In those days mankind will arrive

  From the bounties of the earth

  Under a mournful cry.

  Those above closed their eyes

  Not all is lost, they will see

  A wrathful fist, colored in dirt and blood.

  *

  Zara opened her eyes before the sun. She tried to look at it, but it was blinding.

  She had no shadow, and what she thought was a desert around her was her imagination.

  She tried to remember why she was here, in this place.

  Then she remembered that attack and how Efar kept fighting before she fainted.

  All of that seemed to destroy her. Is this her limit? A hit to the head and she was useless?

  ‘No! I am learning! I can become more! Master Seon told me so!’

  …

  She didn’t believe herself. Empty words that she told herself to feel better.

  ‘Why was I born like this?’

  Often she was told by seers that her birth was a bad sign and she should be ostracized. Many people would try to hurt her.

  Whether Gard and Decen kicked them out of town because of this, she did not know.

  Her father tried to reassure her that there is nothing wrong with her. That everybody has setbacks.

  Maybe she understood it all too well.

  The sun shone still.

  But the more she looked around she became all the more doubtful.

  Was it right for her to be like this?

  She tried to cry, but the sun evaporated any tears.

  It was distant, yet it kept sending light.

  She turned her head up. It was still hard to look at it directly.

  ‘I’ve seen you in my dreams, always bringing light to my nightmares.’

  She chose fire as her element, for it brought light.

  She didn’t care for its destructive side, but the warmth.

  She wanted to embrace it even if it killed her.

  To feel a warmth that the world may have never given her.

  Doubt not. The sun will rise, with it, a new strength.

  ‘Live. Die. Rebirth.’

  She repeated these words in her mind.

  ‘I died once before. I refuse to let go.’

  For the first time in her life, she decided to follow the sun wholeheartedly.

  ‘No more tears. It’s all or nothing!’

  The sun scorched her. At that, she realized something that would push her further.

  ‘Not enough.’

  The sun was just another stepping stone.

  *

  Efar on the outside was struggling. He looked around and saw that Decen was fighting against something that unsettled him deeply.

  He heard Alberto on the other side, but seeing as to how he wasn’t beside him meant it would take a while.

  Efar looked at himself. Dirty and tired, some small pebbles in his hair fell.

  ‘Same as back then.’

  But he couldn’t afford to lose focus. The animal was near.

  He dodged the bull. Sometimes he caught its horns and trying to put its head down, but it was relentless.

  It was then that the bull made an unusual motion and impaled Efar somewhere in the ribs, pinning him in the wall.

  That was a place he felt specifically. The slave traders often hit him there.

  ‘NO NO NO NO!’

  Like never before in his life, Efar united his hands in one fist and hit with full force the bull’s neck.

  The bull felt it in its bones. It was shaken so much he let go of Efar.

  Blood soaked the dirt, flowing constantly from the injury. Every cell in Efar’s body kept telling him to give up. To run.

  They weren’t voices in a real sense, but something Efar felt. Usually, he listened. He never wanted to push himself too far. Especially in a life or death matter.

  Not now.

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  Efar ‘forced’ his body to listen to him.

  He refused to believe there was an injury.

  He refused to believe he was tired.

  He refused to believe that there is a limit.

  In response to his inner voice his wound stitched itself slowly by stretching the skin and covered it in bodily oils.

  As disgusting as it was, it was the best his body could do now.

  ‘Not enough!’

  Efar’s muscles grew the tiniest bit in size, barely noticeable, but Efar knew a secret about himself. Each and every fiber in his muscles would raise his strength substantially more than normal. It was the reason he learned grappling and he kept learning how to wield different weapons.

  With hatred Efar declared:

  “Come here, beast. I will tame you the hard way!”

  The bull, not understanding a word, stepped forth furious. It, too, was not letting go of its prey.

  Efar took the bull by its horns directly. He was still pushed back, but not enough for the bull to claim victory.

  “Hooo…”

  With all of the strength he could muster, from his lower body firmly planted in the ground to his upper body that held back the beast he made a step forward.

  “Curse youuuu!!!”

  And he made another step forward.

  The bull, surprised, lowered its head trying to shake off Efar. But Efar waited for this moment and, holding the horns so hard they almost cracked, he pushed the bull into the other wall with increasing force.

  The blood vessels in his hands popped and bled, his muscles torn from the inhuman strength.

  The bull hit Efar in the chest with a sudden surge of energy, sending him to the ground.

  Efar stood up. His arms were a mess. Hot air came from his nostrils.

  He clenched his fists despite the intense pain.

  This time the bull wasn’t so keen on fighting. But Efar was.

  His muscles changed again, his feet bulged considerably.

  Then he ran to the bull. The bull, as usual, stood his ground.

