and Ramiel the Ascendant as being two of the same Apostles that had betrayed the Mother Goddess Athena but most Diatollians maintained that they were different deities. Kutiel and Ramiel were meant to be lovers but Kutiel was severely injured by demons during a skirmish. Desperate to keep her unborn child safe, Kutiel turned into the crescent-shaped Diatollia with the large, perfect sphere that stuck out from the Station her protective womb. Ramiel was supposed to have gotten so angered by the demonic invasion that came from Nebulus that he shattered the Station which gave it it’s current, fragmented shape.

“Your actions caused a rapid decline in productivity in the branch that you managed,” continued the Chancellor. “By allowing your employees extended leave without properly managing risk and coverage, you have dishonoured your Family and your House. For this, you will be given two options. Either you face exile back into Diatollia where, the Gods’ willing, you will find fortune there on your own wit and skill or you step down from your position.”

In Havenese, that would translate to resignation or an international assignment.

There was movement near the entrance and Minamito Shinohi stood up. “I invoke the rite of Shokan no Tabi!”

Excited murmuring quickly spread amongst the Court. Sakura took the moment to lean towards Kira and whisper, “He’s not much for subtly, is he?”

“His acting is obviously needs more work,” she replied.

The Chancellor did not react at first and neither did Awarani.

“I already have a proposal,” continued Minamito. “I hope you find it acceptable.”

Awarani gave the slightest of nods. The Chancellor cleared his throat, bringing silence back to the Court. Clearly there had been some behind-doors dealings that had already been done to ensure that Awarani would accept the Tabi proposal. No doubt this was how Sakura had learned of it.

“The Lord accepts your proposal, Minamito Shinohi.” He looked down fiercely upon Isamu. “Isamu Shinohi. In order to bring honour back to your name, you will undertake a task that will bring great glory not only to your Family but to your clan and Lord Awarani as well.” He paused for dramatic effect, letting his words sink in. “You are to seek out the legendary weapon Taldaluur on Incendius. It is a secret weapon that has long been rumoured to exist on the Station of the Sun either as a contingency against the Custodia Lupus invading Corona or against the Generals to re-establish Church rule. You must find it or find concrete evidence of it and present it to the Court.”

Again, more excited murmuring. The Court was devouring the proposal as a juicy scandal. Kira could already see schemes being formed for whether or not Isamu succeeded. In either eventuality, Awarani would benefit from it.

“I accept this great quest,” Isamu proclaimed proudly. “Glory and honour to Lord Awarani!”

Those words sparked a sense of curiosity in Kira. Isamu invoked Lord Awarani’s name not his House. It would be tradition to invoke the collective, not the person. It was just a slight nuance and one that she wouldn’t have given much thought to if something about it just didn’t sit well with her.

Perhaps he’s just thanking Lord Awarani for graciously accepting his offer. Minamito did seem rather nervous, perhaps fearing that Awarani might reject his offer.

The Court quietly applauded Isamu’s determination but he was quickly ushered out of the Court for some other business. It would be considered rude if Kira left now but he had every intention of catching Isamu Shinohi before he vanished out of her reach. She quickly drew a summoning rune within the folds of her kimono’s sleeves. A little Spark Skink – a tiny red lizard with six legs no bigger than her finger – skittered off away from her and quickly followed Isamu as he was escorted out.

When Court finally adjured – a gruelling two hours later – Kira excused himself from his mother’s company under the pretence of relieving herself. She quickly summoned a Searanti Serpent, a bright yellow snake-like creature that uncurled from around her arm. The Serpent’s sense of smell worked perfectly with the Skink’s uniquely undetectable pheromones. The Serpent led her directly to where Isamu sat quietly in one of the palace’s gardens. While still wearing the garbs of a dishonoured, the robes of a man the Shinohi Family was also placed beside him for when he was ready to change.

“That was quite a spectacle, Isamu-san,” she commented, quickly dismissing her Serpent. The Skink scurried away from where it had quietly hidden within the folds of his shirt and was likewise dismissed. “A well-rehearsed play if ever I saw one.”

Isamu lifted his gaze towards her, his feline red eyes burning with the defiance that his bearing exuded. “So you saw through the ruse. As should be expected from a Lady Summoner.”

“I suspect that was all just to allay the fears and rumours that swirled around your actions. Hearsay and speculation can do far more damage than an actual public shaming, after all. Especially when such a display ends with the assignment of a Fukanona Tabi.”

The lion laughed softly and got to his feet. His firm, muscular frame was clearly visible underneath the thin cloth of his white garments. Standing at an impressive 7’10’’, he loomed over Kira and would have been physically intimidating to anyone of lower standing.

“A task is only impossible if you have little confidence in yourself,” countered the heir of the Shinohi Family.

Kira refrained from scoffing. “And you seem to be oozing confidence at this point.”

“As I should given that I address someone who has so little faith in her own appearance that she hides half her face behind a mask.”

The blatant insult caught her completely off-guard. “Guard your words well in the presence of someone of a higher station to yourself.”

Isamu smirked at her, his lips curling upwards slightly in a partial snarl. “You will not enjoy your ‘higher station’ for very long, Lady Summoner.”

“Threats are not very well received no matter the language or how veiled, Isamu-san. Watch what next spills from your mouth.”

The feline leaned down towards her. She didn’t give him the pleasure of reeling back the closer he got. “Then listen to my words well, Lady Summoner. Taldaluur is only the beginning.”

He leaned forward and she immediately pulled back for fear of those fangs biting into her flesh. Instead, he reached past her and picked up the Shinohi robes that sat next to her feet. With a cocky smirk on his face, he turned his back to her and strode away, tail looping in delight at the small victory he had won over her.

Kira felt the chill of his threat run down her spine.

What did he mean by that?

Dead Tails Operations (JD)

Play Ball

The incessant ticking of the Machine was what made JD realise he was not dreaming anymore. After what had appeared to be a pleasant dream that he could no longer remember, he suddenly found himself once more within the golden cogs of the Machine. This time, he was standing perilously close to the main gear that served as Haamiah’s throne. The God of Time hovered beside him. Thankfully, the patron of the reviled Chronomancers had deigned to keep him clothed even though he distinctly remembered going to bed naked because it would just be awkward to go to bed with his pyjamas on while his dick was erect.

“What do you see?” questioned Haamiah.

JD peered past the deity and the gears before them. The Machine, likely under the control of the God of Time, weaved themselves away to give him a clear view. Beyond was what appeared to be a desolate world. The ground was caked black and dead embers of a planet’s molten core seeped through the cracks in between. Though the sky was clear, it was cast with an angry red from what appeared to be a similarly dead planet lingering in the air with a halo of angry flames surrounding it.

“I see a dead world,” he answered.

“That is a pocket dimension. At the dawn of time, each of the Gods had their own realms apart from myself as I stayed within the Machine. A long time ago, Adramalech, the God of Fire, created a vast world for himself. It celebrated all the good things about fire.”

“You mean that it burns stuff?”

Haamiah chuckled softly. “There is more to flame that its capacity to turn objects it touches to ash. It provides heat and light. Often times it is seen as a symbol of hope and strength. From ash, new life and grow and the fire opens the path for resurrection and renewal. Adramalech’s realm used to be a world with rolling, grassy planes of a crimson colour where each blade of grass was like a single, unique flame. When the wind changed direction, you could see the brilliant red give way to softer oranges and then glistening yellow. Lying upon it, it would be like resting upon a warm, fluffy bed. Trees that curled and danced around one another dominated the landscape wither their canopies uniquely designed so that every leaf glowed with a scintillating light. Every leaf that fell was like a tiny spark of light that would dance with the fickle breeze. The rivers were made of liquid flame, never burning to the touch but perpetually warm. Drinking it would give you a feeling like a parent had given you a warm, comforting embrace and draw you into a safe slumber. He had built a magnificent floating palace, an edifice of shining light that he had once argued should be the ‘sun’ to the world that they had built. Eranshimon he called it.”

JD imagined what such a world would be like and had to admit that whatever it was that Haamiah saw, his mortal mind could never do any justice. The logical part of him just kept thinking that such a place would be terrible to live in. Especially if everything would just spontaneously catch on fire.

“What happened?”

“The Shattering,” answered Haamiah grimly. “And the events afterwards. Adramalech became mired in his own guilt. The grass withered with every lie and deception he wove. The ground blackened and rotted as he foolishly tried to maintain his pride despite being proven wrong. The trees turned to ash, their leaves losing their light as his desire for power backfired and his hope shattered. Every river and body of water became poisoned, turning into magma as his heart was stained by regret. The great city of Eranshimon vanished from his realm and wandered the Void, blackened and sickly, its light lost while his greatest sin replaced it in his heart.”

Haamiah’s golden eyes turned to him. “We all bear our sins for as long as we continue to carry them. The world is filled with those who seek redemption for the acts they’ve performed in the past with interest.” The God of Time turned, hovering through the air silently as he made his way back to his throne. “But as is the mantra that you have always repeated since the day we first met, the agreement we signed when you became my Champion…”

JD continued to gaze out into the ruined planet. “We are all cogs in a greater Machine,” he recited. “We are defined by how we affect those around us and how others in turn, impact us. I choose to validate my life…” Suddenly, his two swords were his paws and he was slicing them through the air. “… by taking theirs.”

He opened his eyes and found himself staring up at the dark ceiling of his room. Loud snoring came from somewhere to his left and he wondered if he had accidentally left the door to his room open and thus led his father’s thunderous wheezing through. As with every day that he woke up, he sat up and looked to his feet. This morning, one leg stuck out from under his sheets so he was able to quickly confirm that he could still move them by just simply wiggling his big toe. The only difference with this day was when he turned to place his feet against the lush carpet beneath his bed, he instead found hard, warm muscle with his big toe brushing up against a rather hard nipple.

Buster Wilde mumbled something in his sleep, a coy smile on his muzzle that interrupted his snoring for the briefest of moments before he went right back to shaking the room. It took JD all of half a second to remember that he had perhaps done the stupidest thing he had ever done in his life with a man the previous night if he excluded the Kumquat Incident.

Oh right. That happened.

Deciding to let Buster sleep since he had practically optically molested the sweet, big bull, JD slipped off his bed at the foot to avoid stepping on more of the naked Bovios. His morning ritual was otherwise uninterrupted. He quickly got dressed, snuck out of his closet, drew a quick reminder to his dad that he hadn’t been kidnapped, was going out to breakfast and not to freak out when Buster came out of his room and then jogged out the door.

He made his way to the corner of his street and paused. The same old streetlamp that he usually mounted and performed a few quick feats of acrobatics stood there the same way it had when Eternity Creek had been rebuilt and he began doing his morning runs. Validation had been packed away then and JD had hoped never to take them up again and yet the previous night, he had not only drawn the etherium blades but he had also unleashed Rupture effectively crippling the Madame just as the demons had crippled him.

“Was I an idiot to think that peace would last?”

The shadow of Haamiah appeared just beneath the lamp, the transparent, angelic creature visible to only him.

“You are never an idiot to hope. You have a finite amount of time on this world. Spending it hoping so long as it leads to action is not a waste.”

JD lowered his head, eyes closed and a distant smile on his muzzle. “Thanks, Haamiah. Not even a few days since we started things up again and you’re lecturing me again.”

“Should I stop?”

“Never.”

JD jogged past the ethereal deity but as he passed the God, he lifted his paw into the air. Haamiah slapped the upraised palm with his own even if it was hidden within his white and gold robes.

If things are going to heat up again, he said to himself mentally and knowing full well that Haamiah was listening, there’s no point in just mucking about with these light workouts!

Crimson bolts of electricity crackled around him. He shot forward, charging down the streets. As before, he launched himself onto Mr. Wickenmyer’s stone fence. Pooling his Force energy into his legs, he shot past the iron spikes, barely even touching them and almost hovering over their sharpened points. Mrs. Yrmir’s carnivorous roses snapped at him but with every movement they made, he vanished and appeared behind them, almost appearing like he was skipping past them in quick, short bursts. The motion-sensitive streetlamps flickered on. Just as the electricity was starting to spark into the bulb, he appeared at the lamp, lightning crackling around him and beating the lamp’s illumination. He dashed back and forth across the street, an electrified red zigzag making its way through the street until he reached the Bright Bean.

What had once only been a light workout that never left him winded now ended with him panting, drenched in sweat and padding his way up into the little café. Shauna was there as always but he caught her by surprise.

“You’re really early today,” the Doevian commented. She was just in the process of placing some of fresh buns into the display case. “And you’re drenched! What? Did you run from rabid woodwolves?”

He gave her a lopsided grin and headed up to the counter. “Just stopped pretending that these morning jogs really did anything for my health. Went all out this morning.”

“Are you sure you should be doing that so early in the morning and just before you eat?” She handed him the usual brown bag filled with bagels.

“My metabolism is very weird. Speaking of which, can I get a smoothie as well?” He started poring over the list of beverages available but they all had bizarre names like ‘Green Summer Blast’ or ‘Healthy Heart Helping’. “I need to cool down.”

“Sure hon,” Shauna said with a smile. “What would you like?”

“I’ll… Uh… What do you recommend?”

She gave him a bright grin telling him that she had switched to her sales pitch mode. “If you’re after muscle recovery, the Healthy Heart Helping is your drink. If you just want to cool down, the Winter Bite Blitz is probably your best bet. For a light, fruity tang that’ll wake you up in the morning, I recommend the Wake-Up Wash.”

Urgh… I can’t choose. Their names are all so obscure. Haamiah, what do you think?

Haamiah appeared behind Shauna, looking up at the billboard of drinks. Even though his features were hidden, he could tell the God was looking at the list with disgust.

“I would recommend just running home and getting water. That is the most frugal answer. However, since you have already committed to the request, I suggest ordering anything at this point so as not to insult her. Just be wary that she hasn’t put any ingredients underneath the offered drinks.”

“Uh… the last one sounds great. I’ll have one of those please.”

Shauna beamed and gave him a sly wink. “Coming right up! Don’t want to fall asleep during class, right?”

“I’ve only got classes up to midday today,” he said, leaning against the counter. “Though I will admit that after last night I would much rather have the day off.”

“Still haven’t picked up any extracurricular activities, huh?” Shauna asked, moving to the smoothie machine. JD saw that she was throwing a few, big, bright green apples and bananas into the molecular blender. The Wake-Up Wash was probably just a zesty drink with a tang to slap him awake.

“Technically I do half-day workout with my Combat Class teacher, Rayne Noam, every Adraday but every Dewday I just go in for study hall. Only Berndays I get off. From Urday to Kutday, I’m at school.”

Shauna returned with a takeaway, disposable cup with a straw for his smoothie. “Five days at school, then two half days during the weekend for extracurricular activities and study hall. Only one day to yourself. Dear Goddess, these schools push you hard since the Fall, don’t they?”

“I suppose,” JD said with a laugh. “Back when I was in middle school, it was just five days of the week we went to school. Having three days of the weekend to ourselves was always fun but I think my dad likes not having me in the house for the mornings. Gives him the opportunity to clean the house in his underwear.”

While Shauna laughed at his little titbit of Clarke home life, he brought the smoothie up to his lips and took a sip. The moment it hit his tastebuds his stomach immediately rebelled, shut off all passage ways down into it and curled up into a little ball to hide in the deepest recesses of his digestive system so it wouldn’t be found.

“Argh!” he exclaimed, coughing the bitter, sweet and oddly spicy drink with a horribly, slimy texture to it. “What’s in this!?”

“All the things you need to wake up and keep you awake,” answered Shauna with a grin. “Bananas for protein, apples for that zest you wake you up, coffee for that caffeine kick, fried eggs that have been ground down into a paste for the protein and essential nutrients to keep you full and not slip into hunger followed by some good old Incendian Fire Peppers for that two-burn kick.”

“Two-burn?” JD repeated.

Then he those Incendian Fire Peppers came back with a second, far more intense burn. Since his tastebuds had been scrubbed raw by the terrible combination of sweet, sour and bitter, they were fully exposed to the unholy, burning fire of the Peppers. JD’s eyes immediately began to water and he could swear some of the spice had backed up through his nostrils and were now burning their way out of his nose.

“Oh Goddess!” he panted. “That’s… That’s…” He grimaced and straightened. “That’s something…”

Not lying. Just… My tongue! My tonsils! My uvula!

Shauna seemed oblivious to his agony. “Come back again tomorrow and I’ll have you try one of my other flavours. That one is really great with some of those early-risers.”

“I can see why it would be,” he croaked. His throat felt like it had shrivelled up in protest. Shauna was regarding so earnestly that he had no choice but to bring the straw back to his quivering lips and pray that if he just drank it fast it enough, it would bypass his tastebuds and go straight to his stomach which was screaming in protest.

That didn’t work. It was almost like the drinking the slushy, coagulated half-gelatine, half-runny egg concoction actively sought out his tastebuds just to torture him. His stomach had rallied the rest of his bowls in protest to receiving more of the treatment.

“I’m going to take this to go,” he said. “See you tomorrow!”

Shauna waved out the door. “Bye! Enjoy your smoothie!”

