[again, just to remind you guys, long chapter]
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[Volke's POV]
I sat at the edge of the island, staring out over the ocean as though I were at the end of the world. The moon reflected off the restless waters.
Waves splashed across the sands of the shore. Stars dotted the sky. Despitethe beauty of nature glittering all around me, I couldn't appreciate it.Sometimes it felt as though life were beating me into a role I didn't choose.
Did I have to become a gravekeeper? Was that my fate? Was fighting against it just making me unhappy? Should I give up and accept everything everyone expected of me? The booing and shouting of the crowd were tattooed in my memory, permanently inked.
I had waited for ten long years, keeping my head down, doing what I needed to during the day and reading at night. When the kids my age went out and played, I studied. When the kids my age made friends and contacts,I only ever interacted with Illia and Gravekeeper William. When other kids learned the trades of their family, I toiled at a profession everyone scorned.
I had nothing but my dream to become an arcanist. And now it was gone.
"Volke."
I didn't need to turn around. I would recognize Illia's voice no matter the circumstance.
But I couldn't bring myself to face her, not even when she took a seat next to me, her legs dangling over the ocean.
The edge of the rock made for a perfect balcony overlooking the waves. It was why I came to this spot—to clear my thoughts with the white noise of the ocean all around me.
Illia leaned close, trying to meet my gaze, but I turned away. I already knew what she was going to say. I told you so. If I was lucky, she would gloat for a few minutes, get it all off her chest, and then leave me with my thoughts. But I wasn't lucky, so I braced myself for a long tirade about my actions.
Illia placed a hand on my knee. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.
Her pity hurt more than gloating.
"Don't," I growled. But I couldn't bring myself to push away her hand.
"Just… tell me I was being foolish. Tell me I acted like an idiot. Tell me…it was silly to think I could ever become someone I wasn't."
"You weren't foolish," Illia said. Then she smacked my knee.
"But you're being foolish now!"
Shocked, I turned to face her. Illia stared at me with a hard expression.She had mastered a half-sympathetic, half-scolding glare, staring up at me through her eyelashes, her eyebrows set low.Although she typically hid her scarred face, she didn't move when the wind caught her hair. The scarring only added to the seriousness of her expression and her words. I glanced away from the long knife cuts,blocking out the emphatic pain as I forced myself not to imagine what it must have been like to lose an eye to pirates.
"How am I being foolish right now?" I asked.
"Moping around. Blaming yourself for everything that happened. You need to pick yourself up and try again."
"Ha," I said with a huff. "Right. Atty and Zaxis already bonded with the phoenixes. Or are you saying I should wait another ten years just so I can get chased from town a second time? Sorry, Illia. I'm not interested."
It wouldn't matter. Tradition stated only those coming of age could prove their worth to a phoenix. Men and women under the age of twenty or so. Sure, maybe I could run through the arch again, but would the phoenixes even listen to a man who failed so hard the last Day of the Phoenixes? I doubted it. Plus, I was certain no one would ever forget about my past ever again. I would forever be known as the son of criminals. The heart of a villain beat in my chest, apparently.
Illia crossed her arms. "So that's it? You're gonna give up and stay a gravedigger your whole life?"
"What else am I going to do?"
"Become an arcanist, of course."
I genuinely laughed for a moment before letting out a long sigh. "If only it were that easy."
"It can be. If you want it enough."
"Uh-huh. I'm not five. Reality works a little different."
"I'm being serious."
"Look," I said. "If you're playing games to cheer me up, it's not working. Just leave me alone."
Illia scooted closer to me. Then she glanced over her shoulder, her gaze drifting across the evening terrain. Everyone in Ruma went to bed with the sun, leaving the island still and quiet. The streetlamps remained lit, and the cloudless night provided plenty of moonlight, but there was no one to see or greet.
"I wasn't at the trial ceremony because I was busy," Illia whispered. She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out three pieces of paper. "I told you I had a plan to become an arcanist, remember?"
I lifted an eyebrow. "Are you going to tell me now?"
"Well, while the whole town was out to watch trials, I snuck into the schoolmaster's quarters and stole this." She handed over the paper, a sly smile on her face.
"Why?"
"I overheard the schoolmaster talking to some of the fishermen about that ship that went missing a few weeks ago. Apparently they found it crashed in the Endless Mire. Some of the fishermen even said they saw mystical creatures around the wreckage."
I took the paper.
"And what is this?"
"It's all the reports from the fishermen."
With the moon as my light, I sat up straight and read the paper, confirming Illia was correct. No one knew what the missing boat had been transporting, but apparently it had been magical supplies and creatures. The fishermen had reported numerous sightings of odd creatures using magic,though none of them had many details. One thought he saw a white squirrel,another thought he saw a unicorn, and the last said there was a swamp creature in the mire, watching him go about his business.
Mystical creatures, no matter the type, were intelligent and capable of speech, even if they were shaped as beasts. Why would three of them live on the outskirts of society? Why didn't they try to reach town after the shipwreck? Maybe they were hurt or they didn't know the area well enough to travel.
Or perhaps they were still young. Mystical creatures who had yet to bond typically stayed child-like forever—the magic they gained from an arcanist their only way to mature.
Why hadn't anyone gone to rescue them?
"Schoolmaster Tyms wrote the mainland," Illia said. "He's asked an arcanist to come collect the creatures."
"Why? What if he convinced one to bond with him? The nhe could become an arcanist."
And there were no traditions on the island about bonding with random creatures, only phoenixes."
"Didn't you finish reading the fishermen's report?" Illia asked as she jabbed the paper. "Look. One said he was attacked with magic when theytried to get their boats close. Apparently the mystical creatures are confused and lashing out. Well, the fishermen didn't say that, but I'm pretty sure that's what's happening.
"Attacked? That didn't sound good."
"I bet you Tyms didn't go out there because he's too scared and doesn't want to look weak in front of everyone on the island. He's the magic expert, after all. Can you imagine him trying to bond with something and then getting rejected? He would be a laughingstock. No one would go to his lectures."
The upsides of becoming an arcanist were so many I was surprised anyone would pass it up. Then again, fighting a mystical creature was dangerous. They had powerful magic, and Tyms didn't.
"Why do you think we'll be able to approach the creatures?" I asked.
Illia tapped the side of her head with her pointer finger. "I think anyone with the moxie to barge into the trial ceremonies has the guts to face a few disgruntled creatures."
"What about you?"
She smiled. "I think anyone with the moxie to break into the schoolmaster's quarters also has the guts to face a few disgruntled creatures."
I was almost at a loss for words as I ran an unsteady hand through my black hair.
"Illia… how did you even find out about these fisherman reports?"
"I snoop around," she said. "And Tyms was talking about it to one of his assistants. He thinks he can get a reward from arcanists on the mainland if he manages to help them collect the missing mystical creatures. He'll probably ask the arcanist to give him something to bond with. Something docile—something he can handle."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Hm. Maybe a griffon or something."
"A griffon would never bond with someone like Tyms."
We both shared a laugh as a large wave crashed against the rocks below us.
What kind of creatures were in the Endless Mire? The magical power of an arcanist was determined by the mystical creature they bonded to. The more powerful their eldrin, the more powerful the arcanist. Phoenixes and griffons were things of legend, and the magic they provided their arcanist was on a higher scale than those who bonded with weaker creatures, like fairies or will-o-wisps. A phoenix arcanist could create a firestorm worth of flame, while a will-o-wisp arcanist could create a campfire at most. Illia and I could go out and find a random white squirrel in the wilderness, but the creature likely wouldn't be anything powerful. A weak arcanist was still an arcanist, though. Better than becoming a gravedigger.
"Volke, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity," Illia said. "The boat from the mainland comes in two days, and you know it'll be carrying an arcanist looking to collect those creatures. We have to act now if we're going to have a chance."
