《Misbegotten Memories》 Chapter 1 Volithur shivered at the head of the line as the Steward of the Lord General scrutinized him. Invisible strands of power, strong as steel cables, hauled Volithur about in a lurching circle, turning him like an animal on display. Each tug came without warning and threw him off balance. Volithur barely managed to stay upright as the Steward scowled down at him. The inspection of the youths had lasted all of that morning. They had been roused from whatever fitful slumber they had managed on the marble floor of the packed county courthouse, then sorted by the rough hands of soldiers into various lines. The very young were placed into the hovering transport ships of the invaders and flown away with promises that they would receive new families soon who would be stronger than their old ones. If that hadn¡¯t been sufficiently problematic, the most attractive of the young women were rounded up and taken away by a hungry-looking officer to a fate Volithur preferred not to imagine. The youths with the sturdiest frames were pressured into volunteering to enter into military service with the foreigners who had killed their parents, destroyed their homes, and stolen their futures. Most succumbed to the pressure to sign on with the invaders. After all, they had all seen how pointless resistance against these terrifying gods was. Volithur, however, found himself sorted into another group altogether. One that marched to a nearby cathedral to be appraised one at a time by a representative of the enemy general. Those who were deemed worthy left the chamber through the rear entrance. Everyone else had to retreat to the antechamber, where sneering officers selected from among their numbers. The night of poor sleep, without blankets on cold marble, had been poor preparation for a day of standing. Volithur barely kept his feet as invisible cables at one shoulder and the opposite foot tugged him to squarely face the Steward once more. ¡°This one will be presented to the Lord General as a potential ward. Exit to the rear.¡± Volithur stumbled forward at an invisible hand to the back, then continued towards the rear door on momentum. Before he could question the turn of events that saw him as part of a tiny minority, one of the soldiers waiting in the back room seized Volithur by the wrist and pulled him inside. He found himself sitting on a rug with his back against the wall, a glass of water in his hands and a ration bar placed in front of him. Only three other children were there, two boys and a girl, all on the cusp of adulthood like himself. The soldier eyed Volithur with naked skepticism. ¡°Congratulations, young man. You are to be the ward of a great man. If you are mindful of your place and work hard, you may even rise in rank to join the Lord General¡¯s army. A bad attitude will see you out on the streets or six feet under. Drink and eat for now. You will need your strength soon.¡± It was the first time one of the invaders had ever addressed him as a human. ¡°My parents are dead,¡± he said. ¡°Their heads crushed when they tried to surrender.¡± The soldier snorted, then turned and spat. ¡°The Jinn would have done worse. Eat up now.¡± After a moment, Volithur did so. The last several days had been difficult. First, explosions had rocked their neighborhood. Then the power went out, cutting off any source of news. A day later, public water stopped working. Volithur¡¯s parents had a small amount of canned drinks and bottled water, but it didn¡¯t last long. The local stores had been looted before they even thought to stock up. They had gotten in their car to leave the city, then had to turn back for home when it became clear that roadblocks had sealed off every means of escape. Piles of vehicles, tanks, and concrete barriers were erected as if by magic to create strategic choke points. Traffic jams were everywhere. Back home, they heard the intermittent sounds of explosions and gunfire. No one knew what was happening. Then their door had been ripped from its hinges and they had been forced outside to kneel in the street with all their neighbors. Soldiers with hard eyes in unfamiliar uniforms had gone down the line of sobbing civilians and executed the majority. Volithur¡¯s parents wailed their surrender and begged mercy for their child. Their second request had been granted, at least. Volithur was brought to the courthouse with the other youths. And now he was to be ward to some ¡®great man¡¯. Volithur wanted to fight back against the invaders, but he had no power to resist them. All he had was grief and fear. And physical needs. Volithur drank the entire bottle of water down in desperate gulps before tearing into the ration bar. Then he closed his eyes, numb, as he drifted into a dark sleep. Volithur startled awake at the sound of a loud clap. The soldier who had given him food and water stood in the center of the room. Around the perimeter sat six youths now, counting himself. Four boys and two girls. The soldier motioned for them to stand. ¡°You will be formally accepting your wardships in a few minutes. This may be the only time you interact with the Lord General in your entire lives. Do not make a bad impression. He is a great man and does not tolerate disrespect. If any of you are entertaining ideas of refusing his offer, tell me now and we will arrange for you to join the military recruits instead.¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! No one said a word as they slumped against the walls in defeat. ¡°Good,¡± the soldier said. ¡°The ceremony is simple. You come forward when called for, take a knee and keep your eyes low in respect. Look at the feet of your betters, as they say. When you are asked if you agree to be his ward, you say ¡®yes, Lord General¡¯. Very simple. Three words. If he asks you any other questions, answer with as few words as possible, always ending with ¡®Lord General¡¯. Once you are told to stand, you sign a contract. If you are offered congratulations, at that time you would respond ¡®thank you, Master Thrakkar¡¯. Slightly different form of address to reflect your new relationship. Simple stuff. Do not mess it up.¡± The six of them were lined up and marched back into the main chamber, where a middle-aged man with stern, sharp features sat upon the velvet chair of the holy avatar. The seat kept eternally empty at the front of the cathedral for the god of Volithur¡¯s people to claim upon his descent from heaven. To sit in it was blasphemy of the highest order. In ages past, people were executed for the offense. In the modern age, it was punished with a hefty fine and social ostracization. Yet what could anyone do? With the power the invaders held, they might as well be gods. Beside the seated man, the Steward stood with a bundle of paperwork spread over the alter. ¡°First child, step forward,¡± the Steward intoned. A girl stumbled forward a few steps, no doubt prodded by the man¡¯s power, and collapsed to both knees, where she remained. ¡°She has the looks favored by your thirty-second son,¡± the Steward said, this time with a smooth obsequiousness rather than the commanding tone he used with others. ¡°I had thought to place her as a ward with your first household, placed under the castellan.¡± The Lord General¡¯s eyes bored into the girl. ¡°Agreed.¡± ¡°Your name, child?¡± ¡°Liavon,¡± she whispered. The Steward made a note of that. ¡°Liavon, do you agree to serve Lord General Thrakkar Shaocheth as a loyal ward, obeying all orders from his Lordship and his representatives?¡± ¡°I agree,¡± she whispered. The Steward paused. ¡°My words were on behalf of the Lord General. You are to address him.¡± ¡°I agree, Lord General,¡± the girl whispered. ¡°Stand and sign,¡± the Steward commanded. The girl climbed to her feet, scribbled her name with the offered pen, and then allowed herself to be guided away. ¡°Next,¡± the Steward said and one of the boys began to walk forward. ¡°Him next,¡± the Lord General said. Volithur glanced up and froze like a mouse faced with a snake. The Lord General¡¯s finger pointed directly at him. He swallowed once, then took shaky steps forward and took a knee. His eyes fixed on the Lord General¡¯s bare feet as had been suggested. ¡°Look up at me,¡± the Lord General commanded. Volithur obeyed, almost losing his balance on his one knee in the process. His armpits were absolutely soaked, dripping cold droplets that ran down his arms all the way to his wrists. ¡°He has the look of Harridan,¡± the Lord General mused. The Steward nodded. ¡°He bears a startling resemblance to your late footman, Lord.¡± ¡°Does he have potential to match?¡± ¡°As much as any of these primitives display,¡± the Steward said. ¡°What is your name?¡± ¡°Volithur, Lord General.¡± The man pondered that from his seat. ¡°No more. You are now Harridan. Where did you plan to place this one? It would be insensitive to bring him to the second household where Harridan¡¯s mother still lives.¡± ¡°I had thought the fifth household, Lord. Placed under the marshal there.¡± ¡°That is reasonable,¡± the Lord General agreed. ¡°Make a note that I want him to be educated.¡± The Steward brought pen to paper. ¡°It is done, Lord.¡± ¡°Swear him in, then.¡± The Steward made eye contact with Volithur. ¡°Harridan, do you agree to serve Lord General Thrakkar Shaocheth as a loyal ward, obeying all orders from his Lordship and his representatives?¡± ¡°Yes, Lord General,¡± Volithur managed. ¡°Stand and sign,¡± the Steward commanded. The man held a pen out for Volithur to take, then surreptitiously pointed out the name at the top of the contract so that Volithur could correctly spell his new name. He printed the moniker on the paper and handed the pen back. As a soldier came to remove Volithur, the Lord General spoke. ¡°Congratulations, Ward Harridan.¡± ¡°Thank you, Lord General,¡± Volithur said. The Lord General nodded as if bestowing a great honor and turned his attention elsewhere. The soldier dragged Volithur into the back room once more. He found another bottle of water and ration bar. ¡°You¡¯re lucky,¡± the soldier said. ¡°You¡¯ll be eating good and receiving a true education.¡± Volithur stared at the cheerful face of the soldier. ¡°I already have an education. I was going to be an electronics technician.¡± The soldier¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°Oh my, you should not share such facts. Electronics are the type of thing the Jinn mess around with. If you go around talking about electronics, people will think you are an enemy sympathizer.¡± Volithur slumped down to slurp his water and eat the hard ration bar. He didn¡¯t know what sort of life he had been dragged into. The future hid behind a shroud of ignorance. He was something called a ward now, and was going to live in the ¡®fifth household¡¯ of a man revered by soldiers who could crush skulls with a thought. Everything he knew of these people suggested it would be a terrible existence for him. At the moment, though, he was numb and tired and hungry. Thoughts of rebellion would have to wait for later. Chapter 2 Hector gasped as he came awake to the strident beeps of his alarm, clutching at the remnants of the powerful dream that had just been ripped away from him. It had been so real, like he actually lived through it. He remembered the grief and the exhaustion and the discomfort, then the fear when faced with the Lord General. The cowardly acceptance of his renaming. The memory of that brought a surge of heat to Hector¡¯s chest. How dare the killers of his parents force a new name upon him? He ought to¡­. None of that was real, he thought. Hector pushed down the emotions and turned the alarm clock off. He had enough drama in his real life without getting sucked into the imaginary woes of a dream character. His father was unlikely to leave the hospital alive this time, his boss was playing hardball with the budget, and Jennifer had been trying to get back together with him. If anything, Volithur should be getting upset on Hector¡¯s behalf. Sorry, kid, I¡¯m going to focus on my own struggles for a while and probably forget all about your stuff. If I ever dream about being you again, though, I¡¯m going to strangle that Lord General Asshole. Hector rolled out of bed, limbered up his back with a couple of stretches, and shuffled to the bathroom for his morning routine. Not long after, he left his house with a bag over his shoulder. He drove a couple of miles to the gym he was a member of and used his electronic fob to gain entry. I bet the Lord General Asshole would hate key-less entry systems. He shook the thought out of his head, surprised the memories still stuck with him. Most dreams vanished from his mind within minutes of waking, with the exception of the nightmare where his teeth fell out. Maybe there were two exceptions now. He might prefer the teeth one if given the choice. At least that one was quick and done. It was a Wednesday, which meant resistance training was on the menu. Hector placed his bag in the locker room and claimed an open squat rack. Owing to the early hour, it was mostly old guys and one young fellow. Hector was not the young fellow, though he sometimes forgot that fact. He configured the hook height, placed a wooden box, and then did a few warm-up sets of box squats with just the bar. Then he began adding weight. Nothing too much, as his back was no longer as supple as it had once been and even minor injuries required weeks of healing. I can¡¯t believe I was dreaming about being a teenager this morning. I might sometimes forget that I¡¯m in my fifties now, but I never confuse myself for a kid. Following five sets of squats, Hector moved the bar out of the rack and strapped on a back brace. Then he proceeded to dead lift five sets at a moderate weight. When he finished that, he put away the bar and moved on to a bench press. Five sets of that and it was time for weighted pull-ups. With that out of the way, there was only one thing left. Hector grabbed a heavy kettle-bell in one hand, stood with a straight spine, and walked across the room and back. Then he switched hands and did the same thing again. A few more sets and he hit the shower. His gym clothes went away and out came khaki pants, a polo shirt, and nice steel-toed boots. Hector drove straight to the hospital and went inside to the room he was getting to know so well. His father lay insensate in his gown, the television tuned into some infomercial selling fancy pots and pans that did a decent job of drowning out the constant beeps and hisses of the environment. Terry Thoreaux looked like a disposed outer garment that his muscles had removed and left behind. Hector sighed as he sat beside his wheezing father, wondering how long they had. Wondering if it was more selfish to want the days that remained to be many or to be few. This weak, skeletal figure had very little resemblance to the powerful figure he had known his whole life. Cancer would do that to a body. Drain away all the strength and vitality until all that remained was a shell of the person that could barely gasp in the next breath. Eventually, Hector knew, it wouldn¡¯t even be able to do that. He tried not to imagine the many and varied options for final moments. Passing peacefully while asleep somehow seemed the most terrifying. You just expired without even being aware that it was happening. His mother had gone that way, taken by a heart attack in her sleep. Cindy Thoreaux never even knew she was at risk for a cardiac event. She went to sleep with plans to clean up the motor home in preparation for camping season and that was it. Had she known it was coming, maybe she would have had something important to say or an important memory to reflect upon or even just the chance to stare down death in defiance as it came for her. Instead, she just stopped existing. Hector didn¡¯t know that fighting a losing battle until the last moment was any better, but surely it couldn¡¯t be any worse. The joke from when he had been a kid was that the best way to go out was by heart attack as an eighty year old banging an eighteen year old babe. It had been funny back then. Now, he couldn¡¯t help but notice several problems with it. First, eighty didn¡¯t seem all that old to him any longer. Second, the extreme age difference had more than a little ick factor. And third, there would be no dignity whatsoever in a corpse that expired mid-action. A quiet knock on the open door caught his attention. A gray-haired doctor approximately Hector¡¯s age entered the room. ¡°How are you today, Mr. Thoreaux?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine, Doctor. The real question, how is the patient?¡± The doctor nodded. ¡°Stable. That¡¯s about the best we can hope for at this point. Have you thought more about moving him to hospice?¡± Hector felt his heart flutter. ¡°I don¡¯t know about that, doc. I live alone and I can¡¯t take off too many more days from work this year.¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Hospice doesn¡¯t have to be in your home. There are places that specialize in providing palliative care as the end nears. There would be dedicated staff present to ease any physical pain or emotional distress he might experience.¡± ¡°I know, I know,¡± Hector muttered. ¡°He¡¯s not going to get better. The masses are occluding the blood supply to several organs and he is too weak to survive surgery and chemotherapy. I know it¡¯s a difficult decision, but the hospital is not a peaceful environment to pass in.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll give it some more thought, doc,¡± Hector blurted out. The doctor sighed. ¡°That¡¯s all I can ask for, Mr. Thoreaux. I¡¯ve got to make my rounds.¡± Hector let his head sink down to his hands. He knew the doctors and nurses were right. He just couldn¡¯t give up on his dad. His family had never been large, not even before the tragedies began. His younger brother had died in a car wreck two weeks before high school graduation. His favorite uncle overdosed when a mid-life crisis led him to trying everything he hadn¡¯t done when younger. His mother with the heart attack. Jennifer separated from him because he ¡®worked too much¡¯, though who knew if they were reconciling or moving forward with a divorce. Now his dad. A phantom pain stabbed him in the chest as he vividly recalled seeing the heads of his parents crunch into gory balls. Not my parents, he reminded himself. Those were Volithur¡¯s parents and Volithur wasn¡¯t real. ¡°Hey there, kiddo,¡± his father wheezed, blinking up at him. ¡°Been here long?¡± ¡°Just sat down, dad,¡± he responded, banishing all traces of grief from his features. ¡°I was really looking forward to seeing the lady on TV talk about how easy these pans are to clean, but we can chat if you like.¡± ¡°Cleaning pans. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?¡± Hector winced. ¡°Dad, I¡¯m fifty-two years old, I have no idea what the kids call anything.¡± ¡°They say ¡®fire¡¯ when they like something,¡± his dad wheezed. ¡°Not in a crowded theater, I hope.¡± His dad smiled for a few seconds before the energy drained out of him. ¡°Funny thing, Hector. Slept all day and still tired. At least the dreams have been good.¡± Hector forced a laugh. ¡°I had quite the dream myself last night.¡± ¡°There you go. Mine have been so realistic, though. Might be because my time is close. One last adventure while I¡¯m bedridden.¡± His dad smiled up at the ceiling for a moment. ¡°Got lucky with a cute girl. I woke just as we finished up.¡± ¡°I swear, dad, if you start telling me the details of your wet dreams I am going to have the funeral director dress you up like a woman.¡± ¡°Guys from the lodge would get a hoot out of that. I do have a serious request, though.¡± Hector leaned in closer, caught between a goofy grin and serious expression. The ¡®serious request¡¯ could go either way with his dad. ¡°Put a banana in my trousers for the showing. I told all my friends I was hung like a stallion.¡± Hector snickered as he sat back. ¡°I just might carry through on one of these requests.¡± ¡°Which one would you pick? Chicklets in place of my teeth?¡± ¡°While that would be hilarious, that would be a little too involved. And we both know posing your body to do a keg stand isn¡¯t very realistic. I think I have to go with the girl mannequin.¡± ¡°Dressed in sexy lingerie.¡± ¡°Of course. My daddy didn¡¯t raise no fool.¡± ¡°Debatable.¡± Hector sighed. ¡°It really is. Jennifer has been calling me.¡± His dad grunted. ¡°I guess she got all the wild experiences she wanted when we were separated and wants a stable financial situation again.¡± Hector shook his head. ¡°It would save a lot of money if we called off the divorce.¡± ¡°Money,¡± his dad spat. ¡°Can¡¯t take it with you. Find a better woman.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know that I would trust anyone after what happened.¡± Hector snorted. ¡°Maybe I should just dream about women like you do.¡± ¡°It was something, Hector. Not just the canoodling either. I was young, the future was boundless, and life was beautiful. I wasn¡¯t sure how long I wanted to put up with the oxygen hose up my nose and needles in my arms, but every time I close my eyes I have the most wonderful experiences. It¡¯s amazing.¡± ¡°That¡¯s great, dad.¡± ¡°What was your dream?¡± ¡°It was more of a nightmare, to tell the truth,¡± Hector said. ¡°Too much negativity in your life right now. I want good things for you, Hector. Do me a favor and make sure you find your happiness.¡± Hector glanced away, his eyes hot. ¡°I have a great job.¡± ¡°Yeah. Work.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t start sounding like Jennifer.¡± ¡°Never.¡± His dad muttered the last word as he drifted off to sleep. Chapter 3 Volithur climbed into the hovering transport and sat where directed. The soldiers around him ignored his existence other than to block his movements when he approached anywhere he wasn¡¯t supposed to be. He didn¡¯t quite understand his social position relative to them, but he seemed to be simultaneously higher and lower than them. Another of the youths taken on by the Lord General as a ward sat beside him. The brawny boy Thassily had been assigned to the fifth household as well, reporting to the marshal but without the positive note written in his file. Apparently Thassily didn¡¯t look like any recently deceased subordinates, so no unearned benefits for him. Also no mandatory name change. Maybe that balanced out in the end. A shout came from the front of the transport. ¡°Lock it up!¡± The soldier closest to the door swung it shut, placed a crossbar, and slid a pin in place. ¡°Locked up tight!¡± The person up front responded. ¡°Prepare for movement!