JD was tempted to toss the smoothie out the instant he was out of earshot range but he was afraid that doing so would constitute as tossing away a toxic hazard and potentially cause the entire neighbourhood to evacuate. He just carried it all the way back home, constantly glancing at it with every few steps to make sure the slurry didn’t eat through the cup.

When he arrived back at home, he stepped through to the smell of something that was very different to their usual fare of garlic spinach, bacon and eggs. It was quite sweet and very alluring. Smokey fingers would’ve lifted him off the ground and lured him into the kitchen if such a thing were possible.

To his surprise, he found his dad sitting on the bench, the morning news crystal in his paws while Buster was at the kitchen. Both men were completely naked though Buster was wearing an apron as he was cooking something on the stove.

“Buster?” he greeted. “You’re cooking breakfast?”

“Sure are, babe,” answered the Bovios with a bright grin. “Your dad mentioned to me that you basically have the same meal every morning and while that’s awesome, I thought I’d cook you up something different.” He flashed a grin and lifted the pan which was speared with what appeared to be a very thin pancake. “I’m making us banana breakfast crepes.”

“Really? We don’t have a crepe pan or anything like that.”

“I know a few spells that will do the trick,” said Buster with a grin. “I took a few Gastromancy classes, after all.”

“Wow. Okay.” He glanced at the bagels in his paws. “I guess we won’t be needing these.”

“Bring them to school. We can just have them after classes. You know, hang out with Wood and the guys. Don’t have to head straight home, right?”

JD set down the bagels and his drink on the counter. “No… I suppose not. Huh… This is so weird.”

Buster glanced back at him with curious eyes. “What?”

“Having a social life. Feels like forever since I’ve just ‘hung out’.”

The Bovios muttered a quick spell and the crepe magically flipped itself, not tearing once. He then turned towards JD. “Really? Come on. You must’ve had friends, right? I mean you went to military school and private school before Pinnacle.”

Unbeknownst to either of them, Alex had spotted the smoothie that his son had brought in and picked it up curiously. He sniffed at the straw before popping open the lid to see the slightly brown mush inside. He shrugged, assuming the red pieces were strawberries and tipped it into his muzzle.

“Yeah, I suppose I did,” JD said, leaning against the counter. “But remember I got kicked out of military school because of an incident where I ‘hung out’ with my cousin and his crew. They got into a bar fight, I kicked ass and I got my ass kicked out of the school in turn. Since then, I’ve never trusted myself to hang out with anyone else. I never spent any time outside of class with my friends in private school.”

“Damn, that sucks.” Buster reached forward and clapped his shoulder. “But you don’t have to worry. You can be weird and as violent you want with us in Pinnacle. You know how it is.” The bull quickly uttered another spell and the crepe flew off the pan, magically folding itself into a perfect triangle and setting itself onto a plate. Some freshly sliced banana pieces positioned itself around the little, leaf-like meal while some honey and powdered sugar drizzled itself along the plate. The rest of the crepe mixture poured itself exactly into the pan for the next batch.

“Everyone is special up there,” JD chuckled. “Also isn’t it kind of cheating to be using Gastromancy to be cooking those things? Where’s the skill?”

Buster grinned at him. “The skill is in creating your own recipes and spells. Natalia will be able to tell you about the whole process but I’m just a knuckle head.” He gently punched his own temples. “I just repeat the spells and recipes that are told to me. I’m not too creative but I can sure as hell remember and recite whatever is thrown at me.”

Behind them, Alex faced the full force of the Wake-Up Wash. The mixture hit his stomach and his brain instantly lit up. His eyes sparkled as if he were in love and he guzzled the entire concoction happily, even going so far as to lick the contents of the cup eagerly until it was clean.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Buster. I’ve seen you in Combat Class. You’re pretty damn good. I mean your move set is kind of limited and hardly original but you use them in inventive ways. The brightest minds make do with what they have instead of wasting energy on coming up with something new.”

Buster rolled his eyes at him. “Did you get that off a bumper sticker or something Mr. Stabitty-Stab-Stab?”

“I do more than stab!”

“Of course. You also gut, gore and horribly dismember.”

JD grinned, blushing slightly. “Can we not talk about this before breakfast?” Another crepe was finished and he picked up the two plates to put them on the counter. He stopped, however when he noticed that his dad was licking away at his finished smoothie cup.

“Oh…” Alex began, tongue still sticking out. “Sorry son. It was just so damn good. If you want me to go grab some right now –”

“Goddess no!” JD exclaimed. Both Buster and Alex gave him a startled look. “I… I think I had my fill of that particular smoothie. Shauna at the Bright Bean told me that she’ll let me test out some of the other flavours tomorrow. I’ll bring you more of that.”

“If it wouldn’t be a bother,” Alex answered happily, his tail wagging.

How in the world could he possibly like that gunk!?

“A number of reasons,” Haamiah answered. The God of Time held up a little pointer stick – invisible to all but JD – straight at Alex’s muzzle. “As you grow older, your tastes naturally change. Whether it is out of necessity, habit or simply because that is how your tastes have developed over the years, your father has grown accustomed to the taste of coffee which provides the bitterness. Similarly, as a man of the world, he has experienced many tastes so while it tastes horrible to you, the fact that it is so unusual, is appealing to him.” Haamiah pointed to few grey hairs around Alex’s brown bed-head. “Let’s also not forget that your father had a lot of penises in his muzzle so that contributed to his unusually high tolerance for strange fluids that were never designed to be consumed.”

JD gave the God a bitter look.

Yes, Haamiah. Thank you Haamiah.

“So you just have study hall today, right?” Buster said, setting down the third and last plate of crepes. “You haven’t joined any clubs or anything to take up today?”

Snapping himself out of the imagery that Haamiah had conjured of tongue charts and other statistics, JD sat down next to Buster and shook his head. “Yeah. I usually just catch up on homework and stuff.”

“Why don’t you join me, Wood and Skye on the Manallium team?”

He gave Buster a surprised look. “I thought you hated the game.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t be there to support my best friends. Besides, I’m not actually on the team. I just manage the equipment. I play with the guys when they’re not being serious while get to use the workout gear and training rooms whenever I want because of it.”

Huh. Really? And here I thought a big guy like Buster would at least be part of several sporting teams.

“If you want, we can talk to Rayne and see if he’d be willing to pull you into the same arrangement as me,” JD suggested. “I get to use all the gym equipment I want and get one-on-one sparring sessions with him. It’s how I’ve kept my skills sharp.” He sliced a bit of the crepe, ears perking up at the nice, crisp crunching noise his fork made against the golden surface. That single bite was packed full of flavour that it resurrected his poor, abused tastebuds. “Wow, this is good.”

“Thanks,” Buster grinned happily. “And if it means going up against you or Rayne behind closed doors all out, you can count me out!” The big bull laughed and lifted his hand in surrender. “Rayne when he’s all serious is scary. Then there’s you with Rupture.”

“You haven’t seen either of them really serious yet,” Alex warned. “Trust me, Rayne all out is pretty much illegal and JD only had one blade of Validation out. My son could Rupture you with one sword and then cut your head off with the other.”

Is he boasting about me or just stating fact? Either way, that’s embarrassing!

“Dad!” JD chastised. He glanced towards Buster. “Sorry.”

“I’m stating facts, son,” replied Alex grimly. “I’m sorry to say this, Buster, but if you’re going to date my son you’ll need to know this. Plus, as we’ve discussed, you’re in this now.”

That sent alarm bells ringing in the young Wulfun’s mind and he immediately spun to face Buster in surprise. “What’s he talking about?”

Buster gave him a bashful grin. “I’ll be honest and say that the only reason I asked you out on a date was because I wanted to get Wood to own up to his feelings for you and grow a pair. But after last night, I’m going to admit that you’re growing on me, you little psycho.” He bumped shoulders with the smaller Wulfun. “I’d like to get to know you a little better.”

“No, I got that,” JD said, waving away the statement. “What’s this about you being ‘in this’?”

His big, bull ‘boyfriend’ looked confused. “You’re not surprised that I genuinely want to date you? And to answer your question, your dad basically told me that because of our involvement with the Fuck-a-ton–”

“Fuocotan,” both Clarkes corrected in unison.

“Right. Well we’ll basically have a hit out on us. He’s also shared his concerns that there’s something else going on here. I’m not one to turn down a fight or let a quest go unfinished. I want to know where this road leads us.”

JD inclined his head to the side, one ear bent backwards. “Are you sure about that? This isn’t like one of those Combat Class simulations. This is the real thing. No one is going to pull any punches or hesitate to kill you if you get in their way.”

Buster’s eyes grew distant and he looked at his own reflection against the polished metal of the refrigerator. “During the Fall, my family and I were hunkered down in one of the shelters. We were all scared and helpless. Every one of us, cramped in the place alongside thousands of others, couldn’t do a thing to fight the demons that were knocking on our door. It’s just like you said that day at Pinnacle. So many people have all this magical talent and not one of them got up and decided to do something to defend others. I told myself that day that I’d never be that helpless again.” He chuckled softly and flexed his bicep at JD. “That’s kind of why I started working out and beefing up.”

Then his expression dropped again.

“But then at Pinnacle, you showed me just how helpless I was again. Those bald, smoky jerks just charged in and I was paralysed. Even when we came after you, it was only because I was following Wood. Last night, I was just following Rayne.” His hands tightened into fists. “I’m done following. I’m going to take this path because I want to. I want to see this through to the end.”

“We are all cogs in a greater Machine,” Haamiah recited into JD’s ear. “We are defined by how we affect those around us and how others in turn, impact us. Buster has started turning in a particular direction because of your actions of his own accord. How will you react?”

JD sighed heavily and glanced towards his dad. “Crap. It’s the Dead Tails 2.0 isn’t it?”

Alex snickered while Haamiah’s shoulders visibly sagged.

“Not exactly the most poignant of responses but I’ll take it.”

The trio finished their meal and Alex rushed the boys to get showered and hurry to their classes. Though weekend classes only ran to a little past noon – they were really only dismissed after lunch – they were still expected to attend. Pinnacle has some fairly high standards and every student had to attend at least one of the extracurricular activities. JD managed to get out of the requirement by working out under Rayne. Buster, Skye and Wood obviously joined the Manallium team but he had to wonder what activities the others participated in. He had never bothered to check.

Might be a good opportunity to know more about my future party members.

Buster opted to drive them both back to Pinnacle in his truck which gave Alex some free time. No doubt to go and meet with the other Generals to discuss the events of the previous night. After a quick shower that the two took separately, Buster drove them both back to Pinnacle. The black Bovios mentioned that he had a change of clothes at school which naturally involved the Pinnacle Manallium team colours. Once they arrived, weekend classes were already in full swing.

Wood and Skye were already at the Manallium arena wearing the same colours and style uniform as Buster. The figure-hugging hex-weave attire was as breathable as if they were not wearing anything at all but as hard as armour. The suit was dominated by the green of Pinnacle and striped with gold to hide the spell-limiters. Manallium was still a highly regulated sport, after all, and no one was allowed to unleash incredibly devastating spells. Each suit highlighted the physiques of their players perfectly from Wood’s lean, ripped, muscled form, Skye’s athletic, shapely figure to Buster’s perfect mix of muscle and mass.

“Hey guys!” Buster exclaimed brightly, waving at the two.

JD noted that Stephen Claxton was right there beside them dressed in the same uniform.

“Morning,” Wood replied with a hopeful grin. “Come to join the team, JD?”

“Yeah!” Stephen chimed in excitedly. “We could use a really fast shooter!”

From what JD remembered about the game, there were three types of ‘armour’ that Manallium players could adopt and that corresponded with their playstyle. Shooters were one type. He couldn’t remember the other two but he was fairly sure one of them was a defender and the other was an interceptor.

“No thanks,” replied the shorter Wulfun. He glanced around the field. Groups of three were gathered around the field, each one representing the teams that would compete in the interschool Manallium tournaments. “I think Pinnacle has enough teams without me complicating matters. Besides, I can’t use magic, remember? I wouldn’t be much good unless I was an interceptor or defender.”

The other guys gave him a few blank looks until Skye chimed in.

“I think he means the striker and goalkeeper,” said the Tigris.

Damnit! Just goes to show how little I know about the sport.

“You don’t need magic to play those positions,” Stephen said cheerily. He tossed the helmet he was holding underneath his arm towards Buster. “Hey Wilde, how about you play a few rounds with Wood and Skye? I’ll give Clarke the rundown.”

“That’s not really necessary…” JD began.

“Naw, come on man. You gotta get into the spirit!” Stephen’s cockney accent was quite charming and JD couldn’t say no to that deceptively cute Rodetian face of his. Those large, rounded ears were so expressive. Stephen placed a paw on his shoulder and led him a few paces back from the arena itself while Buster slipped on the helmet and headed off into the field.

“How much do you know about Manallium?” Stephen asked.

JD shrugged helplessly. “Only that it’s pretty dangerous, there are three balls and people go crazy over it. I was never into the game.”

“Alright, so let’s get down to the basics then.”

He pointed to the arena which currently consisted of three, large, white, hovering platforms. The middle platforms had holes at its centre, however. The same configuration was placed into each of the ten arenas that Pinnacle currently housed – the largest number of Manallium arenas any private school possessed on Haven. At the end of either arena was a single, circular ring that hovered at about the same level as the middle platform.

“The goal of Manallium is to score more points than the opposing team before time runs out. And there are four balls in Manallium but the fourth one is only used if the game goes into overtime.”

And there goes my credibility even more.

The rodent with the shining, brown eyes gave him an encouraging smile. “Arenas all change depending on the location. Pinnacle has some pretty basic configurations but can be set up to be harder.”

“I’ve seen a few professional games,” JD replied. “Some arenas are basically mazes.”

“Exactly. The pros get it really rough and even some of schools here do the same.” Stephen looked up to where his team of three leapt up onto the field against another three students. “Gravity is lowered within the arena so you can do some pretty cool jumps and shit but you’ll still hit the ground pretty hard if you’re thrown.”

As the Manallium coach blew the whistle, several spheres about the size of a man’s head appeared across the field. Stephen pointed to the one closest to the Wood’s goal ring.

“That’s the Charge Ball. It’s the only ball that can score any points. The point is to get it through the goal ring which is called the Trove. The thing about Charge Balls, though, is that they can be infused with elemental energy from spells. That’s why they’re called Charge Balls.”

JD already knew the basis of Charge Balls. Due to their etherium cores, any magical spell channelled through them would charge the ball with the element of that spell. Thanks to the regulators and the way the cores were fashioned, the energy discharged from the spell would always come out in a particular way. This prevented players from using some overly complex magical combination.

“When you get a Charge Ball through a goal ring, that goal ring will become ‘charged’ with that element as well,” Stephen continued. “You get points for racking up a ‘chain’ which involves throwing a Charge Ball with the same element as the ring. The points go up in multiples of four. So your first shot through the ring of an element gets you one point. The next one of the same element gets you four. Then sixteen then sixty-four and so on.”

“I always did wonder how teams could get hundreds of points in this thing.”

Stephen winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah but that’s in school competitions where the time limit is just fifteen minutes.”

JD gave the Rodetian a startled look. “Wait? Really? Isn’t that grossly unfair to those that want to take up Manallium professional? I’ve seen games go for hours.”

“Exactly. That’s because most of the school games don’t have the Quest or the Sceptre active.” He nodded towards the field as the teams began moving. Skye – the team’s striker – just scored a point by hurling a fiery Charge Ball through the ring. “Professional games really only have the same fifteen minutes time limit but almost never get over zero points until the first thirty minutes. They’re just that good and their arenas are huge and really complicated. To make things fair, the Tower Thirteen Manallium Association made it so that to win a game, you need to be at least 150 points ahead of your opponent. That’s what the Quest and Sceptre are for.”

Having never heard of the Quest or Sceptre part of the game, JD just swung a paw over his head to indicate that this all went by him.

The Rodetian snickered and clapped his back lightly. Despite his incredible bulk, he had a surprisingly light touch. “The Quest is a task given to both teams to complete. It’s often complex and has multiple stages. Once you finish a quest, the Sceptre becomes available. It’s just basically a big flag. Anyone on the field can grab the Sceptre and if they can get it to their Trove, they basically end the game.”

“But that may not matter because if the opposing team is leading by over 150 points, you can still lose,” JD concluded.

“Exactly. And given that points go up by four for every Chain, it’s actually a good tactic to keep the Sceptre to yourself until you get enough of a lead to end the game.”

All these tactics were starting to make his head spin. “Is there any way to keep your enemy’s Chain from going up?”

“Oh yeah. It’s totally legal to throw your own Charge Ball with a different or no element into your own Trove. Your opponent gets one point but there’s a huge difference between one and 256 – which is as high as a Chain is meant to go, be-tee-dubs.”

JD watched the players jumping and leaping all over the Manallium fields in front of him. “Wow… This game is a lot more nuanced than I gave it credit for. I honestly thought it was just throwing fireballs everywhere.”

“It isn’t,” Stephen said with a cheerful not. “I mean, we haven’t even gotten to the Barrier Balls yet.” The bulky mouse pointed at the mostly stationary balls that were almost as big as Wood’s chest. “Barrier Balls are kind of like Charge Balls in that you can charge them with elemental energy and shit. Thing is, they’re fucking heavy. They will also move by themselves back to their original positions.”