I nodded along with her words. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Ruma didn't have any mystical creatures on it other than phoenixes.
"When should we leave?" I asked.
"Before sunrise. While everyone is sleeping off the celebrations." She smiled. "Hey, once we become arcanists we'll get to leave the island, just like Atty and Zaxis. Doesn't that excite you?"
"Yeah."
"We'll be just like Gregory Ruma! Just think about it. Traveling the world, helping people, discovering new lands—it'll be an adventure."
Again, I nodded. She was right. We couldn't pass up this opportunity, and we couldn't dawdle. I would become an arcanist one way or another, even if it meant a risky trek into the mire to confront random, and potentially agitated, mystical creatures.
Illia jumped to her feet and held out her hand. I took it and stood, my whole body shaking. I couldn't stop thinking about our new plan. We could do this.
"Thank you for this," I said as I handed Illia back the paper.
She jogged toward the cottage, a bright smile on her face. "What would you do without me?"
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.[my POV]
I am currently talking to a weasel.
well, it's not really a weasel, it's a Rizzel.
A very rare mythical creature.
"and that's how you cook fish to make it grilled fish." I just finished saying.
we were near the edge of the mire on a tree branch, just chatting.
"interesting...I will have to try that sometime." the Rizzel responded.
and we continue our chat about cooking fish.
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[Volke's POV]
Gravekeeper William had once been a naval officer, and he ran our cottage like it was one of the many boats he used to command. The place was clean from stern to bow, right down to the grain of wood. He kept all the doors and cupboards securely closed, like he was afraid of the cottage taking a tumble through the ocean.
Everything had a place and everything in its place—that was his motto.
And that, along with William's obsessive need to keep an exact schedule, made it difficult to get away with anything.
Illia and I packed a few things for our trek in silence. The far southern end of the island was known as the Endless Mire for its swamp-like waters,mud, and vegetation. I didn't have much to pack, so I took it all, but I worried about not having the right tools for our travels. My boots had holes in them, and Illia's socks were unraveling. Trudging through the Endless Mire would result in us being soaked to the core in a matter of moments.With my sack of clothes in hand, I stepped out of my tiny room and into the hall. The floorboards creaked. I held still, silently cursing myself. If he heard us, William would surely wake and stop us from heading out simply because the Endless Mire wasn't the safest location on the island. He wasn't the kind of man who appreciated unnecessary risks.
His room was at the other end of the hall, cold and dark. Nothing stirred, no matter how long I waited. After another thirty seconds, I continued to the staircase. Illia stood at the bottom, a satchel slung over her shoulder, a candle in her other hand. I walked downstairs, skipping a step I knew would squeak, and met her with a smile.
She motioned to the front door, but as I went to grab the handle, I heard a loud and gruff, "Ahem."
My shoulders bunched at my neck. I already knew. There was no need to turn around, just a terrible sense of dread at the impending conversation.
What could I say to William that would convince him I needed to go?
"Thought I wouldn't notice, didn't ya?"
Illia whirled around, her candle held high. "We're both adults according to the island rules." She straightened her posture. "We can come and go as we please without your permission."
"If you really thought that, why're you sneaking around?"
William stepped from the darkness of the kitchen door into the flickering light of the candle. I was six feet tall, one of the tallest people around, but he stood a good six inches above me. In truth, everything about him was larger than life—protruding gut, thick arms, tree trunk legs. He kept his face clean, though. A habit from his time as a naval officer.
"You don't understand," Illia said as she smoothed the hair over the right side of her face, hiding all her twisted blemishes. "We need to leave. Volke and I don't want to be—"
"Enough," he said.
Illia stopped herself cold.
Then William exhaled. "Come 'ere you two."
We moved away from the door. My heart beat hard against my ribs. If William tried to keep us here, what would I do? Would I fight him, the man who cared for me the last ten years? Would I give in and stay his apprentice? My whole being wanted to run from the cottage and head straight for my destiny, but honor told me I should at least hear him out.
William patted his gut. "It may not look it, but I was once a young man too. I know what it's like to get in trouble, but runnin' away isn't gonna solve anything."
"We're not running away," Illia immediately replied.
"Uh-huh. Well, whatever you're doin', I wouldn't recommend strollin' through town. Everyone on this island is damn upset. I've heard an earful of it."
"It's not Volke's fault! He didn't deserve any of that treatment during the ceremony. He's never committed a crime! All he's done is study to become—"
"I know that," William snapped. After a deep inhale, he continued at a calmer tone. "I've watched you two for years: Volke studying, you snooping around. But listen now, while I quietly hoped you two would catch a breeze of good luck, the fact is that reality's harsh. You've made enemies of the Ren and Trixibelle families. All of them."
I gritted my teeth and nodded along. He was right. They probably considered me tantamount to a thief for trying to take a phoenix from Zaxis or Atty.
"And I'm your caretaker. I'm sure I'll hear about it for years to come."
"I'm sorry," I forced myself to say.
"Hush, boy. I'm not done."
I met his gaze, confused by his attitude. There wasn't much heat in his words, and he spoke almost with an apologetic tone.
William placed his large hands on his hips. "Your actions have consequences. Not just for you, but everyone else."
"Yes, sir," I said.Illia nodded. "I understand."
"But that doesn't mean I want either of you to give up," William said.
I caught my breath.
"What?"
"Every parent wants a better life for their kids. No one wants to be a gravekeeper—even I didn't start this way. I lived a life on the oceans, fighting sea monsters with the good ol' boys. I contributed to the world, even if I wasn't as amazing as an arcanist. You kids need that, too. A chance to do what you're destined to do."
The words sunk into my mind, but all I could picture was my father. Did he want a better life for me? Then why did he kill that other man in cold blood? But that didn't matter. I wasn't my father. His actions were his own.
Then another part of William's speech finally hit me. He considered himself a parent? To me? Even though everyone on the island hated my existence?
Illia stepped forward and smiled. She threw her arms around William's wide gut. I stood awkwardly off to the side, shifting my weight from one foot to the other until William grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me into the group embrace.
"Thank you," Illia said, her voice strained. "You've always been like a father."
William patted us both on the back. "Calm down, lass. It's not like you two are disappearing anytime soon. We've still got plenty of time to find some way for you to live out your destiny."
My heart sank, and I bit back my words. Should we tell him about the Endless Mire? Perhaps he wouldn't worry about us now that we were adults. I opened my mouth to explain, but Illia shot me a glance.
Don't , she mouthed, so I faked a cough and rubbed at the back of my neck as I broke away from the hug.
She was probably right. William wouldn't be pleased with us running around the mire, and we couldn't afford to squander this opportunity. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission—at least in this situation.
"You don't mind that we're going to leave?" Illia asked.
William let go of her. Then he sighed. "I think you'll be fine. But I do worry about you, especially in these dark times."
Illia and I exchanged questioning glances."Dark times?" she asked. "Everything is peaceful here."
"Aye. On the Isle of Ruma." William stared at the floor, the shadows flicking over his face, hiding his emotions. "Sometimes I feel like this island is trapped in a bubble of time. So quiet and peaceful. But you two need to look out. There's an occult plague sweeping across the lands, killing people and twisting magic into something vile. Ruma's never seen it, thank the heavens, but I remember dealing with it back in the day."
I had heard of a plague from the whispering seamen who stopped at the docks, but I never had the time to investigate their stories. Plus, the Isle of Ruma was separated from everything else, so it never mattered.
An occult plague? What did it do? How was it spreading?
"Arcanists can handle a plague," Illia said matter-of-factly.
"Don't be so cocky, lass," William said as he turned his gaze back to us."That plague has taken its toll on apprentice and master arcanists alike. It'll destroy everything, given the chance."
I nodded. Arcanists were heroes and protectors. They used their magic to make the world a better place. Well, in theory. There were also pirate arcanists in the world and arcanists who never amounted to anything. Not all of them could be heroes, but I liked to imagine they could be.
