Early morning sunlight awoke Garder. He was still sprawled out on the white sand of the small tropical island, and he quickly discovered that he was sore all over from the fight with Kamsa. His back aching, he propped himself up and looked out to the ocean. Kamsa hadn’t left; she was now on the shoreline and watching the sunrise.

  “You’re awake…” she said without adverting her gaze. “I was just… watching the Earth’s sun rise…”

  “Yeah, I see,” Garder moaned as he got to his feet. “I can’t believe you woke up before me and didn’t, uh, do anything to me.”

  “Like attack you?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “That would be dishonorable.”

  “You’re a pretorian. What do you care about honor?”

  “We have honor,” she said sharply, and then looked at a handful of sand. “You may not agree with our practices, but we do rule over you.”

  “Not anymore you don’t. And from what I’ve seen, you’re all a bunch of jerks, for the lack of a better word. Nasty and brutish, really.”

  “Do I come off in such a way?”

  “Well, not you, no… You’re maybe the one exception.”

  “My mission was to destroy you and retrieve Jeryn. I am not sure why I am not attacking you… Perhaps it is merely the fact that it would indeed be meaningless at the moment.”

  “Wait—retrieve Jeryn? What are you talking about?”

  “You don’t know… It’s nothing. Never mind.”

  “Okay, so look… What do you want to do? I have a demirriage on me, but we have no way back to Aurra without the other claw.”

  “Maybe we should separate from one another. I could find my own way back. However, this world is very strange…”

  “Why’s that?”

  “It is alien to me. I have never been to it before.”

  Garder froze and struggled to reply, “What do you mean? Um… Are you a newsoul—and you… died when you were infant or something?”

  “No. I have never been to Earth before. I have only briefly seen the place called the Sahara when all of the pretorians met there.”

  “Right… I bet they treat you pretty badly. I mean, just looking at you, I can tell you’re the runt and the new girl. No offense.”

  “They treat me as they see fit. I do not require nor ask for respect.”

  “Then why put up with them? Aren’t there any of them that are, you know, nice to you?”

  “Perhaps… Sir Viveri. He often speaks with me cordially. He likes calling me a ‘chickpea.’ Do you know what a chickpea is?”

  “Um…” Garder suppressed a laugh. “Yeah, that sounds like the guy. You really don’t remember any of your previous Earth lives?”

  “I told you before. I have never been here,” she repeated clearly.

  “That isn’t possible. Maybe your memory has been tampered with.” Garder thought hard for a moment and added, “You look a lot like Queen Escellé, of Hold’s kingdom. Were you… Were you born there somehow?”

  “No. However, I am aware of Escellé.”

  “Then you were actually born in Aurra? Like a rairer? I didn’t think that was possible.”

  “I am not sure if it is. But I was not born. I was created.”

  “What?”

  Kamsa turned to face him, and in a serious yet flat tone of voice replied, “Sir Nolland, I am a clone of Queen Escellé.”

  “Oh, come on… A clone? You want me to believe that? I mean… I mean, look at you…”

  “Exactly.”

  The realization set in quickly. Garder’s mind scrambled through everything this could possibly mean. A clone? Created in Aurra? Of a watairre paradigm ruling over Hold’s hidden kingdom?

  “Why?” he finally managed to speak. “Why did… they create you?”

  “I was an experiment. I have predecessors, failures and prototypes. And I will likely have successors. It isn’t Escellé’s status they are interested in; it’s simply her might. She is a paradigm of the most powerful, non-exclusive alignment.”

  “Okay, so they’re trying to clone her. I won’t even bother asking about the whole process right now, but what is the point of all this?”

  “I believe they may be trying to copy a paradigm’s genetic structure and implant it into others. Even if those subjects can’t become paradigms themselves, they should, in theory, receive a significant boost in ability.”

  “You’re tagging along with pretorians as a… science project.”

  “As I have already told you.”

  “And how old are you? Let me guess; they’re using some kind of accelerated growth, aren’t they?”

  “Correct. I am five years old. I have the appearance of a young woman about your age. I have the intellect of a very well educated Aurrian. I have the abilities standard for a pretorian.”

  “And you’re just a clone…”

  “Yes. I have been fine tuned to act and speak in a very certain way. However, I can develop a personality over time. My brothers and sisters have been placed in cryostasis until my role is complete.”

  “How many more of you are there?”

  “No. No more. I should not even be telling you this information. It is supposed to be classified. I won’t tell you anything else.”

  “Know what I think? This is sick. If they have to make clones, they should do it somewhere on Earth. How many predecessors do you have?”

  “I should not divulge that information—”

  “Just tell me how many. Please.”

  “Two prior versions, or lines…” Kamsa sighed. “Forty total copies with slight alterations to each.”

  “God… And you’re the outcome of all that, huh? You’ll stick around I suppose until you’re no longer needed.”