“Hence their names as ‘Barrier Balls’,” JD concluded. He watched as Buster let out a loud roar and slammed his shoulder against one of the Barrier Balls. The huge, metal sphere lurched forward and bashed into another student holding one of the Charge Balls. “I’m guessing that you can charge the Barrier Ball with one element and then hurl a Charge Ball with an opposing element and cause a pretty damn powerful blast, huh?”

“Exactly. People have been known to even chuck a non-elemental Charge Ball at a Barrier Ball to ‘copy’ it’s power over for a quick attack at the Trove.”

JD’s shoulders sagged and he winced. “So many possibilities and tactics…”

Stephen regarded him with an apologetic look. “Too much of an info dump? You okay about Seeker Balls?”

“Those I know,” JD responded, straightening. “They’re basically anti-player balls.” He pointed at the small, red spheres that seemed to have a mind of their own but a lot of padding that soared through the air actively ‘seeking’ one of the players.

“Did you know that you can direct them?”

He jerked his head back towards Stephen. “You can? I thought they just went after whoever was closest.”

“Nope,” answered the mouse with a shake of his head. “You can catch a Seeker Ball, elementally charge it and then throw it. It’ll go for any opposing player. Seeker Balls also come in four configurations and spawn randomly on the field. The red ones are the Blast Seekers. If they get close to you, they’ll explode big time.”

There was a loud eruption of fire and wind from one of the arenas.

“Just like that,” Stephen finished. “Lance Seekers are yellow and will shoot a beam of its elemental energy a short distance if it locks on a target. Bounce Seekers are the most common and are blue. They’ll just bounce off walls and not really use their elemental energy. Trap Seekers are green and stick to surfaces. They’ll explode like a Burst Seeker if an opponent gets close.”

JD found his head spinning with all this information. While he had surely intended to study today, he never guessed he would be taking a crash course in Manallium.

“And the last kind of ball?” he whimpered.

“Only comes out after the fifteen-minute mark,” answered Stephen. “The Blast Ball or ‘Bomb Balls’ as we like to call them. They’re basically huge hazards because they will appear spontaneously anywhere in the field and explode with a random elemental discharge. Any Seekers caught in the blast will become charged and hunt down anyone. No way to control them. They just appear and boom!”

“Almost sounds like you’re entering a battlefield,” JD muttered. “You’ve got artillery raining down on you, people actively hunting, long-ranged attacks, mines and barricades to overcome.”

“It’s right up your alley, right war hero?” said Stephen brightly.

Oh… Now I get where he’s going with this.

“I appreciate the gesture, Stephen,” he said, gently brushing aside the Rodetian’s big, pink paw. “But I’m not used to open combat. I’m an assassin. I catch my enemies by surprise and take advantage of that. Yeah, I’m fast, but if my enemy knows I’m there, that’s half of my capabilities shot down.” He shook his head gravely. “Sorry, I can’t joint your Manallium team.”

Stephen’s big, round ears drooped down. “Saw right through me, huh?” He let out a heavy grunt and crossed his arms behind his head. “Wood really wanted you to join. Skye was for it as well. I thought I’d try to convince you before they do.”

“Why?”

He blushed, turning his grey fur a strange shade of ash-red and scratched his cheek lightly. “Well, I dunno if you know this about me but I’ve always been playing catch-up to Buster and Wood. They’re huge! I try to be as big as them but… well… Rodetians aren’t traditionally very big.”

“You sure shattered the mould.”

“Thanks man.” Stephen glanced back towards the field. “I dunno, though. They seem to be in their own world most of the time and I feel that sometimes they just include me as an afterthought. Kind of hurts but they’re in a league of their own. Maybe if I got you to join, they’d notice me more.”

At least I’m not the only one struggling with social acceptance. Though I guess my skills make it easier for me.

“I think you should stop trying to be what you think they’ll like and start being the person you should be.”

Stephen gave him a surprised look. “What do you mean?”

“How often do you pay attention to your shadow?”

The burly Rodetian frowned at him. “Uh… Not a lot. I mean, it’s not like I actively check on it or something. It’s just… always there, you know?”

“Exactly. Take it from an assassin, the things people take for granted are their greatest weaknesses. If you just keep trying to be like Wood or Buster, they’ll treat you like their shadow or reflection. You’re the guy that’s just like them. Nothing special. They won’t pay attention to you because… well… you’re them.”

Stephen blinked at him in surprise. “You think?”

“I know.” JD peered seriously at the field. “I’ve hunted down foes who are guarded in all directions except for the one place or person that they firmly believe would never be a threat – the person they think is so like them that they’d never think of betrayal.”

Stephen let out a soft snort. “I guess I’ll take that to heart coming from the Red Lightning.”

“Trust me. People pay attention to the things that are unusual to them. Keeping a low profile and blending in with the background or what’s familiar to them is a sure way not to get noticed.” He grinned brightly at Stephen. “Though in this case, you’ll want to do the opposite.”

The big, furry mouse smiled and pulled him into a tight hug, completely surprising him. “Thanks man. And yeah, I’m a hugger.”

One glance towards the arena and JD could already tell both Wood and Buster had taken notice of the small gesture.

“So you are,” he snickered with a sly smile. “So you are.”

Silver Sniper (Alex)

Operation: Flame Fall

Over forty members of the Fuocotan had been captured in the successful operation. Though a few Bladebreaker employees had been injured, none had been killed. The only real casualties were those on the assassin’s side but given that they were on Haven illegally, hired killers and had threatened lives, the Generals deemed their deaths to be acceptable casualties given that so many were captured and currently being interrogated. Death was not something Alex liked to revel in but there was a sense of justice of these assassins meeting their end after endangering his son.

He strode through the dark, grey metal halls of the Inquisition. Once under the direct command of the Church, the Inquisition eventually became its own organisation under General Elisha the Grey King. Many Inquisitors had become disillusioned to the Church’s ability to maintain order within itself and free of corruption especially given how many of the Church’s members had actually turned out to be enforcers of the devious Custodia Goetia. Elisha had rallied them all thanks to his possession of the Omphalos Stone, a powerful artefact that negated all forms of magic around him.

Through the Grey King who still professed loyalty to the Church, the Inquisition was viewed by many as still part of the theocracy even though technically they were separate entities. Many believed that should General Elisha ever perish or change his mind about the Church, the Inquisition would turn on their former patrons in a heartbeat.

Alex glanced into one of the interrogation rooms which consisted of six mirrors placed behind the restrained individual who was seated between them. Each of the mirrors offered a different angle to the individual – one mirror directly behind the prisoner, two angled to slightly to their left and right, another two directly to their sides and the last facing right in front. Interrogators stood in the gaps between the mirrors. The technique called ‘The Six Kings’ used the mirrors to reflect the different truths that the prisoner held.

He watched as one of the interrogators asked the prisoner a question. The bald man denied any knowledge of the mission at Pinnacle. However, one of the reflections openly mocked the interrogator, even going so far as to curse him loudly. A second whimpered and pleaded to be let go. A third begged for his life. A fourth raged like an animal. The fifth laughed maniacally. It was the sixth that admitted that he burned with a passion at the death of his brothers at Pinnacle and wanted revenge on the Red Lightning.

For each mirror, a different facet of their personality.

Alex turned and strode further down the hallway filled with interrogation rooms. There was only one room he was interested in. When he entered, General Melchior was already there waiting for him. Though to the Fuocotan Madame who sat in the circle of mirrors, he was just plain old Hank Fen. The interrogators were already in position and had just been waiting for Alex’s arrival into the dismal, dark, silver room.

With a nod, Hank bid the members of the Inquisition to begin.

“What is your name?” demanded one of the interrogators.

To her credit, the assassin kept her chin up and locked directly at the interrogators. Despite her injury and the implications of it all, she still sat proudly. A special collar had been wrapped around her neck to prevent any attempt to use magic at all. The extent of the damage Rupture had inflicted – while limited to a specific type of magic – could easily spread if she continued to strain against it. Akin to agitating a wound and only making it bigger.’

“You may call me Madame,” she responded.

“You don’t scare me, Church scum!” barked one of the reflections.

“No! You will never get anything out of me! I am protected!” cried another.

“Regina Corthawin Malicari Inferenium Galor. That’s my name.”

Hank leaned towards Alex. “That sounds An-Korish.”

He only nodded in agreement.

“How old are you?” asked the interrogator.

“Have you no shame! Why would you ask that of a woman!?”

“Please! I am already dead! Have mercy and just kill me now!”

“47 years of age.”

Alex shook his head and the woman’s age. So young. To have risen to so far in the ranks of the Fuocotan, she had likely been an assassin for some time. Whatever brought her to such a situation would likely not have been very pleasant. Records from already completed interrogations indicated that most of the Fuocotan were displaced individuals who had an inherent bloodlust and had found their way into the Fuocotan.

“Why did you attack the Bladebreaker Manor.”

All the reflections answered at the same time. “We were hired.”

When all six reflections agreed even if the prisoner did not utter a word, that was an absolute truth. Either she utterly believed that answer or it really was the truth to the very bottom of her heart. In either case, the bound, restrained Madame was incapable of lying. But there were ways of circumventing the Six Kings.

“You believe yourselves so righteous,” she scowled. “You follow the orders of faceless Generals, never once having peered into their eyes or used these techniques to know if they too are being truthful. Do you believe yourselves to be justified? Does exposing the truths behind an injured woman fill you with pride?”

The interrogators were professionals and mostly immune to her chiding. “Who hired you to attack Bladebreaker Manor.”

“Are you so naïve you think the Foucotan would actively keep the names of our clients!? Do you think it would be so simple!? Would we truly keep something so important in a little black book that you can simply retrieve!?”

“I don’t know! I honestly don’t! We were just hired and put into position! Please! I was just doing as I was told. I am not very high in the hierarchy!”

“Does it matter? I am dead anyway. You will not take more of my dignity than you already have.”

“It was Konseral Darmin.”

Alex’s ears swivelled forward at that answer. The problem with the Six Kings was that while it offered many ‘truths’, it was difficult to tell what exactly was the truth. Only when a line of questioning obtained the majority of the Kings answering in unison could they be sure that they had the facts. Fortunate then that as the prisoner grew weary, the Kings tended to cease their contradictory statements and come together.

“Why would Konseral Darmin hire assassins to strike at himself and his own people?”

“Figure it out yourselves! You have the might of the Generals behind you! Why do you need us!?”

“I don’t know what that madman thinks!”

“Is it really that odd? To bring yourself into the public eye and bring in investors or more donations, make yourself the target of an assassination attempt.”

A cunning if underhanded tactic. It was something that JD had brought up previously. The Reaching Flame wasn’t a very well-known charity in Haven. Yes, they helped rebuild Haven after the Fall but they were never as prominent as say the Tower Health Society, Gold Cross or even the Church. However, with two assassination attempts including one at the Bladebreaker Manor, they had received a lot of media attention.

Essentially free advertising, Alex mused quietly. Dangerous and risky but free.

“Will there be any further attacks against Konseral?”

The Madame lifted her head and glared viciously at the interrogators. “Of that, there is no doubt,” she and her reflections answered.

“Why do you seek his death?”

“We still have a contract to fulfil.”

“He used us in his schemes so he must die!”

“We are bound by honour as he led our brothers and sisters to their deaths.”

Alex shook his head and turned to leave. Hank followed him out the door while the interrogators continued to do their best against the Madame who had an admittedly very strong will. The interrogation had been going on for hours before Alex had arrived.

The moment they were out of the room, Hank lit a cigar and took a deep, long breath. The foul-smelling stick didn’t even burn an inch. “You think she knows about the Reaching Flame down on Incendius?” Hank asked, smoke puffing out from his muzzle and nostrils.

“I doubt it,” replied Alex with a shake of his head. “Based on the few bits of conversation I had with Roran and Konseral, they didn’t seem at all aware that their entire charity had been demolished on Incendius.”

It was the uniting issue amongst the Generals and had justified Alex’s actions. The Reaching Flame had been completely obliterated save for the one branch on Haven where Konseral stayed. The perpetrator of its destruction was none other than the Last Chronomancer, Harm Chronos. The moment a General was able to confirm the evidence with their own network of informants, they immediately threw all of their support behind Alex.

But they could not move so boldly. The Reaching Flame was still a charity. If the Generals seized their assets without question, their standing amongst the public would be compromised. Many of the Generals had argued that public safety came first and they should ask questions later but it was the attacks upon Konseral by the Fuocotan that had stayed their hand. The current theory was that Chronos had been the one to hire the hit and none of the Generals wanted to step on the Last Chronomancer’s toes especially since he was the one that had personally trained and elevated the original ten.

Alex still remembered almost twenty years ago when he met the Chronomancer and he was still a young military spy, sleeping around, flouting his sexuality and enjoying his life under the Church. Back then, every one of the armed forces fell under the theocracy and he was gunning for a position amongst the Custodia Deos, the elite of the elite. Then he met Chronos who trained him on how to make the most out of his Illusionist powers instead of trying to wrack his brains learning how to use Divine Magic. Chronos them brought him into the fold with the other Generals. That was how he had met Hank whom JD called ‘Uncle Hank’ and who Alex had once called his lover.

Chronos had groomed them to take the leadership after the Fall and after he was eliminated from the timeline by the Redaction Spell. They all didn’t want to interfere with him but also questioned why he hadn’t reached out to them. Self-doubt stayed their hands. Had they become corrupt just like the Church before them? Had Harm Chronos, the Destroyer of Time, returned to do to them what he had conspired to do against the Church?

“Our focus is Konseral right now,” Alex concluded. He plucked the crystal tablet from where he had been keeping it under his arm and scrolled through all the details that the interrogators had thus far gathered. “None of the Fuocotan really knew why they were targeting him. A lot of them felt a sense of duty to complete the mission that the small party that raided Pinnacle failed to do. Apparently, some of them questioned why their efforts were not pulled or they were told not to attack after the Pinnacle raid failed.”

“The opportunity presented itself,” grunted Hank. “But I agree. It would’ve been completely stupid to attack so soon and at the same time, so late. I would’ve done a follow up attack just as Konseral was leaving Pinnacle when he would’ve thought he was safest. Not days afterwards when he’s had time to shore up his defences.”

“You saw the vids of Sylana,” he rumbled, remembering the Racoonrin’s expertise with her fists. “I’m sure if I hadn’t taken Roran away from the Ballroom, they would’ve been able to escape unscathed.”

Hank grinned impishly. “About that… Are you going to see that sexy piece of striped meat again?”

Tail sliding between his legs, Alex slapped his paw backwards against Hank’s broad, muscled chest. “Focus here, Hank. I pulled up a dossier of all the members of Konseral’s charity workers. They’ve been on Haven for years so they’ve all had to undertake mandatory Trovsky Testing. Check out their ratings.”

The Trovsky Test was a created by Carlyle Trovsky also known as General Malachi. Everyone over the age of twelve was monitored through their Combat Classes and ranked based on their strength and disposition. As arbitrary as the measurement was, it was a way that the Generals to keep tab of particularly powerful individuals and their development especially since they were ensuring that each and every person on Haven was going to be trained to fight for their lives should there be another threat to their nation.

Normally, anyone one on Haven regardless of whether they were just visiting or migrating were observed through their Combat Classes. The Test estimated people’s total magical output into a numerical value from 1 to 10 with a few standard tests. There was also a secondary value based on psychological tests and patterned behaviour that determined their overall ‘threat’ to Haven.

Alex, for instance, was given the rank of 8-Paragon. That indicated that his overall magical input was higher than 80% of the Havenese population and he was considered an upstanding citizen who would go out of his way to help people and obey the laws. Hank was considered 8-Renegade. While he was on a similar level at Alex, he was more likely to partake in selfish endeavours that accelerated his own agenda over others. Admittedly, those agendas normally involved manipulating twinks to sleep with him but that was how the Trovsky Test ranked him.

Unfortunately, the scale wasn’t exactly accurate. It was ultimately just an estimate of power and not a true measurement. It also scaled people based on their magical output. People could have little magical power but be of the Demon rank and still be extremely devastating. JD, for instance, was classed 0-Vigilante but he could run circles around a lot of people with higher magical output. Anyone who was a 7 or higher and either classed Vigilante, Nihilist or Demon were considered extreme threats to Haven and were monitored closely. Naturally, none of the results were ever given out to the public.

Hank picked up the crystal panel that Alex had handed him and scanned the contents. He switched the cigar from one side of his muzzle to the other. A thoughtful puff of smoke burst from his muzzle, forming the word ‘Hmm’ in the air. Most of the people under the Reaching Flame were individuals who had migrated to Haven from Incendius for the purposes of contributing to the charity. There were some Havenese citizens there but through constant monitoring, Alex had managed to extract some rankings on them.

“Lots of 7s in there,” he muttered. “Mostly Citizens and Pacifists. A few Activists.” Then his eyes widened in shock. “This can’t be…”

“It is,” Alex rumbled darkly. “We have a Confessor.”

Hank growled, fangs flaring. A fierce, red glow shone through from his insides casting a fiery light from between his teeth, nostrils and behind his eyes. “Who is he?”

Alex could only shake his head helplessly. “New model. Seems to focus on Pyromancy. They call him ‘Char the Cleanser’.”