My chest tightened, and I squared my shoulders.
That was how I would prove the world wrong about me. I would save them. I would fight whatever plague or pirate came for them. I would show them all I had the soul of a knight and not a criminal.
William motioned to the staircase. "You two get some sleep. I know things seem bleak right now, but everything will look better in the morning. I'll have a talk with that blowhard Tyms."
"Really?" Illia smiled, but I knew she didn't feel it.
It was her fake smile. Something she wore to trick people into thinking she was excited.
But William didn't seem to notice. "There are other Trials of Worth on other islands. Or maybe there's a ceremony on the mainland. We'll have to see. Perhaps you two can prove yourselves to some mystical creatures yet."
"That sounds amazing. Right, Volke?"
I forced a nod. "It sounds like a good plan."
We gave William our best good nights and then headed up the stairs. He walked into the kitchen and lit the fire for the stove, no doubt preparing to make himself breakfast before the sunrise.
The moment he was out of sight, Illia grabbed my arm and rushed me to her room. Although I complained about getting stuck with a storage room, Illia didn't have it much better. She had a bed and a trunk, but every wall was lined with William's bookshelves. It was the only place he had to store his books. Fortunately, Illia didn't mind living with leather-bound brothers and sisters.
She took me to the far wall and opened the window.
"C'mon. We need to leave before he goes outside."
The sizzling of fats on a skillet echoed throughout the cottage. William would never allow us to slink out of town. We either went now, while he was distracted, or not at all.
"Okay," I said. "Let's go."
Illia slid over the sill and onto the woodshed just below her window.
Then she scooted to the edge and hopped down to the ground. Once she had dusted herself off, she glanced up and motioned for me to follow.
I stepped over the sill, slid down the roof of the woodshed, and leapt down to the ground, my legs buckling once I hit. I had forgotten how sore I was from running straight up the Pillar. It took me a second of sucking in air to regain feeling from the knees down.
Illia stifled a laugh. "Can you walk?"
"Of course," I snapped as I forced myself to stand, even though it burned. It burned so bad. But I didn't want her to see that. I was an adult now. I had to act like it.
"Good," she said. "Because we should hurry."
Illia made her way south as the sky shifted from black to purplish-blue,the sun waking from its long rest.
Before I chased after her, I turned to the woodshed and searched for William's axe. I couldn't find it, though—William always put it back in its place, of course—but I did spot his shovel. It had a sharpened point so I took that instead. Although I didn't know how to wield a weapon, I wanted something, just in case things went poorly.With the shovel in hand, I jogged after Illia. She waited for me across the cobblestone road, her one visible eyebrow raised. "A shovel?" "Preparation," I said. "Without it, we leave our fate to chance."
Illia rolled her eye. "I hate it when you quote that damn Pillar."
"Those are the values all arcanists should strive for."
"Maybe I want to make my own values. I certainly don't need acenturies-old staircase to do it for me."
"But those steps have good advice."
"Urg." Illia motioned to the road with an angry wave of her hand.
"Forget it. C'mon."
We continued without any more words between us. We had to skirt around town to make it to our destination. The quiet roads of Ruma made for quick and pleasant travel, and soon the anxiety of getting caught left me.
Who would stop us now?
"Hey!" someone barked. "Where do you think you two are goin'?"
Illia and I froze.
A terrible chill ran from my head to my feet. If we told anyone where we were going, Tyms would have us publicly punished, perhaps even branded. That was what had happened to my mother. She got caught stealing, and a brand was burned into her wrist to forever mark her as a criminal. Would Tyms do it to a pair of troublemakers? I wouldn't put it past him.
"You two look like you're sneaking off somewhere. Admit it."
I recognized the nasally whine of the voice.
Lyell Ren. Zaxis's younger brother.
I turned around, holding back a sneer.
Lyell sauntered out from the darkness between two buildings, his hands in the pockets of his tailored trousers. He had recently turned thirteen, but
he looked a few years older due to his height and wiry frame. His oily red hair, thin and tied back, didn't help his odd appearance. Puberty had hit him like a tsunami and he was still trying to recover.
"Mind your own business," Illia said. "Gravekeeper William knows we're out and that's all that matters."
I motioned to the dank alley he had slithered out of. "What're you doing out at this hour?"
He didn't even need to answer. I spotted some chalk coating the knees of his pants. He had been vandalizing the buildings with his terrible graffiti—a delinquent activity everyone always assumed I was responsible for.
He huffed. "I'm out for a walk."
"Shouldn't you be celebrating with your brother?"
"Ugh," Lyell said with a groan. "He's more insufferable than ever now that he has his stupid phoenix."
Even Lyell disliked Zaxis? The information almost got me laughing.
Since we were the same age, Zaxis and I often ran into each other. He loved flaunting all his good fortune and reminding me gravediggers had to handle corpses. If a drop of water disappeared every time he spoke down to me, we'd all be living in a desert.
At least I wasn't the only one who found him irritating.
Illia grabbed my elbow and turned back toward our path. "It's best to just ignore him, Volke. C'mon. Let's go."
"Where are you two off to?" Lyell asked.
"Like I said, it's none of your business."
"Well, if you won't tell me, maybe I should go inform Tyms you're up to your usual suspicious activity."
I dug my heels into the cobblestone and came to a halt. I was certain Tyms wanted me dead after what I did during the Day of Phoenixes, and that meant he would take every opportunity to make my life a living nightmare, even if I never admitted my intentions. Illia must have felt the same way because she turned to me, her one eye searching my gaze, a frown on her face.
"We're going to the Endless Mire," I said without glancing back at Lyell. "William wants us to gather a few herbs and we're going to camp at the edge." I hefted my sack and shovel to emphasize my impromptu story.
Lyell snorted. "Oh. So, you're tucking your tail and running, huh? Don't want to face anyone after that embarrassing stunt you pulled at the ceremony?"
I gritted my teeth and said nothing. He could believe whatever he wanted to believe, so long as he left me alone.
"Let's just go," Illia muttered as she tugged my elbow again. "We don't owe him any more explanations."
We turned away and continued out of the city proper, following the roads until they transformed from cobblestone to dirt. I glanced over my shoulder, surprised to see Lyell trailing behind us, his hands still in his pockets. If I yelled, he would cause a fuss, and if I broke his nose, everyone in town would only take it as evidence of my deep-seated violent nature. So I kept my mouth shut and silently hoped Lyell would just grow bored and leave.
The rhythmic song of the ocean soothed my irritation. William said currents were the lifeblood of the world and that the waves were the pumping of nature's blood. Such intriguing images fueled my imagination as a child. I fell in love with the beach. Even the endless cries of the gulls put me at ease.The sun rose, breaking the last of the darkness. Although yesterday had been everything I feared, the glow of a new day reassured me. I could still become an arcanist. I could still prove myself.
"My father says gravediggers are the ones who make coffins," Lyell said. "Or does the gravekeeper do that?"
He was closer to us than before. The grate of his voice brought back all of my frustrations.
"That's right," Illia said.
"What of it?"
"Well, is it hard?"
"No."
"Doesn't blood get all over the wood?"Illia glanced over her shoulder and huffed. "Corpses don't bleed. Gravekeeper William measures out the body, Volke cuts the wood to match the measurements, and I affix the hinges and carve in all the decorations. It's not complicated."
Lyell jogged to our side and crossed his arms tight over his chest. "You shouldn't take that tone with me. I'm going to become a phoenix arcanist one day, just like Zaxis. Plus, if you're nice to me now, maybe I'll let you accompany me to the mainland as my handmaiden."
"You aren't going to bond with a phoenix," I said. "In ten years, you'll be twenty-three. Too old for the ceremony then. Tyms had the chance to advance you, even though you're a little young, but he skipped over you because he liked Zaxis better."