  Only now Efar strengthened his bones too and when he hit the bull with his knee something cracked.

  In his heart, Efar fought fiercely against his fears all these years. Ever since he was rescued and adopted by Fox.

  He was followed in his nightmares by the abysmal fear. So much he dreaded it.

  The horns fell apart. A hole was left in the bull’s head. Blood seeped slowly from it, as if its body was just now realizing what happened.

  When Efar was hit in that weak spot he imagined what would happen to Zara if he fell. What would Alberto go through? What would their parents think?

  The bull fell. Just like the fears in his heart, only one could emerge victorious.

  And it would be him.

  Now, with the bull felled, Efar hurried to the erected wall but he fell flat. It was one thing to force his body to listen, but his stamina was another matter.

  Despite knowing that Alberto and Decen would help him, a thought came in his mind.

  ‘Not enough.’

  *

  Alberto had to dispel a curse without Zara’s help. He knew it was dangerous. His master knew too. But he couldn’t just sit by.

  ‘They will die if I don’t do anything!’

  Alberto was aware of the weakness of his soul. That he was born weak spiritually. How often did he fear this day, when he had to deal with the supernatural by himself?

  He was naked compared to Zara. A demon could ravage his soul and even take control of his body to an extent.

  Even Efar, despite not training his soul, could not be overtaken like that.

  After their first encounter with a demon they were all given a crash course about the supernatural.

  Seon specifically told Alberto to never battle a demon alone.

  Dispeling a curse wasn’t like a spell. Always behind the incantation laid an alarm of sorts. It awoke the demon under whose authority the curse was made.

  If one was unlucky, a brand would appear and the entire demonic legion would try to make life a living hell. After all of that? Condemnation.

  Despite these dangers he pushed on.

  He didn’t live long, but he was subjected to the insidious treachery of court politics in a country that did not even have a name here.

  He learned much from them. The best and last lesson before he departed was the following:

  ‘It’s not worth it.’

  All of the bickering, backstabbing and plotting were with no value if all he gained was a meager position which could be lost at the slightest mistake.

  ‘As easy as you can gain, you can lose,’ was his mother’s saying.

  She was not any better than the others as she killed and betrayed often enough. But those words stuck with him even now.

  The curse was dispelled, but all of the mana he had saved even after drinking the potions was depleted.

  His head throbbed in pain and he fell on his knees. The staff helped him not fall face first, but looking at it, admiring its complexity, and then looking at the wall before him he sighed.

  ‘Not enough.’

  *

  Decen faced an abomination of a man. Not physically, but spiritually. The soul of the boy had been contorted so horribly he resembled a beast more than a man.

  On the surface, nothing changed. To a normal man something would feel off, maybe even dreadful.

  But he saw in the empty eyes of this possessed boy: a smouldering hatred that went beyond rage.

  “It’s been a long time, professor.”

  As a greeting ‘it’ sent a red fireball straight to Decen’s face, but it got chilled out completely by his hand.

  The Profane One. Someone as insidious as its title would suggest.

  Just as the possessed kid tried to send another spell Zara woke up from her slumber. With no pause, like a bomb, she went flying after she made an explosion at her feet using only her spiritual power.

  Her target was the one Decen battled. She kicked him with such force that Veder’s bones audibly cracked.

  The possession ended with a fiery attack, Zara’s flames of orange and green burning at the Profane One.

  Decen, surprised, caught Zara before she fell from the wall. Her eyes kept closing and opening as she was still fighting against the drug.

  Decen looked around him. He saw Efar surpassing his mental blocks, Alberto taking risks and Zara going beyond her limitations.

  He was worried for their well-being, but he also was happy beyond belief.

  Half an hour later, he was tending to the kids and binding the perpetrators when heavy footsteps resounded.

  It was Gard and his men. He was visibly angry, but that anger melted when he saw his dear daughter safe. He didn’t even bother to look at anyone or anything around him, or even tell why he had Blest, the mute, beat so hard it was surprising he was still alive.

  “It was them again, wasn’t it?” asked Gard as he took Zara up.

  “Yes.”

  Gard thought about something while looking at Zara.

  Onoa is no longer safe. Until he kills every last cultist these kids would be in danger at every step. Especially now that they are involved. Fox was of the opinion that one must go through fire to be better, but Gard disagreed.

  “How about we send them on that delegation?” said Decen as he instructed a soldier to take Efar.

  Gard looked uncomfortable.

  “We can’t keep them here forever. Besides, most of their training is done and the city already sent someone to spy on us.”

  “That is too soon, don’t you think?”

  “It’s because we’ve dealt with these cultists far better than they. As far as we are concerned, Sirius is our best solution. They will think twice before dealing with us.”

  Gard sighed. “We will talk about it. I’ll summon a council soon.”