“How’d you get this?”

A soft voice cleared their throat behind him. He didn’t turn as General Obadiah made his way forward. The bald human General known as the Whisper had the most extensive spy network of all the other Generals and was considered the best intelligence source on all of Tower Thirteen. Though seemingly lanky in appearance, he held incredible magical potential given that he had powerful runes grafted into his skin including into his very skull. His intelligence was so impressive and ridiculously sane that he could be consciously in multiple places at any one time through his many dummies and still hold an intelligent conversation. Many considered him a walking computer.

“I asked General Solomon here to cast an illusionary spell on one of my informants,” answered Obadiah, his sharp, black eyes filled with worry and a billion calculations at the same time. “They managed to infiltrate the Reaching Flame since our meeting and gather the information you now hold before you. Char is one of Konseral’s closest advisors next to Sylana Krassfell and Roran Northridge. With the three of them beside him, he covers his bases in terms of Symbolic, Runic and Sign magic.” Obadiah’s eyes narrowed. “Though I would go as far as to say that Char alone is skilled in all three and far exceeds the power of the other three.”

Little wonder. From the information, Char was considered a 10-Demon.

“Why aren’t we mobilising our troops?” Hank snarled. “We’ve got a goddamn Confessor on our turf!”

“We cannot,” answered Obadiah grimly. “Char might just be manipulating Konseral and if we attack, he could easily be used as a scapegoat. The body of the current Confessor may be destroyed but as we all know too well, the consciousness of Char can just be transferred to the next Pyromancer available. It would have no consequence to the Custodia Goetia but it could do irreparable damage to our image if we attacked a charity.”

The big Ursus cursed. “I guess it’d look even worse if Char managed to brainwash all those people and they turn against us thinking that they’re just defending themselves.”

“That’s something else that has me concerned,” Alex chimed. “Roran is a renowned Incendian blacksmith. Wouldn’t attract too much attention here in Haven given that our designs are vastly different to Incendius and he isn’t that far up the rankings that his absence on Incendius would be missed. But from what I learned from him, he’s making weapons for Konseral as well to ‘keep his skills sharp’. Konseral apparently sells his weaponry as ‘Northridge Originals’ to help finance the Reaching Flame.” He glanced quickly to Obadiah.

“Given the output of Mr. Northridge based on what General Solomon as obtained, the market should be inundated with these ‘originals’,” said the Whisper. “But we have not a single sale of a Northridge weapon here in years.”

Hank snarled and pushed the tablet back into Alex’s paws. “He’s stockpiling weapons. What other evidence do we need?”

“We don’t know what he’s doing with the weapons, Melchior,” Alex said. “What happens if we hit the Reaching Flame claiming that they’re making weapons for a personal army and don’t find any on the property?”

“We could just say they were destroyed in the raid.”

“Words are cheap but powerful when wielded by a very loud voice,” he warned. “The media will spin this out of control unless we have some solid evidence to the contrary. I’ve already got a plan in the works. If everything goes according to plan…”

There was a soft, musical beeping coming from his watch. He tapped the red, blinking light. A hard-light field wrapped around his entire arm, forming a bracer of light marked with a keyboard and display. The number calling him was one he instantly recognised and he hit the ‘accept’ button.

“Hello,” he greeted cheerily. “Alex Clarke here.”

“Hi Alex, it’s Roran.”

What fury and frustration Hank may have held instantly melted away and a devilish grin crossed his features. The big Ursus started making kissing gestures in his direction which he promptly ignored.

“Roran, hey. How’s your weekend so far?”

“Hectic. As you can imagine a lot of the guys down here at Altima Meadows are on my tail for letting Konseral get into such a perilous situation. They’re grateful that he came out safely, of course, but they still want to know how the hell I could let it get that far.”

Alex inclined his head slightly, his posture relaxing a little with the militaristic straight-back and straightened shoulders slacking slightly. He placed his weight on his right side, placing his other paw on his hip. “Dude, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known. Besides, we were there to help you out. No one was hurt except for some bald assholes…” He quickly glanced towards Obadiah in apology and the Whisper merely waved away the comment. “… and we got out safely.”

“Yeah. About that. See the other workers here are now asking for more security and they’re kind of scared that someone might attack Konseral again and they’re in the firing line. I’m thinking that it might be good if you and some of the kids that helped out made their way to Altima Meadows and just made their presence known, you know. Don’t have to stick around just appear, allay a few fears and get people to stop freaking out.”

His plan was halfway complete and he glanced towards Hank who gave him a conceding nod. “I dunno, Roran. My son still has school.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry to drop this on you so suddenly but it’s just for tomorrow. Hell, if you want I can talk with the teachers at Pinnacle and convince them that it’s like some extra credit thing or something. It’s for charity!”

For a charity, Alex thought miserably. Big difference there kitty cat.

“Well I’d be okay with it but you’d have to convince the Pinnacle staff to let it happen. Let me give you Rayne Noam’s number. He might be able to tug a few strings to make it happen.”

“Excellent. Thanks a lot Alex! We still on for tonight?”

“Sure thing. Bye.” He hit the end button and could already feel Hank’s leery gaze upon him. “Go ahead, say it.”

“Seeing him again so soon after sex, Alex?” taunted the towering Ursus. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear this was getting serious. When do I get to meet him?”

He placed a paw against Hank’s squat, square muzzle and pushed him back. “You are not going to meet him.”

“Aw, why not? Doesn’t the ex-boyfriend get to meet the new beau and we share embarrassing secrets? Does he know about the Kumquat Incident?”

At the mention of the terrible event that had him swearing never to eat anything even vaguely citrusy as long as it was served to him whole, his tail fluffed out and his cheeks rose to a burning red. “No and you are not going to mention that to him ever.” He huffed loudly and checked his band. “Besides, this is just all part of the plan. I knew someone in the Reaching Flame will want to get in contact with me to get JD and the kids to come over. I put the idea in his mind last night with a few well-placed words. I’d seem too eager if I just say ‘yes’ to his invitation so I’m deferring to Rayne who has already made the arrangements.”

“Little wonder why you were one of our greatest spies before the Fall,” observed Obadiah. “Would your son and his friends not need convincing as well?”

“Already got that covered.”

His watch beeped again and he activated the bracer. There was no call this time but just a message which he read with a smile.

Deal Tails 2.0 is a go.

Calibre Grade (Wood)

Altima Meadows

Wood had a strange cocktail of emotions running through his gut. Trepidation, excitement and a sense of justice roiled in his stomach with every gentle turn and slight bump. Onboard the Reaching Flame transport alongside JD, Skye, Buster, Alex and Rayne, they made up what JD called the new Dead Tails. He had asked himself, Skye and Buster if they were willing to come along on military operations as he trusted them all with his back. Given that they had known each other for just a little under a week, he was surprised by the offer but if it meant an opportunity to work beside the Red Lightning, Wood was up for it. Skye was naturally eager to gain access to all the knowledge the military had and was already poring over classified files just a few seats down. Buster didn’t need a reason and was happy to tag along.

When asked why he hadn’t invited Natalia or Irina, JD said that he knew the three young men the best and though he would have liked the two to join them, he didn’t know them as well as the others. Wood protested saying that he really didn’t know JD that well either but the young Wulfun countered by saying that it was a matter of him knowing the rest of the group and since the three Pinnacle students had continuously bullied him since his arrival, he had formed a bond with them even if it was somewhat bizarre.

The thought of those months wasted throwing fireballs at the Wulfun made Wood sick.

If I had just looked past his disability and gotten to know him…

He glanced towards the front of the bus where JD and Buster sat next to each other. They were exchanging workout routines. Apparently, to make up for the fact that he didn’t join any extracurricular activities, JD spent half of a weekend day working out strenuously with Rayne in private. Endurance had been one of JD’s weaknesses on top of his vulnerability once he lost the element of surprise. The constant workouts had drastically improved the Red Lightning’s ability to stay in the battle for longer. Though he was still at a severe disadvantage against a group of foes as he was a dedicated one-on-one fighter.

The green Draconis sighed softly from where he sat near the middle of the bus. Rayne and Alex were perched at the very back of the long, floating vehicle. Some promotional vid about the Reaching Flame was playing but he ignored it. They were approaching one of the motes and judging from the Diatollian-inspired architecture, they were going to pick up Kira next. Apparently one other person was going to join them, JD’s cousin, Kane.

Maybe if I’m lucky Kane will be like JD and I’ll at least get a fresh slate with a Clarke.

Kira was, of course, dressed in her usual summoner’s attire. She looked even more of an ice queen this morning than she ever did. Though in a clear sign that she was trying to cosy up to the Reaching Flame, her cloak had bright red, stylised metal bands across its neckline that looked like two birds with their wings spread and their claws coming together to grip a ruby that acted as a clasp. Even the black mask she wore now had delicate red markings to look like a lotus flower.

She swept through the bus, every step causing the entire vehicle to fall quieter and quieter until she finally took up the seat behind Wood. He resisted the urge to look behind him, knowing full well that Kira would be looking straight ahead like a statue. A scenario began to play out in his head where if he dared lock gazes with her, the summoner would steal his soul and force him to fight as one of her familiars for all eternity.

Goddess, why did she have to sit behind me of all people? I can feel her ice-queen-stare drilling into the back of my skull!

He turned his focus instead to the mysterious second member of their troupe that would be joining them. From what he heard, this guy was part of the military as well and had actually been part of the previous Dead Tails. It was not too hard to imagine some grizzled war veteran who was deadly serious, had a lot of tattoos and an eyepatch from the battle that had cost him dearly. After doing some research into the Dead Tails, he knew that the Grey Lancer was a likely fit for such a character.

It came as no surprise to him when they parked in front of a military base but what did surprise him was when the big, black-furred Ursus came bounding over to the bus while waving goodbye to an even bigger bear that was puffing on a cigar. The bus visibly sagged when the bear stepped onto the vehicle. Wood’s eyes gawked and his jaw dropped at the sight of beast before him. He took pride in being a big guy. Magazine covers and entire spreads had been published on his workout schedules and videos of him working out in nothing but a pair of shorts would go viral every few months. About 90% of the population gave him a ‘professional bodybuilder’ physique and the remaining 10% called him a ‘rich, privileged kid with too much time on his hands.’

But this bear was something else.

There wasn’t an inch of bodyfat on him. Thick veins ran up and down his form like he was the huge eldertree and they were some sort of creeping vine. Speaking of trees, he was so thick he actually had to enter the bus sideways. With shoulders wider than the doorframe and thighs so broad that Wood was pretty sure those camouflage pants were custom sized, he made Wood cringe in his seat just looking at him. The bear’s neck and shoulders were so wide that they rose up and almost fused with his neck.

“Who is that…?” Skye whispered softly.

“That would be Clarke-sama’s ‘cousin’,” Kira scoffed. “Kane Fen.”

“His cousin?” Wood repeated. “But he’s an Ursus.”

The bear immediately saw JD and bounded over. “Cuz!” He immediately threw the duffel bag he was carrying the overhead compartment and slipped in the seat behind JD. Those huge, meaty arms wrapped around JD, pulling him in a tight hug while he rubbed his cheeks against JD’s. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!”

“He’s… affectionate…” Skye whispered.

“You just saw me last week at dinner,” JD said, pushing Kane away lightly. “Remember? It was your dad’s turn to host. We had a barbeque. Everything was smoked.”

Seeing Wood’s confusion, Kira said, “Both the Clarkes and Fens have been close friends with one another ever since Alexander Clarke and Hank Fen were middle school together. Went to the same schools and even joined the military together. Their sons were also friends since birth even though Kane was biologically created while Clarke-sama was born in a tube.”

Wood turned to her suspiciously. “How exactly do you know this?”

She ignored him as Kane let out a loud ‘ooooh’. When Wood turned back around, he practically leapt out of his seat in shock as Kane was shamelessly running his paws all over JD’s chest, even going so far as to pull up his shirt and rub his solid abs.

“Damn! You get some sweet results in a week, cuz!” Kane exclaimed. “I could cut myself on these abs!”

JD blushed and absently ruffled his own hair. “I had to prepare for the mission so I worked extra hard. Admittedly, I’m still a little sore…”

The big, black bear then proceeded to push JD back into the seat and began massaging the Wulfun’s shoulders with those huge, meaty paws. “Then just sit back and relax, cuz. I got ya. Take of your shirt. It’ll be better that way. I packed some massage oils too if that’ll help.”

Buster’s face had gone red and it was clear where his mind was. “Can I keep you?”

Wood had enough. “Why would you pack massage oils on a mission?”

Kane turned towards them, his bright green eyes with little flecks of gold around the edges like a gilded halo widened as if realising they were there for the first time. He sprang up from his seat and positioned himself in the aisle of the hoverbus, paws on his hips and his legs spread apart because he couldn’t stand with them straight due to just how thick his thighs were.

“Sorry I haven’t introduced myself. I get carried away when I’m with my cousin.” He beamed brightly, showing off the fact that he had one golden fang replacing his upper right canine. “My name is Kane Fen. I’m not really JD’s cousin by blood but I like to think that he and I are brothers! We grew up together even though I am a month older. We fought together too in the Dead Tails.”

Skye’s eyes lit up and he was practically out of his seat. “Really? Which one were you?”

Kane beamed brightly and hiked a thumb against his chest. “I’m the Black Cannon!”

Wood wracked his brain on what he remembered about the Black Cannon. While JD was the Red Lightning was the assassin of the Dead Tails, the Black Cannon was the dedicated artillery member. From what the rumours said, the Cannon supposedly carried around an enormous beam cannon and was a very skilled Geomancer. He was practically a walking artillery gun, with enough firepower to level an entire city block and enough durability to take even the strongest of hits. Wood remembered seeing a vid of a rumoured Dead Tails mission where a beam of light was fired from the ground and blew a massive hole in a demonically overrun spaceship. The demons never saw it coming, mostly because starships only had to worry about city defences and other ships out in the Void. An attack from a random individual on the ground would be something they could never prepare for.

“You were also responsible for the debacle that got Clarke-sama kicked out of military school,” Kira said coldly.

Kane grinned sheepishly and scratched at his short, buzz-cut red hair. “Yeah. Kind of stupid trying to drink underage like that. But my cousin took the rap for us and got kicked out of the military. If you ask me, best thing that ever happened to him!” He suddenly reached past Buster, grabbed JD by the scruff and boldly pulled him into a headlock. JD let out a soft squeak before he was restrained. “Because now this kickass assassin got into the best school in all of Haven and doesn’t have to hide the fact that he’s a goddamn war hero!”

Huh… I guess that is a positive…

The cheery bear suddenly turned his headlock into a full-blown cuddle, pulling JD up to his cheeks where he proceeded to nuzzle his neck and hold him tightly like he was a plush toy. “I’m sooooo proud of youuuuuu!” His lips them pressed against JD’s cheek affectionately while his paw shamelessly groped the wolf’s crotch.

What kind of relationship is this!? Wood mentally screamed.

Buster’s jaw dropped to the floor while he was visibly trying to hide his growing erection. Skye pushed his glasses further up his face, a devilish grin on his muzzle. Kira turned away in disgust while both Rayne and Alex shared a chuckle amongst themselves.

“Kane…” JD mumbled, clearly blushing. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“No I’m not. I’m just showing off just how awesome you are because, knowing you, you’re always on assassin mode and hiding these sick abs!” He abruptly pulled up JD’s black shirt – one that was etched with that same six-winged bird that was displaced to the side so from the front it was only possible to see three of the wings. JD’s impressive abdominals were exposed and Wood was able to count a full rack of eight, hardened, perfectly symmetrical muscles coated in white fur and outlined by a blood-red coat. He noted that JD’s belly button was an outie.

Buster tumbled back into his seat. Whether he was unconscious or not from sheer overstimulation was still up for debate. Thankfully, Alex got up from his seat and waved Kane down.

“Come on, Kane, set your cousin down. The bus is taking off.”

“Okie-dokey!” Kane answer cheerfully. He boldly deposited JD right next to Wood. The black-furred Ursus then pressed his forehead against JD’s, staring directly into his eyes affectionately. He ruffled JD’s check ruffs. “Glad we’re going on a mission again, cuz. It’s gonna be a blast!”

He then turned happily, his nub-like tail waggling and parked himself behind Buster.

“Uh…” JD began, adjusting his shirt. “Sorry about that. As you can imagine, Kane and I are really close.”

“Obviously…” Wood laughed, just the faintest hint of nervousness in his voice. “Does he molest you like that all the time?”

“He’s just really affectionate. Wears his heart on his sleeve.” To prove his point, Kane had seized Buster’s arm and was running his paws all over the bull’s meaty biceps even going so far as to lick the vein running down the mounds. “He’s the kind of guy with a charming but admittedly dangerously careless attitude.”

“A little like you?” chimed in Kira.

JD flashed her an irritated stare and Wood considered himself lucky that he wasn’t on the receiving end of that blistering glare. “Maybe. I guess it comes from having a brotherly relationship that a banshee like yourself would never understand.”

I think he was thinking of another ‘b-word’ instead of ‘banshee’ there.