I didn't need to add that last sentence, but it was true.Lyell huffed and mumbled something under his breath. I ignored him and picked up my pace. The Endless Mire wasn't far and I figured Lyell would leave once we reached the soggy wetlands.
The sun continued rising into the sky, half-hidden by fluffy white clouds. Although I enjoyed the patches of shade, the clouds could always shift from pleasant to malicious, blackening in a matter of moments and threatening us with rain. I kept my eye on them, but it wasn't like I could do much if the weather decided my trek needed to be even more difficult.
Then we came to the edge of the Endless Mire and stopped to look around.
Red mangrove trees filled the area with their bright scarlet trunks and vibrant jade leaves. Their roots branched out above the ground, creating a tent of tangled wood before disappearing beneath the murky water.
Although the ocean waters were clear enough to see ten feet down without problem, the Endless Mire reminded me of mud. Bugs scuttled across the surface, toads hid themselves in the grime, and snakes dangled from the red branches of the mangrove trees.
"This place is disgusting," Lyell said as he wrinkled his nose.
Illia sighed. "Leave, then. We didn't ask you to follow us."
"Uh, I'm probably more educated than the two of you combined, thank you very much."
Lyell smiled as he walked around us. "I've studied with Tyms for six years now. If anyone can identify herbs, it's me."
"We don't need help from a child."
Lyell shot Illia a glare. "Ya know, someone with a face as ugly as yours shouldn't be so rude."
Although her hair was already covering the scars, Illia quickly slid a trembling hand over her face.
I grabbed Lyell by the collar of his shirt and jerked him close. "What in the name of the abyssal hells is your problem?" I growled.
"What?" he said. "She started it." He ripped himself from my grasp and brushed himself off. "My father says the same thing. If Illia had been nicer when she came to Ruma, maybe someone else besides the gravekeeper would've taken her as an apprentice. But nope. She was ill-mannered and disgusting."
" Lyell." My fingernails dug into my palms, and I gave serious thought to smacking Lyell across the face with William's shovel. But then I took a few calming breaths and remembered the steps of the Pillar. "Didn't you say you studied with Tyms for six years?"
"That's right," Lyell answered matter-of-factly.
"Do you know what the tenth step up the Pillar says?"
"Ugh. Even you want to give me lessons?" He stared up into the green leaves of the mangrove trees. "Fine. It's respect. Without it, we make fast enemies of our acquaintances."
"And what about the thirty-seventh step?"
"Compassion. Without it, we make the world a crueler place."
I rolled my hand, hoping he would put one and two together. Lyell stared at me for a moment, narrowing his eyes until he finally snorted back a laugh.
"You're not clever enough to understand what those steps mean," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"What about step fifty? Honesty.Without it, we cannot learn the truth about ourselves. I was just being honest , Volke. That's what arcanists do. They tell the truth, even when it hurts."
Illia turned away, her hand never leaving her face. "It doesn't matter," she whispered to me. "Let's just get into the mire. Lyell isn't worth our time." She leapt up onto the red roots of the mangrove trees and walked across their sturdy tangles to avoid getting her boots wet.
I had known Illia for close to a decade. Maybe she was ill-mannered as a child, but her family had been killed by pirates just weeks before her arrival in Ruma. Of course she had been upset. And the scars… She always clung to the shadows, just out of sight, snooping around the island and listening in on conversations that no one would have with an ugly little girl.
I stepped onto the first root, but Lyell held me back.
"Wait," he said. "I didn't know you two were going deep into the mire."
"That's where the best herbs are," I said with a false apologetic tone.Why had he followed us to begin with? Didn't he have somewhere else to be? Anywhere else? What I would've given for him to go back home.
"Ah!
"Both Lyell and I snapped our attention to Illia. She slipped and fell into the knee-deep waters of the mire, her one eye wide and fixed to the branches above her.
I threw down my sack of clothes. "Illia?" I trudged through the mud until I reached her side.
"Look!" She pointed.
I glanced up. A bright white creature sat perched on a crimson branch, sticking out like snow in the dead of summer. It wasn't a squirrel—it appeared more like a ferret—with brilliant blue eyes and silver stripes down its back. Illia got to her feet, her dress half-covered in brown grime.
"Is that a mystical creature?" Lyell asked as he walked over. Well, he wasn't really walking. He lifted his leg high with each step, making sure his foot came out of the thick water before moving forward. At one point his boot got sucked off his foot, and he struggled to find it with a sneer on his face. "I can't believe it. A mystical creature here, of all places?"
"Hello," Illia called up to the white ferret. "My name is Illia. What's yours?"
The tiny creature, no bigger than my forearm, tilted its head from side to side. At first, I didn't think it would respond. Then it rubbed at its face like only rodents could and replied, "Are human parents trying to kill off their children through negligence nowadays? You three really shouldn't be here unsupervised. Right, Micheal?"
Although he spoke with an air of sophistication, his squeaky little voice made it hard to take anything he had to say seriously. I stifled a laugh. then I wondered who he was talking to.
I didn't wonder for long.
I suddenly noticed a man sitting on a tree branch next to the creature. He looked tall, even without sitting up. Taller then me. He has Black hair down past his shoulders, and red eyes that look like a crimson night sky.
Then he spoke.
"your right as always Nicholin, But these people look more like adults to me. Let's hear what they have to say."
His voice sounded carefree but with a constant sense of pride.
"Volke and I are adults," Illia said. "But not Lyell. He was just going home. Right, Lyell?"
"What?" Lyell said once he reached us. "Why would I go home now? Do you see that? It's a mystical creature! In the flesh!"
"Yeah. Maybe you should hurry home and report it to your father."
"What? N-no!" He straightened himself and then glanced up at the ferret who's name is probably Nicholin. "Bond with me, creature. I'm a member of the Ren family. I'm educated, talented, and my brother is already an arcanist."
"I won't bond with a child," Nicholin said."What? But—"
Nicholin shook his head. "No exceptions."
It didn't surprise me. Mystical creatures became more like the person they bonded to, and children often haven't grown into their true selves yet.
Plus, no one wanted to become immature or childish, so most mystical creatures waited to bond with individuals only after their coming of age.
Lyell still had a couple years to go.
Knowing the ferret wouldn't bond with him also sent a flood of relief through my body. The last thing I wanted was to lose another arcanist opportunity to the Ren family.
"I want to bond with you," Illia said, completely ignoring Lyell's incredulous look. "I think we would be perfect together."
The ivory ferret rubbed at his nose. "Bond with you, huh?"
"That's right."
"Hm. I see." He bounded to the edge of the branch and hopped up and down. "While I want nothing more than to leave this wretched mire, I can't just bond with any ol' random person."
Illia glanced around and then cocked her good eyebrow. "Well, I'm not just anyone. I'm the talented individual who discovered your whereabouts. I'm your rescuer."
The ferret chirped as he hopped. But then he stopped and stroked his tiny chin with one of his paws. "I suppose you did find me. Though, to be fair, I was heading out of the mire myself. Finding me doesn't prove much.Oh, I know! We'll have a ceremony of worth. It's only proper, after all. You have to prove yourself to me."
"Anything," Illia replied.The ferret bounded across the branch again, his run a mix of jumping and scurrying. Then he stopped at the far end of the limb—the closest he could get to Illia, though he was still three feet above her head—and he stared down with a rodent smile.
"But how shall I determine your worth?" he asked. "I don't want to watch you parade around in the mud. Physical feats aren't as impressive to me as wits and cunning. Oh! I have an idea. We should have a contest of character. You should impress me with tales of your past."
Illia nodded and then flashed me a quick smile. I replied in kind, almost giddy to the point of laughing. We were doing it! We had met a stray mystical creature, and now we would become arcanists! This really was an opportunity of a lifetime!