  “If that is what they see fit for me, then—”

  “You don’t have to accept that! Look, I’m no genius, but I do see one implication of all this: you may not have a soul at all. It’s true that you certainly have a capable mind, but I don’t know if that’s the same as one’s spirit… Newsouls aren’t made on Aurra, so far as I know. And if they’re not using transfer devices… If they’re just pre-programing your brain…”

  “I have thought about this as well. But it does not perturb me. I know I am alive. I realize what feeling is. I am happy, sad, and sometimes angry. These emotions and their existence are important for the project.”

  “Yeah, and the rairer know they’re alive, too. But there’s no proof that when they die, they’ll be reborn on Earth. It’s no different for you.”

  Kamsa looked to the ground. “Is death really that frightening? To believe that there is nothing but eternal darkness you are unaware of?”

  “We always think it’s a possible outcome while on Earth. But when we realize that going to Aurra is natural, that it’s what really happens to everyone, the prospect of a total end does become frightening to some.”

  “But I know I exist.” Kamsa looked at her hand and moved her fingers. “I have memories. I have emotions, even if they are subtle. Earth is beautiful, and I am positive that I will pass through Hold like everyone else. I will be reborn here. Can newsouls truly not originate in Aurra?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have that answer. All that I know is that we begin everything—our entire line of lives, on Earth. If that is a universal requirement of some sort, then you simply aren’t natural.”

  “I see…”

  Garder almost felt bad about what he was telling her, and wanted to get off the subject. “But don’t you feel anything about being created as a weapon? That’s all they see you as. You don’t have any obligations to them. You weren’t raised in Aurra. You weren’t a kid who wanted to join the Guard so you could help rule over people. You owe them nothing.”

  “I was inducted as a pretorian a year ago. I am under their oath.”

  “But not under freewill. It was forced on you, Kamsa.”

  “I… do not understand.”

  “Then understand that the current batch of pretorians want to bend and twist Aurra into something ugly. They follow and protect a sick, corrupt individual. Surely you have no reason to agree with those views.”

  “I do not know. I have no opinion on their ideals. I only serve.”

  “I think you should fight back. Make them pay for creating you.”

  “I am not in a place to do so…”

  “Then I am,” Garder said defiantly. “I want to be stop them. What they’re doing to Aurrians is wrong, and my friends and I are in a position to fight them. If we’re not going anywhere, then perhaps you can train me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re a strong watairre. I was never good in alchemagi, but now that I have a second alchestone, I’m determined to activate it. But there isn’t anyone that can train me sufficiently. There are two in the Fragmented City, but time is distorted there, so… I’d be missing out on a lot of things.”

  “You wish for me, your enemy, to train you so that you can stand up against the Guard, whom I serve?”

  “Yeah. That some kind of problem?”

  “It sounds like aiding the enemy and committing treason.”

  “Do I really look like your enemy? Kamsa, I promise that if you help me, I can get you out of here. I can let you live a normal life. You won’t have to be used as a weapon anymore.”

  “Why do you care so much about me?”

  “I… Who knows? Is it bad that I don’t have a reason?”

  “Sir Nolland… I suppose… If it gives me a different viewpoint…”

  “Good. But could you call me Garder? I hate that formality crap.”

  “Very well. Firstly, a key talent for any watairre is the ability to dual cast. Because we can control the moisture in the air and the air itself, you must learn to manipulate both at the same time. Dual casting also permits us to rapidly freeze water, letting us use faster, more powerful ice spells.”

  “I can’t dual cast,” Garder admitted almost embarrassingly.

  “And why is that?”

  “I can’t cast anything with my left hand.”

  “Not even in the slightest?”

  “No. I’m sure you’re not used to it, but it’s a common problem for many Aurrians. It just means we have to put more effort into single spells.”

  “Can your sister dual cast?”

  “No—but she’s a vector; not really anything you can combine with atomized lines anyway. She’s left-handed, but also not ambidextrous.”

  “I see…”

  “Is all hope lost for me?” Garder asked jokingly.

  “No. We can overcome this impediment, but I am sure there will be more effort involved. What is important is maintaining a balance of water, air, and alchemagi exertion. Control all three, and you can manipulate air into jet streams and water into pushing you without breaking tension. You will never be as fast as I am if you cannot achieve perfect control.”

  “So where should we start?”

  “We can’t yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “I need you to promise something for me.”

  “What kind of promise?”

  “This may seem an odd request… It is true that I am helping you now, but I still owe my allegiance to the pretorians. Though I am conflicted, I do ask that you do not harm Sir Viveri.”

  “Why just him?”

  “He has shown me kindness. That may not be important to the others, or even Sir Viveri himself, but it is important to me. He has also shown the same kind of anger you exhibited concerning the idea of cloning in Aurra. I believe he may be the closest representation of how pretorians used to act and see themselves. He has a conscience and is his own person.”

  “Okay, I get it. I won’t harm that guy if I don’t have to. I probably couldn’t beat him in combat, anyway.”