¡± With that warning delivered, the transport shot straight upward, pushing Volithur down into his seat as if he were rocketing into space. The pressure slowly declined and then they started moving horizontally. Volithur cocked his head as far as possible and stared through the nearest window. They were moving incredibly fast through the sky, the ground racing past beneath them at speeds that put civilian aircraft to shame. While the wooden transport vehicle didn¡¯t look particularly aerodynamic or even airtight, it moved at a rapid pace without the slightest turbulence. The only indication of their motion was the sense of acceleration and deceleration. Thassily cried quietly beside him and Volithur offered the only comfort he felt capable of at the moment by pretending not to see. Instead he watched the ground blur as they approached a giant spherical shimmer in the sky. They were surrounded by other transports. All of which began to slow and then stopped to hover in front of the reflective surface of the sphere. When it seemed that the airspace could get no more crowded, a figure Volithur recognized appeared in the air before the sphere, suspended by nothing more substantial than willpower. Lord General Thrakkar Shaocheth floated towards the sphere and its surface deformed inward into a concave slope. The transports began to creep forward behind the general. Slowly, the wall of the sphere moved inward like a beach ball being pressed inward along one side until it formed a cave. The cave grew larger as they entered inside, becoming a cavern that seemed every bit as large as the external dimensions of the sphere. Vehicles continued to enter through what was now a circular entrance to the dark interior. When the flow of transports ceased, the circle leading to the light of outside shrank upon itself into a pinprick and disappeared, leaving them in darkness relieved only by the dim lanterns of the transports around them. Volithur stared about him in awe, unable to comprehend what exactly was happening. He assumed they were teleporting elsewhere. Another planet? Another universe? The circle of light returned, rapidly growing in size until the shimmering skin of the sphere disappeared from sight entirely. The transport then began to move once more, first slowly as it navigated free of the pack of vehicles, then fast as before, causing the ground to blur past. They flew for less than an hour before slowing on approach to a small town enclosed by tall walls. Figures stationed at the various guard towers lifted into the air under their own power to scrutinize the approaching transport before dismissing it as a non-threat and sinking back to their posts. The transport stopped to hover over the grounds of a nearby palace at the center of the town, then lowered itself to touch down on a stone patio. The pilot called again from the front. ¡°We¡¯re down! Release the hatch!¡± The soldiers opened the door and began to hop down onto the ground. Volithur followed them out and turned in a large circle to take in the grounds. The palace grounds were ridiculously immense. A herd of sheep were grazing on the grass. There were several ponds where geese congregated. Warriors sparred with padded spears and wooden practice swords, on the ground and in the air. Outbuildings following the same stepped pyramid design as the main complex swarmed with activity. Meanwhile, the main pyramidal palace squatted like a giant above it all. The pilot hopped out of the transport and snapped his fingers. ¡°Hey, ward one and ward two, I don¡¯t have all day. I need to get you registered with the marshal before I can go off duty.¡± Volithur and Thassily followed the pilot towards the palace proper at a brisk march. They walked under an arch set in the outer wall of the lowest tier of the pyramid and continued inside for several minutes until they reached a square courtyard that extended several stories up, balconies on the higher tiers of the pyramid looking down onto the space. The ceiling let in light, glittering like glass as he caught sight of people all the way up there walking atop it. ¡°What are you doing inside the central complex, soldier?¡± The pilot turned on his heel and folded into a deep bow. ¡°Master Castellan, I am here on orders of the Lord General to deliver two wards into service under the Marshal.¡± The man who had accosted them pressed his lips together into a firm line. ¡°I of course would never countermand his orders. However, the family is hosting guests presently. The presence of soldiers and untrained wards gives a poor impression. Kindly wait in the combat school and I will inform the Marshal of your arrival.¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°At your command, Master Castellan.¡± The pilot straightened up from his bow, turned on his heel, and began to march back the way they had come. ¡°Hold,¡± the castellan snapped, bringing the pilot to a jarring halt. ¡°Do these wards have no decorum whatsoever?¡± The pilot rushed back, bowed as deeply as he did briefly, and faced the two newcomers. ¡°Wards, please bow to the master and say ¡®at your command, Master Castellan¡¯.¡± The two of them complied after a beat, whereupon the castellan sniffed. ¡°Soldier, I would like to impress the importance of proper behavior upon these two. See to it that they are motivated.¡± The pilot hesitated, mouth open. ¡°You have an objection, soldier?¡± ¡°Uh, my sincere apologies, Master Castellan. These two are from the other world. They do not know our culture yet.¡± ¡°And?¡± The pilot sighed. ¡°I will see that they are punished for their breach of etiquette.¡± ¡°You should share in their punishment, soldier, for speaking out of turn.¡± The pilot bowed and issued another ¡®at your command¡¯ before turning to leave, this time with the wards in tow. Thassily rumbled a question as they reached the outside once more. ¡°Are we going to be punished for not knowing the rules?¡± ¡°One thing you need to get used to very quickly around here is that the rules are set by those above you. If you want any reprieve at all, you need to gain as much power as you possibly can.¡± The pilot sniffed. ¡°For example, I will be skipping out on my punishment because I¡¯m a level five cultivator and trained pilot. The castellan won¡¯t be pleased, but he will forget about the incident so long as he doesn¡¯t lose face in public. The two of you aren¡¯t even awakened yet. You¡¯re level zero. Everyone you see here has the power to make your life miserable. Your lives are guaranteed for a time because of your wardships, but you don¡¯t want to have enemies when that protection runs out.¡± Volilthur clenched his jaw. ¡°How do we get to higher levels?¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t you worry about that. You are going to be given as much training as you can handle. If you have ambition and even a tiny bit of talent, you will be force-fed knowledge of proper technique until you want to run away.¡± They arrived at a smaller pyramid, this one only two tiers tall. The pilot walked up to a man cleaning a chalkboard. ¡°Clerk, I¡¯m delivering two new wards and their paperwork to you.¡± ¡°To me? They need to see the marshal.¡± ¡°A duty which I am delegating to you as the castellan forbade us entry.¡± The Barracks Clerk rolled his eyes. ¡°They can wait quietly in the corner.¡± ¡°The Castellan wants them to be punished for not knowing or showing proper decorum.¡± The Barracks Clerk put hands on his hips and faced the pilot. ¡°And what am I to take that to mean? Are they to be caned in public or will a stern talk suffice?¡± The pilot shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s your call to make now. Good luck, wards.¡± Left alone with the clerk, the two of them stared at the newest in a long line of strangers to hold their lives in his hands. The Barracks Clerk picked up the paperwork that had been left behind and glanced through it. ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem fair to punish the two of you for being foreign. Would be bad on you if the castellan thought you got off easy, though. I¡¯ll just give you a week on septic duty. That seems cruel enough to make whatever point ought to be made.¡± The Barracks Clerk erased another section of blackboard and then wrote their names under a column with the heading of ¡®septic¡¯. It took Volilthur a second to recognize his new name up there. Harridan. A stranger¡¯s name that from now on would be his identity. ¡°The new duty rotation starts tomorrow, so don¡¯t stress it much. You will hate the work because of the smell and the humiliation, but it won¡¯t be harmful to you. Since I don¡¯t want to babysit you until the marshal comes down from his office, I¡¯m going to put you two up in a room with a cultivation manual.¡± The Barracks Clerk blinked. ¡°You two can read, right?¡± ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Volilthur said. ¡°Oh, definitely do not use that form of address unless you want to be mistaken for Jinn sympathizers. In general, if you seek to show your respect, you call someone ¡®master¡¯ followed by their job title. That would be ¡®Master Clerk¡¯ for me. Though I would be horribly embarrassed by that kind of thing. Just ¡®Clerk Anadra¡¯ is fine.¡± The clerk went into a library room, pulled down two roughly used books with the bindings falling apart, and tucked the two wards into a small room with a couple of tables and a tea kettle. When they were alone, they raced to sit and open the sloppily illustrated books. Volithur¡¯s eyes scanned the first page, taking in the three-dimensional rendering of a cube with each of the six sides labeled. One wall said ¡®mind¡¯, the one next to it ¡®body¡¯, the one beside body said ¡®aura¡¯, and the one between aura and mind said ¡®domain¡¯. The top bore the label ¡®realm¡¯ and the bottom ¡®externality¡¯. The entire image bore the simple label ¡®soul¡¯. He began to read through the paragraphs of text below, which explained that the human soul was a hollow cube composed of what was called, for want of a better word, willpower. The energies of existence flowed throughout the universe and even into the soul of living beings. Willpower allowed for a limited manipulation of those energies, though its effectiveness was limited so long as a soul contained impure blends of energy. There were descriptions on what each of the walls, or apertures, made possible, but Volithur skipped past the words and the images in search of what surely must be there. He found it several chapters further along. The method to attune a soul to a single form of energy. A method that, when successfully cultivated, would transform one from a baseline human into a Xian wielding cosmic energy. Volithur¡¯s heart beat rapidly as he read. Chapter 4 Hector squeezed his eyes shut, struggling in vain to return himself to the dream that had just ended. He wanted to know what Volithur did with magic powers. He could see the arc of a grand revenge story, with the Lord General Asshole falling at the feet of the boy. This may be the first time he¡¯d ever experienced an episodic dream. Never before had he gone to sleep and picked up right where he left off. Maybe he would manage to do it again tonight. He needed to know what happened in the next part of the story. For a moment, Hector considered throwing off his morning schedule to dive back into bed in the hopes that his subconscious would return him to the narrative. The moment passed. His father was dying, today was cardio day, and there was nothing he could learn in a dream that didn¡¯t come from his own mind. The book would probably say something silly like ¡®concentrate really hard¡¯ or ¡®visualize what you want to happen¡¯. Or maybe even some new age chakra nonsense. His morning passed quickly, starting with fifty minutes on a rowing machine at the gym. Then came the hospital visit which his father only rose to consciousness briefly for to mumble incoherently before drifting into slumber once more. Then it was time for work. Hector entered the warehouse where he had spent most of his career and immediately discovered it was going to be a bad day. His administrative assistant informed him that they had two no-shows for work that morning, the pallet wrapper was busted again, and someone had flushed a clogged toilet until water covered the men¡¯s room floor. ¡°Start making calls. Get two bodies in here to help out. If no one agrees to come in, get Jared to transfer someone over from operations for the day. He owes us after we expedited that rush order last week. Remind him of that if he digs his heels in.¡± Hector stomped over to the pallet wrapper, where George and Timmy were staring at the machine. ¡°Someone ran into it with a forklift,¡± George announced. Hector studied the main body, which was tilting like the Leaning Tower. ¡°I was hoping something was stuck under the turntable.¡± ¡°The frame bent,¡± George observed. ¡°Then Timmy turned it on and the engine burnt out.¡± ¡°Right. We¡¯ll be manual wrapping until we get a fix or replacement then.¡± Hector didn¡¯t bother to berate Timmy. The man didn¡¯t intentionally cause these types of situations. He was a good worker so long as someone with more common sense than a rock was supervising him. The last thing Hector needed was another able-bodied employee calling it quits. Hector eyed George. ¡°I am going to need you to handle loading today.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been loading three days already! I¡¯m supposed to have a turn on packaging today!¡± ¡°I know, George. I need someone I can trust running this section today.¡± ¡°This is ridiculous. The damn kids get out of all the hard work because they can¡¯t be relied on and I get punished for doing a good job.¡± Hector folded his arms. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a choice.¡± ¡°Oh, great, a god damn Hector choice.¡± ¡°The toilet overflowed in the men¡¯s room. I don¡¯t know how bad it is, but it¡¯s an OSHA violation for sure. I was on my way to handle that situation after talking to you, but we can switch jobs if you want.¡± George squinted at him. ¡°Who do I get on my team?¡± ¡°You can have Timmy and Roy.¡± One hard but dumb worker and one lazy guy. It should be a balanced team, considering who they had to work with.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°I don¡¯t want Roy. Give me Suzanne.¡± Hector took a steadying breath. ¡°Fine. But now I have to figure out who is in charge of receiving.¡± ¡°It¡¯s all shitty jobs today,¡± George laughed, his attitude much improved after getting his way. He made a quick stop to the packaging section and informed Roy he was working receiving. The scrawny, heavily-pierced punk make a pair of devil horns with one hand. ¡°Rock on, boss man.¡± Then came the toilet problem. It was a lot of water. Enough water that you had to question if someone had made a mess intentionally. Hector used a mop to push the water towards the drains, then taped a home-made ¡®out of order¡¯ sign to the impacted stall. He filled the bucket with bleach water and did a thorough once-over of the entire floor before putting up a ¡®warning: wet floor¡¯ cone. Following that, he put in a service request with the facilities group to have a toilet unclogged. Alice stopped by his desk as he was wrapping that up. ¡°I have Vic coming in, but I had to tell him you would give him tomorrow off instead. If you aren¡¯t okay with that, you will have to tell him you changed your mind. Operations is sending One Arm Walt over.¡± The rest of the day, Hector split his time between solving problems for his people and jumping in to assist with the work. He had to reschedule his budget meeting for another day because of everything happening, but chances were the meeting wouldn¡¯t get him any more funding than senior management had earmarked for his group. The warehouse didn¡¯t make the company money. Sales and operations were the darlings of the executives, while warehouse only received attention if they failed to get everything on a truck by the deadline. Several times throughout the day Hector had to make trips around his territory to break up conversations that were disrupting work. ¡°This ain¡¯t a social club, ladies,¡± he would announce while snapping his fingers at the guys. Things were behind when the morning shift ended, which placed the evening crew in a bad mood as they knew chances were good they would be staying late. ¡°Why are we running slow on a Thursday, Hector? Did half the morning crew sleep in to score extra dream time?¡± ¡°There were two no-shows. I haven¡¯t heard their excuses yet. Let¡¯s just hit it hard this shift so we can get out of here at a reasonable time. I¡¯ll order pizzas as a reward for everyone in this group showing up for their assigned shifts.¡± The next eight hours flew by in a rush. There was less chatting than on the first shift, but he did have problems with a couple of the guys staring off into space, lost in thought. They managed to finish up before midnight. As Hector was locking up the warehouse, a younger guy named Jeremy waited for him by the time clock. ¡°Hey Boss, everyone was curious but no one got around to asking about your situation.¡± Hector didn¡¯t immediately respond. He kept a strict boundary between work and personal, so he wasn¡¯t sure what situation the guys had heard about, or ¨C more importantly ¨C how they had heard about it. Had someone discovered his dad was in the hospital again? Or was the Jennifer drama becoming public knowledge? ¡°What situation are you asking about?¡± ¡°Your dreams.¡± Hector¡¯s eyebrows shot up halfway to his hairline. ¡°My dreams? Why would you want to know about my dreams?¡± Jeremy snorted. ¡°Everyone is talking about their dreams. Even the news is talking about it. The whole world started having crazy dreams. I mean, when I sleep I¡¯m something called a Jinn. Not like Genie from Aladdin, like a human who can manipulate reality with legal energy. Before waking up for my shift, I was watching my dream dad design a crazy complex circuit he was going to upload his mind into. Fred is a vampire in his dreams. A freaking vampire.¡± The word Jinn echoed in Hector¡¯s mind. He had heard that word used very recently. Or, rather, Volilthur heard that word used. The Jinn were the enemies of the Xian. According to one random Xian soldier, the Jinn would have done worse to his ¨C no, Volithur¡¯s ¨C community if they had been the conquerors instead. ¡°Everyone is having these dreams?¡± ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s like watching an episode of a TV show in your head every time you go to sleep. I really don¡¯t blame the morning shift for screwing off of work. I mean, what if this only goes on for so long before the dreams stop? Waking up for work might mean you never get to live out the whole story.¡± The kid¡¯s smile widened. ¡°So what¡¯s your situation, Boss? Are you an old man working in a warehouse there, too?¡± Hector swallowed. In spite of all his misgivings about sharing personal information with his coworkers, he felt he owed a debt in that moment. The experience of being Volithur had been validated, and that meant more to him than he would ever have imagined possible. Standing to his full height, Hector announced his ¡®situation¡¯. ¡°I am training to be a Xian.¡± ¡°Dude,¡± the kid crowed, ¡°we¡¯re like mortal enemies in our dreams!¡± Chapter 5 Volithur¡¯s heart beat rapidly as he began to read. There were breathing exercises to calm the mind and mental exercises to clear the mind. Then you had to expel mixed energies from your soul through one of the six apertures and replace them with pure cosmic energy. There was a chapter dedicated to using the bodily aperture, another for using the mental aperture, and a third that discussed the aura. The text explained that the body aperture provided the quickest and simplest method to get started, but that it required expensive resources. Volithur dismissed that method as unrealistic. He had no resources. The chapter on mental cultivation proved more realistic. He had to contemplate the concepts behind cosmic energy in order to gain insight into it. With that insight achieved, he could filter incoming energy to only permit the right kind to pass through his mind. The downside was that the process would be slow. Mental energy did a great job of filtering incoming energies through conceptual frameworks, but the price for the high level of purity was low intake volume. The third method spoke about using the aura as simply as Volithur would about using his left and right hand. Lacking any awareness of his aura, the instructions proved useless to him. Volithur flipped to the back of the book to begin reading through the appendices. There was one on common elixir recipes. Another discussed physical exercises to prepare the body for cosmic energy infusion. And the final appendix provided a series of reflections on the nature of cosmic energy for use in mental cultivation. ¡°Cosmic energy exists beyond heaven and earth, thought and matter, space and time, life and death. It is the child of chaos and order.¡± Reading the reflection aloud, Volilthur couldn¡¯t help but laugh. This was supposed to teach him how to use the magic of the Xian? ¡°Harridan, don¡¯t mock their teachings,¡± Thassily whispered. It took a moment for Volilthur to recognize his new name. ¡°Does it make any sense to you?¡± The other boy¡¯s jaw clenched. ¡°It will, eventually. I am going to become powerful, Harridan, and I am going to kill the Lord General. This book will tell me how to do that.¡± Volilthur shook his head and continued reading the reflections. ¡®Cosmic energy feels like nothing in particular and everything at once. Every other energy is birthed from it. Every other energy feeds on it. It is eternal and self-perpetuating.¡¯¡± Several more entries read similarly, grandiose odes to the great and wonderful cosmic energy. It sounded like propaganda. Volithur skimmed over the reflections until one caught his eye. ¡®Cosmic energy hums like background noise you¡¯ve heard your whole life. It is hard to sense because of its ever-presence. I only managed the feat after I realized why all the descriptions are stated as contradictory couplets. Cosmic energy is complete unto itself and the only way to experience it is to split it open, whereupon it naturally forms into diametrical opposites. The challenge of the Xian, then, is to recognize the undifferentiated form and absorb it in its completeness.¡¯ He reread that passage several times before flipping back to the chapter on mental cultivation. He needed to do the calming breaths, meditatively empty his mind, energize his mind until he felt hollow, then hold the concept of cosmic energy as he let the suction from his empty soul pull energy through the conceptual filter. Volithur spent close to an hour just emptying his mind only to discover he had no idea how to ¡®energize his mind¡¯. According to the text, every human could move energy from the soul out of the apertures in an instinctual action. Intentionally invoking that action had not been described at any point, leaving Volithur at a loss. He was saved from any further frustration by the arrival of the marshal. The clerk preceded a bear of a man into the room. ¡°On your feet, wards. Master Marshal is here to accept you into the fifth household of the Lord General.