"Did you two know about this thing?" Lyell asked with a huff. "Is that why you came out here? There are no herbs, are there?"
"Keep it down," I said."Why? So one of you can bond with a pathetic little creature?" He held up his hands, trying to measure the ferret by closing one eye and squinting."It's so tiny. Look at it. It doesn't have the magical power of a phoenix.You'll be one of the weakest arcanists of all time."
The ferret chirped and gave Lyell a blue glare. "Ha! This is why I would never bond with a child. You have no idea what you're talking about."
Nicholin puffed out his fur, a little ball of white, making himself look larger.
"I'm amazing, if I do say so myself."
"Seriously, what is it?" Lyell frowned. "I've never even heard of a creature that looks like that. It's not a griffon or a unicorn or anything recognizable. It's probably a bastard cousin of some water rat sailors always complain about."
Again, I held back a laugh as the ferret arched his back in cat-like fashion and flashed his teeth. They were all sharp, sure, but no bigger than my fingernails.
With an adorable growl, the ferret said, "You should count yourself lucky you're young! If I had to show my real power to you, there'd be nothing left." His squeaking became extra ridiculous with his anger.
Lyell snickered and crossed his arms.After a calming breath, the ferret smoothed back its impossibly white fur. "For your information, I'm a rizzel. Very rare. Very powerful. More so than a unicorn or a phoenix, at any rate."
"I've never heard of a rizzel."
"Hm. Maybe you aren't as smart as you thought."
"Pfft," Lyell said. "You're just saying that you're amazing so we don't leave you out in this swamp. I bet no one ever wanted to bond with you, and that's why you're out here living like an actual animal."
Although it was obvious Lyell was just saying things because he was angry about being rejected, I knew his statements held merit. There were mystical creatures no one ever wanted to bond with, mostly because they were so much hassle or because the magic they offered was harmful to everyone around. Some bog spirits produced noxious gas, making bonding an impossibility. Maybe that was why these creatures were on the ship that crashed—they were transporting dangerous goods no one wanted.Was that the case with a rizzel? I had never heard of one before. Ever. And I had read plenty of books on William's shelves. Then again, there were hundreds of thousands of mystical creatures, some big, some small,some numerous, some rare—some were even extinct. I couldn't be expected to know them all.
Ignoring Lyell altogether, Illia stepped forward. "When I was a little girl, I escaped from a pirate ship. Does that prove my character enough?"
The rizzel settled down for a moment and stroked his chin. "Hm. Maybe. How did you escape?"
With unmitigated enthusiasm, Illia smiled and held up her hands. "It was the dead of night." Her dramatic tone caught everyone's attention. Even the strange man, who kept glancing at me for some reason. Even Lyell stopped his scoffing to listen. She continued, "I had been the pirates' prisoner for two days, but they didn't think a little girl would pose much threat. They let me wander around the hold, away from their treasures, but foolishly close to their stocks of oil."
Illia pantomimed sneaking around. "So, while most of the crew slept, I spilled the oil and set it on fire."
She threw her arms up in a demonstration of whooshing fire. "The pirates were so frantic they were tripping over each other in their haste to quell the flames."
"This actually happened?" Lyell asked.
"Shh," both me and the mystery man hissed.
The rizzel motioned Illia to continue. "And then what happened?"
"The pirates were distracted," Illia said. "So I dove into the water." She clapped her hands together once. I flinched at the loud snap, and so did the rizzel. "We were close to shore, and I had always been a good swimmer, so I didn't fret. I made my way to the beach and called for help."
Lyell stepped closer.
"And?"
"And then the pirates were chased away by a local arcanist," Illia said with a hint of pride in her voice. "Which is why I want to become an arcanist. I want to protect people from the pirates of the world. I want—"
she stopped herself for a moment as her hand went back under her hair and over the scars of her face, "—I want to make the world a safer place."
The rizzel clapped his little ferret hands together. "Yes, yes! What a tale.You escaped using your wits and won the day. I'm impressed!"
Although Illia had never told me the details of her escape—I always thought it inappropriate to ask—I believed every word. Maybe other people would've cried or given up in the hopeless situation of a pirate cargo hold, but Illia wasn't like that. Even after they cut her eye away. She never gave up.
I wanted to have that kind of determination.The rizzel turned to me, its blue eyes searching mine. "And what about you?"
"Me?" I shook my head. Illia had been the one to engage first. It seemed dishonorable to attempt to take the opportunity of bonding away from her.
"I didn't say I was part of the ceremony."
"True. But someone has to compete against her or else it's not a real competition.
"Illia turned to me, her expression neutral, but her tightly balled fists told me she didn't want to fight with me over anything. I knew because I felt the same way. It was one thing to prove myself to a mystical creature over Zaxis or Lyell—or anyone from the Ren family, to be frank—but I could never imagine besting Illia after everything she had done to bring us here.
"Will you bond with a criminal's son?" I asked the rizzel.
He shook his head.
"Probably not."
"Then… it doesn't matter. My mother was a thief and my father a murderer."
Although it pained me to utter every word, I knew it was for the best. This way there would be no contest.
"Not even the phoenixes would bond with him," Lyell chimed in. "My father said he's as disrespectful as she is ugly." T
hen he jutted a thumb in Illia's direction and laughed.
She pressed her lips together and said nothing. Although I hated Lyell more and more, my mind wouldn't stop dwelling on the situation. A random mystical creature in the mire felt I would somehow inherit my parent's wicked ways. Was I really doomed to be like them? Everyone was so convinced, what hope did I have of finding anything to bond with?
The rizzel swished his tail from side to side. "Well, since we have no other contestants other than Micheal… and because I'm tired of waiting here in the mire for that arcanist to return… you're the winner."
He stood on his two back legs and patted his chest. "You may call me Nicholin."
"Hold on," Illia said. "You're waiting for an arcanist?"
"What does it matter?" Nicholin huffed. "He was supposed to take me and a few others to a new island, but he crashed the boat instead! Then he said we can't leave the mire because of a plague or some nonsense and took off. He was a nutter, that one. I haven't seen him for some time."
Him and a few others? It had to be the other mystical creatures the fishermen reported on. But the reports also said the creatures were dangerous and lashed out. Nicholin wasn't like that. He seemed the exact opposite, actually—desperate for the company and ready to leave. Perhaps the fishermen had run into a different creature?
Nicholin shook his head.
"But that doesn't matter now. I'm ready to bond, and I'm confident we'll make a great team."
Illia stepped forward and held out her hand.
"I think we will too."
The rizzel leapt from the tree and landed on her arm with the grace of a falling leaf. Then he scurried to her shoulders and wrapped himself around the back of her neck.
Nicholin glowed a soft white that intensified until the area around us was engulfed in a flash of light. I covered my eyes and took a step back.
Then the light faded.
Illia turned to me and smiled. Her forehead bore the mark of all arcanists,a seven-pointed star.
The star represented a person's soul—their source of magic. At first the star was small and pale, but as an arcanist developed their magic and became stronger, the star became more prominent. And each star had a picture of the arcanist's eldrin—even Illia's star had a rizzel woven around it, its ferret-like body twisting around the points and its face smiling in mischief.
Once bonded, an arcanist and eldrin shared their magic. Arcanists offered their soul to fuel their powers, and an eldrin determined the types of magic used. Phoenixes gave their arcanists fire and healing, but what would a rizzel do?
I admired Illia's star for far too long.
"I can't believe it," she whispered to me as she rubbed at the mark.
"It's like a dream."
"I'm happy for you," I said, my chest tight.
I meant it. But…
What if none of the other mystical creatures bonded with me? Would Illia leave Ruma with Zaxis and Atty? Would she… leave me behind? This could be our last few days together, and here I was celebrating.
I couldn't bear to voice my concerns. I didn't want to dampen her moment or the mood. I needed to stay strong. The fifteenth step on the Pillar said as much.