  “Very well. Thank you. Now then… In order, please give me your Aurrian elemental alignments for all of your past lives.”

  “I’ve only had five. That’s, uh, considered young. This is my first one as a knight. I barely got in, mind you—my swordsmanship was what pushed me over the qualifying line. Anyway, they’re silver, silver, watairre, silver, and watairre again. Not a lot of variety, I know…”

  “I see. It may not be your fault that you have poor alchemagi ability. The more elements you’ve been bound with, the more attuned you become to the power. How talented is Milla in your alignment?”

  “More than me,” he muttered. “I’d say twice as good, if not more.”

  “You cannot do this until your second stone activates, but once you’ve learned to travel elementally, you are considered an expert adept.”

  “And air usually isn’t strong enough to sustain travel or flight, but water is easily traversed. Releasing your control over air moments before it hits allows it to maintain its power. With good control, water can form an unbreakable barrier… I know all of this. I did graduate. I’m just not that great at it. I can’t concentrate long or hard enough to accomplish much.”

  “It isn’t about concentrating. Every element is part of you, and unless you’re a silver, there is one that your body is nearly infused with. In our case, we have a natural, abundant source. Stop thinking so hard about it and just let it flow through your body, mix with your natural energy… then blend it with alchemagi, and release it through your fingertips.”

  “I do all that already,” he said angrily. “It’s just not good enough.”

  “Calm down. Show me your most powerful wind spell, on those… trees? Are those trees? Earth has such a wider abundance…”

  Garder turned and took aim at the clusters of palm trees alien to Kamsa. He raised two fingers, focused all of his energy, and then released it over a wide area. The palms barely swayed.

  Without saying anything, Kamsa followed up with the exact same spell: a simple gust of wind over the widest possible area. But her technique bent the palms temporarily out of shape with the strength of a hurricane.

  “Obviously, you’re a level three…” Garder grumbled.

  “Yes, but you should still be capable of much more. Why do you think it is that you cannot concentrate properly?”

  “I don’t know. Whenever I summon my alchemagi reserves, there’s always just so much of it. It’s something that has always bothered me this lifetime… It feels like an uncontrollable torrent in there.”

  “And your sister does not have this same problem?”

  “Actually… When we were kids, she did have difficulty performing more powerful spells she learned over her lifetimes. I know we have to rebalance every new life, but she never had to make such an effort, she told me. Could barely make a vector line for a while. Of course, she’s Milla, so she overcame it. Yet, she still says that she isn’t as capable as she could be.”

  “I see. I believe that you two may have higher, more concentrated energy reserves than normal. Perhaps a few levels below a typical paradigm. It is a natural, but rare occurrence.”

  “If that’s true, then I’m not sure I could ever control it properly.”

  “You can learn how to. I am a replica of a paradigm. I have undergone difficult, intense training to keep my reserves manageable, and less chaotic. I can train you in the same way.”

  “If you say so…” Garder sighed.

  He didn’t believe that she could teach him anything new, but after an hour of her version of the basics, he was beginning to feel a little more confident about his alchemagi control. His techniques weren’t at all better, but he knew that she was giving him a good place to begin. Her teachings were more personal, and far removed from the kind found in the academy.

  Neither knew how long they would actually be together. There was every chance that they could be stuck on Earth for a while, but so long as Garder had a demirriage, he didn’t really mind much. He was beginning to see Kamsa as an interesting person to be around if nothing else, and the longer he’d be free from Aurra’s problems, the better. But then again, the pretorians could warp in at any moment to take her away.

  She ended his control training after a few hours and shifted to close range air manipulation, an ability that included forming moving air around the user’s body, enabling the incredible speeds she was used to. He couldn’t quite get the hang of it, though the fairly easy jumping technique was easy for him. By condensing air under his feet and releasing it, he could propel himself about ten feet into the air. It was short compared to her sixty feet—but she also knew how to land softly from such a height, as well.

  They then went into some brief water manipulation; something he could do only at the most basic level. While Kamsa could summon up pillars of salty ocean and freeze them instantly, Garder could only form a few waves that were mostly indistinguishable from the nearby natural ones.

  After five hours of training, the two were equally exhausted. They rested in the sand by the water’s edge, but kept a few feet from each other.

  “You are improving,” Kamsa said. “Once you master control, new techniques come easily… And you are indeed improving.”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “I still don’t get why you’re doing this, though.”

  “You saved my life. I don’t know how much I should owe you, granted that we are enemies, but doing this feels like recompense, in a way.”

  “Do you know how they got Escellé’s DNA? She never comes out of Hold, and you can’t take things with you when you leave, so…”

  “No, I don’t. My earliest memory is of waking up in a laboratory. They… ‘grew’ me alongside many others. All boys and girls with the same silvery hair. Then the older ones disappeared one after another.”