“Fact is, Kane is a very hands-on kind of guy. He’s the kid that’ll press the big red button even though there are clear warning labels saying that you’ll die horrible death if you try. Still…” The Wulfun sighed and gazed wistfully at the big bear’s broad back. “I love him.”

At the word ‘love’ Wood felt his heart leap to his throat and come tumbling out in words that were clearly not parsed by his brain. “So you two have slept together?”

JD gave him a startled stare and Kira even leaned over the back of their bus bench to give him a similar stare. Skye propped himself up on his seat, turned around and smacked Wood’s head lightly with the book he held.

“Why in the world would you get that idea!?” JD exclaimed. “It’d be like sleeping with my own brother! Besides, I’m still underage!”

No matter how many times he mentally kicked himself, Wood knew he would never be able to take those words back. “Uh… never mind. I was just… erm… Ah…”

Thankfully, Skye came to his rescue. “Hey, there’s Altima Meadows.”

Thank the Mother Goddess for you, Skye.

They all turned to the windows as their long, serpentine aerial bus came soaring towards the mote that the Reaching Flame owned. The Bladebreaker estate was 50 square miles in total but that was because the mote had been purposefully built for the Bladebreakers. Altima Meadows was used for both residential housing and agriculture and stretched up to 170 square miles. The major port of the mote was positioned on the south-eastern section of the mote and was known as Meadowbay. Smaller townships dotted the vast land. With a thick forest filling the gaps in between. By far the dominating feature were the enormous farmlands that started from the centre of the mote. A large hill with a massive, white structure sat the centre of these collection of farms – the Reaching Flame facility.

Meadowbay was extremely busy even though Altima Meadows was located far away from the majority of Haven’s infrastructure and business centres. There wasn’t another mote for at least 10 minutes by standard vehicle. As a typical Havenese port, there were towering freighters each of the Havenese design with sweeping, crystal wings, golden plating and long, organic lines that made them almost look like titanic, gold-plated beasts that sailed through the air. Their bus was dwarfed by a tremendous ship that looked like a giant manta ray where dockworkers and teamsters would carry the supplies into the enormous mouth. Ships of an older design that were rather blocky were clearly of Incendian origin were docked alongside the Havenese ships.

As the bus came to dock on one of the platforms, Wood noticed that most of the workers were dressed in the white and red of the Reaching Flame. Some crates they were loading onto the freighters bore the same markings. Others seemed to come from Haven and were likely supplies that were not native to Incendius. The docks were even filled with little market stalls where were physically manned by storeowners. Haven either used automated vending machines or semi-sentient hardlight constructs (SHCs) for such transactions. There were even some stalls which were offering Incendian street food which were actually cooked on the spot by actual people. Havenese ‘street food’ – even those inspired from other Stations – were done with SHCs that were made to appear as a traditional Station-sider.

It was a very different feel from normal Havenese culture which put a strong emphasis on individuality, solidarity and automation even before the Fall. Citizens were meant to be islands that could stand strong on their own and interaction between others even within the familial unit would be done through a proxy if possible. During the reign of the Church, Haven was the heart of the theocracy and the first ‘love’ was meant to be Mother Goddess and everything else was secondary. The more time a person could spend bettering themselves for the Mother Goddess – such as trying to obtain a Valour – the better. At one time, Haven had the most Paladins in all of Tower Thirteen but during the Fall, so many had perished and their numbers severely diminished.

“This our stop, folks!” the driver announced. “Welcome to Altima Meadows. Konseral said he’ll be sending someone to pick you guys up. Feel free to explore the docks, though. Probably don’t wander too far away. Meadowbay is pretty big.”

The small party disembarked and Wood was hit by the noise of a very busy, very active port. Normal Havenese ports tended to be very quiet almost like striding through a cathedral while there was a sermon going on. Announcements were made through personal devices that were ultimately whispered into ears or directly into brains instead of people cupping their paws around their muzzles and shouting at the top of their lungs. There were no orderly lines or hardlight barriers that kept people from wandering too far off path with individuals just walking wherever they wished. Even though they were in open air, the stench of sweat and spices were in the air instead of the heavily sterilized, crisp air that was always left a lingering peppermint smell in his nostrils.

Wood couldn’t stop the smile on his muzzle. If this was what Incendius was like, he couldn’t wait to get down to the Station of the Sun and experience what true Incendian culture was like. He wasn’t the only one excited about the exposure either.

Skye came to stand beside him, clutching his book and peering up into the busy port. “Quite the culture shock, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he responded, grinning broadly. “People are actually flexing muscles and working instead of just using magic for everything. I mean, look! That guy is carrying crates instead of getting some automaton to do it or using magic!”

“Kind of reveals a lot about how Haven is heavily dependent on magic, doesn’t it?”

Wood snickered and nudged the Tigris lightly. “So says our top spellcaster.”

They were both suddenly shoved aside as Buster came rushing between them, salivating, eyes wide and nostrils flared. “Holy crap!” cried the bull. “Is that Incendian mushroom soup I smell!?”

Kane suddenly burst from the bus, launching himself against Buster’s back and wrapping legs around the Bovios’ sizeable waist. Though Kane was certainly brimming with more muscles than Buster, it was clear that their Physiomancer’s strength was at least comparable to the bear’s as he was able to keep Kane hoisted without falling over.

Kane sniffed the air. “Oh hell yeah! And I smell Fire Poppers too!” He pointed straight ahead while grasping one of Buster’s horns. “Hyah! Let’s get us some grub!”

Buster let out a whinny, mimicking a horse before bounding down the docks, nearly bowling a dozen people over. Anyone would be foolish to get in the way of a charging bull driven crazy by the smell of food ridden by a military-bred bear.

Kira sighed heavily as she swept up beside Wood and Skye. Though both the young men had toppled to the ground, she did not offer either of them any assistance. “Mother Goddess,” she sighed. “There’s two of them.”

Wood grunted at her lack of concern and rose to his feet. JD stepped off the bus and helped Skye to his feet. “I guess we have some free time before we’re picked up,” he said. “Anywhere you guys want to go?”

Skye thanked JD and pointed toward the docks. “I want to check out the local magic store and check out what spells they have on offer.”

“You don’t need to purchase your spells to learn them, you know, Skye,” JD said. “You certainly don’t need to buy any licences to use spells either. That place will just rip you off and teach you word combinations from the Illuminus Weizar that you can easily learn online.”

The Tigris rolled his eyes at him. “I know but there’s something different from getting the information from a genuine Incendian compared to those ‘online tutorials’. Have you seen the things they put up on Spell-How?”

The crimson-furred Wulfun shrugged helplessly. “I don’t use magic so I don’t even know what Spell-How is but I’m going to assume it’s some site that tells you how to cast spells.”

“It’s a site that tells you how to cast spells for specific situations,” Wood chimed in, his expression going sour. “There’s normal things like ‘How to Cast Healing Spell for Minor Scrapes’ or a few more specific things like ‘How to Cut Boiled Eggs into Perfect 2-millimetre pieces with Magic’. Then there are the more… bizarre ones.”

JD gave him a half-lidded stare. “This ought to be good…”

“Like ‘How to Glide Elegantly Down a Flight of Stairs with your Dress Billowing Like a Princess’,” Wood responded, covering his eyes with a hand. “Or… ‘How to get Wood Connors Bladebreaker to Fall in Love with you Using Voodoo’…”

He didn’t need to see the look of utter disgust on JD’s face to know that his friend was wearing it. “There’s actually a guide on how to do that?”

“Not just voodoo,” Skye snickered. “There’s options for shamanism, necromancy and even Psychomancy. There’s cosmetic magic as well that apparently will turn you into the perfect girl that Wood Connors Bladebreaker will go head over heels for. Even a guide on his kinks and favourite topics.”

“I wonder if there’s something there on me…”

A sense of alarm rocketed through Wood’s entire body and he pulled his hand away. “JD! No!”

But it was too late. The Red Lightning had already pulled out his flip phone and was scouring the horrible Spell-How site.

“‘How to Summon the Red Lightning to Kill Your Entire Family’,” JD read with a bland, even voice. “‘How to Petition the Red Lightning to Impregnate You With his Demonic Heir’. ‘How to Capture the Red Lightning’s Powers for the Purposes of Electrostimulation – a Guide on using lightning for fun and pleasure.’”

JD snapped his phone shut. “And with that, I have decided I am going to the nearest outlet store, buy some industrial strength bleach and pump it all through my ears until every inch of my brain is either cleansed of that unholy knowledge or it suffers catastrophic damage as punishment for even thinking to look up my name online was a good idea. Whichever comes first.”

“I will gladly assist,” Kira said sarcastically before striding off down the docks. “Though I would much prefer to see what, if any, exotic animals they have to expand my menagerie.”

“You sure?” JD asked, bounding after her. “You’ll miss out on your one and only chance to successfully kill me. I promise I won’t resist. I’ll even let you drill a hole into my skull to pour the bleach in!”

Skye watched them both go and laughed quietly to himself. “It’s amazing how quickly JD is unfazed by how his reputation as a psychotic killer is spreading, isn’t it?”

Wood gave his feline friend a smirk, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and gently punching Skye’s chest. “Right. Just like how your reputation is already spreading as ‘the Disruptor’, eh?”

That brought another eye roll from Skye. “I’m still blaming Buster for that one. Apparently people are already saying that the Inquisition has reached out to me to see if I’d join.”

“Have they?”

“Of course not. Inquisitors use machinery to disable magic. My shamanistic skills are technically forbidden, remember?”

Skye’s magic was a form of shamanism which was the art of using and manipulating Spirit energy directly. Though not really forbidden, it was frowned upon given that Spirit energy could severely impact mental and emotional faculties. Still, there were no stipulations that he had to use his Spirit energy to cast his spells and manipulate the world around him. This was a reason Skye tended to tug at the ‘magical strings’ as he called them of other people’s spells instead of casting his own.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Wood said, striding down the docks. “Anyway, I’ll come with you to the magic store. There might be some neat materials.”

One of the things that Wood had really been looking forward to when on Incendius was to visit any of the major weapons manufacturers or smithies run by the renowned blacksmiths of Incendius. Every Station of Tower Thirteen had its own unique materials, after all, and their applications in different fields always fascinated Wood. He was hoping to see some Stones of Eternal Fire or maybe even some Red Adamantium which were unique to Incendius.

He quickly became aware of the downside of being in such a crowded port. There were so many people that they were constantly bumping into him. One person stepped on his tail, making him yelp and when he turned around to shout, his wings smacked into someone else who reprimanded him in turn. He was forced to wrap his wings around himself and curl his tail around his waist to keep himself from running into people with his enormous hide. He almost wished he had Buster and Kane in front of him to clear a path.

It would’ve been easy to cast a spell and have him hovering over the crowd or project a barrier around himself but the Incendians didn’t seem to rely on magic that much or at all. It would be common to see Havenese citizens floating through the air on some spell or bolting from one side of a building to another using magic. Here, everyone was just walking. If he were to use magic, it would call undue attention to himself.

Thankfully, they entered the magic store Skye had spotted from the bus. There were no phasing doorways, magically guarded entry ways or even sliding door. Just a simple wooden frame, doorknob and lock. Wood stepped inside to the jingle of some bells and the sounds of the busy port was instantly drowned out. There were musty tomes and folded parchments on display, each likely containing a spell or collection of spells for the avid spellcaster. The front counter, however, was what caught Wood’s attention.

“Whoa… is that Roran?” he commented.

At the sound of his name, the big Tigris’ ears twitched backwards and Roran turned around. He broke into a charming grin and waved at them. “Hey kids. I wasn’t expecting you to arrive so soon. Where’s the rest of your party?”

“Out and about,” Skye replied, stepping towards the counter where a homely Apean was manning the desk while smoking from a small pipe. “Buster is out sampling some Incendian street foods with JD’s cousin, Kane. Lady Kurasama has gone off to see if she can make some pacts with any local Incendian creatures and I strongly suspect JD has gone off to keep an eye on her so she doesn’t do anything crazy.”

Really? That’s why he followed her? I totally missed that.

“Not sure where Mr. Clarke and Rayne are, though,” admitted Skye. “I came here because I wanted to see what spells they had on offer.”

A familiar rumble came from the left side of the store. “You came to the right place.” Konseral Darmin emerged from a side room where he was carrying what appeared to a small crate of roughly cut stones. He set it on the counter. “I’ll grab these, Farroway.”

Wood padded over and peered into the crate. His eyes shone at the sight of the stones there. “Whoa! Is that sunsilver!”

The chunks of rock were refined but crudely cut bricks of a silvery metal with faint yellowish-orange veins running through it. Sunsilver was a durable metal that was highly resistant to heat. It’s melting point was so intense that most Incendian smiths had to use magic to make it malleable instead of the traditional way of smelting it down.

That would explain the crude cuts. Magic was used outside of a mould.

“You know your metal,” Konseral chuckled.

“My mom is a weapons manufacturer, after all,” Wood said with a shrug. “And I’ve always had an interest in making weapons myself. It’s why pack these.” He gave the black manafibre vest a smack with a hand to indicate the four Matter Converters mounted on his back. “I know that sunsilver’s major advantage is its ability to store and expel heat. You could heat up a piece of sunsilver in raw fire and it’d absorb all that energy. With the proper spell, the sunsilver can then unleash all that fire. It’s what the Custodia Solis used to use before they were given their Nezegothian Lances.”

Roran plucked one of the chunks of rock and absently tossed it into the air. “You know your history. You know who made those Lances?”

Yes! This is opportunity to show Roran that I’m a capable smith!

“Yeah,” he answered eagerly, tail slapping the floor. “They were made by Erik von Darkmoth. Currently ranked the 10th best smith on Incendius. He runs a school in the town of Firefalls Hallow. Sort of retired now since he made his ‘magnum opus’, the Blistering Blade.”

The Tigris smith let out a soft laugh and placed the chunk of silvery rock back into the crate. “Kind of cruel that Darkmoth would never let anyone out-smith him now. He’ll perpetually be 10th. No one will ever take that title from him.” Roran’s eyes became somewhat distant. “Just like Rahl.”

Rahl? Who’s Rahl?

Skye had a keen intuition of knowing when someone wanted to ask a question but didn’t have the courage to. So he gave voice to the question Wood was scared would tarnish his credibility in Roran’s eyes. “Who is Rahl?”

“Incendius’ best smith,” Konseral supplied. The powerfully built boar waved the band he had wrapped around his wrist, paying for the purchase. “But he’s gone missing. Supposedly he went looking for the Velthafrim Lost Fleet.”

That was a name that Wood knew. “The Velthafrim Lost Fleet? Isn’t that just a legend?”

“A legend that’s cost many people their lives,” agreed Konseral as he picked up the crate once more. “Three corvettes, two frigates, two light cruisers, two heavy cruisers, a single battleship, one carrier and the flagship, the Velthafrim. A Titan-class starship.”

Titans were an aged starship design when people thought bigger ships meant bigger firepower. The Velthafrim Lost Fleet was supposedly deployed during the Purge of Time but got lost somewhere in the Void between Incendius and Nebulus. The apparent loss of a Titan was a huge blow to the Incendian fleet though official records claimed that the Velthafrim or its escort fleet never existing in the first place and the legends of the battlegroup getting lost in the void were just that, myth and speculation by ghost hunters. Occasionally, there would be new ‘sightings’ of a fleet of ghosts ships escorting a massive starship of unknown design in the darkness of the Void but such rumours were rife especially in deep-Void travel.

“Kind of weird that Incendius’ finest smith would go chasing a legend, don’t you think?” Skye asked.

Roran shrugged his broad shoulder and gestured that they follow him and Konseral out of the shop. “Rahl was always considered a bit of an eccentric. His works were and are still the stuff of legends and any original piece made from Rahl goes for millions. But from what he told me when I last spoke to him, the Velthafrim was supposed to be powered by an experimental core made from a synthesised crystal. Obviously, he wanted to find the damn thing and see what he could make from it.”

“He’s certainly courageous and not like the average smith.”

There was a flash of annoyance in Roran’s eyes and he turned away from Skye with a gruff grunt.

Wood stepped in between them and offered the brawnier of the Tigris a shaky smile. “Think I’d be able to see your workstation, Roran? I’d really like to see how a master smith works.”

Northridge’s expression softened lightly. “Sure thing, kid. We’ve gotten the sunsilver so let’s gather the rest of your group and head on up.”

“A moment,” Konseral said, holding up a hand. He turned towards Wood with a pleasant, endearing smile. “Young Bladebreaker, I still have to apologise for what happened at your gala.” He pressed a hand against his chest and bowed apologetically towards Wood. “I must confess something.”

That you secretly hired the hit on yourself just to boost your numbers? Wood though irritably. That you tricked poor Roran here with your charm and with to get people to join you, slave away under your name and make them promises of migration here on Haven!?

“I was fully aware that the Fuocotan would attack that night.”

A sudden chill ran down Wood’s spine and he felt Skye tense beside him. If only JD or Alex were around. They could pile on the evidence against Konseral with this confession. His hands clenched tightly into fists and started to unfurl his wings in case he needed to get mobile quickly.