Optimism. Without it, we lose ourselves to misery. I needed to remain focused and hopeful. There would be a mystical creature somewhere in the Endless Mire who would want to bond with me.
There had to be.
I then glance at the mystery man to find he's not there anymore.
I turn to Nicholin and ask, "where did that man you called Micheal go?"
The Rizzel looks confused and says, "I'm not sure, he's probably going to take a stroll somewhere or something like that."
"So there are other mystical creatures out here?" Lyell asked.
Nicholin nodded. "Two others were on the boat with me, but they weren't the friendliest of sorts, so we went our separate ways."
Without another word, Lyell stomped through the mire, trudging to the heart of the mangrove trees, never glancing back. I watched him go for a moment before turning back to Illia.
"We can't let him wander too far on his own," she said.
"He'll be fine." I secretly hoped he would get stuck in a sinkhole, but I wasn't about to say anything.
"What if he bonds with one of the others?"
I sighed. "I'll go after him in a second. I just wanted to ask what it felt like. Being an arcanist, I mean."
Illia stroked Nicholin's ivory fur. "Well, I'm still me, but… it's like there's a new part of me I never knew before. Like growing a third arm."
She grimaced and then shook her head. "That wasn't the best analogy, but it's kinda like that. Having a new limb. Or maybe a new sense."
Nicholin nodded. "Yes! Together we create something new. And your soul is so strong! I lucked out when you stumbled into the mire, that's for sure. I was starting to worry I'd die here… all alone." He squeaked and nuzzled against Illia's neck. "But now that we're together, we're partners! You're my arcanist, and I'm your eldrin."
She laughed and nodded along with his words. "Yes. Exactly."
"I'm going to go after Lyell," I said as I motioned to his hustling form off in the distance.
"I want to stay here and chat with Nicholin for a moment, okay?"
"Sure. Just don't take too long. Now that you're an arcanist, you need to protect us."
Illia gave me a salute. "I'll do my best."
I headed for Lyell. He wasn't hard to catch up to, not when I used the red mangrove trees as leverage. I couldn't hop onto the roots, not when my boots were slick with mud and water, but the trees were still sturdy enough to use as a guide.
"Don't try to stop me," Lyell hissed when I got close. "I can't believe you knew about these creatures and said nothing!"
"Would you have said anything?"
"O-of course!"
I scoffed. "You could say something right now."
"Obviously I'm going to bond with something before you get your gravedigger hands on it!"
"Hm."
"What're you doing, anyway?" Lyell said as he motioned to the mire.
"None of these creatures are going to bond with someone like you. And I'll make sure they know your past if you try to stop me from finding one!"
I gripped my shovel tight. If I wanted, I could stop him in his tracks, but that wasn't becoming of an arcanist. What would Gregory Ruma do? The tales of him and his leviathan always had a clever ending. Tricking pirates.Making friends of enemies. Solving complex puzzles. I had to be like him.
"Well, what're you going to do?" I asked. "None of the mystical creatures will bond with a child. "Lyell stopped his stomping and glared. "I look old enough."
I placed my hand on his shoulder. "Listen. How about we make a deal? I won't tell the creatures how old you are, and you won't tell them about my parents. See? And there are at least two creatures out here. We can both benefit if we cooperate." Lyell jerked his shoulder away. "Ha! I'm not going to lie. Then the creatures will never bond with me."
"I didn't say lie about it. Just don't mention it. Those are two entirely different things."
"Fine." He crossed his arms. "We won't mention details about one another. But I get the better of the creatures, whatever we find."
"Deal."
It really didn't matter to me anymore. All I could think about was Illia leaving for the mainland. I had to be on the boat with her—I had to become an arcanist.
Although she still hadn't joined us, I pressed forward. I almost felt embarrassed that she was an arcanist and I wasn't. I was older, after all.Only by a few months, but still. And what if we found something that rejected me? I didn't want to make a fool of myself in front of everyone like I had at the Day of Phoenixes. Sloshing through the mire had left my feet cold and slimy. I gritted my teeth and tried to think of something else, but the slippery feeling was hard to ignore. And the bugs. The bugs were the worst. William had a lavender and peppermint rub that kept all kinds of bugs at bay, but I hadn't thought to bring it.
I cursed my foolishness under my breath."Hey," Lyell said, his gaze down. "Do you really think I'll be too old fora phoenix next bonding ceremony?"
I didn't know how to reply. It was obvious to me he wouldn't be allowed to join, but what good would it do me to rub it in his face? I probably shouldn't have said it to begin with.
"Lyell," I began. But nothing insightful came to me. Not even the Pillar offered an appropriate nugget of wisdom to deal with this kind of situation.
Lyell huffed. "N-never mind. Forget I said anything. I'll bond with something, just you see."
Without warning, as though storm clouds had blotted out the sun, the mire grew dark. Lyell and I stopped in our tracks and glanced around the area. Shadows thickened, obscuring the path we had taken to get here. Even the chirp of crickets went quiet as the world became eerie and still."What's going on?" Lyell asked.
"I don't know," I said as I held my shovel close.A mound of mud rose from the water, no taller than two feet.
Lyell jumped behind me and pointed, even though it was impossible to miss.
The mound remained nothing more than a glob of twigs, mud, and rocks.
It undulated a bit when it spoke.
"Travelers," it said with a dark and curt voice. A bubble rose out of the mud and popped, punctuating its speech. "Why have you come to this place?"
Was it some sort of swamp spirit? Perhaps it was a bunyip —a swamp guardian—or a grootslang —a mystical creature who supposedly created mires and bogs—but since it was covered in mud, it was hard to say for sure.
"You can have this one," Lyell whispered. He gave the odd creature a sneer.
"It looks like something you should bond with."
I held back my sarcastic commentary and stepped forward.
Anything was better than staying on Ruma as a gravedigger.
"We heard there were mystical creatures in the mire, and we came to bond," I said. The mound of mud didn't reply.
I continued, "I, uh, would be honored if you considered me."
"I am not looking to bond with anyone. A lifetime of failures has led me here. I'd rather dwell on my mistakes in solitude."
When it started to sink back beneath the surface of the water, I held out a hand.
"W-wait, please hear me out. I think I could help you. We could help each other."
Lyell snickered. "I can't wait to tell Zaxis you groveled to a swamp thing."
"Why?" the mound asked. "Why do you want to bond with a mystical creature?"
"To become an arcanist, of course," I said.
"Why?" it asked again. "Why do you seek to become an arcanist?"
Lyell stepped around me and said, "Who wouldn't want to become an arcanist?"
The mound waited a moment. Then it replied, "I can bond with anyone. If you want to become an arcanist simply because everyone else wants it, then you are nothing more than a sad imitation of others, an easily replaced duplicate with a dream as shallow as these waters. Why should I make your goals my own? If you can't give me a proper answer, then bonding is out of the question and I will return to my self-imposed isolation. So I'll ask again.Why do you want to become an arcanist?"
Although the mound bubbled and undulated, it spoke with such a regal presence that I found myself questioning what it really was. A simple swamp creature? Or was it disguised as a swamp thing and really something else? Either way, I wanted to be truthful and upfront, but I also wanted to impress it.I hesitated. Should I be completely honest? A part of me wanted to reveal everything and see how it reacted.
"I was born to criminals," I muttered.Lyell snapped his attention to me, his eyes wide.
"That doesn't answer my question," the mound said. "Your lineage doesn't matter. Your choices and actions are your own. All I want to know is why you sought to bond."
I could hardly believe it. This mystical creature didn't care about my bloodline? It was a miracle and a blessing rolled into one. This had to be the creature I was destined to bond with!
"I want to prove to the world I'm not who they think I am," I said, straightening my posture.
"That's why I want to become an arcanist."
"Truthfully?"