  “I can’t even imagine…”

  A storm was blowing in from the east. Within the hour, the sky was overcast, and the wind had intensified.

  “This is perfect weather for one final lesson for today,” Kamsa explained and got to her feet. “Allow me to demonstrate. This is a technique that you should be able to perform.”

  He stood up and replied, “What is it?”

  “Hand me Sir Viveri’s sword, please…”

  He did so without hesitating. He saw her as something of a little sister by this point, and had begun to trust her despite her pretorian loyalty.

  “This is an elemental sword,” she said.

  “Yeah, I know that…”

  “Sir Viveri uses these to fire electrified projectiles, or summon a bolt that can cleave steel. In your case, however… Well, maybe I should let you go first.” She handed the sword back to him. “Put all of your energy into it, and swing it, sharply and quickly. Aim for the palms.”

  “Okay, but don’t expect much…” He took up a fighter stance and sent his flow of alchemagi into the blade. “So what words are needed?”

  “This is an alchemagi weapon. No words are required.”

  He shrugged and unleashed the stored power forward. The resulting damage was completely unexpected.

  He watched in shock as a visible arc shot out from his sword and sliced through the air with a high-pitched screech of cutting, compact wind. The arc slit the palm tree in half, and continued onward—cutting down several more before finally leaving nothing but a gash in the farthest palms.

  “Wow…” Garder breathed out, “I didn’t expect it to be so strong.”

  “Now allow me to show you the full potential,” Kamsa replied.

  He gave the sword back to her—and when she swung it, the result was devastation. The arc itself blew the surrounding air away violently, and proceeded to completely slice apart the grove of palm trees. The mighty attack was even accompanied by a sonic boom.

  “You can see just how strong this weapon is,” Kamsa said as she returned the blade. “I wouldn’t lose it.”

  “No kidding… How long until I can do something like that?”

  “You should only require proper control of your reserves.”

  “I see. Uh, thanks for training me. I don’t think I could’ve—”

  “Garder!” came a distant shout all of a sudden, just above the wind and waves. “Garder, is that you?”

  The two looked out towards the ocean. The small but unmistakable figure of Jeryn was calling out to him from a hole in the sky.

  “It seems that your friends have found you,” Kamsa said.

  Garder turned to her to see that she was summoning a spell.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I must leave. Please realize that if we meet again in the presence of other pretorians, I may be forced to attack you…”

  “Wait—” he protested, but Kamsa was already fading into the wind, using an elemental travel technique.

  “Goodbye,” she said simply before vanishing into the air.

  She must have slipped by Jeryn as faint particles without him noticing just seconds after. Garder then somehow felt completely alone.

  Realizing that he was being rescued, he snapped to his senses and headed towards Jeryn. He still couldn’t use the water itself to move, but his ice flows were coming a little more quickly, and he managed a good stride despite the stormy waves. Jeryn pulled him in when he got close—and he saw that Klayson was at his side, returning to his pocket a pair of claws.

  “Ah, he’s alive.” Klayson laughed. “You had us worried there, boy. Jeryn says a pretorian separated you. Mighty lucky to be alive, I’d say.”

  “I see you got your claws…” Garder panted. “What about Lontonkon’s place?”

  “Well, sometimes we just don’t get lucky,” Jeryn sighed.

  “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “It was completely empty. Still standing, sure, but it looked like it hadn’t been used in years. It was a small vacation palace. Not much to see.”

  “Wait—how’d you get inside in the first place?”

  “I resorted to getting as close as I could with the demirriage. It was only a little difficult getting past the walls, what with elemental travel and everything… I don’t think I could’ve carried you in, anyway.”

  Garder ignored the subtly demeaning comment and turned to Klayson. “How long have I been gone? And what’s it like in D?”

  “About twenty hours now. And the fighting’s long done. Core of the City’s in ruins, but it is ours as of now. I’ve been busy setting up a defense parameter. Of course, there’s been a lot more than that going on.”

  “Like what?”

  Klayson smiled. “Your friends showed up, practically one right after the other. That boy Verim came with Shin, a child, an older bearded man, and some captive that we’re supposed to interrogate. I didn’t get fully caught up yet as I was too worried about getting you to safety.”

  “Milla arrived by train with the first batch of evacuees,” Jeryn said. “D’s first three trains just left, with two others ready to pick up more.”

  “Both groups succeeded, huh…”

  “Seems so. Shin and Verim secured the child we were looking after, and Milla’s group even brought back a couple of new friends of their own.”

  “And I’m grateful that you two helped my men,” Klayson added.

  “Garder, mind sharing what happened?” Jeryn asked. “Neither of us expected you to survive alone against a pretorian. I was even considering going to N to find your new body meandering around the hospital.”

  Garder laughed lightly and replied, “I’ll tell you later… How about we go see our friends for the time being?”

  “Right. Here, take this—” he handed him the other claw, “—and don’t drop it again. I assume you have the mate?”

  “Yeah, I hung onto it.”