¡± They scrambled to their feet as the large man studied them. ¡°I¡¯ve seen worse,¡± he pronounced. ¡°The castellan wants you punished and I pick my battles with him carefully. Clerk Anadra set you to septic duty for two weeks, so that will stand. It gives me time to prepare you to join the training program. Anadra, give them a quarter vial of moon water elixir daily for one week, starting today. The two of you are to practice the bodily cultivation method to absorb cosmic energy into your soul. Your success at this will determine how generous I am with resources going forward. That is all.¡± The clerk gestured impatiently for their attention. ¡°Let¡¯s show proper decorum by bowing and addressing our superior, yes?¡± The three of them all bowed deeply and intoned an ¡®at your command, Master Marshal¡¯. The marshal left the room at a quick pace, grumbling to himself about useless recruits.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Is moon water a good elixir? I didn¡¯t see it listed in the book,¡± Thassily said. Clerk Anadra shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s garbage. Commoner children are given it to practice drawing in cosmic energy. You have to start somewhere, though.¡± Shortly, they each held a glass vial stoppered with a waxed cork. Volilthur read through the instructions once more on bodily cultivation and then pulled the cork and downed the liquid. Then, while his body absorbed the contents of his stomach, Volithur and Thassily ran laps around the exterior of the building, pausing at each corner to drop and perform as many push-ups as they could manage before sprinting off on the next leg of their lap. The physical exertion, combined with a calm mental state, would let their body borrow energy from their soul. The elixir they¡¯d consumed would saturate their body with cosmic energy that would replenish what had been borrowed from their soul. As the mix of energies in their souls shifted to have a larger component of cosmic energy compared to other varieties, they would become more strongly attuned to the energy they sought to master. Then their bodies and minds would become influenced by the cosmic energy, making future cultivation easier. It would create a positively reinforcing cycle of self-improvement. Over time, the energy mixture in their soul would come close to a hundred percent pure. Volilthur didn¡¯t stop the exercise until he felt on the verge of emptying his guts. He lay on the grass, clutching his abdomen, and tried to steady his breathing once more. It took a while for his body to return to some sort of equilibrium, and by that time he was vaguely aware of a pervasive emptiness, one that went beyond emotional exhaustion, an empty belly, and lack of purpose. It was an emptiness he would not have noticed before, but now it stood out to him as a phantom draw demanding recompense. Something within his body distorted, twisting free of reality to go elsewhere. The hollowness faded. The soul hunger had been sated. Volithur stared up at the sky which looked identical to that of his home world, wondering what the future entailed. He wanted his old life back so hard he would gladly sacrifice anything. But he had nothing to sacrifice. Even if he did, his old life was gone. Parents: dead. City: demolished. Friends: abducted. Society: defeated. Revenge sounded nice in theory. Hurt those who had hurt him. Only how could he ever achieve that? People who had been training for their entire lives weren¡¯t able to stand up to the Lord General. What chance did a nobody orphan from a powerless world stand? None. His best path forward was to stay out of trouble and scrounge up enough power to live a comfortable existence. Thassily could chase a self-destructive revenge fantasy if he wished. Volilthur had his feet firmly grounded in reality. He would survive. His thoughts drifted to the other youths who had been taken away. The ones who would become soldiers in the invading force that killed their parents. The ones who were made wards of minor officers. The ones who were taken to orphanages, presumably to be adopted by commoners. And the ones who had worse fates. He couldn¡¯t help any of them. He could help himself. Thassily appeared over him, a hand extended to help Volilthur up. ¡°Come on, Harridan, I heard them talking about dinner. We¡¯ll need to eat if we¡¯re going to get strong.¡± The two of them walked over to the barracks building and filled cheap tin bowls with hearty stew from a large tureen. The stew was packed with root vegetables, maize, mushrooms, lentils, and peppers. There were also finely diced bits of poultry throughout, and the marrow-filled thigh bone of some beast lay exposed. They feasted and drank mugs of water until they felt sick. The sergeant in charge of training met them and then did a quick round of introductions. So many names were spoken that Volilthur managed to retain none of them. The welcomes were friendly enough and his belly full enough that he felt something akin to contentment. The sergeant guided the two of them towards a tiny room with a curtain for a door and two hammocks hung one on top of the other. ¡°This is your cell. Life in the barracks isn¡¯t fancy, as you can see. Three meals are provided daily. We issue fresh uniforms each evening before lights out. You will be assigned work details, training schedules, and free time by the marshal, myself, or one of the clerks. If you have any personal items you wish to keep, we can lock them up in storage. Otherwise, there is no expectation of privacy in the barracks. Thievery is discouraged, but a company of rowdy boys are going to take and break anything they can get their hands on.¡± Volilthur looked down at the thin evening clothes he had been wearing when he was dragged from his house. There was brain splatter on the pants. ¡°I have nothing worth keeping, Master Sergeant.¡± ¡°Look at you, showing decorum,¡± the sergeant drawled. ¡°Just call me ¡®Sergeant¡¯ without any of those airs. I¡¯m not a noble nor do I pretend to be one. I¡¯m a working man the same as you two, just a few steps further along my path. The business with the castellan will blow over quick. He won¡¯t consider you worth remembering once he feels you have been properly humbled. The marshal will take good care of you so long as you don¡¯t cause trouble. Now let¡¯s get you a change of clothes and show you to the showers. You will be needing to know their location tomorrow.¡± Chapter 6 Hector¡¯s eyes stared at the ceiling as his alarm blared in the background. Was it real? Does Volithur really exist? The revelation that the entire world experienced the hyper-realistic dreams would have been a severe enough shock, but then he had heard the Jinn mentioned. Volithur had been told to keep quiet about training to be an electronics technician because the Jinn used electronics, then Randy had mentioned he was a Jinn in his dreams, where his dream-dad was building circuits to upload his consciousness to. News articles advanced every crazy theory imaginable to explain the situation, but no one knew anything. Were these dreams some kind of collective unconscious phenomenon? Did people start recollecting the lives of individuals from other universes? Was reality actually a simulation and the latest code release had exposed a weird bug? Hector got out of bed, stretched his back, and went about his morning routine. Friday was his alternate day of weight lifting, which he usually looked forward to. Today it took a little more effort to stay focused, though. Dumbbell butterflies, Romanian dead lifts, single-arm dumbbell rows, cable triceps extensions, and overhead presses. Not as fun as it usually was, seeing his mind remained preoccupied. Because one strange little idea kept popping up in his head. Why didn¡¯t he try the cultivation exercises Volithur had been doing? The fact that humans throughout the whole planet were having these dreams meant there had to be something to them. Why not test out the method of using magic that had been taught to him? Hector ground his teeth as he showered, changed, and drove to the hospital. He wasn¡¯t going to play act at casting magic spells like a kid with an overactive imagination. He was a fifty-two year old man with a professional career who had serious issues facing him. Retreating into fantasies might be a valid coping mechanism for some people, but that wasn¡¯t him. He would deal with life head on. I can¡¯t believe Volithur is just going to let the Lord General Asshole get away with the death of his parents, he thought before pushing all thoughts of dream worlds out of his head. His father was awake and picking at a cupcake as he entered the room. ¡°Dad, you¡¯re eating again?¡± ¡°Hey, Hector. Got to keep my strength up.¡± Warmth suffused Hector. ¡°That¡¯s great. How are you feeling today?¡± ¡°Still breathing, if just barely.¡± ¡°Is the cupcake any good?¡± His dad waved a hand dismissively. ¡°My taste buds are broke. Everything tastes wrong.¡± ¡°I could try to get you something else if you like.¡± ¡°It¡¯s all the same to me.¡± ¡°Still, we might be able to find something for you to enjoy.¡± ¡°I enjoy plenty, my boy. Plenty.¡± His dad smirked in such a dirty way that Hector¡¯s mind made a series of instantaneous connections. ¡°You¡¯ve been having fun in your dreams.¡± ¡°Oh, yes, I have.¡± Hector nodded. ¡°That¡¯s great, dad. Why don¡¯t you tell me about it?¡± ¡°I¡¯m a young man in them. Deronto Yervol. Adopted into something called an Alfar tribe. Remember those Lord of the Rings movies? They¡¯re a little like the elves. No pointy ears or anything. Just really like living in harmony with nature. I spend all day climbing trees, gathering fruits and nuts, and hunting animals with my bare hands. Then I spend all night making love to a beautiful young woman. I have three more days to prove I can harness life energy if I want to stay with them. I can¡¯t let myself die before I know what happens to Deronto.¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. He filed away the details for later analysis. ¡°What was Deronto before he became one of these Alfar?¡± ¡°He¡¯s not an Alfar yet. Just a regular human like us. On the run from a coven of Strigoi that slaughtered his village.¡± ¡°Strigoi?¡± ¡°Vampires,¡± his father clarified. ¡°That was the first dream, running from Strigoi. Lina saved me. Tackled me into a river when she saw what was going down. Took me back to her village and they gave me seven days to change into one of them.¡± Hector clenched his hands together in his lap. ¡°Would you care to hear about my dreams?¡± ¡°I showed you mine, now you show me yours,¡± his dad wheezed. ¡°My parents were murdered in front of me by magic soldiers, then--¡± ¡°Hector, that isn¡¯t the kind of dream to dwell on.¡± ¡°Dad, please just listen.¡± ¡°Go on, then.¡± Hector took a breath. ¡°After the bad stuff happened, I was taken with the other kids to a central location to be processed. A nobleman made me into his ward.¡± ¡°A rich man adopted you?¡± ¡°Not an adoption as such, no. I¡­ well, Volilthur, which is my name there, was more of a servant in the nobleman¡¯s fifth household. I doubt I will ever see him again. But they are teaching me to absorb cosmic energy to become something called a Xian--¡± His dad choked on a piece of cupcake, hacking and spluttering. As Hector fussed over him, his dad pushed away the glass of water, napkin, and hands. Finally, Terry Thoreaux got enough of his breath back to speak. ¡°You said your dream-you was a god damn Xian?¡± ¡°Becoming a Xian after they attacked his world and abducted him,¡± Hector corrected. ¡°How is that possible? The Xian are in my dream. They are a major power. Them and the Arahant and the Jinn are always at war. They go to war and the rest of us suffer for it. But how are you dreaming the same world as me?¡± ¡°Everyone on Earth is having dreams, dad. They started two days ago.¡± Something faded in Terry¡¯s eyes. ¡°Everyone? I thought it was just me.¡± Hector¡¯s heart clenched. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t meant to¡­ but don¡¯t you see, these dreams might be real. Your Deronto and that Lina might be real.¡± ¡°Might be real,¡± Terry repeated. ¡°Don¡¯t matter how it is. I want to know what happens next. Hector, I think I am in love with Lina. On the edge of eighty, glued to my death bed, and I fell in love with a character from a dream. It¡¯s so real. I can¡¯t separate what I feel from what I remember Deronto feeling. And none of that matters. I have been sliding into the jaws of death for so long, struggling just hard enough to not feel like a quitter, and now I desperately want more days so I can live in that other world.¡± Hector placed his hand over his father¡¯s. ¡°I understand. Volithur has had nothing but hard times since I started dreaming him, but I am still desperate to see what is next. Your guy is actually having a good time.¡± His dad snorted a laugh. ¡°If all that¡¯s real, maybe I should smear myself in mud and do the wild heart dance under the light of a full moon. I might unlock a life affinity.¡± ¡°Only if I can record video,¡± Hector said. ¡°We¡¯d better not, then. I don¡¯t want everyone to know the banana thing is a lie.¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad you enjoy the dreams, dad.¡± ¡°It sure has given me something to look forward to.¡± Hector glanced at the clock. ¡°I¡¯ve got to get to work. Enjoy spending time with Lina.¡± ¡°Do you still work a double shift every day?¡± ¡°Someone has to keep the warehouse humming along.¡± ¡°And no overtime for all that?¡± ¡°I¡¯m a director of the company, dad. The annual bonus I get is more than one of my guys makes in overtime for a whole year.¡± ¡°More than they¡¯d get if they worked eighty hours every week?¡± Hector chose not to answer that. ¡°Sweet dreams, dad.¡± Chapter 7 Volilthur vowed to skip breakfast for the next two weeks. Cleaning out the septic invoked a potent bout of nausea that mixed poorly with a full belly. Given that the stone trench beneath the palace and each of the outbuildings received daily cleaning, there had to be a considerable number of residents. The sheer amount of solid waste boggled the mind. Shovels and buckets and wheelbarrows made the job marginally faster than it would otherwise be, and managed to delay the amount of time it took to be completely covered in the nastiness by an hour or two. After being given a brief training, they were left to their own devices. It took three hours to clear the palace septic trough, then about forty-five minutes each for the barracks, servant house, and artisan house. The wheelbarrow contents were dumped in a deep pit along with agricultural waste and kitchen scraps. When they were done, a more powerful soldier caused the contents of the pit to turn on itself until thoroughly mixed, then levitated a layer of sod over top to plug the hole and limit the spread of the stench. The two wards found the showers, cleaned up, and grabbed fresh uniforms. They had missed lunch, but some of the bread had been set aside for them. Volilthur devoured two loaves, then accepted the tiny vial of moon water elixir from the clerk on duty. They set to their cultivation then, exhausting their bodies through physical training and then absorbing back the cosmic energy from within the elixir. Volilthur thought he almost felt something of the elusive cosmic energy during the experience. Since they still had free time, Volithur went to his hammock and attempted to practice the mind cultivation method. He managed to shift himself into a deep trance and squeeze out some soul energy into his mind, finding the process a little easier after having done something similar with his body. Holding the concept of symmetrical completeness in mind, Volithur let the emptiness of his soul draw energy back in. He went instantly lightheaded. Volithur fought to stay conscious for a few minutes before going out like a light. ¡°You coming to dinner, Harridan?¡± Volithur sat up in his hammock as he came awake. ¡°I¡¯ll be right out,¡± he called to Thassily. It took him a bit to get moving as he still felt a touch of dizziness following the involuntary nap. Hopefully that means I successfully did mind cultivation, he thought. Dinner was another stew, this one based around cabbage, potatoes, beans, pork, and enough spices to confuse and confound the senses. Volilthur loved it. The dull ache of his personal losses flared up as always when he enjoyed something, but he pushed it back down. He could find pleasure in a meal without betraying the world he came from. The sergeant brought out a clay jug and pulled free a waxed stopper from a spout at one end. ¡°Line up the mugs, boys. We¡¯re having a sip of spiced rum to celebrate the departure of the forty-fourth son.¡± Volithur and Thassily joined the line of men to accept a splash of the liquid into their mugs. They didn¡¯t seem to receive any less liquor than the other men. When everyone had something in hand, the sergeant raised his mug high in salute. ¡°To the end of our beatings on the training fields.¡± ¡°Aye!¡± ¡°Cheers!¡± ¡°Hurrah!¡± Various cheers went up and everyone took a mighty swig of the liquid. Volithur steeled himself for the worst and found himself shocked. ¡°That actually tastes good!¡± There were hints of lime and ginger alongside the smooth burn. Rough laughter erupted. The sergeant pointed at him. ¡°Harridan thought we were going to toast with cheap swill. Only the best barrels fall off the wagon into our worthy hands.¡± Everyone lined up to receive a second sip, and once more they toasted something, this time to ¡®shady brewers and sticky fingers¡¯. There was still a little left, so a third share was granted to three soldiers who had been particularly abused in training by the Lord General¡¯s forty-fourth son. The sergeant then tasked a clerk with seeing that the empty container found its way back to the brewery under the cover of night. Volilthur had recovered somewhat from his earlier attempts at mental cultivation, so he decided to give it another try. While in his hammock, feeling marginally more relaxed from the drinks, he brought himself into the trance and swapped out the energy in his soul for the variety filtered by his mind holding a particular concept.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. He woke the next morning with no memory of going unconscious. Volithur couldn¡¯t tell if he had drifted off to sleep due to the comfort of his swaying hammock and the booze or if he had exhausted his mental energy with the filtering method. He didn¡¯t even know that he was doing anything real with all of his attempts to cultivate. The subtle sensations could all just be his imagination responding to the power of his suggestions. That morning, after a brief conversation, they agreed not to eat breakfast to see if that improved the experience in the septic troughs at all. It took them half an hour to decide that it did not. Instead of having full bellies wanting to rebel at the scents, they had empty bellies gurgling in horrifying fashion as they breathed the nasty air. They completed the work as quickly as possible, sharing the occasional observation that the Xian were obviously full of shit if they could produce so much waste on a daily basis. When they had showered, they once more had a meal of leftover bread. Upon asking, they learned that lunch was only ever bread and water in the barracks. Clerk Anadra joked that they weren¡¯t nobles to have pampered midday meals. Volilthur kept his thoughts about the utility of microwaves to himself, mindful of being considered a Jinn sympathizer. An elixir and exercise session later, they had absorbed their daily ration of cosmic energy. Volithur returned to his hammock and went to work on his mental cultivation. His descent into the trance state happened quickly that time, and he pushed out energy into his mind, then formed the concept. As the soul emptiness sucked energy back into itself, Volithur felt his mental field shrink and fade like a light bulb on a dimmer switch. His soul stopped feeling empty just before he would have passed out and Volilthur held onto his consciousness as he reflected on the cultivation process. He knew now for sure that something was happening, but he couldn¡¯t tell how effective his efforts were. The moon water elixir was considered borderline useless, so he needed to impress the marshal with his progress and gain access to better resources. Once more, Volithur and Thassily shoveled human excrement all morning. They had become marginally more efficient over time and were on track to be done in time to eat lunch with the others in the barracks. Unfortunately, that hope didn¡¯t hold up to reality. As they were preparing to move on from the palace, the Castellan made an appearance. Volithur snapped into a deep bow at the sight of the sneering official. ¡°Master Castellan.¡± Beside him, Thassily mimicked his actions. ¡°You stink, wards,¡± the Castellan observed. ¡°Uh, yes, Master Castellan.¡± Agreement seemed the best policy to avoid further trouble. ¡°I had expected the two of you to be flogged, but it seems the Marshal can be inventive when he wants to be. Your decorum seems to have improved inversely to your hygiene. Do you think that the punishment is sufficient to correct your behavioral issues?¡± The Castellan seemed eager to exert power over them. Volithur had been subjected to the same authoritarian bullying from his father for his whole life. Though he loved his old man, the truth had been that the guy needed wins. As a young child, Volithur hadn¡¯t understood that his father¡¯s job required obsequious subservience to rich assholes and sought to switch the role he played when at home. But even without understanding the dynamic at play, he learned how to mitigate the impact on his life. Sometimes if you acted foolishly hopeful for a reprieve, the only punishment you would receive was being required to do what you were already doing. ¡°Yes, Master Castellan! We have learned our lesson and don¡¯t need to be on septic duty any longer!¡± The Castellan laughed. ¡°You think I am going to release you from your punishment early?¡± Volithur drooped his shoulders dramatically. ¡°We learned our lesson, Master Castellan.¡± ¡°Then the rest of your punishment shall reinforce it,¡± the Castellan pronounced. ¡°Yes, Master Castellan.¡± Volithur held himself still, certain he had outplayed his superior. The desire to mete out further punishment had been met. To outward appearances, the foolish youths had believed that some hard work would let them escape their extra duty early. Crushing their hope provided the Castellan a sense of power. Nothing had changed, but Volithur¡¯s bully felt satisfied. Thank you, father, for teaching me how to be sly. ¡°I want the pipes scoured today,¡± the Castellan said. ¡°Do you know what that entails?¡± ¡°No, Master Castellan.