"Yes. If I'm an arcanist, I can show the world I'm not a criminal. I'll have the power to prove everyone wrong."
"Feh," the mound said, a large bubble popping at the same time and releasing gas. "Those who seek power for power's sake soon find themselves in hell. You don't need to become an arcanist to prove to the world you're not a villain, you need only to avoid villainous activities." The mound half-sank back into the water.
"Seek me out when you have a real reason to become an arcanist." It slid the rest of the way, disappearing from sight.
I clenched my jaw and fought back the urge to yell.
Why was I never good enough? I thought being truthful would be appreciated, but perhaps lying would've been best all along. I should have just said what everyone wanted to hear. If I was going to be punished for being a criminal, why not benefit from criminal activity? Why not lie to all the creatures in the mire and bond with one through trickery? At least then I would have something instead of nothing.
I ran a hand through my hair, clawing at my scalp.The darkness thinned and disappeared, leaving Lyell and I standing in the mid-afternoon light streaming through the emerald leaves above.
Lyell belted out a round of laughter, even going so far as to smack hisknees in delight.
"Not even a gross pile of swamp mud would take you!" he said between heavy chuckles. "It turned you down! Just like that! Zaxis will love this story!" He devolved into more laughter, so amused by my defeat I swear he wasn't getting enough air to breathe.
I silently hoped he would pass out and drown in the foot-deep waters.Filled with regret and unending frustration, I turned to seek out Illia. She always knew what to say to get me out of my spiral of depression. And maybe her new rizzel would have some insight into the situation. Perhaps Nicholin could convince the swamp thing to hear me out a second time.
I couldn't give up hope.
I couldn't.
"Did I hear you say… you wanted power?"
The awkward cadence of the sentence left me unnerved—it sounded like someone trying to speak for the first time, only instead of sounds, it was a full-blown sentence, and they didn't truly understand what they were saying or even how to say it correctly.
I slowly turned around, my eyebrows knit together, until I caught sight of the speaker.
A mystical creature.
A giant snowy stag—a legendary white hart. White harts were deer as large as a stallion, with gold antlers that curved up and around. All tales about them spoke of their stealth and ability to hide in plain sight, despite their massive size and power. The beast stood only ten feet from us and I hadn't detected it at all. Invisibility? I didn't know.But it had clearly been close enough to hear our conversation.
"You're looking to bond…aren't … you?" the white hart asked.
Again, his words were so unnatural, they were hard to understand.
And he didn't open his eyes. They were tightly shut, almost sunken in.The beast hung his head, as if he was going to drink from the mire water,but he never did.
"A white hart," Lyell whispered. He pushed me aside and stepped forward.
"I'm looking to bond!"
White harts were probably just as powerful as a phoenix. Was it one of the mystical creatures from the boat wreck? I thought the fishermen had seen a unicorn, but perhaps they mistook the ivory pelt of the white hart as the sign of a unicorn.The white hart took two steps forward, its legs jerking with an unnatural gait.
Something wasn't right, and each second that passed I grew colder and more aware of my ever-increasing heartbeat. I had never seen a creature move or talk like this white hart. Ever.
"I could… hear your thoughts," the stag said. "When you… spoke. To my friend."
Lyell took a step back and gave me a questioning glance. "Why is it talking like that?" he whispered.
"I don't know," I whispered back.The white hart lifted his head. "Volke."
I shivered. "Y-yes?" How did it know my name?
"Your wish… has been answered. Bond with me. I will…we will…have the power to show everyone in town. We can… prove to all of Ruma… what you really are."
I caught my breath, my mind locking up with indecision. The white hart didn't look right. He didn't sound right. But I liked his words. And he was willing to bond, right now. No questions. No judgments.
"It's not fair… what they did," the beast continued. It took another step forward, its movements still forced and jerky. "It's not fair… that they cast you aside… Not fair… that undeserving men… get phoenixes… while you wait on… the fringes of society."
I fiddled with my shovel and nodded. It wasn't fair.
Should I bond with him? I wanted to. I wanted to stroll into town with a creature just as mighty as a phoenix and show them all up. But the swamp creature's words echoed in my thoughts. It was right. I already wasn't a criminal, so why, then, did I want to bond? Surely I had a reason beyond petty revenge, but why couldn't I articulate it?
Bonding with the white hart didn't feel right. He might have what I want, but something was off. I couldn't ignore that for my own selfish gains."Hey," Lyell said. Again, he sloshed forward, his shoulders squared.
"I'm here too. Volke is half the man I am."
"Ah, you… Lyell Ren…forgotten child… You won't ever get. A phoenix. Too young for one now… too old for one in the future…Perhaps… you and I…should show your family how powerful you are."
No.No, no, no.I didn't know what was happening, but I knew it was wrong. I took Lyell by the shoulder and pulled him back.
"We need to leave," I whispered.
"No." He slipped from my grasp and walked closer to the strange beast.
"The white hart is right. I am the forgotten child. I deserve a mystical creature, just like my older brother. I'm going to bond with it."
"Lyell. It's sick and not acting right. Get away from it."
"You're just jealous," he snapped. "You had your chance, but you wasted it." Then he held out his hand. "Bond with me, white hart. I'm ready."
The beast opened his eyes all the way, as wide as they would go until they were perfect circles.
I froze, my heart pounding in my ears.
The white hart's eyes were like dead fish eyes. They shook—jiggled, really—as though struggling not to pop out of the sockets. Bulging outward,they swiveled around with no rhyme or reason to where the head was facing.
And then he smiled.
I didn't know deer mouths stretched so far upward, but it did, expressing emotion like only a madman could.
"Look out!" I shouted as I yanked Lyell by the collar of his tailored shirt.
"Come back ," the white hart said with a giggle.The beast lunged, his golden antlers thrusting forward to gore us both. I swung with my shovel and took a chunk of flesh from its face, but instead of crying out in pain or screaming, the monster deer reared back on its hind legs and laughed.
"Bond with me!" He cackled as he slammed down into the mire,splashing me and Lyell with mud, some of which got in my eye.
"Bond with me… or I'll have you begging for death!"
When the monster lunged again, I pushed Lyell out of the way, but the grime in my vision stole my ability to react properly. The antlers caught my hip and leg, gouging a furrow of blood and muscle. I yelled and stumbled backward, but I managed to keep my footing. I swung with the shovel again, harder than I had ever swung anything before.
I clipped the beast across the eyes, slicing one open and chipping the skull underneath.Still, the white hart laughed."
Volke," Lyell shouted, breathless.
"Run," I said. "Get away. Hurry! Before he uses his—"
When I glanced back, the white hart was gone.No, not gone. Invisible. Nearby. Using his magic to conceal himself and strike from the shadows of the mangrove trees.
Lyell stood frozen, a look of abject terror cemented on his face.I sloshed to his side, took him by the arm, and continued back the way we came. I couldn't feel the injury on my hip or leg, but the scarlet blood that soaked my trousers and drizzled into the water wasn't helping me remain focused.
"Yes,run," the white hart said with a giggle, his voice close, though I couldn't see him.
"Then one of you can die tired."
When the monster attacked, he revealed himself, appearing out of nowhere, right by my side. I shoved Lyell out of the way and got caught by another pointed antler, this time ripping my shirt and goring my forearm. I yelled, half from surprise and half from the heated sting of the injury.
At this rate, we were going to die.The white hart leapt back, laughing louder than before, his antlers red with my blood. He disappeared again. Not even the water rippled with his movement—something about his magic made it impossible to detect.
Lyell trembled. "You… y-you saved me."
I grabbed his arm and glanced around the area.The mangrove trees. Their roots grew like tents above the ground, creating sheltered spaces. I rushed over to a large grouping and pushed Lyell toward one.
"In," I commanded.
"We need to put things between us and the white hart."
My voice remained remarkably steady for how panicked my thoughts were. Where was the creature? How long did we have? Where was Illia? Was there a way to call for help?