“My advisors told me that there was a very high probability that the Fuocotan would attack,” the Porcinus sighed heavily, his eyes cast down and bowing slightly towards Wood. “Char, in particular, warned me that there was a very good chance that the Fuocotan would make another attempt during your gala. It was fairly private, mostly secluded and with all the preparations being made, it would be relatively easy for them to sneak in as easily as they did at Pinnacle to make the attempt.”

Wait a minute. What is he saying?

“I did tell you that with all their tech and skills they wouldn’t have to kill and replace any people,” Roran grunted gruffly. “From the police reports, they had actually snuck in through the docking bay and set up a base in the parking lot after all the guests had arrived and the food was already being prepared.”

“They are more technologically advanced than the Blind Sisters of old,” agreed Konseral. He glanced towards Wood apologetically. “I’m not saying your security systems are at all that easy to infiltrate but given how they were positioned, it’s fair to say that they wanted to attack as soon as they could before I could shore up my defences.” He gestured at the crate of sunsilver he was hoisting under one arm. “Hence the metal.”

You know… He’s actually making sense. None of the waiting staff were Fuocotan in disguise, I think. So is it so hard to think that the Fuocotan realised he was going to be at the Gala and moved to attack? They were kind of disorganised…

“I was warned not to attend,” Konseral continued. “That I would be putting other people in danger. But I could not resist the opportunity to bolster support for the Reaching Flame. For you see…” The big boar lifted his eyes and there was genuine fear in his eyes and his lips were quivering. “We are all that’s left of the Flame.”

That was a glass shattering moment. Wood had been informed by Rayne and Alex that the Reaching Flame’s Incendian branches had been annihilated by some unknown force and the military was investigating the cause. But the fact that Konseral had not let this news spread either to his followers or to anyone in Haven had been clear signs that he was hiding something… wasn’t it?

“What do you mean?” Skye prompted. “Don’t you have branches on Incendius?”

“That’s the thing,” Roran grumbled. His eyes were directed out the window, scanning for danger. “Someone’s been systematically destroying our facilities and killing our people on Incendius. I’m willing to bet that it’s the same person that hired the hit on Konseral.”

I never thought of it like that. Could JD and the military’s assessment be wrong? Maybe Konseral really is the victim here. Innocent until proven guilty, right?

“Our numbers have been severely diminished and we have no supplies coming from Incendius anymore,” Konseral continued. “We sell our products to Haven and it helps that we grow most of our produce here. Less taxes and it means we can use the money we raise to continue to support families who have been hit hard by the Fall.” The leader of the Reaching Flame exchanged glances with Roran. “And quite frankly, everyone here is afraid of going back to Incendius given the civil war and the annihilation of other branches. Their future is unsure and they’re scared that merely being associated with our charity would be a death sentence.”

Konseral sighed, his shoulder sagging. “And that’s why I was so eager to talk to your mother and the others at the Gala. I had hoped to garner support. The fine people of Haven are very generous and courageous. I mean, look at you and your friends! You jumped to our aid against professional assassins! If even a fraction of our Havenese neighbours would lend their support to us, then I know the Reaching Flame will survive.”

Those words didn’t sit well with Wood particularly because he now felt guilt over doubting Konseral. This poor guy had created this charity and was now being targeted by people who were after his head for some reason. He wasn’t sure why but what kind of person would automatically assume that the victim called the hit on themselves?

It says a lot about our society that we would assume some deceit in the first instance the moment something bad happens.

“To that end, I know I put yourself, your mother and all those people in danger because of my desperation,” Konseral said solemnly. “So since you’re an aspiring smith, why don’t I get you something from Farroway’s fine collection?”

Wood was caught off guard by the suggestion. “Oh… Uh, you don’t need to. I mean, I could probably just buy it if I wanted…”

Stupid! Stupid! What the hell are you saying!?

Konseral didn’t register the slight. “Please, I insist. If not for the price then at least for the gesture. A token of my gratitude for honouring us in your home and again for saving my life.”

“Well if you put it that way.” He hiked a thumb at Skye. “Mind if we grab something for Skye as well? He’s the one that disabled the Fuocotan’s ability to teleport and really turned the tide of the battle for us.”

The charity leader beamed, glad that his gesture was not going to be refused. “Of course! What can I get for you, my young friend?”

Skye seemed lost in thought for a moment and he regarded one of the scrolls resting nearby. “I’ll have to browse the catalogue first. Why don’t you to pick out a nice rock and I’ll make my decision then.”

The cold response from Skye was a little off-putting and Wood gave his friend a quizzical look. The Tigris spellcaster seemed lost in thought as he pored over the nearby tomes and scrolls.

Maybe he’s just really focused on what he wants…

Konseral led him into the adjacent room where the Procinus had emerged from earlier. There was a fine assortment of stones all native to Incendius. It was also quite hot as most of Incendius’ stones were infused with Fire Magic. There were a lot of heartfire obsidian samples, all artfully sculpted into brilliant designs. One item caught his attention however.

It was a sculpture made of Rologist Amber – an orange stone that was synthetically created and had streams of red streaking through its interior. Geomancy had been used to keep the crimson colouration constantly moving to give it the appearance of living flame. The statue itself was in the shape of a six-winged bird. Wood instantly recalled the same bird emblem that JD had on his clothing.

“What this?” he asked, pointing at the figurine. It was about as big as his hand and he plucked it off the shelf to show Konseral.

Konseral looked surprised by his interest. “Ah, Rologist Amber. It just looks like fire but it’s actually Geomancy that makes it look like that. If you don’t see that more often here in Haven, then it is a cultural crime.”

“Oh no. We get them all the time and I know about the Amber.” He turned the statue to himself. The avian beast looked almost sad with its opened beak and sorrowful eyes. “I was actually talking more about this bird thing. What is it?”

“Oh,” replied the boar, nodding sagely. “That is called the Adramalech Phoenix.” Konseral took the statue gently from him. “In ancient times when Tower Thirteen was whole, the Apostle of Fire, Adramalech was worshiped alongside the Mother Goddess. Legend has it was because of this worship that fed the Apostles’ greed and arrogance and that is what drove them to try and usurp the Mother Goddess. This six winged bird is the emblem of Adramalech. Supposedly every wing represents one of the aspects of fire.”

Wood cocked his head to the side. He immediately straightened it when he realised he was not a canine and he was instinctively copying JD. “There are six aspects of fire?”

“Why yes.” Konseral chuckled at him and turned the statue towards him. He pointed at each of the wings in turn. “Fire provides heat for our homes, gives light through the darkness and casts smoke to the skies. It also leaves behind ash in its wake, burns those who touch it and is destruction in its simplest form.” The charity leader handed the statue back to Wood. “At least so the old teaching go. I think I may have gotten one wrong there. One of the aspects was meant to be something about shadows or embers? I can’t remember. It’s mostly seen in occult fantasies.” Konseral turned to regard the rest of the stones. “Anyway, surely there must be something else here that’d catch your interest?”

“I’d like this, actually,” Wood said, running his fingers along the statue. It wasn’t particularly striking in terms of craftsmanship but given the emblems on JD’s shirt, he thought it would make for a suitable gift.

“Really?” asked the Porcinus. “As you wish.”

They returned to the main store and Skye had picked out a single, small tome. It wasn’t a magical one either. It looked to be a history book. Wood knew that Skye liked using traditional media when reading but he wasn’t sure why his friend would by a book entitled the ‘Wanderer of Smoke’.

Konseral happily paid for it all and the duo headed back out to the docks. Wood tapped his left shoulder where his phone had been mounted into Quadrant. A hardlight panel sprang up in front of him and he executed a quick conference with Buster and JD… until he realised he didn’t actually have JD’s number.

Buster’s face appeared a moment later and he seemed to be slurping some oddly short noodles. “Hey Wood!” he mumbled between bites. “What’s up?”

“We found Konseral and Roran. They’re going to bring us up to the complex. You guys ready to go?”

Suddenly, Kane shoved his face right next to Buster’s until the two were both on the same screen. Both were eating those weird noodles though Kane seemed to have a very large strangely shaped steak in his muzzle too.

“Want us to bring you something? These Fire Poppers fucking sweet! Well not really. They’re spicy as hell and kick three fucking times! It’s awesome!” Somehow, he managed to say all that even with a muzzle full of what Wood could only assume was the Incendian mushroom soup and Fire Poppers.

“Uh…” He glanced towards Skye who was distracted by the contents of his book. “No thanks. Hey, can you grab JD on the line? I don’t have his number.”

“Sure. I’ll send it over. See you back at the bus!”

Buster hung up and a few seconds later, he sent a text with JD’s number. As they were heading towards the docks again, Wood noted that both Rayne and Alex were still there.

“You guys didn’t go anywhere?” he asked.

“Some of us have to be adults and stick around in case our hosts arrive where we’re supposed to meet them,” came Rayne’s snarky yet good-natured reply.

“Apologies for the delay,” Konseral said. “We just needed to get some supplies in town.”

While the adults talked, Wood quickly dialled JD’s number hoping that his friend hadn’t gone ahead with his promise and poured bleach down his ear. One the second ring, JD picked up.

“No Kira!” came the imageless shout. “Good Goddess! You do not need a monkey that throws flaming poop! And, of course I’d run away from that! It’s a monkey that throws flaming poo!”

He hung up at the stares of everyone around him.

“I think I’ll just text him instead.”

Metus Daemonium (Rayne)

Fiery Fists of Fury

When they had all gathered – and Buster and Kane put the boxes of Incendian food they had bought onto the bus – Konseral and Roran took them to a train that would bring them to the Reaching Flame complex. Rayne had to admit that it was very retro for a mote to use a train system but it was certainly cheaper than using aerial transports. The fuel costs of taking a shipment from the Flame’s farms the relatively short distance to Meadowbay would be outweighed by the fact that they couldn’t carry at all that much in comparison to the train. The train may be slower but it could pack more and was cheaper fuel-wise.

As they rode in the one and only passenger car at the front of the train, Konseral went into detail on their operations. The Reaching Flame grew Incendian products on Altima Meadows using careful Meteomancy to control the weather and make it more akin to Incendian temperatures. They also bred Incendian livestock to be sold or donated as they saw fit.

“In essence, the Reaching Flame provides a way for Haven to get cheaper Incendian produce without having to go through all the import taxes,” Konseral added. “We’re basically a local farmer’s market for all things Incendian.”

The volunteers also provided their expertise through creative hobbies. Roran ran smithing classes to locals and they would produce Incendian-style works that could be sold to help maintaining the Reaching Flame and continue their donations to Haven.

“You’ll excuse me if this sounds like a dumb question,” Alex said, lifting his paw into the air. “But why would a charity need to sell produce like that? Wouldn’t you just donate the stuff?”

There was a soft scoff from Wood that didn’t miss Rayne’s attention.

Something’s bothering him. I wonder what.

“That was our initial business plan,” answered Konseral bashfully. “But when the entire mote was given to us by the Generals and people started moving in, we had to do something to maintain the mote. Food, power, entertainment and all the necessities had to be established and maintained. The Flame couldn’t get by on donations or volunteer work after all. Eventually, we had to approach the problem a bit more like a business as we cared for people, their families and their needs. We provide free food to everyone who lives here on Altima and any excess after the necessary sales to break even, we donate. Thankfully, the fine work of craftsmen like Roran here allow us to donate more than we would use to sell.”

Not exactly the definition of a true charity but people have to make a living somehow, I guess.

Rayne narrowed his eyes at the various people working the fields.

Especially when those very same people have nowhere to go given they’re here from another Station.

Konseral went on to explain that the Reaching Flame facility itself was built to house all the volunteers that had come to Haven in the wake of the Fall and then more. Though as time went on, those same volunteers moved to the outer suburbs instead of living on the facility itself, they would often spend weekends or holidays volunteering up on the site. Altima Meadows also attracted local Havenese and they often assisted in the activities of the Flame as well.

“We also run volunteer seminars that help educate Havenese citizens on Incendian culture and lifestyles,” continued the Porcinus. “There’s surprisingly little about Incendius that the average Havenese citizen knows. Most of the time, people only see the Sun Spire and little else. But there is so much more about Incendius than just the source of our light.”

Rayne turned his gaze out the window and ignored the rest of the practiced mantra. This was clearly a sales pitch for new volunteers. Whether it was out of paranoia or some other plot, he clearly wanted the party on his side. JD seemed to think that Konseral hired the hits on himself but there were holes in that theory. The more obvious answer was that Harm Chronos was targeting the Reaching Flame but even that had its fair share of ‘whys’ and ‘hows’.

There are too many questions to make a reasonable conclusion. But we can’t just sit and wait for our enemies to make the next attack. We’ve got to make our own move…

His purple eyes glanced towards Konseral who was going on about the many Incendian-inspired furniture and trinkets that they sold.

… before someone decides to move against us. I know all too well the consequences of waiting too long for fortune to favour us.

He quickly glanced around the carriage. Almost everyone was relaxed and seemed quite at ease with their approach to the Reaching Flame facility. The exceptions were Skye and Kira. The Lady Summoner of the Kurasama Family seemed incredibly irritated and was constantly throwing JD some foul looks. Skye was bust poring over a new tome he had obtained and was chewing on his lower lip in a clear sign of frustration and anxiety that Rayne had observed in the Tigris.

I better ease up as well. Nothing bad should happen today. Konseral will just be beefing up security.

It was the best time to visit the Reaching Flame and gather as much information about the layout as they could. Only a fool would strike at the heavily defended mote so soon and the Fuocotan had already suffered a humiliating defeat twice in rapid succession. Whoever hired them would be very disappointed at their progress. A sound, tactical mind would sit back, observe Konseral’s preparations and look for weaknesses.

To Rayne, he would have sent people to ‘volunteer’ on Altima and work their way through his ranks to scout for more information. Sow dissent and fear through the ranks by casting doubts on the security force. Conversely, whisper about how Konseral was becoming increasingly paranoid with all his militaristic preparations. A rift between two factions would distract Konseral’s gaze from the dagger in his back.

But that was the opinion of a sane man.

He had no idea who he was dealing with and he had encountered his fair share of insane tacticians.

“And here we are approaching the station!” Konseral exclaimed.

The train pulled up towards a set of large, white archways with the sigil of Incendius emblazoned at its very peak. The blazing sun with a single vertical stroke through its centre that was meant to be a ‘1’ was familiar to all of Tower Thirteen as Incendius was considered the First Station and the Station of the Sun. The archway was at least thirty feet tall and about twenty feet wide. A wall as tall as the arch spread across the property providing a somewhat rustic decoration of climbing foliage but little in terms of defence. The train station beyond was mostly a loading bay and there were several workers ready to pluck the supplies offered.

Konseral led them off the passenger carriage and they were met by the Racoorin, Sylana, upon disembarking.

“Oh good,” she said, once again dressed in the white, figure-hugging combat leathers. “And here I thought I’d have to come down to Meadowbay because you’d been attacked again.” She flicked the two red ribbons that hung from her shoulders absently. Each of them had the emblem of the Reaching Flame sewn into them and didn’t seem to serve any purpose but decoration.

“We can take care of ourselves, Sylana,” Roran grunted, carrying the box of sunsilver under one arm. “I’ll be in my workshop trying to make something useful out of this.”

Sylana watched him go with a raised eyebrow and a slightly curled lip. “You know the volunteers need to see you as much as they see your weapons, right Roran? For being one of the best fighters in the Reaching Flame and head of security, people ought to be able to put a face to the force that’s guarding them.”

Roran just huffed gruffly and padded away. Given that the station was just at the entrance of the complex and there was still a bit of a trek to the actual facility itself, Rayne was very impressed at the Tigris’ energy despite his age.

Little wonder Alex likes him so much.

Sylana intercepted the teacher, arms crossed and a smug smile on her face. “I’m glad you came as well. Of all the people in that fight the other day, I found you the most capable.”

He quickly glanced over his shoulder to make sure the others were out of earshot range. Konseral was leading the rest of the party up the road to the large, white-brick facility and leaving him behind.

“Really now?” he commented. “I would’ve thought Skye or at least JD would’ve been quite capable. Maybe even Kira.”

She gave him a sarcastic scoff. “The Tigris, maybe. But he’s a little too reliant on his magic. He looks good and probably works out but he’s a typical Havenese teenager. Ripped physique, good looks and no personality to the point where he appropriates another culture’s identity because it’s ‘in’.”

Well if we’re stereotyping…

“Skye is actually Miasman by birth. He’s studying over at Pinnacle as part of a broader education program,” Rayne provided. “He enjoys a game of Manallium and is actually on the team in Pinnacle. If you stick him and Wood in front of a game, he’ll just growl and grunt at you as if all his brain turned to muscle and you better count your fingers if you hand him some snacks because you just may lose something.” He gave Sylana a little, smug smile of his own. There was something enjoyable about lording his knowledge of his students on someone. “And I know what you’re thinking. JD thinks he’s a badass, cocky as fuck and an entitled little shit who thinks he’s invulnerable while being the Goddess’ gift to all Tower Thirteen.”

The Racoorin waved her tail absently through the air and began her way down the dusty, rocky path. Rayne followed along right beside her. “Given the way he purposefully antagonised all those assassins to him and the boastful way he ‘saved’ me, I think I’d be justified in my assessment.”