  “Good.”

  Jeryn formed the demirriage, and the three climbed in without a sound. Garder spent the brief trip imagining where Kamsa had fled to—and if he’d ever see her on his side again.

  Like Klayson had said, D was in shambles. The three groups had their small reunion in the dining hall of one of the more intact towers, and managed to be graced with restored power and a hot, but not filling dinner.

  With the new additions, “Rivia’s Army” had grown into a platoon that was now fourteen members strong—including Tanesh and Scud; sans Simon and any of the rebel officers they had met over their journeys.

  Everyone had stories to tell, but Garder kept silent through most of the discussions. Rayna practically insisted on sitting next to him, and became the one who chatted with him the most. He soon found out that the only reason she picked him was because she saw him in her dream—as the one who killed the demon. He chose to take it with modesty, repeatedly telling her that the task “wasn’t that hard,” or “Milla did most of the work.” And she still had plenty of questions about Aurra, as well.

  Jeryn and Garder didn’t have much to discuss on their side. They knew they hadn’t accomplished much, but they weren’t fully expected to to begin with. Jeryn still promised that he would continue the search for Lontonkon, whose trail had gone cold since their encounter outside City C.

  Milla knowing Garder best, she could tell that he was holding something back. And after Jeryn brought up their separation a third time, the question of just what had happened to him was becoming an object of curiosity at the table. But he didn’t know how much, if anything, he should share about his encounter and the training that followed.

  Rayna, stroking Tanesh on the head and feeding him scraps, was the one who finally got Garder to speak with a simple look on her face that conveyed just needing to know what had transpired. Even if she hardly knew what a pretorian was, the child was clearly starved for Aurrian stories.

  He finally spoke above a demanding silence, “Kamsa attacked me.”

  “Do you know why?” Klayson asked.

  Deciding not to mention the part about retrieving Jeryn, he replied, “She was ordered to kill me and to take the claws I held.”

  “But that would’ve been pointless, right?” Rayna asked in effort to seem like she understood everything about Aurra already. “Because you’d just go to that castle in that Hold place, right?”

  “Well, yes…”

  “And you didn’t… actually defeat her, did you?” Shin continued.

  “No. After I saved her from drowning, we stopped fighting.” After more looks of intrigue, Garder figured that he might as well come out with it. “Look… She’s a nice person. She helped train me in alchemagi.”

  “What?” Milla replied. “Why would a pretorian do that?”

  “You know I’m lousy with alchemagi. I asked to be trained… Well actually, she offered it to me. And I think I’ve gotten a little better…”

  “Garder, she’s your enemy. Have you forgotten that?”

  “Still, just… why?” Xavier asked. “Why’d she help you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she just isn’t as loyal as the others—”

  “Come on. That’s a lie,” Milla said sharply. “Just tell us the truth.”

  “Maybe they fell in love,” Verim suggested, almost seriously.

  Shin glared at him for a moment, and then passed it on to Garder. There was no escape for him now; the question had to be answered.

  “She’s a clone of Escellé!” Garder snapped. “They… they were making clones of her, to get her power or something. And she had all these predecessors, and I thought that was sick so I told her she should fight back or something. But she couldn’t, because of loyalty and some big oath, so she instead trained me. Maybe she wants me to do what she can’t. And then she fled when I was rescued…”

  No one knew where to begin. Instead of even starting to question the idea of cloning, Wendell was the first to reply with, “And did you share any secrets with her? Anything that might bring harm to the rebellion?”

  “It wasn’t like that…”

  “Don’t try to protect her, now. This is important.”

  “I’m not lying! I guess I just don’t see in black and white like all of you do. We’re supposed to have a greater perspective in Aurra, right? I don’t see every single one of them as my enemy! Is that so wrong?” Garder suddenly felt like going into a rant and continued, “And what do you care? You’re not even in the rebellion, Wendell! Technically, none of us are. God damn it, I’m sick of all this. I want change in Aurra, believe me. We all do. But… I don’t want to fight anymore. I hate it. It’s all so pointless…”

  Wendell seemingly ignored Garder’s tirade and replied calmly, “Do you know for certain why they’re cloning a paradigm?”

  “They’re probably trying to create some super army or something. Don’t you think that would make sense, based on what we’ve seen?”

  “Milla, Klayson, Verim and Shin—we should interrogate the man we captured immediately. I think I have a good idea of what’s going on.”

  “You do?” Milla replied. “It sounds like it’s urgent.”

  “It could very well be.”

  “Lucky you have three mind adepts with you. Probing should be easy,” Dak said. “Allow the two of us and Temki to accompany you.”

  “Of course. We may need Garder, as well. His contact with the pretorian might help us get information on this supposed super army.”

  “It sounds like he’s had a tough time,” Lechi replied. “Maybe you should just let him rest.”

  “Yes, he’s had quite a busy day with his new pretorian friend, just her and a tropical island,” Milla said harshly.