¡± ¡°All of the pipes in the ceiling and wall that empty into the septic need to be thoroughly cleaned on occasion to prevent clogs. The normal schedule has that happening in two months, but I want it done today. So get a sturdy stick and remove all sediment from the pipes. Understood?¡± ¡°Yes, Master Castellan.¡± Volithur didn¡¯t have to fake the despair in his voice. Their tormentor sniffed dramatically, commented once more on their stench, and left them to their punishment. Chapter 8 Hector smacked his alarm clock hard enough that he worried he might have damaged it. Petty tyrants pissed him off. The bullying directed at Volithur bothered him on a professional level almost as much as it did on a personal one. The managerial philosophy that guided him at work was that he always made sure he was the hardest worker on the floor and made sure everyone under him was treated fairly. That was the most effective and the most moral way to do things. Using the anger as fuel, Hector changed into his running shoes and set off for his Saturday morning run. His dour mood let him power through the early pain until he hit his second wind. The frustration faded away as pavement fell behind him. His velocity slowed somewhat as he adjusted his expectations closer to reality. He still possessed the cardiovascular fitness to do a hard five miles, but his knees and hips didn¡¯t care for the impact that came along with a competitive pace. Smooth, gliding movements minimized the price he would pay for his weekly long run. He arrived back home a sweaty mess, showered, changed clothes, and drove to the hospital. His father slept throughout the entire visit, giving the pushy doctor another opportunity to harass Hector about hospice care. Then Hector went to work. Fortunately, only a single shift ran on Saturdays, so he only had to spend nine hours in the building before he could return home. The day had been a short one, yet it felt long to Hector. He had dreamed of multiple days of Volithur¡¯s life in a single night and the subjective experience made it seem like Hector had been hard at work for far longer than a single shift. On his way home, he stopped by the grocery store to restock his pantry, preparing for his Sunday tradition of meal prepping for the entire next week. For the first meal set he bought chicken planks, broccoli, and brown rice. For the second he grabbed noodles, diced onion, ground beef, and spaghetti sauce. Then he stocked up on frozen mixed berries, spinach, and unsweetened almond milk for his daily smoothie. A few cans of tuna and a bag of apples for healthy snacks. Hector was mentally preparing to do a second hospital trip as he pulled into his driveway and didn¡¯t notice the dilapidated minivan until he almost ran into it. He didn¡¯t recognize the vehicle, so before he unloaded the groceries he walked around to scope out its interior, trying to ascertain who had parked on his property. With no immediate answers in sight, Hector hefted the bags from the store and walked to the front door. Which he discovered was not locked. Hector set down his groceries and looked around for a weapon of some sort. Nothing looked promising, so he decided to take a look inside. When the doorknob turned under his hand, it must have made more noise than he realized, because there was suddenly a chorus of barking from within his house. What the hell? Hector did not have a dog. Not since Butch passed away three years prior. Yanking the door open revealed a sight that caused the floor of Hector¡¯s stomach to drop. Three dogs of mismatched sizes and appearances were running in circles before the door as his estranged wife approached wearing a tight t-shirt and short shorts beneath a cooking apron that had Mr. T¡¯s angry mug below the words ¡®I pity the food¡¯. ¡°Hey honey, I¡¯m home,¡± Jennifer sang, big smile on her face. I would rather be dreaming about shoveling shit, Hector thought. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Jennifer didn¡¯t show any sign that his words bothered her. ¡°Dinner is almost ready. It¡¯s your favorite. Stuffed pork chops.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t live here anymore, Jennifer.¡± ¡°I moved back in,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s not how this works. We¡¯re separated.¡± Jennifer¡¯s smile didn¡¯t waiver. ¡°Both our names are on the title. Anyway, meet the newest members of our family. This is Buster, Maggie, and Jasmine.¡± Hector held the door open. ¡°Please leave.¡± ¡°I told you. I moved back in. Come inside and get ready for dinner.¡± Jennifer returned to the kitchen, leaving him standing in front of three curious dogs. One of them moved to sneak past him to the great outdoors and Hector blocked the escape attempt. He seized the groceries and stepped inside, closing the door behind himself. The largest of the dogs, a mutt with some degree of retriever in its pedigree, sniffed him while its tail went wild, then forced its head beneath his hand while whining a demand for petting. Hector sighed and patted the dog, which encouraged the other two to seek his affection. He managed to get past them within five minutes and began unloading his groceries in the kitchen. ¡°I don¡¯t want you here,¡± he said. ¡°What do you think of the dogs?¡± ¡°Jennifer. I don¡¯t want you here.¡± ¡°I can sleep in the spare room to start with.¡± Hector glared at his wife, who avoided eye contact as she burned the pork chops. She had never been very skilled in the kitchen. ¡°Did your latest boyfriend kick you out?¡± ¡°I had my own apartment,¡± she said. ¡°Then go there.¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Can¡¯t. They don¡¯t allow pets.¡± Hector jumped as a canine nose rammed into his rear. He absently reached down to pet the offending animal. ¡°And in spite of that you suddenly have three dogs?¡± ¡°They¡¯re from a kill shelter, Hector. Look at them. Do you want them to die?¡± ¡°We¡¯re talking about you finding an excuse to show up out of the blue.¡± ¡°They¡¯re not excuses, they¡¯re my babies.¡± As Jennifer went to her knees, a rush of four-legged beasts swarmed past Hector, racing to surround their adoptive mother. ¡°Remember how much you loved Butch? Don¡¯t you want another chance at that kind of relationship?¡± Hector folded his arms. ¡°What do I need to do to get you out of here?¡± ¡°I¡¯m staying, Hector. It¡¯s my house, too.¡± ¡°I will pay for an apartment that allows pets.¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Jennifer hugged the retriever mix as she looked up at him with large eyes. ¡°I want to get back together.¡± ¡°Did you already screw every available man in the city? It didn¡¯t take long.¡± Her cheerful demeanor cracked. ¡°That¡¯s not fair.¡± ¡°Fair or not, it¡¯s true. You cheated on me, Jennifer.¡± ¡°We were separated.¡± ¡°I think we both know it started before you moved out.¡± ¡°I never cheated on you.¡± ¡°Based on how fast you lined up the next guy, I find that hard to believe.¡± ¡°Guys on the dating apps liked what they saw in me.¡± Hector looked down on her. ¡°Then why don¡¯t you find one of them to take your dogs in?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want any of those guys. I¡¯ve been telling you for weeks that I want to try again.¡± ¡°So I¡¯m just supposed to forgive you for running out and screwing half the town?¡± Jennifer pointed at him. ¡°You told me to leave.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not how I remember it.¡± ¡°You were working eighty hours a week, then coming home miserable and yelling at me for not keeping a clean house.¡± Hector wanted to interject that he had been upset not that she didn¡¯t clean the house, but that she constantly made messes throughout the house that he then had to clean up. He didn¡¯t get the chance as Jennifer raised her voice to preempt his interruption. ¡°I said you needed to work fewer hours so we could spend time together as a couple and you started yelling that I either had to put up with the situation or get out of the situation. You weren¡¯t going to change and I was very unhappy. So I took your advice and I left, Hector. You told me to do it.¡± Hector glared. ¡°If it was so bad, then why are you trying to come back?¡± ¡°Because I still love you, you idiot.¡± ¡°Well, I can¡¯t stand the sight of you.¡± Jennifer looked away from him. ¡°What kind of dream did you get? I could see you being a Jinn. They upload their minds into machines, you know. I bet they love getting rid of all the human pieces so they can work more hours at the warehouse.¡± The question came out of nowhere, and because of that Hector saw it as the obvious attempt to change the topic that it was. Jennifer had always been good at steering conversations. ¡°That¡¯s none of your concern. Our relationship ended four months ago. I don¡¯t want you around.¡± ¡°I¡¯m staying anyway.¡± ¡°That just gives me something else to despise you for.¡± Jennifer held tighter onto the dogs surrounding her. ¡°Justice is a wolf kin.¡± ¡°What does justice have to do with anything?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a name,¡± Jennifer said. ¡°Her name. The other me. The girl whose life I dream at night. She is wild and fearless and lives for her pack.¡± Hector tried to ignore the tantalizing lead buried in her words, but in the end his curiosity demanded answers. ¡°What is a wolf kin?¡± ¡°A type of Alfar. Only instead of embracing the life energy of an entire ecosystem, they fixate on a particular species. For Justice, it is wolves. She adopted an abandoned wolf pup as a child, one she named Runt. Her family didn¡¯t mind a pet. Alfar don¡¯t hide from nature behind walls and roofs. They embrace it by living beneath the sun and the stars, among the trees, alongside the animals. ¡°Justice became too close to Runt as they grew. Her family disapproved and chased off the wolf pup. So Justice left home to be with her animal companion. She embraced the way of the wolf and her body changed to be more like them. Runt grew large, attracted a mate, and started a pack. Justice led them all. She never once missed her family, Hector. They became dead to her the moment they turned on her companion.¡± Jennifer buried her face in the fur of the retriever to breath in the musk that had already begun to permeate the house. ¡°She¡¯s a lot like me. I left home at a young age and I have never regretted that decision. I do regret leaving you behind. We had a lot of problems, Hector, but nothing we couldn¡¯t fix if we actually tried.¡± Hector looked at the woman and dogs and burning meat and threw up his hands. ¡°Damn it, Jen, a werewolf is possibly the only thing I want less as a roommate than you.¡± Hearing the shortened form of her name, Jennifer¡¯s wilted form straightened. ¡°I¡¯m not going to be a wolf kin, Hector. There aren¡¯t any wolves around here and I don¡¯t think I¡¯m quite that wild.¡± She picked up the smallest of the three pets, a miniature collie with the hazy eyes of an elderly animal, and kissed it on the head. ¡°I¡¯m going to be a dog kin. And these three are the start of my pack.¡± Hector repeated the words, numb. ¡°The start of your pack. How many dogs are you planning to bring into my home?¡± ¡°All of them from kill shelters, Hector. Don¡¯t think about how many dogs will be in your house. Think of how many lives are being saved.¡± Smoke began to pour off of the remains of the pork chops, setting the kitchen fire alarm off. Hector considered that an omen for things to come. Chapter 9 Volithur discovered a deep loathing of the Castellan as he scoured the pipes. The task, it turned out, could not be conducted in a dignified manner. Standing beneath clay pipes as you stabbed at obstructions with a piece of wood proved just as hazardous as it sounded. Hair, ear canals, even nostrils were soon defiled by filth. They barely finished the job in time for dinner. Volithur showered extra thoroughly, ate, consumed his elixir, and took to his hammock for a session of mental cultivation. As always, it drained him until he was barely conscious. He let the drowsiness take him under. The next several days, fortunately, they did not have to repeat their work on the pipes. The Castellan appeared to have forgotten about their existence after ensuring they were sufficiently miserable. That let them return to the schedule of their first few days. A small breakfast, half a day on septic duty, a shower, lunch leftovers, exercise, consuming an elixir, eating dinner, and then mental cultivation to end the day. It wasn¡¯t exactly an enjoyable schedule, but its regularity and mundane annoyances served to insulate Volithur and Thassily from the moments of grief that would otherwise have overwhelmed them. While on their own, they would complain about every perceived injustice sent their way, even something as minor as being forbidden to freeload off the mug of rum three of their fellow trainees pooled their meager funds to buy. They also mimicked the behaviors of the Sergeant and other soldiers with distinctive personalities. They even, on occasion, remarked on the appearance of several of the women whose paths they crossed as they went about their duties. When their moods were particularly good, they would reminisce about things they missed from their home world. Electric lighting, chocolate milkshakes, giant soft pretzels from the mall, a television program called ¡®Space Adventures¡¯ they both watched each evening. Though they had gone to different schools, they had lived in essentially the same area and found their tastes in most things nearly identical. At times when they felt more fragile, they avoided talk of home to focus on grandiose fantasies of their futures. Cultivating to the cusp of godhood like the Xian nobility, which would let them get revenge on everyone who had ever wronged them, become obscenely wealthy, and draw the attentions of beautiful women. Volithur soon considered Thassily to be his closest friend. Perhaps that distinction mattered less than it once might have, considering all his old friends were dead or scattered, but in Volithur¡¯s mind it carried great weight. Other friendships were slower to form. They were treated fairly by the soldiers, but no one seemed interested in forging deeper relationships. Maybe because they were foreigners. Maybe because they were the youngest there. Maybe because as wards they might elect to leave the group after coming of age. Or maybe because they stank in spite of their best efforts each day to scrub away the filth. The days rushed by. Soon their first week ended and they stopped receiving the moon water elixir. The Marshal came over from the palace on their eighth day to check on their progress. The overbearing man squinted at each of them in turn, then pointed at Thassily. ¡°You¡¯ve done good enough. I¡¯ll let you have a full vial of tea powder elixir tomorrow. If you impress me with your ability to absorb its potency, I will let you have a vial at the start of every month.¡± The Marshal scrunched up his face while studying Volithur. ¡°I¡¯m afraid your potential isn¡¯t good enough for me to waste elixirs on you. You will be able to train with us and make some amount of progress before you come of age. At that time, it is customary to offer wards the opportunity to join a household in a staff position. You are unlikely to become a soldier, but if you work hard I will recommend you as a groundskeeper or something like that.¡± Following the bad news at the end of their first week, nothing much changed for Volithur. His fantasies of greatness faded away, but he had never actually believed he had a real chance of becoming as powerful as one of the nobles. He was the son of a landscaper lucky enough to have a wealthy client list. Being employed as a groundskeeper in the fifth household could be considered taking up the family business in a sense. Volithur was never going to be a powerful person in his old life. His new life didn¡¯t seem designed to propel him to great heights and he lacked the wealth that the nobles spent on growing their strength. Initially, Volithur intended to give up on the mental cultivation since it seemed unlikely for the laborious practice to help his future, but he found himself struggling to sleep on that first night. Visions of his parents¡¯ heads exploding haunted him in the quiet. So he went ahead with the exercise and found himself easily drifting into slumber. Thassily, though trying not to brag, had no one else to confide his successes in. So Volithur heard quite a bit about the impact of the tea powder elixir. It was ten times as potent as the moon water elixir, brewed from leaves that had grown on the Xian home world and been transported to the fifth estate.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. That had been a bit of news to both of them. The third, fourth, and fifth households were not on the Xian home world. Apparently, just breathing the air and eating the food of the home world allowed people to cultivate cosmic energy at a rate that could only be matched here by generous use of elixirs and cosmic chambers. The world they now called home ¨C named New Mart ¨C had been conquered three hundred years prior, the Xian slaughtering the unempowered locals with ease until no one dared oppose the invaders. The elixir allowed Thassily to continuously exercise to a level he had never been able to before, pushing energy out from his soul to allow his body to exert itself, then automatically drawing the elixir¡¯s cosmic energy into his soul. The cycle continued for hours, like breathing in and out, Thassily growing stronger all the while. When he finally dropped from exhaustion, he had felt a connection to cosmic energy like he never had before. Volithur did his best to be happy for his friend¡¯s good fortune and concentrated on counting down the days remaining on septic duty. Their training would soon begin, and while it might not be relevant since he didn¡¯t have the bodily cultivation skills to become a soldier, he was looking forward to learning some of the superhuman abilities of the Xian. Finally, their final day of punishment arrived. They completed the duty once last time, showered, and reported to the Barracks Clerk. Clerk Anadra was on duty and pointed to the chalkboard. ¡°For the next week, Harridan is on mop duty here in the barracks and Thassily is making laundry deliveries. Those duties are to be done as you have time, but always before the start of dinner. ¡°Both of you need to report to the training fields after breakfast for morning movement training and weaponless combat. Immediately following lunch you have a conditioning session. If you want to make the most of your time here, make sure you cultivate during any spare time.¡± The next morning they lined up on the main training field with the other soldiers and recruits, from those with the most seniority on the right and those with the least on the left. Volithur found himself dead last, judged ever so slightly inferior to Thassily. Facing the line was the Sergeant, Instructor Lisbet, and Instructor Gordo. After standing at attention and being given a quick rundown by the Sergeant of events happening that day, command was turned over to Instructor Lisbet. The middle-aged woman led the group through their morning movement training. It began with a series of gentle movements; twists and turns and bends that limbered up the joints and lengthened the muscles. The pace gradually picked up until they were flowing through positions that proved somewhat challenging from both a flexibility and a strength perspective. They did about half an hour of that before switching to balance exercises. Standing on a single foot while bending in various directions. Thassily and Volithur laughed at their inability to do more than hop about and fall down until the Sergeant marched over to shout in their faces. After that incident, they took the balance exercises very seriously. They still failed each and every one. Then came the ¡®inverted balances¡¯, which began with headstands before progressing to handstands. Planks, side planks, neck bridges¡­ it never seemed to end. Either there were a never-ending number of exercises performed regularly by the Xian soldiers or Instructor Lisbet was an insane woman who took inspiration from gymnasts. When the exercises finally ended, the assembled were separated into three groups. The advanced group, composed of professional soldiers, went off with the Sergeant. The intermediate group, a mixture of promising recruits and some militia members from the city outside the household grounds, went with Instructor Lisbet. That left the beginner group with Instructor Gordo. The beginners were mostly militia members, with Thassily and Volilthur, plus three recruits slightly older than them. The recruits lived in the barracks with them and the soldiers, but the militia members only came onto the palace grounds to train on the fields before leaving again. They were civilians with normal jobs who came once a week to train as auxiliary forces. A bored Instructor Gordo eyed the group for a few moments. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get started with some standing striking work. No domain use. If you are paired up with the newest two guys, no aura either. They are wards of the Lord General, currently unempowered, so don¡¯t act cute unless you are eager to pay compensation for their injuries. Basic fist offense and defense drill to start, concentrate on your footwork and angles. Jabs, crosses, slips, bobs, and fades. Pair up and get to work.¡± The instructor then pulled Volithur and Thassily to the side and showed them how to throw a punch, how to avoid taking a hit, and how to move their feet. Then they were walked through the drill, which involved one person throwing any three punches at any tempo they desired while their training partner avoided those punches to the best of their ability. Once the third strike was thrown, the attacker and defender roles swapped so that the other person would throw three strikes. Instructor Gordo emphasized that they should mix up their rhythm so that they were training reading an opponent and reacting instead of just choreographing a performance. He wanted them to land real strikes on each other ¨C without putting any significant force behind their blows. The two of them stood across from each other and traded robotic strikes while Instructor Gordo berated them for not circling, for standing too tall, for letting their guards fall, for keeping too steady of a tempo, for basically every thing they possibly could do wrong or forget to do. Once Volithur was beginning to feel lightheaded, Instructor Gordo called for a quick break. Everyone hydrated from a water barrel before being paired up with a different training partner than last time. There was a good bit of shuffling around before Volithur found himself in front of a short, built man with a crooked nose, missing teeth, and an expression equal parts dull and malignant. His misgivings proved prescient as the instant that Instructor Gordo called for the round to begin, a calloused fist launched directly towards his face. Chapter 10 Jerking awake. Hands tangling in sheets as they struggled to protect his face. Alarm blaring. Gasping for air. Confusion. Hector turned off his alarm and collapsed back onto his bed, trying to calm his panic. He had to make himself believe that no one had attacked him. That was Volithur¡¯s life. Though the moment he returned to sleep, he would get to feel the aftermath of that incoming fist. He sighed as he stared at his ceiling. Sometimes it felt like only bad things came Volithur¡¯s way. The door to his room banged open to admit a four-legged intruder who jumped onto the bed and began to lick Hector¡¯s face. ¡°Bad things happen to me, too, come to think of it.