“Then you’d be surprised to know that JD purposefully acts in the most antagonistic way because it disarms people and gets them to act rashly. Further, he acts as a lightning rod for danger so that those he cares about don’t have to put themselves in danger.”

Doesn’t mean he won’t use them to get an advantage but the trade-off is that he will do his best to protect them… even if he dies in the process.

The dirt road leading up to the facility was more a well-used forest trail instead of an actual path. He could see grooves from where carts and trolleys had been used to carry supplies up to the facility. The soil was hardpacked with footprints and weathered with use. Incendians really were a hardworking people. Even with all the technology Haven offered them, they still carried their crates of supplies up the gentle hill.

“Your Red Lightning still sounds reckless to me,” Sylana said with a sigh. “He doesn’t value his own life. There’s something romantic about putting others in front of your own safety but you won’t save anyone if you’re dead.”

She’s pragmatic. I like that.

“And you think I’m any better?” Rayne laughed softly.

She gave him a faint smile. “I don’t know, Mr. Noam. Perhaps you would like to lift my opinion of you in an exhibition match?”

His interest was piqued though he could clearly see through her ploy. “So fight the toughest guy in the group that just saved your leader in front of people to give all your volunteers confidence that your security force is as strong as they claim to be without having to hire these wild cards that you barely know and may even be related to the assassination plots, huh?”

There was a flash surprise and annoyance in her eyes. “It had crossed my mind that it was rather suspicious that the Red Lightning and his group were present in both attacks. Not to mention that oddly quick seduction of our head of security which ultimately led to your invitation here. It’s entirely possible that you hired the Fuocotan to make you all look good so that you could make your way in here and do something sinister.”

Rayne stopped in his tracks and turned to her. They were halfway up the hill. A breathtaking view of the lush, flat farmlands stretched out before them. A gentle breeze brushed past them, catching Rayne’s ponytail and brushing through Sylana’s short cropped hair. Despite this, the air was incredibly tense.

“I won’t pretend that I trust any of you,” she admitted harshly. “But you did save Konseral and myself. And Roran, I suppose. So I can only give you the benefit of the doubt.” Her features softened and she let out a gentle sigh. The tension dissolved with the exhalation. “Look, everyone here is scared.” She turned her eyes towards the vast horizon and all the farmlands it held. “A lot of people here owe Konseral for all he’s done for them. I know what people think this place is. I’ve read the news. They think it’s some sort of loophole to get Incendians to migrate here to Haven. They come here to volunteer, stay indefinitely because they work for the charity while living in Havenese homes and enjoying the same luxuries as any citizen.”

Her eyes turned sharply back towards him. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but the branches of the Reaching Flame have been under attack on Incendius.”

It surprised him that she would be so open with the information especially since Konseral had yet to go public with it. Havenese news outlets had yet to find it yet though it would only be a matter of time with the attack on the Bladebreaker manor. Feigning ignorance would only irk Sylana so he came up front with his most of his knowledge.

“I did my research. No other facility remains. This, right here…” He gestured at the broad, white building behind him. “… this is the last bastion of the Reaching Flame.”

She nodded gravely. “No survivors either. When the first attack at Pinnacle occurred, the leaders of the Flame were scared that whoever was attacking the Flame on Incendius was reaching out here too.” One of her arms wrapped defensively over her chest, crossing over to grip her shoulder like she was protecting her heart. “We tried reaching out to anyone else that we may have associations with but no one was answering. Anyone we send down there disappears as well.”

Sylana lifted her other hand as if to reach out to him but froze and quickly pulled it behind her back. “We’re in need of help, Noam. More, we need the strength and confidence to stand up for ourselves. If you and I can fight, even if it’s just at a fraction of our skills in front of everyone, I’m sure they will be more than willing to take some extra lessons from me on self-defence and protect the Reaching Flame.”

Rayne gave her a sympathetic smile. “I don’t think a single fight between you and me will cut it.” He winked at her slyly. “How about we bring in the others as well? They’ve all likely heard about Skye’s magical skills and JD’s stealth and speed. How about we pit them both against one of your own? Wood can face off against Roran. Those two are kind of alike.”

Her features brightened and she smiled genuinely for the first time since he had known her. “That’s a brilliant idea! I’ll get Char to test his mettle against Skye. Your assassins can go up against Konseral! It’ll be symbolic!”

“Assassins go after your leader, JD saves them. JD goes after your leader, what will the outcome be?” Rayne recited. “Sounds like fun.” He hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll go fetch my team. You run it by Konseral and this Char fellow. Meet you for lunch for the fight?”

Grinning brightly, she punched his shoulder lightly. “Don’t think you can load up on our food either. I want you at our best and Incendian fare is pretty damn hardy!”

She turned and bolted towards the facility.

Rayne watched her go, his smile fading quickly.

“And don’t think I missed you mentioning that you were going to give the volunteers some ‘extra’ lessons.”

Wilde Streak (Buster)

Debt of the Heart

“An exhibition match?” JD repeated. “Really?” He looked worriedly over to Kane who was still carrying his abnormally large duffel bag over his shoulder. “I’m not sure about this, Rayne…”

Rayne had gathered those he could to make the announcement. Everyone except for Alex was present. Judging from the insatiable desire of the older Clarke from the brief time they had known each other, Buster suspected that Alex was paying a visit to Roran. Buster hadn’t had an opportunity to explore the complex before Rayne had called them together.

Standing quietly just outside the gates of the Reaching Flame’s broad, white-brick facility, they held the impromptu meeting.

“I think it is a fine idea,” Kira said. “At their most basic, primal level, people understand strength. Whether they draw fear from it or inspiration, is something we can control. I agree with Sylana’s assessment. If people are already scared, let us give them confidence in their leaders. Words are hollow and meaningless. True might must be shown to show that the likes of Konseral are able to stand against the tide of assassins.”

JD gave her a bitter stare. “Are you talking about the Fuocotan or me?”

“I leave that to interpretation.”

“You’re still pissed that I ruined our morning tea by shouting very loudly that I wouldn’t go around chasing an Incendian Fyrtail Monkey for you to make a pact with so you can train it to throw flaming poo at me.”

She flashed him an angry stare. “You ruined a perfectly nice meal!”

“No. I only brought attention to us and embarrassed the hell out of you. I ruined it when I mentioned that those chocolate bars you were eating looked remarkably like dried faeces.”

Kira turned away from him though he was sure she looked a little green just before her features were blocked from him.

Goddess, these two are always at one another’s throats! Buster thought with a tinge of exasperation. He purposefully placed himself between the two so that neither of them would be inclined to come to blows.

“Focus here,” Rayne said, snapping his fingers. “It’s a good opportunity for us to gauge the strengths and weaknesses of the elite of the Reaching Flame. If we’re going to be fighting alongside them or – Goddess forbid – against them, we need to know exactly what they’re capable of.”

“And I get to test my weapons out against Roran!” exclaimed Wood excitedly. “Aw man! I’m so stoked!” He pumped a fist through the air. “I can’t wait to see what a Northridge Original is capable of!”

For as long as he had known him, Wood had been eager to prove his worth as a smith. Being the son of a creative and business savvy woman like Gloria Bladebreaker meant that everyone was always comparing his designs to hers. Though he had become interested in blacksmithing of his own accord with no pressure from his parents, the public still had its perceptions. Buster had long suspected his friend’s eagerness to become a Paladin stemmed from his need to deviate away from his mother’s line of work his preferred the newly emancipated military.

Maybe seeing Roran’s stuff in action might actually be useful to him. But we’re not here to have fun.

At the slightest show of muscle, Kane was instantly upon Wood. The big bear grabbed Wood’s biceps in both paws, running his fingers up and down the scaly bulge as sensually as one would stroke a throbbing cock.

“Ooooh!” cooed the very touchy-feely Ursus. “Your arm is so thick and vascular!”

Wood was frozen in place, his eyes staring off into the distance like he was having an out-of-body experience. Buster would’ve laughed if he wasn’t fighting his own erection.

Buster waved his paws through the air to bring attention back to the matter at hand. “Hang on. Why exactly are we trying to motivate the people that we’re pretty sure hired a hit on themselves?”

The brawny Draconis scowled at the black-furred bull. That was enough to pull his arm down and free him from Kane’s paralysing touch. “There’s no proof of that. Besides, why would Konseral hire a hit on himself? It wouldn’t make sense given the Reaching Flame has been decimated on Incendius.”

Whoa… where’d that come from?

“I dunno. Insurance? Isn’t that how all these things work out? Purposefully destroy your own property and hope the insurance companies don’t catch on while they bury you in cash? Then they’re foiled by a group of meddling kids and their dog?” He ruffled JD’s hair. “Hey, we’ve even got the guy that’s really into food!”

JD gave Buster a critical stare. “You do realise that that particular cartoon was about a bunch of draft-dodgers and the ‘guy that’s really into food’ is a stereotypical drug addict so stoned out of his gourd that he constantly eats, right?”

Buster blinked a few times, staring at JD with a blank stare. His little ears folded back and his massive shoulders sagged. “Awww… Thanks for ruining my childhood, JD.”

“Your childhood may have been filled with cartoons and real estate fraud but mine was more like Titan Attack. Hell, I even have the two swords to prove it.” JD turned his attention back to Rayne. “Have you considered that we’ll also be exposing our strengths and weaknesses to the potential enemy?”

Goddess, he’s a little testy. Is he pissed that Rayne’s suggesting this?

“Innocent until proven guilty,” Rayne warned. “I know you’ve got your opinions, JD, but ultimately, these people are doing good here. Whether the leadership’s intentions are purely altruistic or not, the volunteers know they are contributing to a charity. Those people need our help right now. If there is an attack be it from the Fuocotan or inside the Reaching Flame, we need to give the people confidence in their own skill.”

“These are Incendians,” Kira chimed in. “Unlike Havenese citizenry, they don’t have basic training in magic or combat let alone education on how to cast the proper spells in the event of an emergency.” She gestured towards the dirt road that led up to the complex. “You saw how they carried supplies up here manually. They aren’t overly dependent on technology or magic. Against a force like the Fuocotan, they would be crushed easily.”

“Not much of a difference between them and the gold-bloods at Wood’s party then, eh?” Buster supplied, trying to cheer up the mood.

No one even offered a pity chuckle.

“Regardless of their true motives, we have to keep up our ruse,” Rayne said. “This was Sylana’s idea and refusing would’ve been suicide for us. Besides, this will likely attract most if not all of the people in the complex. While someone is sparring with the elite of the Reaching Flame, someone else can sneak around and gather information.” He looked pointedly at JD. “You’ll likely be the last to fight as they’ll want Konseral’s fight to be the best. You’ll have plenty of time to look around.”

JD sighed heavily and closed his eyes. “I suppose that’s a decent plan.” He hiked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll go get Roran.”

“Great.” Rayne clapped his hands together. “Everyone else, let’s get ready for the fight.”

“I guess I’m not up for a match so I’ll just go with JD,” Buster said.

“I’ll come with,” Wood said immediately after. The way his wings bristled and his tail was painfully rigid made his true motivations behind the statement clear.

Way to be subtle, Wood.

“Fine,” Rayne said. “Kane, I’ll need your help setting up an impromptu arena. Kira, maybe some of your summoned creatures can help too.”

“If you would remove this Geas off me, perhaps I could be of more assistance,” she responded sweetly.

“Nice try, but no. Skye, think you can led a paw too?”

The Tigris was momentarily distracted, still poring over the tome he had purchased. Buster had to gently nudge him with an elbow to get him to respond. “What? Huh? Right. Sure.”

I wonder what’s so captivating about that book that he’s barely here at all?

JD led the way away from the small gathering. Rayne and his party began erecting a makeshift arena just outside the complex’s gates and many of the citizenry of Altima Meadows were already making their way to the site. Sylana’s voice bellowed out of the loud speakers, announcing the upcoming ‘tournament’ as she called it to be held in an hour. Her enthusiasm was infectious and with each belting word, Buster could feel his energy levels rising.

Roran’s workshop was located on the eastern side of the facility and was clearly visible due to the archaic hearth and chimney. Buster had to admit there was some degree of romanticism to seeing the traditional forge where a blacksmith would pore over a single weapon physically. These days, designers like Wood used Matter Converters to create their works. One could argue that the level of detail one could apply with the Converters was higher as a Havenese smith could ensure that every molecule was in the right place should they want. But even Buster, who veered away from anything to do with construction due to his father’s profession, knew that there was more emotion built into a weapon forged in the traditional methods instead of the scientific means applied by modern smiths.

The squat, rectangular building didn’t seem to hold much possibilities for ventilation save for that sole chimney. There was a single window which barely provided any natural light. He glimpsed a skylight though he doubted that it was opened very often.

“I always thought most smithies were out in the open,” he commented.

“That’s just in the vids,” said Wood. “When it comes to metal, you really want to be able to regulate the temperature of the weapon especially if you’re casting magic into it. Don’t want any distractions. The wrong spell and your steel could break.” He was practically bouncing on his heels. “I can’t wait to see what Roran is making right now!”

“I hope he doesn’t have any commitments for the rest of the afternoon. Sounds like he’ll have a hell of a fight against you.”

Wood beamed at him, the first sign of friendliness his buddy had shown him since he had poached JD as his ‘date’ to the Gala. “He’s a master smith and I’m sure his stuff is better than mine but I like to think I’ve got a wider range of spells than he does. I mean, I know I favour Ferromancy and all but Pinnacle teaches all sorts of stuff. From what I recall, Roran mainly focuses on Pyromancy and Luxmancy.”

Fire Magic and Light Magic. How befitting the guy that made a crown for the Sultan of the Sunless Lands.

JD, who had remained silent throughout the entire trip, pushed open brown, wooden door to Roran’s workshop. He took one step inside and immediately stopped. Buster wondered what could’ve frozen the Red Lightning like that and then he was hit by the smell.

The smell of sex and musk.

Inside the workshop, barely illuminated by the fires of the forge and what little light was offered through the sole window and skylight, were Roran Northridge and Alexander Clarke. Alex was bent over the anvil, staring at them wide-eyed and completely naked. Roran only had a dirty blacksmith’s apron on and some gloves but he was hilted right into Alex.

Well… We now know what Roran was ‘working on’.

JD’s features remained oddly unreadable. “There are some days when I wonder what my life would be like had I not been horribly traumatised as a child and trained into a military-sanctioned serial killer. But then I remind myself…” He gestured with a paw at his father. “Wow… that’s 90% me.”

Buster winced at that.

Damn… He must be pissed because that is a serious burn.

“There’s going to be a tournament held in about an hour,” JD said, his tone flat and his eyes regarding his father in an almost tired expression. “It’s a way to boost morale around here. Roran, you’re pegged to fight Wood. I could make a joke about how you’re going to ‘deal’ with Wood but it appears you already are.” He turned, beginning to shut the door. “So finish sheathing your sword in my dad and meet us outside of the complex. That’s where Rayne is setting up the arena.”

He shut the door and only then did Buster realise that JD’s irises were emitting a bright, blue glow like when he used his Ether Blade.

“Uh… JD, are you alright?” Buster ventured. “You seem a little… pissed.”

JD closed his eyes briefly and when he opened them again, that glow was gone. “Why would you say that?” he asked, trying to sound light but his gravelly voice broke when he tried to lift his pitch mid-question.

“Because I’m pretty sure you just reamed your dad and Roran in there and not in the fun way.”

“Yeah,” Wood muttered. “That was pretty harsh, man. I’m pretty sure you just gave them third-degree burns.”

“Nonsense,” answered the Red Lightning. “If I really wanted to hurt them, I’d do something like this…” He suddenly turned around and pushed the door open again though he poked only his head through the door. “Incidentally, I noticed that you’re not wearing a condom. Not that I’m complaining. My dad has had so much cock and cum in him that I’m pretty sure that all the sperm in there will probably mutate into a viable embryo. Just do me a favour, if this ends up in a long-term relationship with a child out of wedlock through some unholy combination of too much sex and divine spite…” He pointed at Roran. “You’re going to be ‘daddy’…” Then he pointed at Alex. “And you’ll still be my ‘dad’. Love ya both!”

Then he slammed the door shut, blue fire wreathed around his paw. A flicker of the flames was still emanated from the corners of his eyes. He turned to leave then seemed to remember something and pushed the door open again.

“Oh, and before I forget. You should know about the Kumquat Incident. See, my dad –”

Alex seized hammer and threw it furiously at his son. “Get out of here!”

JD shut the door in time just as the hammer hit the door. He was smiling. “Ah, I feel much better now.”

Buster exchanged glances with Wood and the two friends shared the same thought.

That was needlessly cruel.

It reminded Buster of when JD had mocked the Fuocotan on both assaults. He would hate to be the Red Lightning’s enemy.

“Uh… JD,” Wood ventured. “What was that?”

JD was striding away from the workshop, his steps long and fast to get him away from the place as quickly as possible. “That? That was nothing. Just a good old Clarke-family welcome to my new ‘daddy’ whom my dad didn’t even introduce to me and still has the balls – excuse the pun – to offer his ass while we’re on a mission! I mean is it too hard to ask for a little professionalism!?”

Whoa…

JD’s eyes were completely afire with those ethereal blue flames.