Lyell squeezed into the roots and hid under the tree. I held my shovel ready, knowing the white hart wouldn't appreciate our actions. Sure enough, the beast appeared again, this time on his hind legs, ready to trample me.
I swung the shovel as I dove to the side. The sharpened tip sliced the ribs of the beast, drawing blood enough to mar the beauty of his pelt. The creature' diamond-hard hooves missed me by mere inches. Murky water splashed everywhere.
"You're fools for refusing me," the white hart shouted. "Ingrates! I am more powerful than you can imagine! I'm becoming perfect! I'm transforming!"
I had never heard of a mystical creature as insane as the white hart. His eyes swirled, and I realized then that the one I had sliced had healed.
Actually, all of it had healed as though I had done nothing this entire fight.The incessant laughter only added to my dread. What could I possibly do to defeat this beast?
The white hart slammed his hooves on the roots of the tree, splitting one into splinters. Then it gored at the roots, breaking them apart with his antlers, inching closer to Lyell with each powerful swing.
"H-help!" Lyell shouted, his voice breaking. "Volke! Don't leave me!"
Although I had become sluggish, my injured body on the verge of quitting, I stepped forward and swung my shovel into the beast's shank. I took another chunk of flesh, but the monster didn't even turn around. The white hart smashed farther into the tree, already halfway through.
I wasn't going to kill the beast with a damn shovel, that much I knew.
"He's just a kid," I said. "It's me you want!"
The white hart huffed and let out a single laugh. Then he turned to face me, his smile somehow widening, distorting the creature's deer face into something straight out of a nightmare.
"Come closer," he whispered.There were certain things in the world people instinctively knew were bad—falling from great heights, fire, snakes… and the way this monster whispered.
I stepped forward regardless. I had to keep its attention. Lyell would never survive the creature's onslaught if I abandoned him. At least I had a weapon. That was what I kept telling myself, anyway.
The white hart gave me his full attention, turning away from the tree and cackling.
"Lyell," I said. "Go. Stay under the trees."
"But it'll kill you!"
"Go. I'll handle this."
Lyell nodded and squeezed himself through another set of roots. He continued toward the edge of the mire. I'll handle this, I said, like I had any damn clue what I was doing. But sometimes a show of confidence, even if it was all a farce, could make the difference.
The white hart didn't glance back at Lyell. Instead, he advanced toward me, his toothy smile never waning.
"Bond with me," he said. "Or I… kill the forgotten child."
I took a step back. "What? No trial of worth?" I quipped.
The monster laughed.
Then he disappeared.
"A trial of worth?Yes! We need… one."
When the white hart reappeared, he flipped around and kicked me square in the chest with one of his massive hooves. I don't know how long I lost my sight or consciousness, but the next thing I knew I was underwater,my body in so much pain I couldn't move—I wasn't even capable of inhaling, so drowning was out of the question.
I regained control of my body one limb at a time until I flailed and pulled myself out of the mud by the roots of a mangrove tree. Still, I couldn't breathe. Instead, I hacked and wheezed, my lungs squeezing themselves harder and harder.
"You didn't die," the white hart said with a giggle. "Congratulations.That means you passed the test . Now, bond with me, maggot. I need…more… magic… to become perfect."
I couldn't stand. I couldn't find my shovel. Heck, I could barely see, my vision fading in and out.
The white hart drew closer and touched my shoulder with his smile-twisted snout. Then he glowed a brilliant white. A feeling washed over me —like something raked at my insides, demanding to connect, an icy grip on my soul—and although I had never felt it before, I knew it had to be the offer to bond. But I had the option to reject, I could feel that too.
I really didn't know what to do. The white hart had proven himself insane and violent—nothing like any mystical creature I had ever read about—so whatever he wanted, I figured the outcome would only lead to more insanity and violence. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let him get "more magic" and "become perfect" or whatever he really wanted. I had to keep the monster's attention so that Lyell could fully escape, perhaps even tell Illia what had happened. Even if it meant my life. I mean, that was what true arcanists did, wasn't it? They fought until the bitter end. They gave their lives to ensure the world was protected from monsters like this.
Bravery. Without it, we cannot act in the face of fear.
I had to keep fighting. Just a little bit longer.I rejected the white hart's offer to bond.
The monster stopped glowing, but he didn't stop laughing.
"Wrong decision," he said with glee.
He thrust forward and gored me with his antlers. It was hard to feel anything, and my vision slid in and out. Maybe a few points went straight through my chest, I don't know. The next thing I remember was opening my eyes under the murky water, the haze of dirt and grime all I could see.
I pulled myself up into a sitting position, my whole body trembling as I leaned against the roots of a mangrove tree. The white hart clopped around,splashing water the entire time, and my heart seized in my chest. I closed my eyes.
It was going to kill me.
The light faded and darkness swept between the trees, blanketing the mire in a zone of shadow. A mound of mud rose from the water just as I lost the last bit of my sight. Was it the other mystical creature? I couldn't even find the strength to voice the question. "Corrupted beast," some dark and imposing voice echoed between the trees. "You lost yourself to the plague and now you're nothing more than a monster."
The white hart responded with a howl of laughter. "Finally come tos how yourself, knightmare? I'll see… you broken!"
"You can't even remember your name, can you?"
" Fight me, wretch!"
Then a new voice is heard.
"red"
after that one word was said a large shockwave is heard.
"Your suffering ends here, old friend."
A cold rush of wind.
No more laughter.
"thank you for the help"
"no problem. I will always help someone who I plan to have as mystudent."
Then a few splashes of water.
"Think he'll be okay? He is a human mortal so he doesn't heal like us."
"I plan to make him my new arcanist. he must first accept my quest as well though."
"I see...then I shall wait at the entrance of the endless mire. meet me there."
"Understood."
There are footsteps and a popping sound.
I forced myself to take a ragged breath, my whole body awash in agony as though on fire. The darkness receded, allowing me to see once more, but at first I thought I was hallucinating.
The white hart had been torn into pieces—the head, the body, the hindlegs—all separated and gushing foul blood and intestines into the waters of the Endless Mire. Bits of him twitched, but there was no healing such outrageous injuries. He was dead and vivisected. I closed my eyes.
What could have done such a thing?
Something walked through the mire waters and stopped at my side. I shuddered. Was it the thing that killed the white hart?
"I stood by and did nothing," the voice said, more melancholy than before. "Forgive me. I did not want to get involved. I should have acted sooner."
I coughed up water. I felt tired. I wanted to sleep.
"Your determination impressed me. I thought you were a child in the body of a man, seeking power to harm others as they had harmed you. But your true nature revealed itself in your battle."
My true nature? I wished I could speak, but I didn't have the strength.
"A power hungry fiend would've taken the white hart's offer to bond," the voice continued. "A coward would have left Lyell to die and saved himself. A weak-willed sycophant would have bonded with the white hart the moment his life was threatened. But a true knight stands firm in the face of overwhelming darkness."
My heart beat weaker and weaker each passing second. Soon it wouldn't have the blood necessary to continue. Hot tears mixed with the dirt streaked across my face.
"I was once bonded," the voice said. "My arcanist was killed, however, leaving me fragmented and lost. I don't want to watch you fade away, but I cannot abandon my revenge either. Bond with me and your new magic will stitch your broken body together enough to save your life."
Bond? Right now?
"But know this," the voice continued. "If you bond, you agree to help me in my quest for vengeance. I will see my old arcanist's murderer brought to justice. And if you get in my way, I'll cut you down as well."
Again, I felt a presence flooding my being. Something calming and resolute. Gripping at my soul.
An offer to bond.And this time I took it."I am a knightmare. You may call me Luthair."
After that I lost consciousness.
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[hope you all enjoyed!!! also did I do well making my character seem cool and controlled?]