  Garder sunk into his chair some. It felt as if Milla was going to be the first, if perhaps only person to punish him in some way.

  “If only you could see her…” he mumbled. “And listen to her story… You might feel differently.”

  “Perhaps. But regardless, you made nice with one of the people trying to kill us. What do you think that could lead to? She could trick you into revealing secrets, or maneuver all of us into a trap. I know you think I’m being unfair to you, but I don’t think that you should wander off for a while, Garder. Stay with the main group from now on.”

  “Fine…” Garder murmured. “Whatever you say.”

  Milla was somewhat surprised that he didn’t try to fight back; maybe it had something to do with his strange behavior, apparent since he got off the island. She wanted to explain that the decision was made for his own protection, but right now he probably wouldn’t have believed it.

  The interrogation room was small, dark, and filled to capacity. All of the adults except for Xavier were present, with Garder keeping quiet in the corner. Temki was attempting to get inside the captive’s mind, but he was fighting the young paradigm with trained, strong resistance. Every time Temki tried to enter part of his mind, it was instantly blocked off, and if the captive had time to do so, he would give him a sneer afterwards.

  Their guest, one of the operators of the mobile hammer, was a stout man with greasy, messy hair and poorly aligned teeth. But as his job involved a full body uniform, none of his crew probably even knew what he looked like. He had a wild, high-pitched laugh that he let out frequently—and usually coupled it with a violent shaking of the chair he was pinned to.

  “I hate this guy,” Verim muttered loudly. “I’d give him something to knock him out, but then his small brain would go to sleep, too.”

  “I ain’t telling you guys nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing,” he chuckled. “Your brat ain’t crackin’ my noggin. He can try all he wants!”

  “I can barely even concentrate over his voice,” Temki explained.

  “Then maybe we should shut him up?” Wendell suggested and uncovered his arm. “A few smacks to the jaw, perhaps?”

  “I’ll bite yer knuckles off, ya fat old geezer.”

  “Maybe we should slice off a few body parts,” Verim suggested.

  “Ya can do whatever you want to me. I can take pain. And dying ain’t nothin’. I never talk. Never, never.”

  “No. You will tell me what you were doing out there, and why the academy was destroyed,” Wendell demanded. “Or we can have these three tear your mind apart if you’d like.”

  “Do what ya want. I ain’t afraid. I got a future. And none of ya do. Yer all goin’ to the prison City forever.”

  “Why do they always have to remind of us that…?” Verim sighed and took out a small bag of ground up root. “Here, I’ll calm him a bit.”

  “I ain’t taking yer drugs, boy. Get away from me!”

  “Shut up,” Verim growled.

  He forced the roots down his throat, then pinched his nose and clamped his jaw with a certain satisfaction. The operator struggled, but swallowed after a few seconds. After Verim let him go, he went into a brief rage before finally slowing down some and becoming manageable.

  “There. Try now,” Verim said.

  Dak, Kyler and Temki linked their minds and began probing the captive’s as a team. He still struggled some, but their job was made easier.

  “What do you know?” Klayson demanded. “Are you part of this new army Lontonkon is building? Why did you attack your own men?”

  Busy trying to keep the three out of his senses, he said nothing.

  “Jeryn, roast his insides,” Verim asked.

  “Verim, stop it. That’s not going to help us,” Shin protested. “You three—could you force him to talk? It might be easier for all of us.”

  “That’s what we’re trying to do,” Kyler replied.

  “This guy might not look like much…” Dak added. “But he’s a hardened soldier. I’m picking up much stronger than normal alchemagi reserves, as well…”

  “Speak,” Jeryn suddenly demanded angrily. “Speak, damn it! It’s only a matter of time before we get inside. Why prolong your suffering?”

  “Tell us what’s coming,” Klayson added. “Why is the Guard wiping out its weaker forces and military students? Why have they yet to lead any significant attacks? Where is the core of their armies hiding?”

  “Please,” Milla said. “Just tell us…”

  “You all have no idea what’s coming…” the captive muttered.

  “What?”

  “None of you do. Stupid little upstarts… You’re just in the way, that’s all. Annoying pests, the bunch of you…”

  “Just in the way?” Klayson repeated. “What do you mean?”

  “Ol’ Lontonkon’s been planning all his life…” He smiled wryly. “Just so happens that when he’s finally ready, Rivia decides now’s his time, too… Oh, yes, go out and fight my little followers. Bring down the evil Guard. Bring peace to Aurra. But it’s nothin’ like that, ya see. Guard hasn’t bothered ya none, ‘cause they don’t care about you. Not yet, at least. They got their own plans. You’ll see soon enough.”

  “And what about the pretorians?”

  “Ol’ king’s made something nice for you all… His boy Drides is a real monster to behold. Kill ya by looking at ya… But it gets so much better than just that. You just wait and see.”