¡± ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Jennifer and the other two dogs entered his room. ¡°I thought you were going to stay out of my way,¡± Hector said. Jennifer gestured to the door. ¡°I¡¯m not blocking your path.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯ve got things to do¡­.¡± ¡°No you don¡¯t. Sunday is when you do laundry and prep meals. A Jinn personality like you doesn¡¯t deviate from your schedule.¡± Hector pushed the dog away from his face. ¡°My father¡¯s in the hospital, so that¡¯s happening.¡± Jennifer winced. ¡°How is he doing?¡± ¡°He¡¯s dying.¡± ¡°I dropped by to see him last month. He was polite about it, but I got the impression he didn¡¯t want me there. I bet you told him I cheated on you, like you told all my friends.¡± ¡°We¡¯re still technically married, Jen, so anyone you slept with was infidelity. Having a different mailing address doesn¡¯t change facts.¡± ¡°You¡¯re just trying to be difficult,¡± Jennifer said. Hector swung his feet over the side of the bed, which brought the retriever mix over to stand directly in his way in a bid for attention. He patted the guy¡¯s head. ¡°This one is Buster?¡± ¡°Hey, you remembered!¡± ¡°He¡¯s my favorite,¡± Hector said. ¡°Hector Thoreaux, you cannot play favorites with your children.¡± He nodded to the slobbery pit bull his bed currently alternating between sniffing and licking the back of his head. ¡°Jasmine does too much kissing. And I¡¯m pretty sure Maggie is blind.¡± ¡°She¡¯s only partially blind. And how could someone abandon a dog at the end of its life like that? She lives with people her whole life, then they get rid of her when she becomes a burden.¡± Hector changed into his street clothes in the bathroom, then emerged to find Jennifer hauling the laundry basket down the hall. ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°It¡¯s laundry day,¡± she replied. ¡°I can do my own laundry.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got it.¡± Hector¡¯s brow drew down. ¡°Doing domestic work isn¡¯t going to change my mind about us.¡± ¡°I¡¯m living here again, so I¡¯m going to help out.¡± ¡°Do not cook any of the food I bought.¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°I can make spaghetti, Hector.¡± ¡°You burn everything, Jen. Don¡¯t touch my food.¡± ¡°Go see your dad. Tell him I said hi.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t touch my food, Jen.¡± ¡°See you in a bit, Hector.¡± ¡°I¡¯m serious.¡± Jen continued her trip with the laundry basket, so Hector detoured to the fridge, where he hid the ground beef and chicken planks in a plastic bag. Necessary defensive moves taken, Hector drove to the hospital. He discovered his father in the midst of being checked over by nurses when he pushed open the closed door. Terry Thoreaux waved to him as he entered. ¡°Come on in, make it a party. These ladies like to check out every inch of my body.¡± The nurse snorted. ¡°Only cause they pay me, Terry.¡± ¡°I take back everything bad I ever said about American healthcare.¡± She pulled his covers back over him. ¡°Want more apple juice sent up?¡± ¡°Please.¡± As the nurse left, Hector took his usual seat. ¡°How are the dreams lately?¡± ¡°Deronto became an Alfar. He¡¯s not with Lina any more, but life goes on.¡± ¡°What happened to Lina?¡± His dad scratched his head. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not something I approve of. Deronto isn¡¯t me, right? He lost interest in his lady after she put on some weight. She had an injured shoulder and limited her activity for a while in the village. Ate a bit more than normal. Deronto started noticing how Lina¡¯s cousin Ira was the more attractive of the two. So he bungled up the whole situation and neither of the women care for him anymore.¡± ¡°He sure lost interest fast. It¡¯s only been a few days since we last spoke. How long was that in dream time? A few weeks?¡± ¡°Three years,¡± Terry said. ¡°Feels like I lived them years, too. Deronto is tending a sacred grove with some religious order. He hasn¡¯t caught the faith, but he is gaining insights being around the trees. They came from the Alfar home world. They are changing the energy of the planet to be more in line with life. Some sort of Arahant project, spreading the Alfar around to new universes. No one really understands what the great races get up to, other than fighting each other.¡± ¡°The great races?¡± ¡°Arahant and Jinn and Xian. Your Xian are the worst of the bunch. They war for the fun of it.¡± ¡°Yeah, my dream guy isn¡¯t doing so well among the Xian. They won¡¯t give him any resources to cultivate, so he is basically doomed to become a groundskeeper. I don¡¯t even think he can call himself a Xian until his soul attunes to cosmic energy. Which might be never.¡± His dad nodded along, obviously not paying any attention. ¡°I think I can do what Deronto is doing, Hector. The insights he gained¡­ they passed straight on to me. Our world doesn¡¯t have a lot of life energy, but I can feel a bit of it on the air. Even my body, such as it is, has some life energy. I want to try getting my hands on a plant and doing an aura extraction on it. Would you buy me some flowers from the gift store? Don¡¯t care what they look like, just make sure they are the freshest they have.¡± Hector stood and took a single step towards the door before glancing back. ¡°This aura extraction method. Does it only work on plants?¡± ¡°It works on anything living.¡± He came back to the side of the bed and held out his hand. ¡°Then take some of mine.¡± Terry stared up at him. ¡°That¡¯s how an Alfar becomes a Strigoi, boy. Draining the life of other humans is dangerous.¡± ¡°Anything you pull out, I¡¯ll replace from my soul. I¡¯m sure I can do that much. Maybe I can even refill my soul through mental cultivation. Volithur figured out how to do that much.¡± ¡°It¡¯s dangerous to have life energy drawn out of you.¡± ¡°I can handle it, dad.¡± ¡°Also dangerous to attune to human life energy. I¡¯d rather steal from gift shop flowers.¡± Hector nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in two minutes.¡± He was gone closer to fifteen, but it hardly mattered because his father was once more asleep when he returned. Hector placed the flowers within arms reach and settled in to wait. He had claimed that he could use the mental cultivation method that Volithur had learned. Was that actually true? Did those detailed memories actually provide the skill he would need? Hector, for the first time ever in his life, felt for his soul. There were differences to what he recalled from his dreams, but they weren¡¯t significant enough to impact the outcome. Hector squeezed out a stream of energy into his mind, felt his mental faculties sharpen in response, and then locked a concept into place of the symmetrically complete cosmic energy, wedging that concept firmly into place at the point where his mind met the aperture of his soul. The empty feeling came and ¨C Chapter 11 Volithur¡¯s nose crunched under the fist and he fell back onto his rear. His vision cleared just in time to witness Instructor Gordo¡¯s cupped hand make contact with the smirking brawler¡¯s ear. Volithur¡¯s assailant stumbled and fell to his knees. Instructor Gordo executed a rapid kick, slamming the bone of his shin directly into the downed man¡¯s temple. As the man finished collapsing, Instructor Gordo lifted Volithur back to his feet and poked at his nose. ¡°Not broke. You¡¯ll be fine.¡± ¡°What about him?¡± Instructor Gordo glanced down at Volithur¡¯s unconscious training partner. ¡°He¡¯s a foul tempered simpleton. I could have him removed from the militia, but I like the idea of him being on the front lines if the monsters invade here.¡± Volithur felt at his nose, which seemed to be swelling. ¡°Monsters? You mean the Jinn?¡± ¡°Ha! The Jinn are human. If not for their mastery of machines, they wouldn¡¯t be able to compete with us on the unempowered worlds. The monsters are nightmares come to life. They wiped out the Orisha and Titans. Killed every last human on Aes.¡± ¡°Are they coming here?¡± Instructor Gordo clapped Volithur on the shoulder. ¡°Only if they¡¯re stupid. A world full of Xian, even weak Xian, is not a target of opportunity. I¡¯m going to show you some footwork drills that you can practice for the rest of class.¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Volithur set to work practicing stepping forward, back, left, right, diagonally each direction, and circling left and right. The instructor would yell at him from time to time, typically for dropping his hands, standing too tall, or using a repetitive pattern. That class ended after about two hours and they were released to ¡®personal development time¡¯. A helpful suggestion was made that if anyone had a work detail that needed done, this would be a great time to handle it. Based on that advice, Volithur found the cleaning supplies and began to clean the floors of the public spaces in the barracks. He finished in time for lunch, enjoyed the fresh baked bread, and then went to the conditioning training, where he threw up the contents of his stomach in its entirety. Between the running, the push-ups, the pull-ups, the sit-ups, the weighted carries, and the box jumps, Volithur¡¯s body rebelled. First he could barely catch his breath, then he began to feel numb in his extremities, then the vomit happened. At each turn, the Sergeant or one of the two instructors would be there to scream in his face until he continued on with the exercises. It truly felt like a form of torture. When it ended, they were made to stand in line and perform breathing exercises. At some point, Volithur fainted and was blessedly allowed to lay unconscious until his body restored itself enough for him to function. He ate dinner, got a shower, and performed his mental cultivation ritual to drift into sleep. Early the next morning he was brought awake by pain everywhere. There was a dull ache that surrounded his tender nose, but that paled in comparison to a body that felt damaged beyond any hope of ever returning to normal. Even laying motionless hurt. He climbed out of his hammock and ¨C Chapter 12 Hector woke to hands shaking him awake. He sat up as the nurse who had performed the checkup on his father earlier leaned over him. She jerked back as he began to move. ¡°You were out cold!¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± Hector said. ¡°I haven¡¯t been sleeping very good lately.¡± The nurse nodded. ¡°Easy to understand, with your father¡¯s state. Or is it¡­ dream stuff?¡± ¡°Both. Plus a situation with my wife. There¡¯s a lot going on.¡± At that moment, Terry revealed that he was awake as well. ¡°Wife? What about her?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll leave you two alone now,¡± the nurse muttered on her way out. Hector turned his attention to his father. ¡°Jen surprised me and moved back in. I asked her to leave, but she doesn¡¯t want to and I legally can¡¯t make her.¡± ¡°So she¡¯s Jen again.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± ¡°Ever since she left you¡¯ve used Jennifer. Very formal. Three syllables. Now it¡¯s Jen.¡± ¡°I am not getting back together with her, dad. She¡¯s dreaming a wolf kin woman and brought three rescue dogs home. I¡¯m not sure how that kin thing works, but it sounds like she might start growing fur at some point.¡± Terry nodded. ¡°She might. Fur, claws, snout, any of it is possible. Depends how far they want to push it. Be careful, son. She could turn into a beast.¡± ¡°And I could turn into an all-powerful Xian.¡± Hector didn¡¯t think he¡¯d made any noticeable change to his soul after a single mental cultivation session, but his first effort had caused the same side effect as when Volithur did it. He had cultivated in the real world. ¡°It¡¯s all possible, Hector. Look.¡± Terry¡¯s fingers brushed the bouquet of decaying flowers on the hospital table pushed up next to him. They had been freshly cut flowers before Hector went unconscious. ¡°Bring fruits, nuts, and seeds tomorrow. Stuff that can grow.¡± Hector quickly agreed to pick some things up while he did some mental calculations. He had only been out for around an hour. Though he felt tired, it wasn¡¯t the overwhelming exhaustion that afflicted Volithur after mental cultivation. Did that mean Hector had better mental recovery speed? Or had he simply not done as much work to exhaust himself as Volithur did in his sessions? Memories of the conditioning session that had wrecked Volithur surfaced. Hector could not only have kept up with a similar workout, he would have been ready to go again the next morning. His heart fluttered. Was he possibly better suited to train in cultivation than the boy whose life he lived out through his dreams? He might be fifty-two years old, but fitness had been a lifelong passion. And if reading for extended periods of time drained his mental energy as much as it did Volithur¡¯s, he would be completely unable to manage the demands of his job. ¡°You know,¡± his dad said, ¡°I¡¯m already deviating from the Alfar ways by taking life energy like this. It¡¯s supposed to be a giving and a taking, an equal exchange where all parties benefit. I¡¯m just taking. That¡¯s the path of the Ogre.¡± Hector¡¯s thoughts went to the Shrek movies. ¡°Ogres are a real thing?¡± ¡°If we¡¯re believing our dreams are factual, which I guess we are, then Ogres are a very real thing. They run around like brutes, devouring life energy to sate their never-ending hunger. They grow big and strong and heal anything less than a decapitation in a couple of hours. But I can¡¯t exactly spend a couple of years communing with nature, now can I?¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t stress about killing a few plants, dad. The logging industry has you beat by a long shot. So fruits and seeds for tomorrow?¡± Hector found a smile on his face as the realization that his father intended to fight the cancer settled in. Maybe it wouldn¡¯t work, but there was at least hope. They weren¡¯t just waiting for him to expire. ¡°Seeds for planting. Nothing that has been roasted or baked.¡± Terry turned his eyes to the dead flowers. ¡°And don¡¯t get involved with your wolf kin wife. The kin leave their humanity behind to become animals.¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Technically, I think Jen is going to be a dog kin. It doesn¡¯t matter, though. I¡¯m not getting back together with her as a human or as some kind of weird mutant.¡± ¡°Just don¡¯t get sucked back in.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± Hector promised. ¡°Sweet dreams.¡± The drive home did not last long enough. With a sense of dread, Hector entered through the front door of his house. The dogs rushed him, demanding pets and scratches. When he had satisfied them enough, he made his way to the kitchen, where Jen stood over the sink scrubbing a skillet caked with burnt food remnants. Plastic containers sat in a row, steam rising from a base of noodles with a pile of meat on top. A room temperature jar of spaghetti sauce sat off to the side, still unopened. ¡°Couldn¡¯t open the jar?¡± ¡°It tastes the same when you add it at the end anyway,¡± Jennifer said. ¡°If I were to itemize all the things you did wrong, I would start by noting that you didn¡¯t put the onions I specifically bought for this purpose in with the ground beef. Then I would observe that you let the meat burn. And I would definitely dispute your claim that the order the sauce is added doesn¡¯t matter. Of course, all of this could have been avoided if you hadn¡¯t done what I asked you not to.¡± ¡°Well, if you cared that much, you should have hidden the beef better. I just saved you an hour of work. Two hours, counting the laundry.¡± Hector popped the lid off of the spaghetti sauce and dumped it into the containers. ¡°The only credit I am willing to give you is for going against my explicitly stated wishes.¡± ¡°Technically, that would be a debit.¡± ¡°Oh, look at you, finally using your accounting degree,¡± he sniped. ¡°Did I tell you that I applied for a receptionist job at a vet¡¯s office?¡± ¡°That sounds like a job that doesn¡¯t pay well,¡± Hector said. ¡°I see why you decided to freeload off of me. Free housing and free food, right?¡± Jennifer spun around, flinging water from the sponge in her hand with the motion. ¡°When have I ever cared about money, Hector? Did I ask for handouts even once when we were separated?¡± ¡°We¡¯re still separated, Jen.¡± ¡°I never asked for money. I didn¡¯t file for divorce to take half. I didn¡¯t want alimony to keep up my lifestyle. I¡¯m comfortable living within my means.¡± ¡°Yet you are here instead of your apartment.¡± ¡°I was kicked out the first day I had the dogs. There¡¯s a strict no pet policy.¡± ¡°Sounds like a great life decision.¡± ¡°You¡¯re the one who is all about money. Our marriage fell apart because I wanted your time and you never thought spending time with me was a good investment. Eighty hours a week for your bosses, no problem. An hour a day at the gym, easy. But one evening a week for just the two of us was ¡®unrealistic¡¯.¡± ¡°If you¡¯re not after my money and you don¡¯t like how I treated you, why are you back?¡± Jennifer lifted her chin defiantly. ¡°Because I never fought for our relationship. I made hints and you ignored them. I begged and you waved me off. I tried reasoning with you and you talked circles around me. A dramatic walkout obviously didn¡¯t work either, because you never asked me to come back.¡± ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have had to! We swore oaths to each other! Oaths that you broke!¡± ¡°You weren¡¯t living up to your oaths for years before I left, Hector. We lived in the same house, saw each other in passing, and had sex on Sundays because that fit your schedule.¡± ¡°I¡¯m so terrible, yet you¡¯re still here in my house.¡± Jennifer snorted. ¡°I¡¯m the hypocrite here?¡± ¡°You most certainly are.¡± ¡°If the two of us are so over, why haven¡¯t you moved on, Hector? Where¡¯s my replacement?¡± Jennifer looked about the room in confusion. ¡°She must be real good at hiding because I have been here a full day already and not seen her once.¡± ¡°After the way things went down with us, why would I want to open myself up to anyone?¡± ¡°Because that¡¯s what humans do when they¡¯re lonely. Or at least normal humans. Who knows with Jinn types like you.¡± Hector slammed his fist down onto the table, causing a plastic bin of spaghetti to topple onto the floor. Dogs swarmed past his legs to get at the mess. ¡°Stop calling me a Jinn,¡± he grumbled. ¡°You¡¯re telling me you¡¯re not a ¨C¡± ¡°I¡¯m a Xian.¡± Hector drew himself up to his full height. ¡°I¡¯m not talking about the guy in my dreams, either. Hector Thoreaux is cultivating cosmic energy. I am going to wring every bit of knowledge from my dreams to become a cultivator.¡± Jennifer stared at him a moment, frozen in shock. Finally, she turned her attention to the dogs. ¡°I don¡¯t think dogs are supposed to eat spaghetti sauce.¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s too late now. I¡¯ll be cultivating in my room.¡± Chapter 13 Volithur limped throughout the dark barracks, trying to ease the pains of his body through movement. His efforts saw mixed results. The steady ache receded somewhat, but more acute discomfort arose in specific muscle groups. His calves protested each step. His abdomen hurt when he tried to straighten his back. His chest, triceps, and shoulders protested anything beyond a narrow range of motion. Even his back and sides hurt. He had thought that the two weeks of exercising with Thassily had gotten him into better shape, but now he wondered why he had ever regarded their feeble attempts as anything akin to actual exercise. He¡¯d moved until he grew tired and stopped. When the Sergeant led exercises, there was no stopping allowed until the end came and their terrifying shouts were incredibly motivating. By the time breakfast arrived, Volithur was wishing he¡¯d managed another hour of sleep. He ate, did another hour of Instructor Lisbet¡¯s movement training, then two hours of Instructor Gordo¡¯s weaponless combat training. The stretching felt good in a semi-painful way, but getting punched in the face with his nose still tender he did not appreciate. Eating punches happened a lot when you were too tired to keep your hands up, and those ¡®soft¡¯ punches landed with enough force to bruise. Mopping the barracks almost proved more than he could handle after taking his beating and Volithur actually found himself missing the days before they started normal training. He would rather return to septic duty rather than endure the torture of the trainers. He collapsed during conditioning training, earning him a punishment. For hours after everyone else finished conditioning, the instructors took turns making him alternate between running in place with high knees and doing a squat-and-jump. They only released him when dinner time arrived, and Volithur barely managed to choke down some of that day¡¯s cabbage and venison stew. Mental cultivation was the only thing that let him move past the pain of his body into slumber. The days blurred together into an achy haze. Volithur hurt every moment he was conscious. He struggled through training with a steely determination to avoid being detained for extra exercise. His efforts came at the cost of further running down his body. Pain, exhaustion, and hunger came to dominate his thoughts. It wasn¡¯t until they reached seventh day and had a break from the normal training routine that Volithur emerged from the haze of misery. He returned to the hammock after breakfast that day, sent himself to sleep with a bout of mental cultivation, woke for lunch, followed by another nap. Then came dinner. Thassily sat across a table from him and practiced sullen silence in solidarity with Volithur¡¯s griefs, though Thassily had adapted to their new lifestyle much better than he had. The sudden arrival of Clerk Anadra interrupted their quiet meal. ¡°Ward Harridan, the Marshal requires your immediate presence in the office,¡± the clerk announced. ¡°Please follow me at once. Someone else can clean up after you.