“I don’t think your dad really means anything by it, JD,” Buster said gently. “I mean, I guess he’s a bit of a horndog. Can you blame him? A guy his age, alone with only his son? He’d need to get some.”

“He gets enough!” JD barked, fangs bared. “Every two weeks he brings home some boy-toy that he hangs around until he gets ‘tired’ of him and then moves on. He leaves a trail of broken hearts and I seriously cannot stand another session of” – JD straightened, placed his paws on his hips and began bobbing his head side to side with his voice dipping low in a mocking tone – “‘Hey kiddo, so your dad and I are doing it and I just wanna make sure you’re okay with it.’”

He threw his paws up into the air. “It’s humiliating that all these guys think they need to get cosy with me to get to my dad! I’ve had to play catch in the backyard while some guy feigns interest in me more times than I can count! My dad has even gone to the point of meeting their kids and bringing them over for ‘play dates’ so often that I’m pretty sure I’ve sipped enough imaginary tea to drown an entire population! And don’t get me started on cleaning I have to do.”

Buster lifted an eyebrow. “Cleaning?”

“You saw them in there?” JD growled, gesturing in the vague direction of the forge. “They were doing it on Roran’s anvil. If there isn’t an inch of our house that my dad hasn’t had sex on, I’d be surprised. And yes, Buster, that includes the stool you were sitting on a couple of days ago.”

I’m not sure if I should be disgusted or impressed.

“Every surface?” Buster offered, trying to make light of the situation. “Even the ceiling?”

“Yes. He once brought someone in that could manipulate the forces of gravity. Taking showers when the laws of physics were subverted is incredibly hard.”

Resting a hand gently on JD’s shoulder, Buster said, “Look JD. Your dad still has to have a life of his own. It may be an impressively perverted life but it’s one that doesn’t revolve around you. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a big part of his life but you’ve got to remember you’re his son not his god. He doesn’t live for you.”

JD stopped his fuming strides and took a deep breath. “Buster, I appreciate the sentiment. However, I’m never going to stop getting annoyed at my dad’s sexcapades. Even during the Fall, he’d use his charm to get in people’s beds. He was a military spy before the war after all. I’ve had to rescue his ass – sometimes literally – more times than I can count. It’s not about him living his own life. It’s about him being careless and impulsive with who he wants to sleep with. I’m pretty sure he’s thought about seducing you.” He glanced towards the brawny Draconis next to him. “You too Wood.”

Wood tensed up. “Uh… Okay. Let’s change the subject!” He snapped his fingers and reached into the little side bag he wore across his waist. “Here, JD. I got this from the magic store down at Meadowbay and thought you might like it.”

The dragon handed JD deep orange statue about as big as his fist. Flickering red flames danced within what was shaped like a six-winged bird. Buster realised that it matched the various emblems that JD wore across his attire.

Huh. Nice move Wood. If I wasn’t mildly interested in JD too, I’d almost be jealous.

Buster mentally kicked himself for that last thought. Though he may have been openly gay, he didn’t want to be seen as one of those overly flamboyant, sex-crazed gays like… well, like Alex. In truth, he hadn’t had a boyfriend in a long time. A meaningful relationship was surprisingly difficult to find in Haven especially when everyone and anyone was capable of altering their appearance or casting spells that could delude their ‘partner’ into falling for them. He had been burned a few times by such tricks. But there was something endearing about just how tough and honest JD was. Perhaps because he didn’t hide his scars behind magic or the fact that he couldn’t use magic to deceive him had something to do with that attraction.

That and he was genuinely cute when relaxed.

JD plucked the statue from Wood’s hands, a look of surprise on his face that eased away the rage and soothed the flames streaming from his eyes. “Wow Wood… You didn’t have to.”

“I know but I saw it in the shop and I remembered you like this design. I mean, it’s all over your clothes.”

Then a pang of sorrow hid JD’s eyes again. “Right…” He handed it back to Wood. “Thanks but I don’t really have somewhere to put it right now. How about you hold onto it and after this is all over, I’ll make sure to put it somewhere safe?”

Wood retrieved the statue with a gentle – and relieved – smile. “Sure.”

The raging Wulfun calmed, the trio headed back out of the complex to the makeshift arena that Rayne and his team had constructed. It was by no means as complex as the Manallium arenas at Pinnacle but more of a traditional circular ring made of magically reinforced stone with a wide gap at the centre for the two fighters. A square platform had been erected at the centre of the ring indicating the boundaries of the fight. Fifteen feet separated the edges of the ring to where the stone had been forged to appear like stands and seats. There were already people gathering at the stands. Many were excitedly talking about the upcoming match especially since the boisterous Sylana was already on the platform stretching and Rayne was calmly speaking with Kira, Skye and Kane.

As they approached, Rayne waved them over.

“Where’s Roran?” asked Rayne.

Buster could already see the spark of irritation returning to JD’s eyes and quickly spoke. “He’s coming.” He immediately regretted those words and caught Wood’s piercing stare. But it was too late to rescind it and he stuck with what had already been uttered.

“And Alex?”

“He’s… coming,” JD muttered reluctantly.

I think he’s making a joke. I think.

“Alright.” Rayne glanced over his shoulder at where Sylana was doing some quick squats. “I’ll go first against Sylana. Then it’ll be Roran and Wood. After that will be Char and Skye. Konseral and JD will be last.”

Buster looked to the Flame’s corner where Konseral was speaking with a man he had never seen before. The impression he got was instantly ‘pyromancer’. A full head of fiery red hair arrayed his skull like a halo. A defined widow’s peak coupled with the way the hair maintained its own height almost made it appear like a lit flame. Long, billowing robes of the same design as the rest of the Reaching Flame covered his body including two long red sashes that crossed his torso in an ‘x’ formation. An odd design choice as that was the traditional garb of most high priests of the Clericus arm of the Church of the Tower_._ Bright, almost orange eyes were filled with intelligence and seemed to constantly roil and twist like they were containing living flames in their irises. A sharp chin coupled with thin, pale and almost invisible lips made the man look almost appear like a walking tongue of flame with a pair of fiery eyes.

Being an accomplished Physiomancer, Buster could tell that despite the flowing robes, Char the Cleanser had a rather fit body beneath the fabric. His shoulders were wide and his back straight. Just the faintest outline of a bicep in the right light when the human bent his arm displayed his level of fitness. Though nowhere near as bulky as Konseral or fit as Roran, he still had an imposing physique that would make him a formidable challenge for Skye.

“Alright, I’m up,” Rayne announced, turning towards Sylana. “You know what to do. Start looking for clues about the second round when Wood faces off against Roran. By then, everyone will be captivated. I’ll try to drag this out for as long as possible to make sure that it’s a good fight and set you up for a hell of a show, Wood.”

The blonde-haired Draconis flexed a mighty bicep while bearing a savage grin. “You don’t need to worry about me, Rayne! I’m going to give it my all!”

Buster headed towards the front row of stands with the rest of the party and took a seat. He instinctively wrapped an arm around JD and realised a second too late that neither of them had officially called themselves a couple yet. Thankfully, JD didn’t tense but neither did he lean into the gentle one-armed embrace either.

On the platform, both Sylana and Rayne shook hands before taking ten steps away from one another and bringing up their hands to the ready. The crowd cheered them on while Konseral and Char took a step back and positioned themselves a good distance away from the fight. Roran came rushing through the crowd a second later and positioned himself next to Konseral but away from Char, dripping with sweat. Alex approached Buster’s group a second later but since there were no seats left, he remained standing.

Sylana took a very traditional Fiery Fist stance; fists clenched, one shoulder in front of the other, front foot bend forward with her knee in line with her elbow and tensed and straight. Her entire body was made to look like the starting rune for a good number of Fiery Fist techniques.

Rayne on the other hand took a more traditional boxer’s stance; feet together and bouncing on his toes while his fists were brought up close to his face, turned inward. No one in Class 989 had ever identified exactly what style of magical combat arts that Rayne used but his techniques brought fear to everyone. He remembered their first day of class when a boisterous classmate had challenged Rayne and had soundly been beaten and humiliated within thirty seconds.

On some unheard signal, the fight began.

Sylana was first to strike. The feisty Racoorin advanced, sweeping her back leg forward and upward in an arching, wide, high-kick. Flames thrust from her foot and lanced out at Rayne in a broad, scintillating, red wave. It wasn’t particularly fast and travelled high. A test attack. The Pinnacle professor easily ducked beneath the blow but missed the true purpose of the move.

“She’s good,” JD muttered.

“Huh?” Buster asked.

Then it became evident that the broad wave at eye-level was meant to conceal her follow up attack. Even though Rayne ducked beneath the wave, his vision was momentarily blocked by the encroaching flames. Sylana was right there in front of him to deliver the follow-up attack just as he cleared the blow. Using the momentum from her swinging blow, she hurled her fist forward.

“Fire Fist!” she cried to the cheer of the crowd. Her entire fist became encased in a large sphere of flame that she hurtled towards Rayne. Wood was already rising out of his feet to shout a warning.

Rayne, however, would not fall for such a trick. He fully threw himself into his duck, falling to the ground, tucking himself into a ball and rolling forward. Weighing in heavier than Sylana, he easily bowled her over even as her fist sailed fair over him. She toppled to the ground while Rayne easily sprang back to his feet, back to her.

“You still cry out the names of your attacks like a novice,” said the teacher. “Do you do that out of habit or because you still need it to focus exactly which techniques you use?”

Sylana spat on the ground and gave him a cocky smirk over her shoulder. “Do you chastise your students like this all the time? Does it make you feel powerful and superior to them?”

She sprang to her feet with cat-like reflexes. Her right fist shot forward, her entire body going into the move. A lance of flame launched from her knuckles and streaked forward straight towards Rayne’s head. As fast she was, Rayne had a keen intuition and spun in place before charging right into the fire, arms blocking the lance. He slammed right into her, wrapping his left arm around her neck and dragging her halfway across the ring before sending her slamming into the ground. Everyone in the crowd winced.

“I happen to be pretty damn good with Sign Combat,” said the teacher with a slight grin. “I know that with the Ars Ignea Pungo, you have the option of positioning your body into one of the four starting positions to help begin your spells and techniques. You can do a ‘trigger trick’ where you just launch an attack from that initial form without any additional signs made. Attacks are weak but damn flashy and lets you summon flames.”

He nodded towards his arms even as he pinned her to the ground with a hand to her neck. There were no burns against his flesh. “Those flames were weak. Well-formed and fancy-looking but not even that hot.” Just to irritate her, he gave her a sly wink. “You can’t assume I’m just an ordinary school teacher either.”

Rayne Noam pushed off the ground and took a few steps back. Sylana coughed now that her windpipe was released. Yet despite the discomfort she was in, she was clearly grinning.

“I suppose I shouldn’t,” laughed the Racoorin softly, her tail doing loops behind her in excitement. “And here I thought you’d play the ‘cool teacher’ trope and just avoid each of my attacks, showing off just how amazing you are while humiliating and further enraging me.”

“I was tempted…” he answered, a grin crawling onto his face. “But then I realised I want to have fun with this.” He beckoned for her to attack. “So less chatter. Give me all you’ve got.”

“Famous last words.”

Flames erupted from the heels of her boots, launching her straight at Rayne. The sudden move caught the human pugilist by surprise and he was lifted off the ground as they both collided in mid-air. Sylana got a few good punches to his flanks in before he kicked off the ground and vaulted right over her. He gave her a parting kick to the back of the head before somersaulting in the air and landing behind the racoon. The blow caused her to momentarily stagger but it wasn’t enough to make her fall over. There were short bursts from her heels once more as she quickly pivoted in place and launched herself at Rayne.

From the sidelines, Kane let out a soft grunt. “She is good. Going from Cast Style to Burst Style like that shows her range.”

Buster leaned forward so he could see the Ursus’ face more clearly. “What was that?”

Kane gave him a thumbs up, beaming in an adorable fashion. “Most Combat Sign arts consist of five major ways of fighting or ‘styles’. Cast Style is where you mainly focus on casting spells. Burst Style is more about quick but temporary increases in strength but still emphasise your own physical prowess.”

As if to prove his point, Sylana began throwing powerful kicks at Rayne which were augmented by the bursts of flame from her heels. The extra speed added to the speed and power of her blows, forcing Rayne block and retreat.

“Dang,” commented Wood. “I’ve never seen Rayne back off before.”

“But she’s still not doing any damage,” JD observed, his eyes narrowed on the battle. “Her blows as strong but Rayne is just being pushed back by inches. By the time he gets him halfway across the field, she’ll be utterly exhausted unless she has more Force than even the strongest Fiery Fist user.”

“And we all know that the Ars Ignea Pungo is very exhausting,” agreed Skye who had torn his eyes from his book to regard the fight.

Already showing signs of exhaustion, Sylana backed off a few steps before letting out a loud, primal shout. Searing, bright red flames wrapped around her fists and forearms. The bursts from her ankles also wreathed her feet and legs up to her knees.

“And there’s Aura Style,” Kane supplied. “Average Combat Sign users don’t specialise in more than two Styles. Impressive that she can use three.”

Skye shaded his eyes against the light of Chrysalis Core so that he could see her more clearly. “She can use all five.”

When Sylana next tried striking out, Rayne was forced to dodge. Though the impact from the initial kick or punch would be the same as the previous blows, the fiery limbs would burn his flesh with continuous contact. Seeing her advantage, Sylana shot forward, flames erupting from her heels. Rayne immediately launched into the air, leaping straight over her. Her grin indicated she had planned this. The agile, fiery racoon thrust her palms forward. Explosions of fire launched her right after Rayne and just as he reached the zenith of his leap, she collided with him. She curled her legs around his, trapping him in a burning grip and seized one of his arms. Fiery red chains erupted from her one free hand, wrapping around Rayne’s limbs and pinning them against his sides.

“And there’s Grapple Style,” Kane grunted. “Damn… That’s one feisty racoon.”

Sylana, flashing her fangs in triumph, swung Rayne through the air. The chain extended a good ten feet away from her and using flames from her heels to keep her aloft, she swung the chain – and Rayne – in broad circles three times before sending him crashing into the ground with an impact that brought silence to the ring.

The Racoorin landed smugly on the ground, grinning broadly to herself. “You shouldn’t underestimate me either, human.”

Wood broke the silence from the crowd. “Fuuuuuuuuck.”

A soft laugh came from the tiny crater that Rayne’s impact had made. “Human… Been a while since I’ve been called that.”

Sylana and the crowd were visibly perturbed. There was a loud metallic creaking and then a loud snapping noise. Shards of the fiery chains flew into the air. Rayne quickly and calmly got to his feet. As the dust settled around him, Sylana saw the extend of the damage she had done to him.

And it was nothing.

Absolutely no damage was done to Rayne Noam. Not a bruise. Not a cut. Not even a single singed strange of hair.

“What the…?” she gasped.

“I suppose I should tell you my secret of looking this good,” Rayne chuckled, placing his hands on his hips. “Ever heard of Vi Translatio?”

Sylana could only shake her head. Everyone else in the crowd did the same except for the Pinnacle students. They had all received this same lecture from Rayne and was basically the reason they could never beat him.

“It translates to Force Transferral.” Rayne lifted his forearm, showing her that she hadn’t done a scratch to him. “The fundamentals of it is that every attack you inflict upon me is executed through some form of Force Energy manipulation. You use Force when you throw your kicks and punches. You use Force to generate those flames. You used Force to conjure up those chains to hold me down. Vi Translatio allows me to absorb that Force energy into my own.”

“What!?” Sylana exclaimed in shock.

“Oh yeah. So basically none of your blows up to this point have done any damage to me. You’ve just been giving me power.” Rayne wrapped a hand against the back of his neck and stretched the muscles there, causing a few bones to crackle. “Admittedly impacts caused by the environment like me hitting the ground isn’t absorbed but you can with the extra Force Energy I have and my understanding of my own anatomy, with some rudimentary knowledge of Physiomancy, I can just repair any damage.”

Buster shook his head miserably. “It’s why we could never really beat him if we were ever unlucky enough to face off against him. The only guy that ever got close was Skye because he can manipulate Spirit Energy instead of Force and Rayne can’t absorb that.”

“But even I ran out of usable Spirit around me,” Skye agreed. “And I was not going to use any of my own Spirit Energy on a sparring match.”

Rayne arched his back and stretched his arms above his head. “So I figure you’ve expended about half of your Force stores right now. I’m completely unharmed and still at 100%. Well, maybe a little more. That last combo you threw at me was pretty damn impressive and had a lot to offer. How about we just call it a day and move to the next round, huh? I’d still like a tour of the place.”

Buster rolled his eyes.

He’s goading her. He knows she’ll fight harder now.

True to his theory, Sylana only brought up her fists again. “I’m not just going to give up!”

Rayne grinned broadly and again beckoned her to come at him. “If that’s what you want. I am feeling a little…” He licked his lips. “… hungry.”

“I’ll be more than you can chew!” Sylana roared. She threw her head back and let out a primal scream. Red flames erupted all around her, throwing her hair back wildly and setting every strand of her along her grew and black body standing. A wave of heat blasted from the ring, washing over the entire arena and causing everyone to immediately shield their eyes from the blistering light that emanated from her.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen,” Kane announced, “is Fusion Style.”