  “Lontonkon is building a super army, then…” Jeryn replied. “Just as we feared. He’s been weeding out the weak, sharing forbidden, advanced alchemagi with the strong… and he’s making clones of paradigms.”

  “And the demon?” Garder wondered aloud.

  “Yes—what about the demon?” Shin asked.

  “Before, he wanted the claws. But now, he wants the demon itself. Wants some kid able to create the demon. The demon. He wants the demon. It’s all about the demon of Aurra…” he continued incoherently.

  “He’s not lying about any of this,” Temki murmured. “Everything I see tells me that he’s giving us the truth.”

  Garder stood from his seat and asked, “Project Renascence. What about that? What do you know?”

  “Never heard. Never heard of it. Never heard…”

  “Something’s wrong,” Dak noted. “He’s fading.”

  “The claws, the demon. King wants ‘em all. The demon of Aurra.”

  “He’s losing his mind,” Shin replied. “Wait—check his hands.”

  Milla knelt down and noticed something that everyone had missed. The captive had managed to free two of his fingers, and they were now pointing towards the floor steadily.

  “He’s using a technique!” she shouted. “Everyone back!”

  “No, wait,” Kyler interjected. “It’s not offensive. Whatever it is, it’s making his mind self-destruct from the inside out.”

  “What? How?” Garder replied. “Stop him, we still need this guy!”

  “It’s too late. I can’t control him anymore,” Temki said. “There’s… not much there anymore at all.”

  Verim demanded, “Milla, cut off his casting hand!”

  Milla hesitantly created a vector line and took aim, but before she could propel it forward, his head slumped over his chest, and he promptly disintegrated, with the rope and shackles hitting the floor.

  “Damn it…” Wendell grumbled. “We had his hands tied the entire time, but he managed to get them loose just enough.”

  “Only reason we were able to get in was due to his mind withering to nothing,” Dak explained. “I’ve never even heard of a spell like that. Not to mention how easily he was able to deflect us. Guy was a piece of work.”

  “And if he was the bottom of the new standard, I’d imagine that future prisoners aren’t going to make it any easier,” Shin added. “Still… we probably got about everything out of him that he knew.”

  “So, there really is a super army,” Garder sighed. “At least we know a few things… We’ve really got to protect Rayna, for one. And the Guard counterattack will come eventually, and it’ll probably be, well, strong.”

  “But we don’t know when it will happen,” Jeryn replied. “If we can find the source of all this aggression, then there may still be time to stop it.”

  “So, we continue our search for the king, right?”

  “I will. Alone. It’ll be easier this way.”

  “And you’re not going anywhere for a while,” Milla reminded. “And anyway, Garder, we could use you here. D is looking like it’s going to be our stronghold for the time being, so we might as well fortify it and manage the evacuees. We can’t keep civilians in the City core if we can help it.”

  “You said you were sick of the fighting,” Jeryn added. “Stay here and help people. You’ll still be doing plenty of good.”

  “But you’re really going alone?” Garder questioned. “What about Verim, being a tracker and all?”

  “I am going alone,” Jeryn repeated sharply. “Now give me the demirriage and the claws in case I have to travel on the other side.”

  Tired of being bossed around and already overwhelmed by the pace of the war, Garder muttered angrily as he handed them over.

  “How will we know when the situation’s changed?” Klayson asked.

  “I’ll monitor Guard movement. Maybe find Osk while I’m at it. Trust me—I’ll be back before the enemy arrives. At most, I need a month.”

  “A month?” Garder murmured. “An entire month in this place…”

  “Keep in touch if you can. We’re relying on you, Jeryn,” Milla said.

  “I’m sorry that none of you can come this time. I just think that my chances of finding Lontonkon are better if I work in the way I usually do.”

  “Are you leaving right away, then?”

  “I see no reason to spend further time here. Good luck, you guys.”

  With that, he left the room to find a source of light for the carriage.

  Hours later, after the group had been given their temporary new homes, Garder laid awake in an unfamiliar bed.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about Kamsa. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to spend time with her, or simply go after the people that created her. Either way, he did know that he wanted to continue his training. But there was only one person now that he saw as a suitable teacher.

  He knocked on Milla’s apartment door later in the night. She had been sleeping, as was obvious by the time it took for her to answer. She cracked it open, rubbed her tired eyes, and looked at him expressionlessly.

  “Um, Milla… I was wondering if you could help train me, in alchemagi. Maybe starting tomorrow.”

  “Would you be willing to take it seriously for once?”

  “That’s not a problem anymore. I think I’ve got a handle on it. Or at least I’m beginning to. So how about it?”

  “Does this have to do with Kamsa?” she asked with a yawn.

  “Well, yeah. And I don’t care about not seeing her again,” he lied. “But if I don’t keep at it, her training will just go to waste, anyway, so…”

  “It’s not a problem,” she assured him with a small smile. “I’ll be glad to. Be up early tomorrow, would you?”