¡± Volithur sullenly rose to his feet to follow the clerk. He suspected he knew what this was about. Not only had he failed the test with the moon water elixir, his performance in training was abysmal. No doubt the Marshal wanted to lay down some sort of ultimatum. ¡®Do better or get kicked out of the household.¡¯ He couldn¡¯t imagine living on the streets would be much worse than the training he was forced to endure daily. They didn¡¯t even leave the building, going to the secondary office the Marshal maintained in the barracks rather than the one in the palace. Clerk Anadra knocked on the door jam without stopping his march into the room. ¡°Master Marshal, Ward Harridan is here.¡± The Marshal looked up from a document, hard eyes fixing on Volithur. He tapped on the paperwork with two meaty fingers. ¡°Why did you not inform anyone of the terms of your wardship?¡± The meaning of the question escaped him. Volithur looked to the clerk for help. ¡°Uh,¡± Clerk Anadra said, ¡°the Marshal is asking about the stipulation that you be educated.¡± ¡°Yes, that.¡± The Marshal rapped his knuckles on the table. ¡°The fifth household has been in violation of the Lord General¡¯s instructions for three weeks now. Why did you not speak up?¡± Volithur¡¯s mind began to turn over at a rapid pace. He sensed danger, but also opportunity. ¡°Forgive me, Master Marshal. I was placed on septic duty my first day for improper decorum, so I feared drawing any further attention to myself.¡± The Marshal sat back in his chair, placing his fingertips together in thought. ¡°The Castellan intimidated you. Yes. That shifts some of the blame away from us.¡± The man compared two documents side by side. ¡°Why did the Lord General decree for you to receive an education and not Ward Thassily?¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Time to make his move. Volithur scratched his head to avoid direct eye contact as he wove his narrative. ¡°The Lord General observed that I looked like his deceased footman. He gave me the man¡¯s name and suggested I might become his footman once my wardship ended.¡± Judging by the way the Marshal¡¯s jaw dropped, his words had had an effect. As the man¡¯s panic increased, Volithur came to the queasy realization that he may have oversold his relationship with the Lord General. ¡°You are to be trained as a footman in the Lord General¡¯s retinue?¡± The Marshal stood suddenly. ¡°We need to see the Castellan. Clerk, free up Harridan¡¯s afternoon schedule so he can attend classes in the palace. Remove him from the duty roster and assign a personal cultivation lesson for the hour before lunch. He is to receive tea powder elixir monthly, and to make up for the three weeks of lost time he will be given blood boiling elixir tomorrow morning. Come along now, Harridan.¡± They rushed across the yard to the palace. ¡°Ward Harridan, the blood boiling elixir is a mid tier cultivation resource. It is what myself, the Castellan, and the family members typically receive as resources for body enhancement. It more than makes up for what you were denied the past weeks. If you can retain even a tenth of its potency, your cultivation will leap ahead.¡± Volithur struggled to keep up the pace while his thoughts ran in circles. I should not have claimed the Lord General wants me as his footman. If these men discover I exaggerated, it will be very bad for me. On the other hand, if they never hear otherwise I will be handed power on a silver platter. I was either very smart or very stupid, and I won¡¯t know which it was for a while. It¡¯s too late for me to be honest now, I¡¯ll just have to hold fast to my story. Within the palace, they climbed a set of stairs and moved directly to a large door with gleaming silver handles. A clerk sat outside the office at a small desk comparing tables of numbers to a ledger. The clerk barely glanced up before speaking. ¡°Master Marshal, the Castellan is in meditation and has no time to entertain you tonight.¡± The Marshal leaned ominously over the small desk, placing the knuckles of his massive hands onto the wood and bringing his face unreasonably close to that of the clerk. ¡°It has come to my attention that the explicit instructions of the Lord General have been disobeyed. Your master is implicated in the situation. I will speak to the Castellan at once.¡± The clerk leaned away from the hovering figure. ¡°Very well, Master Marshal. I will announce your visit.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll see myself in.¡± With a gesture, the door slammed open. The Marshal stomped into the expansive chamber within to face a man reclined upon a couch with a book in his hands. The Castellan¡¯s face grew red. ¡°What is the meaning of this?¡± The Marshal held up Volithur¡¯s wardship contract. ¡°The Lord General decreed for Ward Harridan to receive an education. He intends for the boy to be trained as a footman in his retinue.¡± The Castellan flew to his feet, dropped the book to the floor as he glanced at the clerk on the other side of the open door. ¡°Breathe a word of this to anyone and your life will be misery,¡± he snapped at the clerk as he shut the door. Turning back to face the Marshal, he snapped his fingers and began to read the document. ¡°It says nothing about training a footman.¡± ¡°Harridan, what did the Lord General say to you?¡± Can¡¯t change my story now, he thought. ¡°Well, Master Marshal, Master Castellan, the Lord General said I looked like his footman Harridan, who had died recently. He changed my name to Harridan then and said he hoped I would be his footman.¡± The Castellan placed the contract down and glared at the Marshal. ¡°How long did you hold onto this before you actually read it?¡± ¡°Three weeks, almost to the day.¡± ¡°This is on you, then. I have nothing to do with it.¡± ¡°Harridan told me that he never spoke up because he feared you after being punished for displaying improper decorum. Before he even knew our ways, you frightened him into silence.¡± The two powerful men glared at each other for at least a minute, neither yielding in their silent battle of wills. Finally, the Castellan folded his arms. ¡°He can join the classes as of tomorrow. You can compensate him for those three weeks out of your budget as he falls under your command.¡± ¡°I have already promised him a vial of blood boiling elixir.¡± The Castellan rolled his eyes. ¡°A waste of resources. Has he even shown proficiency in cultivation?¡± ¡°When Harridan has the ear of the Lord General, I do not intend to be portrayed in a negative light,¡± the Marshal said. ¡°How calculating of you,¡± the Castellan said. ¡°Fine. I will match your grandiose gesture. Ward Harridan may spend fifteen minutes in the cosmic chamber. After he demonstrates proficiency in aural cultivation. Does this satisfy you, Ward Harridan?¡± ¡°Yes, Master Castellan.¡± Chapter 14 Hector woke to the assault of a wet tongue. ¡°No kisses, Jasmine!¡± The pit bull perked up at hearing her name, looking quite pleased with herself. A quick check of the time revealed that it was only ten at night. He had only been unconscious for a few hours. Over time, each dream had grown to cover more time from Volithur¡¯s life. The initial experience had covered less than a day in a night of sleep and now he was experiencing an entire week in a few hours. Jasmine¡¯s entire rear end wagged along with her tail as she head butted him in a demand for attention. Hector pushed her away so he could get out of bed, then lifted the dog to carry her out of his bedroom into the hall. ¡°Jen, don¡¯t let the dogs into my room,¡± he shouted. ¡°It wasn¡¯t me. Jasmine knows how to use doorknobs,¡± came the response. ¡°So you¡¯re a Velociraptor now?¡± The dog smiled up at him agreeably. ¡°I don¡¯t want to sleep with you. Consent, Jasmine. Consent.¡± Jasmine barked at him. ¡°You can¡¯t just claim an unconscious person wanted it. Haven¡¯t you ever seen an episode of Law and Order?¡± She tilted her head to the side. ¡°The SVU spin-off, not the one with all the murders.¡± Another bark. ¡°I¡¯ve never actually seen Paw Patrol, so I can¡¯t say if the comparison is valid. Though I doubt a children¡¯s show addresses the issue of sexual assault.¡± Jasmine moved forward to press her sturdy head against him. Hector patted her on the back and started walking to the living room, the dog following close enough to throw off his walking gait with random bumps. Jennifer sat cross-legged with the blind miniature collie in her lap, a look of intense concentration on her face. ¡°Are you cultivating life energy from a dog right now?¡± Jennifer¡¯s eyes glanced towards him before moving back to the dog in her lap. ¡°You don¡¯t ¡®cultivate¡¯ life energy. I think that term is exclusive to the Xian.¡± ¡°Absorbing energy seems a lot like cultivating.¡± ¡°If I absorbed life energy from an elderly dog, I would be murdering her.¡± Hector frowned. ¡°Then what is your process?¡± ¡°It¡¯s like breathing. Take and give, take and give.¡± ¡°And deplete the air of oxygen?¡± ¡°What? No. I¡¯m not consuming life energy. We¡¯re sharing it back and forth.¡± ¡°You¡¯re just moving energy back and forth? That¡¯s it?¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t need to be complicated, Hector.¡± ¡°Are there more advanced techniques that you will switch to at some point?¡± ¡°Why would there be any techniques?¡± Hector shrugged. ¡°To attune your soul to a specific energy?¡± ¡°My body is alive, Hector. The dogs are alive, too. Life energy is everywhere once you know how to feel it. All you need to do is pass it into and out of your soul and nature will take its course. I never had to use a technique to grow from a child into an adult. I just kept breathing and eating and it happened on its own. There aren¡¯t any ¡®techniques¡¯ to study or ¡®skills¡¯ to learn. It¡¯s about letting things happen.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Hector¡¯s brow drew down. ¡°Then out of the billions of people on this planet, why did no one ever figure out how to use life energy? Think of all those mystics who sit around meditating. None of them were ever able to demonstrate any proof that life energy even existed.¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s easy to explain,¡± Jennifer said. ¡°All the energies on Earth are jumbled together. I bet all the monks and martial artists were circulating energy with their souls but didn¡¯t have the experience to separate out life from the rest of it. I wouldn¡¯t know how to do it either if I didn¡¯t have the memories of Justice to guide me.¡± Hector pondered the words for a moment. ¡°And the method is working?¡± ¡°There¡¯s life energy all over the place. It would be a whole lot faster if I was trying to be an Alfar instead of a dog kin.¡± ¡°And¡­ why would you choose the dog thing instead of the Alfar thing?¡± Jennifer¡¯s cheeks reddened as she studiously avoided eye contact. ¡°Maybe because people are hard, Hector. All the expectations, all the lying, all the manipulation. Dogs are just joyful creatures. Food, cuddles, walks, and they¡¯re happy.¡± Her volume dropped as she continued. ¡°Some people think we get the dreams that fit us best. I get to experience living with a wolf pack. You¡­ get to spend all day exercising and working. It¡¯s not exactly a big stretch for you.¡± Hector snorted. ¡°If Volithur had even a little discipline he would be ten steps ahead. I would like to grab the kid by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. He¡¯s been through some trauma very recently, I get it. But the world he is in now requires commitment if he wants a better future.¡± ¡°This is exactly what I was talking about. You¡¯re a better Xian than the actual Xian you remember.¡± ¡°Very recently you were claiming I was definitely a Jinn.¡± ¡°Because the Jinn like to upload their minds to machines. I don¡¯t actually know very much about them other than that.¡± ¡°And you know about the Xian?¡± Jennifer shrugged. ¡°Maybe not directly, but Justice heard enough. The Arahant coming to your planet meant you were going to be ¡®civilized¡¯. The Jinn coming to your planet meant resource extraction and abduction of your most talented children. The Xian coming to your planet meant they wanted a training exercise for their armies.¡± Hector couldn¡¯t find any fault in her words. ¡°Well, what about the Alfar or the Beast Kin? What happened when they went to a planet?¡± ¡°Hector, you can¡¯t rip holes in reality to travel the multiverse with life energy. The Alfar existed on multiple planets because the Arahant like how they influenced the environment.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Hector squinted at his estranged wife. ¡°And that doesn¡¯t make you want to consider a different type of energy?¡± ¡°You mean switch from a healing and nurturing energy like life to something that would let me more easily slaughter my way across worlds? No thanks, Hector.¡± ¡°Powerful Xian supposedly become immortal.¡± Jennifer arched a brow. ¡°And what about the average Xian? Do they live long?¡± ¡°Well, uh, I¡¯m not really sure about that, but there would have to be benefits to body enhancement even at the beginner levels.¡± ¡°Life energy is naturally suited to increasing longevity. Even the weakest Alfar can live for hundreds of years just from communing with nature a few times a day. I doubt it is that easy for a Xian. It definitely isn¡¯t for the Jinn, or they wouldn¡¯t need to turn themselves into robots.¡± Hector¡¯s thoughts went to his father. ¡°What do you know about Ogres?¡± ¡°They¡¯re bad,¡± Jennifer said. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°They steal life instead of sharing it. A few Ogres can take down an entire ecosystem if they aren¡¯t stopped in time. The Alfar actually consider them a more dangerous problem than the Strigoi. A Strigoi might drain enough vitality to kill a victim, but a single Ogre is a walking famine.¡± ¡°An Ogre is worse than a literal vampire?¡± ¡°They¡¯re not quite vampires. No pointy teeth or blood drinking. They drain victims by touch.¡± Hector nodded in thought. ¡°And how fast does an Alfar become an Ogre?¡± ¡°Justice became a wolf kin in a couple of months. I assume it would be the same for Ogres and Strigoi. The process isn¡¯t really understood well. You can only deviate from the Alfar path as a child.¡± ¡°Or presumably as an adult who just learned how to use soul energy,¡± Hector added. Jennifer glanced to the dog in her lap. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to do some more mental cultivation. Keep Jasmine with you.¡± Bonus Chapter: Persuasion Interlude Caroline Echo, the Sage of Persuasion, knocked on a nondescript wooden door within the quiet sector of the Svarga embassy. She pushed some illusory energy into the physical act through her domain as she would empower a ritual, guiding it with the persuasion insight encoded into her realm. The occupant of the room should perceive her imposition to be a welcome interruption. She usually endeavored to be subtle with her mental manipulations, but sometimes simple and blunt was best. Everyone expected her to play with their thoughts anyway. ¡°Enter,¡± Earnest called. When she pulled open the door, the expectation on his face faded into concern. ¡°Persuasion. This is certainly unexpected.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not so frightening as your manners might suggest, Transit.¡± Earnest folded his arms. ¡°What is it you want me to do?¡± ¡°Are you really so busy you cannot have a polite conversation with a fellow sage?¡± Her talent worked best when applied obliquely rather than directly. A nice chat was so much better than blunt speech. A fact her peers were well aware of. It made things difficult at times. ¡°It is not that I am busy at the moment, Persuasion. It is that I am a key asset in the reconquest of Aes and suspect you would make other claims on my time. Speak your request so that I can decline it.¡± Caroline laughed, putting a hint of flirting in there. She caught the slight blush of his cheeks and knew her manipulation had landed. Before he could question his reaction, she spoke again. ¡°Why would I want to pull you away from the reconquest?¡± She pushed a hint of guilt towards him with a deft touch. Too much and he¡¯d know it was artificial. ¡°Then we are in agreement that I won¡¯t leave my post?¡± ¡°Won¡¯t leave your post? Earnest, you are the Sage of Transit. You can walk between worlds as easily as I walk between rooms.¡± Feel pride, Earnest. He leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up. ¡°I am a sage, after all.¡± ¡°Do you exhaust yourself opening portals? Or is it all resonance with your true insight?¡± Earnest shrugged. ¡°It does use some illusory energy. Far less than a portal ritual ¨C even the variation that uses the soil of another world for a sympathetic bridge. Even the Lord General can¡¯t move between universes for free.¡± Caroline¡¯s eye twitched. ¡°I¡¯ve recently had the pleasure of making Thrakkar¡¯s acquaintance.¡± That earned a laugh from Earnest. ¡°You poor thing. A Xian lord must be completely immune to your mental manipulations. My advice is to avoid him in the future.¡± She might as well strike now, since the conversation had wound close to where she had intended to steer it. ¡°The Lord General is joining us on the latest campaign of the Coalition Army. I¡¯m joining them to ensure Kevin and Thrakkar don¡¯t kill each other.¡± Earnest¡¯s forehead wrinkled in surprise. ¡°War Barge Kevin and the Lord General are going to be part of the same army? Why? Couldn¡¯t you dissuade them?¡± ¡°The Lord General respects Kevin.¡± ¡°He spent half a century trying to murder him!¡± ¡°And he failed every time. I¡¯m convinced that Thrakkar views his rivalry with Kevin as a high stakes game they played together. I can¡¯t touch Thrakkar¡¯s mind, but I don¡¯t think I need to keep him in line. If I prevent the Jinn from overreacting to any of the inevitable provocations, the alliance should hold strong. We¡¯ve all agreed to kill monsters, not each other.¡± Earnest snorted. ¡°Good luck with that. Wait. Are you the only sage joining the Coalition Army for this campaign?¡± He looked appropriately concerned. Caroline would have been panicking if she didn¡¯t have any muscle representing the Arahants. ¡°Hardly. I am bringing Conflagration.¡± ¡°Oh. Wow. I thought he was meditating on the flames at the natural gas crater.¡± The Sage of Conflagration was a unique existence, obsessed with fire to a degree that made many question his sanity. True insights could grow stronger with study, it was true, but the investment of effort was immense and not guaranteed to produce fruit. Insights came on their own schedule. Trying to force them was a fool¡¯s errand. Though she didn¡¯t think Conflagration a fool. The man¡¯s fascination with fire simply could not be satisfied.Stolen novel; please report. Getting Conflagration to leave behind the eternally burning crater had been quite a victory for Caroline. Her persuasive talent didn¡¯t allow her to puppeteer a powerful existence into doing her will. She had to find an argument capable of convincing him before she made a push. And she¡¯d found one. When the Coalition Army found worlds too far gone, the Jinn torched them with antimatter. Conflagration had never seen an entire planet burn. Not yet, at least. ¡°Conflagration understands the danger we¡¯re in,¡± Caroline said. ¡°Every unempowered world that has its soul corrupted creates additional waves of monsters. We need to stop the chain reaction before it spreads too far.¡± Earnest nodded. ¡°I understand that. It¡¯s important work, Persuasion. But I¡¯m not going to join this campaign of the Coalition Army.¡± ¡°Why do you think the reconquest of Aes is more important than stopping the propagation of monsters? That world is already lost.¡± ¡°You see, that¡¯s the thing. It¡¯s not lost yet. It¡¯s in the process of being lost.¡± Earnest balled up his fists. ¡°You should be convincing the Coalition Army to focus on Aes. We can never allow a true world to be corrupted.¡± Caroline thought of all the objections she could make. The miasma was so thick on parts of Aes that not even Xian Lords dared step foot there. Certainly Jinn weapons and Arahant rituals couldn¡¯t influence reality through the chaotic haze. Not only was Aes certainly lost, the reconquest would never be successful. The Sage of Transit had to constantly cycle warriors in and out of the battlefronts so that they could recover from miasma exposure before redeployment. ¡°Why such loyalty to the Aes campaign, Transit? It¡¯s been close to half a century now. In all that time you¡¯ve only taken brief breaks to restore your energy on Maya. People say you have gone native from all the time you spend on Union Central. Surely that isn¡¯t true.¡± Earnest folded his arms. ¡°I am following the directions of Foresight.¡± Caroline stared. Levinia had set this up? That bitch. Playing her games even from the grave. ¡°Foresight is dead, Transit. She doesn¡¯t dictate strategy any longer.¡± ¡°Maybe not for anyone else.¡± Earnest shook his head. ¡°Not even you will be able to move me on this, Persuasion. There are only two ways I will ever cease my efforts. Either I die or the reconquest succeeds.¡± She gritted her teeth. ¡°What did Levinia tell you?¡± ¡°If any true world falls, humanity ends everywhere. She asked me to keep fighting for Aes no matter what happens.¡± ¡°Was this before she died on her ill-advised sightseeing trip to Aes?¡± ¡°She gave me my instructions the day before she departed.¡± Caroline¡¯s laugh sounded forced even to her. It hardly mattered. She doubted Transit would be swayed no matter how hard she pushed. Reality warped around level ten souls in a manner that was as undeniable as it was subtle. If Transit was dead set on his course of action, Caroline¡¯s efforts wouldn¡¯t change his core convictions. Still, Caroline wouldn¡¯t pass up a chance to insult the memory of her one-time friend and long-term rival. Levinia screwed her over too many times and her final act screwed over the entire multiverse. ¡°You realize that her sight isn¡¯t foolproof, don¡¯t you? Foresight waltzed right to her death.¡± Earnest looked to the ground. ¡°She knew what would happen.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous!¡± Caroline shook her head. ¡°Levinia was overconfident. She made a mistake.¡± ¡°She told me she had to sacrifice herself. It was the best future she could bring about.¡± The man still looked down and now Caroline saw tears dripping from his cheeks. ¡°How is this the best future? We are constantly on the verge of disaster, Transit. Do you know that the isolationist wing of the Mercom Jinn almost gained a majority in their last election? If they pull their war barges from the Coalition Army, we lose the ability to purge corrupted worlds.¡± ¡°Foresight¡­ she said if humanity lasted a single decade, her gamble was worth it.