  “Um, sure. I know you can only do so much for me, but something is better than nothing.”

  “I think I could at least get you to be competent in alchemagi.”

  “Okay. Um, that’s great. Early tomorrow. Got it.”

  “Good night, then.”

  “Yeah. See you.”

  She closed the door, leaving him in the hall alone. He suddenly realized how he was feeling: trapped. With no claws or demirriage, the freedom he had in the past felt stolen from him. He longed for his nice, simple apartment back in N, but at the same time, he was beginning to understand and accept that there really was no going back.

  If he was going to be part of a revolution, if not its losing battle, he didn’t want to see himself as the one not strong enough to help his friends.

  Drides sat in the king’s throne inside the man’s island palace—another home of Lontonkon’s that he rarely visited. Outside, the heavy rain lashed against the windows, while down below, the devouring waves carved away the rock spire keeping the twisted fortress elevated.

  He was displeased, and he made sure that his subordinates knew of it. Breen, covered from head to toe in thick, mechanized armor. Viveri, the arrogant swordsman who never knew when to shut up. Palar, the power-hungry maniac always trying to prove something. Kamsa, the sorry genetic experiment. And of course, Trinqit, the borderline crazed sociopath.

  He loathed them all to varying degrees; some more than others, but he hated them all with his own good reasons. He wanted Jeryn to return and replace any one of them, although it wasn’t one of his priorities.

  He may have been displeased, but it was hard to direct his anger at any specific individuals. After all, he had a failure on his hands, as well.

  “And you, Kamsa. How were you not able to succeed in your simple task?” he asked her calmly.

  “I… I killed Garder easily. However, it was on Earth. I am sorry that it took place where it would not be permanent. I… have no excuse.”

  “So, I’m sure that he’s telling Queen Escellé all about you at this very moment.”

  “I am sorry, Sir…”

  “We’re changing our plans. Let I evacuate. Let Rivia return to Aurra with his own army. He’d at least prove that he isn’t a coward.”

  “But Drides, orders were to—” Viveri began, but was quickly cut off to be lectured.

  “That old fool hasn’t shown himself since the Sahara. Lontonkon’s orders mean nothing to me if he doesn’t give them to me in person. We’ll let him have his fun with his so-called Guard Reborn legion. What nonsense, using brute force in Aurra, when a war here calls for the exact opposite.”

  “Then what do we do?” Trinqit asked. “You’re always talking about planning and precision, but it feels like all we do is wait.”

  “Yes, and again, we do nothing. We wait until Jeryn comes.”

  “But what if he doesn’t—”

  “He will. It’s only a matter of time. And then we can use him to secure Rayna. Once we have her… we have all the leverage we need.”

  “And are you actually going to hand her over to the king?”

  “I’d rather use her to make my own gains. Lontonkon barely trusts me as is. He knows that she’s the only chance he’s got to get rid of me. But for now, we will bide our time. We will wait and see how both parties act.”

  “Too bad about Wendell and his cat, huh?” Viveri said. “They’ll probably be wary of any other Watchers still out there, too.”

  “He fulfilled his purpose. My encounter with Rayna… told me everything I needed to know. There are thousands of animals and people alike that I can still tap into. Keeping an eye on our friends will be easy.”

  “I still can’t believe that you’re going up against the king himself, though… There was a time when pretorians served the ruler directly.”

  “Lontonkon disgusts me to no end. I would never serve under him or fulfill his ideals. I have devoted my life to changing Aurra in the way I wish to see it. And if any of you wish to back out… you know the penalty.”

  “The Fragmented place doesn’t seem so bad now, though,” Trinqit replied. “Since we—I mean I—lost control of that frozen City, it’s only a matter of time until that dimension is no more.”

  “That’s not exactly true, Jenera… And I could always find another plane—something worse than that dimension. Trust me.”

  “Wait, what do you mean that isn’t true?”

  “As long as the Original breathes, there will always be another world I can exploit. That is why I seek to destroy him. I want his power.”

  “Boss’s crazy ideas again…” Viveri muttered.

  “He does still exist. I will get to him, and then destroy whatever is left of him—or it. And you aren’t the people I need for the task.”

  “Then who are the ones you do need?”

  “They will find out soon enough. Go, do as you please. Monitor whomever you like, play with Lontonkon’s war toys, or just practice your excuses. I’ll call on you when your services are needed again.”

  Always unsure yet respective of their leader, the five pretorians parted ways, leaving Drides alone on a borrowed throne.

  He reached into one of his robe’s deep pockets and felt the small metal object located there—it was a barely perceivable ritual for good luck that he performed only when no one was looking.

  “Soon, my darling,” he murmured. “Soon. Be patient.”

  He took his hand back out, locked his mechanical eye patch shut so that it wouldn’t spring open and wake him, and then drifted off without moving a muscle. The darkness of the hall enveloped him, and he once again found the only solitude he ever managed to secure: a dreamless sleep.