¡± The room suddenly grew cold. They were approaching the fifth decade since Aes fell and Levinia passed. By the holy ones, did she commit suicide? Were things really so bad, even back then? Earnest gestured towards the door. ¡°You should go, Persuasion. I won¡¯t abandon my post. No matter how much I hate sending the weak fools from Union Central to their deaths.¡± Caroline put a hand to her forehead. ¡°Command refuses to spend more lives on Aes. I can¡¯t change their minds on such a firm position any more than I can yours. Even if it is as dire as you say.¡± ¡°If you want to help, tell the government of Promise City that the reconquest is important. Public support is declining.¡± She sighed. ¡°I can do that much for you.¡± ¡°Thank you, Persuasion.¡± ¡°I am happy to be of service, Transit.¡± As Caroline left behind the embassy, she felt the weariness in her heart grow deeper. Events constantly spiraled downward. Her best efforts did no more than delay the inevitable. They needed the Xian to be more involved in the Coalition Army, so she had to leave Maya for a time to prevent conflict between Thrakkar and Kevin. While she was gone, the Assembly of Svarga would be certain to move deployed resources back home to protect the world of Maya. In the long term, that was only placing the home world in more danger. Yet the Representatives would bow to the fears of their constituents without her there. Everything was bad and getting worse. Caroline squared her shoulders as she planned how she would scare the government of Promise City into providing more soldiers for the Aes reconquest. However dire things might become, she wasn¡¯t going to give up. Nor would she let herself believe that Levinia had done so. Chapter 15 When he arrived for breakfast, the Sergeant himself approached Volithur with a vial of blood boiling elixir. ¡°Ward Harridan, the Marshal has provided the elixir for you. It is best taken after a meal.¡± The Sergeant bowed as he handed over the vial. ¡°It is a blend of powdered black tea leaves, powdered peppermint leaves, juice of lime, and a sliver of ginger ¨C all sourced directly from the Xian home world of Tian. The ingredients are steeped in mineral water infused with cosmic energy and then cooled to room temperature for superior absorption.¡± Volithur accepted the vial with a bow and word of thanks, then joined the food line. The soldiers and recruits in the room cast furtive glances in his directions over bowls of rice porridge topped with salted fish and pickled vegetables. As he sat with his own bowl and began to eat, Thassily leaned closer with wide eyes. ¡°What is happening, Harridan?¡± Volithur kept his tone low as he responded, hoping his friend would remain true. ¡°Do you remember the ceremony where we received our wardships?¡± Thassily snorted. ¡°I mostly remember being scared to the threshold of death.¡± ¡°Do you remember the Lord General speaking with me?¡± ¡°Yes. He didn¡¯t do that for the rest of us. You¡­ looked like someone?¡± ¡°He thought I looked like one of his attendants who died a while ago. And he said maybe I would take the guy¡¯s place. I guess that¡¯s a big deal around here.¡± Thassily frowned in thought. ¡°Well, I guess that¡¯s good. Elixirs are good, at least.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Volithur considered the vial on the table before him. He had not done very well absorbing the moon water elixir, but this one was higher quality. No doubt it would prove beneficial to him. Though not as beneficial as it would to someone with more talent. Volithur glanced at Thassily. The boy was scarfing down his breakfast, a look of dull contentment on his face. Thassily was taller, heavier, stronger, faster, and superior at cultivation. Based on their experiences working together, Volithur also felt confident that his friend was more diligent at putting in the necessary work. The boy was better than him in almost every way that mattered in this new environment. And Volithur¡¯s lies would likely shift resources away from Thassily towards himself. Volithur wanted those resources. He also wanted to defraud the fifth household of some of its wealth. But he did not want to hold back his friend. ¡°Thassily,¡± he whispered, ¡°Drink down all of your water and place the cup close to me.¡± ¡°Why?¡± His friend¡¯s question came out too loud, highlighting the area of Volithur¡¯s superiority: cunning calculation. ¡°Quiet! I¡¯m going to share some of my elixir with you, but no one can know what we do.¡± Thassily blinked at him. ¡°Harridan, you need the elixir. You¡­ you aren¡¯t very good at cultivating.¡± ¡°I know. The elixir is going to be wasted on me. That¡¯s why I want you to get some of it.¡± Thassily¡¯s eyes darted back and forth between Volithur and the vial. ¡°But you need it.¡± ¡°I am going to make my fortune around here based on resembling a dead man, Thassily. You have to do the same on hard work and talent. Just empty your cup now.¡± Thassily hesitated only a moment longer, then drained his cup in a single chug before slamming it back to the table. Volithur cringed at the sound, but no one else in the chaotic bustle of breakfast seemed to notice. He uncapped the vial, tilted half of its contents into his mouth, then poured the rest into the empty cup with the least suspicious motion he could manage. As cool minty tea slid down his throat, Thassily took another gulp of liquid and shared a bright smile with him. Volithur finished the remnants of his meal, drank the rest of his water, and stared at the empty vial. He felt nothing more than the satiety of a recent meal. ¡°How long is it supposed to take?¡± Thassily poked at his belly in a suspicious manner that made Volithur clench his teeth. ¡°Does it not work if you take half the dose? Harridan, I hope I didn¡¯t ruin your chance to catch up.¡±The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The Sergeant gave the five minute warning, so they bussed their bowls and spoons. Volithur gave the vial back to the Sergeant, who held the glass container up to the light briefly before turning it upside down over his mouth to accept the last two drops that were shaken free. Then the Sergeant winked at him before yelling a one minute warning. The morning continued on as normal. Mobility work blended into balance work blended into holding poses. Volithur forced himself to follow along with the rest of the group in spite of muscular aches that had taken residence in his body over a week ago and refused to leave. Then came weaponless combat. Instructor Gordo paired Volithur with one surly degenerate after another. He did his best to protect his face but found himself reaching on his blocks, which he instinctively did in spite of understanding that it left him overextended and out of place to intercept follow-up strikes. During his turns to play offensively, Volithur made sure not to be too aggressive for fear of inviting retribution. Yet he also avoided being too soft, which he knew from experience only invited sadistic contempt. He had been dropped by liver shots several times, which Instructor Gordo actually encouraged as a ¡®punishment¡¯ for weakness. As the sparring drills continued, Volithur eventually found himself paired with a wiry man from the militia who was closest in size to him. Instructor Gordo called a halt before the two of them could even start. A sense of disappointment briefly rose up in Volithur. ¡°Gather round, everyone,¡± Instructor Gordo commanded, ¡°Ward Harridan is going to have his first smoker. His opponent for this is Little Nero.¡± Little Nero looked as surprised as anyone. ¡°You sure about this, Gordo? He¡¯s soft yet.¡± ¡°Quite sure. Ward Harridan has an urgent need to awaken his fighting spirit.¡± ¡°Might smother it, instead,¡± Little Nero said. Instructor Gordo shrugged. ¡°Awaken, smother, just so long as you give Harridan a real fight.¡± ¡°As you command, Instructor Gordo,¡± Little Nero muttered. He caught Volithur¡¯s eye. ¡°Keep your guard up for once, kid. I won¡¯t be playing.¡± Instructor Gordo stepped between them, brought one hand to point towards each of them, and then brought them together in a resounding clap. ¡°Fight!¡± Throughout the entire run-up, Volithur had been frozen like a mouse before a cat, but as Little Nero advanced on him with hands up, a terrible urge to flee seized him. Volithur turned tail and ran. He only made it a few steps before rough hands from the circled crowd caught him, spun him about, and pushed him towards his opponent. His heart beating, Volithur cast his gaze about for a path of escape. There was none. All he could do was take his beating and try to minimize the damage he took. Little Nero jabbed at his face. Volithur threw up both hands. The next strike hit him in the liver, causing his legs to go wobbly as the pain hit. As Volithur hit the ground, invisible cables of power threw him back onto his feet. ¡°No easy outs today,¡± Instructor Gordo announced. ¡°Keep beating him until he fights back for real, Little Nero.¡± The fists came at his face again. Volithur went to block in his usual fashion, but knew he would be opening himself up for another body shot. He pulled his block short instead, absorbed the first strike, returned his elbows to his ribs in time to catch the second strike, and ate a hook to his jaw. Volithur swayed, almost went down, and noticed Little Nero standing with both hands at his sides, not even deigning to defend himself. Volithur whipped back around and drove his fist hard into Little Nero¡¯s nose. The man fell backwards onto his tailbone. He reached up to test the integrity of his nasal architecture, gave a slow nod to Volithur, and stood. ¡°It¡¯s on, then.¡± With those words, Little Nero charged forward. Volithur ate fist after fist, never managing to block more than one strike at a time as he flailed about. The flurry of fists continued, knuckles impacting with jarring force that brought flashes of pain and panic. Volithur¡¯s core and limbs began to grow hot from the combat. He stumbled about, trying to escape, only to be pushed back into the fight by the spectators. Strikes came again and again, landing more often than not. And then they stopped. Volithur moved his hands out of his line of sight long enough to catch sight of Little Nero gasping for air like he had just completed the afternoon conditioning session. Meanwhile, every bit of exhaustion had fled Volithur during their battle. Watching his opponent sway on his feet, barely able to stay upright, Volithur had a flash of insight. He glanced wide-eyed at Instructor Gordo, who winked at him and mouthed ¡®blood boiling elixir¡¯. The sensation of fiery heat within his body grew ever more fierce as he stood there. Instructor Gordo clapped his hands. ¡°Well, that wasn¡¯t nearly as bad as it could have been. Ward Harridan not only survived, he even knocked Little Nero down once. It looks like the boy has some potential after all. Everyone else back with your original partner for a round of light sparring. Little Nero, take a seat before you tip over. Ward Harridan, grab a shower and wait in the dining hall for someone to collect you.¡± Chapter 16 The cold water barely sufficed to quench the endless waves of heat radiating from his flesh. For once, Volithur did not miss heated water. He felt as if he might catch on fire. Strangely, the heat did not bother him. Indeed, he felt strong and energetic. The tapestry of bruises on his body were a pale yellow, as if they had been healing for days already even though many of them had been refreshed minutes ago. The blood boiling elixir managed to not only live up to its odd name, but also its hallowed reputation. The soreness that had plagued him since he began his training had vanished entirely. He left the shower before he could use all the water, dressed in a fresh uniform, and went to wait in the dining hall. The Sergeant stopped in just a few minutes later. ¡°How are you feeling, Ward Harridan?¡± ¡°Hot,¡± Volithur said. ¡°It can be quite intense.¡± ¡°It healed all my aches.¡± ¡°Well¡­ I doubt that. Your body is pumped full of cosmic energy at the moment. It¡¯s not an inherently healing energy. A powerful master can use it like that, but a beginner like you is only able to harness motive power. Your movements become stronger, the fluids move swifter through your body, and the swelling of tissue declines for a time.¡± The Sergeant smiled at Volithur. ¡°Shall we begin your private cultivation lesson?¡± ¡°You are teaching me, Sergeant?¡± ¡°One of my top priorities is shaping you into a noble¡¯s footman. Based on the meager talents you have shown so far, that will be no minor undertaking, Ward Harridan.¡± ¡°Sorry, Sergeant.¡± The Sergeant grunted. ¡°The Lord General mostly forgets the fifth household exists. When he does remember, it is typically to exile his less promising descendants away from the first and second households. We are not a significant component of the Shaocheth estate. There is a good chance the Lord General doesn¡¯t return for the footman he asked to be trained. But if he does remember¡­ if he does return for you¡­ we will have done our part. Whether you like it or not, we will also ensure that you have done your part. A lot of hard work is in your future, Ward Harridan.¡± ¡°I will do my best, Sergeant.¡± ¡°Good. Now I want you to begin cultivating the blood boiling elixir. Do just as you did with the moon water elixir. Inhale and exhale from your soul using your body aperture. Once you have that down, we can move on to more advanced methods.¡± Volithur struggled to figure out the basic method for a few minutes. Always before he had exercised to draw forth energy from his soul into his body, then allowed his soul to draw back the cosmic energy in his flesh. No one had ever taught him how to do that without the exercise. Apparently, having exchanged energy in the past had given him enough proficiency that he could manage without the exercise. No doubt his efforts were aided by the fact that his body was overflowing with cosmic energy that pushed against his soul aperture. He simply figured out how to relax the metaphysical orifice and energy poured into his soul. He then managed to push the energy back out without much challenge, establishing an in-and-out rhythm. Volithur¡¯s body slowly lost the intense burn sensation as he cultivated. A sense of pride filled him. He might not have achieved this through talent, but he had in fact been responsible for his current situation. Deceiving his captors and seizing their resources for his own deserved some appreciation, by his estimation. The rhythm of body cultivation continued for a time. Volithur quickly learned that if he went too quickly his body didn¡¯t gain enough heat for the inhalations to be worthwhile. Similarly, if he went too slowly, he would once more grow uncomfortably warm. Keeping a good pace balanced the two extremes and made his soul tingle. ¡°You¡¯re doing great so far,¡± the Sergeant said. ¡°But now I want you to begin directing the exhalations from your soul into individual bones. At this point I don¡¯t expect you to have a strong grasp of your bone structure, so only focus on the big, obvious ones. The skull or one of the femurs. Exhale into the bone of your choice, then inhale from your entire body. We¡¯re combine body cultivation, the pulling of energy into the soul from the body, with body enhancement, the permanent improvement of the body.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. The exercise continued, with Volithur directing the energy from his soul into his skull. He did this for perhaps an hour before the cosmic energy in his body began to drop off precipitously. The Sergeant grunted. ¡°I was hoping that would last longer. No matter. You are off to a good start. Stay here until lunch and practice what we worked on. Use every last dreg of the elixir to accomplish something. After noon bread I will walk you over to the classroom.¡± The Sergeant left for a time while Volithur continued to cultivate. Though he was no longer overflowing with cosmic energy, his body still held enough that every effort was ten times more productive than it would normally be. He forced down a twinge of regret for sharing the elixir with Thassily. He didn¡¯t need to hoard every opportunity for himself when the household was committed to his training. Soon enough, a runner arrived with a pack on his back stuffed full of loaves. The girl set out the bread on the serving table while making eyes at him. Volithur sat in silence, pretending not to notice the attention on him. When everything was arranged to her satisfaction, the girl strode over to where he sat. ¡°Are ya one of the soldier recruits, fellow?¡± ¡°I¡¯m a ward of the Lord General,¡± he said. ¡°A ward of the Lord General,¡± the girl repeated. She flashed a wide smile, revealing several missing teeth in her pock-marked face. ¡°Must be nice. When the Xian took my world, I got dragged away from me mom¡¯s bakery to indenture at the palace kitchen here.¡± Some of the stiffness in Volithur¡¯s shoulders eased. ¡°You lost your family to the Xian, too?¡± ¡°What was left of it. Pox came through my town and wiped out a ton of folk. About a year after, the Xian show up and take any who look useful. Me mom looked useful in a way she didn¡¯t care to be used, if you take me meaning. They didn¡¯t care for the word ¡®no¡¯ and that was it for her. I didn¡¯t want to work for their type, but a kid don¡¯t have much recourse against Xian soldiers.¡± ¡°They popped my parent¡¯s heads like grapes right in front of me,¡± Volithur said, his tone strangely cavalier. He didn¡¯t like how casual the conversation felt. He should be raging or crying when he spoke about the crimes done to his parents. ¡°Aye, that¡¯s how they keep the blood from their uniforms,¡± the girl said. She nodded at him. ¡°Must be hard training with the soldiers.¡± Volithur shrugged. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t really matter if it was.¡± ¡°They don¡¯t give many options, do they?¡± The girl held out her hand abruptly. ¡°My name is Ava of Yelling. Just call me Ava. They don¡¯t like me using the name of my town.¡± ¡°They call me Ward Harridan around here.¡± Volithur took the offered hand in his own. ¡°But my birth name is Volithur.¡± Ava¡¯s eyes sparkled as she smiled down at him, gaps in her teeth evident. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure meeting a fellow prisoner, Volithur who goes by Ward Harridan. They feed the soldiers well enough, but if you ever want richer fare from the kitchens, let me know and I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± ¡°Do they have chocolate?¡± ¡°Right for the jugular, this one,¡± Ava laughed. ¡°No chocolate around here. I might be able to get you a piece of lemon cake with a dusting of powdered sugar.¡± ¡°That sounds good, but I don¡¯t have anything to pay you back with.¡± Ava waved away his complaint. ¡°A friendly chat is more than most care to give. An indentured cook¡¯s assistant ain¡¯t hardly human to the palace folk. If you stay on at the barracks, might not be terrible having a soldier for a friend either.¡± She glanced towards the door. ¡°I¡¯ll be on my way now, Ward Harridan. One of these days, I¡¯ll get you a slice of that cake.¡± ¡°See you around, Ava.¡± As the girl rushed off, Volithur pondered the interaction. If he looked past the pock marks and the missing teeth, Ava wasn¡¯t entirely unappealing. Unhealthily thin, especially for someone who worked in a kitchen, but she had a defiant sparkle to her dark eyes that rooted itself in his memory. Or maybe that was just because of the appreciative looks she had sent his direction. In spite of much effort, Volithur had never been popular with the girls back home. Volithur placed those thoughts aside as he tore into one of the loaves. Apparently the Xian rampaged across multiple worlds, slaying unempowered humans like animals and bringing back fresh orphans as slaves. The fact bothered him less than it should. Why am I so numb to everything that happened? Don¡¯t I care what they did? The others trickled in and devoured bread. Thassily pulled him aside with excitement in his eyes. ¡°Harridan, my body is on fire. I swear I¡¯ve made more progress today than in all the time we¡¯ve been here.¡± Volithur clapped his friend on the shoulder. ¡°Good! Cultivate it while you can.¡± The Sergeant stepped through the door, caught sight of him, and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. ¡°Get a move on, Ward Harridan. We need to get you over to the palace before the afternoon session begins.¡± Chapter 17 The vitality that had filled Volithur drained away on the walk to the palace, leaving him exhausted and sore. It seemed his aches had not healed after all. The Sergeant gave him instructions as they approached the tiered pyramid. ¡°Always show up showered and in a fresh uniform. Don¡¯t be late. Sit in the back of the classroom with the other commoners. Don¡¯t speak unless you are directly addressed, and then be sure to use proper titles. If you don¡¯t know the rank of someone, call them master.¡± Volithur almost tripped. ¡°Are the other students nobles?¡± ¡°Of course they¡¯re nobles. Did you think a class in the palace would be full of groundskeepers? The senior staff are permitted to send their children to class as well, but the difference between the son of a Records Keeper and the untalented great-grandson of the Lord General is not so large. The difference between a ward and the noble students is comparably much more. Though your status might be greater in potential given you have the Lord General¡¯s favor. Any noble stationed at the fifth household does not hold such favor.¡± ¡°Why is there even a fifth household?¡± The Sergeant laughed. ¡°To tax the city outside the gates, of course. Money and conscripts are necessary to fight wars. And wars are necessary to gain prestige among the Lords of Tian. The Lord General has a Transit Sphere Externality, so he fields large armies and settles satellite households on conquered worlds.¡± Their conversation cut off as they entered the palace. They made quick time as they approached a corner room on the ground floor filled with bookshelves, the airy space illuminated by a series of skylights. Volithur took a deep breath through his nose, savoring the scent of books and wood. To one side of the library stood a door, beyond which awaited a classroom full of wooden desks arranged in neat rows before a chalkboard. A portly man whose chubby cheeks were partly concealed by facial hair met them at the door. The man sniffed as if he had encountered something unpleasant. ¡°You are Ward Harridan? I had expected a future footman of the Lord General to be more impressive.¡± The Sergeant cleared his throat. ¡°Ward harridan, this is the Head Scribe, who is in charge of education in the household. You are to obey his commands and work hard.¡± ¡°Your assistance is neither necessary or desired, Sergeant. Go swing a spear outside.¡± The Sergeant inclined his head. ¡°Excellent advice, Master Scribe. After all, spear work is the reason the Lord General set up this household.¡± ¡°Then be on your way, Sergeant.¡± The Head Scribe watched the Sergeant exit with narrow eyes, then turned to face Volithur. ¡°I hope you know your place better than your superior, Ward Harridan.¡± ¡°I am at your command, Master Scribe.¡± The Head Scribe lifted his nose into the air. ¡°As is proper. Seating in my classroom is by rank. You may take one of the four desks against the back wall. I can foresee no reason for you to speak. Sit quietly and absorb what learning you can.¡± A thought suddenly occurred to the Head Scribe. ¡°Can you read?¡± ¡°Yes, Master Scribe.¡± ¡°Can you perform calculations?¡± ¡°Yes, Master Scribe.¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. The Head Scribe considered him. ¡°Your etiquette is passable. If your reading and calculating are at a sufficient level, we might have a chance at properly educating you.¡± A dismissive flick of the wrist told Volithur that he should take a desk, so he obeyed the unspoken command in respectful silence. Everyone in the palace has to rub in their superior position at every opportunity. I guess I will just have to be secretly satisfied knowing that I fooled them all into treating me better than they would prefer. Fifteen minutes later, the room began to fill with other students. A boy of about his age sat down in the back row beside Volithur and bared his teeth in a smile. ¡°You are the Ward receiving an education, I presume?¡± ¡°Yes, Master.¡± The boy¡¯s smile grew wider. ¡°No need to be so formal. I am a commoner myself. I¡¯m Hazen, eldest son of the Records Keeper.¡± A girl at the front of the room drew his eye. Long chestnut hair, pale porcelain skin, full lips, and delicate features caused his breath to catch for a moment. She was quite possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Beside him, Hazen smirked. ¡°Ward Harridan, are you dreaming above your station?¡± Volithur blushed and pulled his gaze away from the beauty. ¡°I just looked to the front of the room for a moment, is all.¡± ¡°Rolanda is the gem of the fifth household. Sons of the family visit here on occasion to make her acquaintance. A commoner who appeared to be soliciting her attention would not be treated well.¡± Hazen placed a hand on Volilthur¡¯s shoulder. ¡°My best relationship advice would be to seek out a commoner girl of low station. There are many with passing looks and they would be filled with everlasting gratitude if you elevated their standing. It¡¯s a much happier outcome for everyone than if a jealous noble targeted you.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Volithur said, for want of a more intelligent response. Up front, the Head Scribe bowed to the class and began a lecture on proper manners when interacting with people in various positions. How low to incline your head to a superior equal versus a true superior versus a chief superior. Where to stand. What to do with your hands. Proper protocol for opening doors, where to stand in mixed groups, even how loud to laugh at jokes. As ridiculous as the lecture seemed, the other students listened with rapt attention, nodding along to the bits they already knew and pondering thoughtfully on the more challenging material. Volunteers from among the more prestigious students would participate in demonstrations, provide answers, or pose questions while the back half of the room sat in strict observation of the proceedings. Volithur learned a lot. He suspected the information would prove a useful guide for the rest of his life. As much as he despised the fact that he existed in a society that valued such strict hierarchies and regimented social interactions, he had learned well his first lesson among the fifth household: improper decorum would not be tolerated. The lesson went on for an hour before they switched topics. Next came arithmetic, which the Head Scribe called calculations in a tone that gave it an esoteric air. The Head Scribe made oblique comments about how everyone present might not be able to understand the intricacies of the basic multiplication process he was demonstrating, which Volithur assumed were directed at him. Towards the end of that segment, the Head Scribe begged for everyone¡¯s full attention as he demonstrated division. Volithur schooled his features to prevent the sneer he felt on the inside from escaping. These people who looked down on him were confused by material he had mastered in elementary school on his own world. Judging by the time it took the Head Scribe to perform arithmetic in his head, Volithur thought it a good bet that he was the most knowledgeable mathematician in the room. At the end of the hour, they switched topics once more. This time they turned towards practicing a form of mental projection, what they called ¡®band communication¡¯. Volithur sat very still, his earlier pride in his academic prowess absent as he realized he lacked the necessary mental enhancement to participate. Indeed, he hadn¡¯t even realized telepathy was possible for the Xian. The end of the third hour arrived and the Head Scribe bowed to the class, thanked them for their attention, and wished them a good day. The students left the room en mass, strolling through the library to disappear into the depths of the palace. The Head Scribe held up a hand to stop Volithur before he could join the exodus. ¡°Ward Harridan, the bottom shelf behind the reading table has a set of beginner curriculum that I expect you to familiarize yourself with. You can use the time between the end of class and dinner to do your reading. Do not remove any of the books or smudge them with dirty fingers.¡± ¡°As you command, Master Scribe.¡± Chapter 18 Hector worked out like a maniac before buying seeds from a lawn and garden store and picking up some fresh produce from a grocery. He was still clenching his jaw and trying not to think about the disrespect he had been shown in his sleep. No, not him, Volithur had been shown disrespect. For over a week of class. And Volithur had accepted his lot in life. Not that there was much else to be done as a medieval serf surrounded by asshole wizards. He entered the hospital room to find his dad asleep and settled in to wait with the conspicuous bag of gardening supplies and fruits at his side. The life he experienced in his dreams had become more than a little tedious. While Hector had learned a good bit about cultivation that he could use, he also had his head stuffed full of ridiculous trivia like how loud you should laugh at a superior¡¯s jokes. The books Volithur had been instructed to read were nothing impressive, either. Volithur had progressed through half of them in just nine days. A couple of them were children¡¯s primers on reading. There were bound essays on court behavior, jokes to be memorized in case you were asked to tell one, and tomes describing in painstaking detail what both he and Volithur considered to be very simple math. The only book Volithur had seen any actual value in was the cultivation manual that outlined mental enhancement techniques. Though a prerequisite for using those techniques was attuning the soul to cosmic energy, gaining what was known as a first level soul. Hector didn¡¯t hold out much hope that Volithur would achieve a first level soul any time soon. His dream counterpart didn¡¯t seem to have any natural talent for cultivation. Thassily had reached the first level a few days after drinking the elixir. Meanwhile, the Sergeant seemed to be losing his patience with Volithur¡¯s slow progress. ¡°Did you bring the stuff?¡± ¡°Good morning to you, too, dad.¡± Hector reached into the bag and pulled out the paper envelopes the seeds had come in. ¡°I got green beans, peppers, cucumbers, squash, cantaloupe, corn, pumpkin ¨C¡± His dad took the envelopes out of his hands before he could finish reading them. ¡°I can read labels on my own, Hector.¡± With determination in his eyes, his dad opened each container, dumped tiny seeds onto his palm, and then dumped them onto the floor where they promptly collapsed into dust. The entire selection disappeared in two minutes, slowed only by the time it took a terminally ill old man to rip open paper containers. ¡°Not much life energy in seeds, it seems,¡± his dad said. ¡°Give me the fruit?¡± His dad ate one strawberry, then visibly drained the vitality from the rest of them until they appeared like dirty, desiccated husks. ¡°That¡¯s better.¡± In quick succession, grapes, a bunch of bananas, an orange, and a pineapple had the life drained from them. Hector carefully placed the remnants of the fruit back into the bag so he could dispose of them without drawing attention to what they had done. ¡°How are you feeling now?¡± His dad sighed. ¡°Hungry.¡± ¡°About time your appetite came back. What do you want?¡± ¡°Not the normal kind of hungry, Hector. The evil monster kind.¡± ¡°Dad, don¡¯t be dramatic about this.¡± ¡°My soul started resonating with life after your last visit.¡± ¡°The Xian call that a level one soul.¡± His dad rolled his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not cultivating, Hector. I¡¯m devouring. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve crossed a point of no return yet. I could probably back off, exchange energy like an Alfar, and avoid the path of the Ogre. But then I die of cancer in a few weeks.¡± ¡°We can figure out the Ogre thing. This isn¡¯t a primitive society. We have artificial fertilizers that can supercharge crop growth. You can beat cancer, reverse the aging process, and have fresh adventures.¡± His dad sank back into the pillows. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s how it works, Hector. I think once you go Ogre, you are just a vessel for the hunger. You feed until someone tries to stop you, then you rampage for a bit.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°This sounds an awful lot like a slippery slope argument,¡± Hector said. ¡°Slippery slopes take out a lot of elderly hips every winter.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s not stretch the analogy too far. What do you want me to bring you tomorrow?¡± His dad closed his eyes. ¡°Nothing, Hector. I don¡¯t think living longer is worth losing everything I value in myself. I just want to finish my dreams before the end. It would be a shame not knowing what happens.¡± Hector bit back an argument. ¡°So how are things with Deronto?¡± ¡°I think he¡¯s going to join that cult of tree worshipers.¡± ¡°Is that a good thing?¡± ¡°Might be.¡± Hector waited until he was sure his dad slept, then left the hospital. His thoughts bounced back and forth between the two issues consuming him. His dad¡¯s only chance at life was becoming an Ogre, which everyone thought a terrible fate. The only method for him to gain cosmic energy was to use mental cultivation. Whether or not Terry Thoreaux wanted to be an Ogre, the only problem that couldn¡¯t be solved was death. Lack of cultivation resources from the Xian home world made it almost impossible for Hector to attune his soul to cosmic energy. Thus he needed to convince his dad to keep absorbing life energy, which meant delivering fresh fruit to be drained daily. Since his mind was the only cultivation resource he had, Hector needed to enhance his abilities naturally. Potted herbs would be a good life source to try, considering how they grew like weeds. Maybe some energy drinks and brain boosting supplements to boost his mental endurance. The ping-pong back-and-forth continued unabated as he parked and walked into the warehouse. Upon entering his small office room, he promptly found himself confronted by the director of operations and the chief operating officer, who had claimed his seat and the guest seat. As he stood facing the two of them, his brain misfiring at the transition from life problems to work, the director of operations began the attack. ¡°It¡¯s after ten, Hector. First shift starts at seven on the dot.¡± The chief operating officer joined in. ¡°We understand you have the situation happening with your father, but this has been going on for months now. You wouldn¡¯t put up with this kind of thing from an employee, would you?¡± Hector gaped at them, mouth open in surprise. The director of operations leaned back in Hector¡¯s chair. ¡°We¡¯re not going to make a big deal about this. No need for a formal write-up. Just a friendly warning and you right your ways. Make sure you are on premises at the start of shift from now on. Okay?¡± The resentment that had built in his heart through every dream of Volilthur¡¯s mistreatment boiled free of Hector¡¯s heart. He leaned forward and slammed his meaty fist into the desk. ¡°Who the hell do you think you are, Todd?¡± He turned his glare to catch the chief operating officer in his attack. ¡°Same goes for you, Jerry.¡± Hector reached across his desk, seized the director of operations¡¯ tie, and pulled the terrified man towards him. ¡°You have a problem with me working the hours I do? Do you, Todd? Maybe I¡¯ll start working your hours, then. I can show up at eight every morning, take an hour lunch every day, and be at the golf course by five. I¡¯ll let my shift supervisors handle any problems off hours like you do. ¡°Now that I think about it, this is a great fucking idea. I would really enjoy working less than eighty hours a week. No more showing up for Saturdays. Is that what you want, Todd? Huh? Are you going to answer me, you pathetic little shit?¡± To one side, Jerry had plastered his back to the wall. ¡°Hey, hey now, Hector, let¡¯s calm down here. We didn¡¯t realize how tense things were at home. Why don¡¯t we all just forget this meeting happened?¡± Hector turned to face the coward. ¡°Fuck you, Jerry. I ought to resign on the spot. I have worked my ass off for this company most of my life and you want to barge into my office and lecture me? You¡¯ve underfunded my department for decades and I have pulled off miracles daily to get the job done. This place would fall apart without me and right now I might like to see that happen.¡± The COO¡¯s face had gone ashen. ¡°Please, Hector, don¡¯t do anything rash. We were in the wrong here. I see that. Can I get you a gift certificate to your favorite restaurant as an apology?¡± Hector stared down the man, enjoying the thrill of exerting his dominance for once. ¡°Here¡¯s my demands, gentlemen. If you want me to continue working at this company, then the two of you can do my job for the rest of today. Stay until midnight making sure everything gets out the door, then when I come in at this time tomorrow, we can have another chat to decide if I still work here or not. Quite frankly, I had enough money for an early retirement five years ago.¡± The exultation he felt as he slammed the door on his way out of the room stayed with him the rest of the day. Chapter 19 Volithur stole glances at Rolanda while the Head Scribe wrote on the chalkboard and prattled on about long division. He didn¡¯t feel like he had made hardly any progress at cultivation since the blood boiling elixir. The soldiers thought Thassily was a genius and had begun giving him more individualized instruction. Meanwhile, the Sergeant¡¯s private lessons became ever more awkward as Volithur failed to progress at every juncture. ¡°Ward Harridan, please come to the front of the room.¡± Volithur startled. Row after row of faces turned to peer back at him. With timid steps, he walked to the front of the room to stand before the Head Scribe in the exact proper mini-bow stance, feet oriented at forty-five degrees to his superior¡¯s, hands clasped before him and an ambiguously obsequious almost-smile on his face. ¡°Since your attention has been absent from my lecture, I can only assume you know the answer to this problem already. Please solve it while we watch.¡± The solution to this social situation had never been covered in class. Did he disobey his superior¡¯s direct command? Definitely not. But obeying would cause embarrassment for his superior, which would also be bad. The only way out of the conundrum seemed to be solving the math problem while giving a convincing performance. Volithur took the chalk and approached the board. With carefully acted hesitance, he began to work at the solution, pausing after each step as if unsure before continuing on to the next. He dragged it out, and several times shot convincing glances towards other problems still on the board as if seeking inspiration. When he finished, he bowed and offered the chalk back. ¡°I hope this satisfies, Master Scribe.¡± The Head Scribe gestured to the back of the room. ¡°It satisfies, Ward Harridan. Return to your seat and retain your focus on lessons this time. The Lord General did not request you receive an education because he wanted you to gawk at the girls.¡± Volithur slunk back to his seat under the titters and sneers of his betters. Hazen mimed smacking himself in the head when Volithur met his eyes. The Head Scribe, of course, made sure not to notice Hazen¡¯s behavior. The boy¡¯s father, it turned out, was the Head Scribe¡¯s boss. Everyone here had connections except for him. Well, they thought he had a shallow connection to the Lord General. That kept him in some degree of comfort, but Volithur dreaded the backlash if the members of the fifth household ever realized he was a nobody. Hopefully by that time he managed to make something of himself. His previous plan of rising up against the Lord General in revenge had been dismissed as the ravings of a fool. He would be fortunate to one day match up against an average soldier on this backwater world. Hoping for anything more was unrealistic. Rolanda drew his eyes once more, even as he willed them to turn any other direction. How so much beauty could be squeezed into one woman, he didn¡¯t understand. What made it even more unbearable were her actions. Rolanda held herself with grace and extended gentle kindness to everyone around her. She was like a damn fairy tale princess. Which would make him a random background character in the story, briefly and indirectly referenced in a line such as ¡°many young men would stare at her great beauty¡±. That was him. A cardboard cutout living in a universe where great men and women held the power of gods. But at least he was good at math. A few years of high school ensured he could calculate with the best of these uptight savages. The class transitioned to more of the telepathy stuff and, as usual, Volithur took that time to meditate on the nature of cosmic energy. The Sergeant had told him that he needed to reflect on its nature instead of just forcing mental cultivation. Inaccuracies in his conception would create inefficiencies in his practice. Or, to put it more bluntly, all of his hard work at mental cultivation wasn¡¯t doing much good because of his ignorance.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Unfortunately, Volithur didn¡¯t know how to meditate on the nature of cosmic energy. He had come to understand that any type of mental discipline was beneficial to the soul. The practice of meditating brought a momentary peace to his existence that he appreciated. So he continued with the practice. Mostly during the third segment of class. Society, script, and spirit. The three S¡¯s of education, as they said among the Xian. Script comprised reading, writing, and ¡®calculations¡¯. Spirit was mental enhancement and band communication. And society, paradoxically the most ridiculous and the most essential, was the art of interacting with nobility. At the end of class, the Head Scribe halted Volilthur¡¯s escape by stepping into his path. Volithur bowed. ¡°How may I be of assistance, Master Scribe?¡± ¡°The very same question I am considering, Ward Harridan. Your acting skill is lacking.¡± ¡°I apologize, Master Scribe?¡± ¡°On the contrary, Ward Harridan, today¡¯s events may prove to be fortuitous. A talent for calculation is of minor use outside of scribe work, but there is one unusual circumstance where it can be of great benefit. The local region holds an academic competition annually. The fifth household of the Shaocheth family has not historically done well at the calculation event.¡± Volithur¡¯s sense of opportunity began to twinge. ¡°I am quite good at calculations, Master Scribe, but the Marshal wants me to focus on my cultivation.¡± The Head Scribe¡¯s eyes twinkled. ¡°I understand your plight, Ward Harridan. You would require compensation for the time you were forced to be away from your training. That isn¡¯t an unreasonable request, in my estimation. We can barter over the value of your time once I establish your level of proficiency.¡± The Head Scribe proceeded to write a series of math problems on the board. They covered addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division of large numbers. When the chalk was presented to him, Volithur snatched it up and proceeded to rapidly solve each problem. Upon returning the chalk, he received a nod of respect from his teacher. ¡°Do you know of variable calculations?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know anything by that name, Master Scribe.¡± The Head Scribe stepped closer to the board and wrote out a simple algebra problem. Volithur took the chalk from his hand and solved it, then turned to make eye contact. The Head Scribe clasped his hands together in excitement. ¡°Hazen on spelling, Harridan on calculations, Ulysses on debate, and Khana on recital.¡± ¡°Assuming I¡¯m able to ¨C¡± ¡°Yes, yes, Ward Harridan, I¡¯m aware of your desire to extort resources from this opportunity. I would think less of a commoner in your position who didn¡¯t make the effort. I can offer you one tea powder elixir. That is coming out of my own allotment, so do not expect anything more.¡± Volithur considered the offer. He already was set to receive a tea powder elixir monthly. Would receiving a second for a month make much of a difference? He didn¡¯t know if this was a good deal or if he was being ripped off. He also couldn¡¯t tell if the Head Scribe was open to negotiations. Bottom line, he needed resources. ¡°Master Scribe, how long would I be away from my training?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a three day trip, Ward Harridan. You would be kept in comfort during that time and gain the respect of your fellow students.¡± ¡°The elixir you mentioned. Would that be provided daily?¡± The Head Scribe scoffed. ¡°Don¡¯t act the fool, Harridan. A single elixir is the most I will offer and enough to justify your efforts. At your level of cultivation, this is a deal you cannot afford to pass up.¡± Volithur sighed. ¡°I graciously accept, Master Scribe.¡± ¡°Graciously¡­¡± The Head Scribe looked like he was ready to chew rocks. ¡°If you want more, then ensure our team makes the final three. That earns you a full hour in the cosmic chamber of the Evergreen Institute.¡± ¡°What happens if we get first place?¡± ¡°The Evergreen Institute¡¯s team will take first as they always have, Ward Harridan. They hold this competition to demonstrate their academic superiority, using their cosmic chamber as incentive for the rest of us to send teams.¡±