I suppose it shouldn’t be too surprising. Why use blasting powder for mining or clearing debris when a good Art will do the trick? And with far less risk and effort as well. Still, I find it hard to believe that the Dominion hasn’t invested any time, money, and effort into developing explosives of some kind. Even Komdar can theorize of several ways to develop weapons of that kind using nothing but what the Realm has to offer. And as brilliant as he is (don’t tell him I said that by the way. His ego is already large enough as it is, in complete contrast to his physical stature), he is but one dwarf. And the Dominion, unfortunately, has several in their ranks focused on technological development. And that’s not even counting the human geniuses they must have after centuries of eugenic cultivation…

  -Excerpt from Arvad Malachi’s Musings

  Galen had been right. It had been a LONG conversation. It had taken hours for him to tell Aleksi, Lusha, and Komdar about the technology of his world and comparing notes to what the Dominion had. Redian had been a huge help on the topic as well, what with it being one of the Dominion’s weapons. At least, formerly.

  Tufani had been present as well, but she’d been completely confused by all the tech they talked about, so she’d decided to leave after Aleksi and Lusha promised to give her a simplified summary later.

  After their discussion was done, Komdar had eagerly taken his pistol to inspect. The dwarf looked like a kid given a shiny new toy to mess with. He made sure not to verbally state the comparison lest he give Komdar a sudden itchy trigger finger.

  After that, Galen decided to leave Aleksi and Lusha alone. No doubt husband and wife wanted to spend as much time together as possible before they separated for who knows how long. With that in mind, he bid them adieu and left the tent.

  When he got to his tent, he was greeted by the last person he’d been expecting.

  “Why, Champion! What a coincidence seeing you here,” Arvad Malachi grinned, “I mean, formerChampion. Pardon me.”

  “Arvad?” Galen raised a brow, “you’re still here?”

  The bard-like man raised his brows high, looking at him with surprise, “I must say. I’m used to people asking me that with FAR more disdain in their voice. Hearing you ask it with nothing but innocent curiosity is almost unnerving.”

  Arvad shuddered.

  Galen shook his head, “Uh huh… anyway, you seeing me here isn’t a coincidence.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  “This is my tent,” Galen pointed out.

  “So it is!” Arvad noted with a beaming smile.

  Galen gave him a questioning look, “Is this that part Aleksi warned me about? You know, where you annoy me?”

  “I do have that effect on people. Sadly, I’m not here to do that,” Arvad grew somber as he gestured outside the tent, “come, let us have a walk as we talk. There is something important I must tell you before you set out on your journey in three days.”

  Galen gave him a double take, “How did you know about-”

  “I eavesdropped,” Arvad shamelessly and bluntly stated as walked out.

  Against what was likely his better judgment, he followed.

  “How did you manage that without either Aleksi or Lusha realizing? Hell, Komdar was eavesdropping too, so how did HE not notice you?!” he asked the mysterious man.

  Arvad chuckled, clearly amused by his surprise, “Why, they aren’t infallible you know. No, they are prone to mistakes and have blind spots like anyone else.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” Galen noted.

  “Very astute of you,” Arvad responded sarcastically, “that’s because I wasn’t trying to answer it.”

  He sighed, “Alright then.”

  Arvad raised a brow, “Not going to press me for an answer?”

  “Will you give me one?”

  “Of course.”

  He looked the man up and down, scrutinizing him. There was one question that was REALLY bugging him. “Are you a bard?”

  Arvad froze, halting his stride as he raised another brow at him.

  “What?” Galen asked.

  “Of all the questions I expected you to ask, THAT certainly wasn’t one of them,” Arvad explained as he resumed his walk.

  He shrugged, “I figured you weren’t going to give me a straight answer to any of the more important or relevant questions I had.”

  “So you decided to trip me up by throwing a curve-ball instead of a straight shot?” Arvad asked.

  “Basically,” Galen gave him a mischievous smile.

  Arvad smiled widely, a twinkle in his eye, “Oh, you and I are going to get along just fine.”

  “Is that a good or bad thing?”

  “Depends on who you ask,” Arvad flicked the tip of his feathered hat upwards, “most would say no. Some would say, ‘void, no!’ Others might say, ‘winds, of course that’s a bad thing!’ Or, ‘by the riches of the earth, it’s a tragedy.’ ‘Oceanic tides, it’s terrible’ is another one. Or how about-”

  “Okay,” Galen interrupted with a drop of sweat, “I think I get it.”

  “Oh, come now, I was just getting to the interesting ones! Oh, well…”

  “You really aren’t well liked, are you?”

  “Ah, truly your levels of observation are astounding!”

  “I try. Now, are you going to answer my question about whether or not you’re a bard?”

  “I thought we established that you didn’t expect me to give straight answers,” Arvad pointed out. “I was only trying to live up to your expectations.”

  “You know darn well that I said that in reference to more important and relevant questions,” he reminded the man.

  “And doesn’t your question fall into the category of relevancy since it was recently asked?” Arvad shot back.

  Galen nodded, feigning an overly exaggerated look of defeat, “Darn. I guess you win this round.”

  Arvad gave a victorious smile.

  “I’ll just categorize you as a bard in my head since you refused to answer,” Galen jabbed.

  “Don’t you dare!” the bard protested.

  “Too late,” he smirked.

  “Blast it! I suppose this makes us even,” Arvad joked before chuckling and saying, “I must say, it is not often I find someone willing to trade barbs with me. I believe we really will get along, Galen Daxton. Now that we’ve thinned the ice with that bit of levity, let’s get to the real matter at hand.”

  “Which is? You still haven’t mentioned what the important thing you want to tell me is abo-”

  “It’s about Zareb,” Arvad interrupted, “or as you call him by his middle name, Aleksi.”

  Galen frowned, “What about him?”

  Instead of answering, the bard asked him, “Tell me, have you ever heard of someone called, ‘Morpheus’?”

  Galen’s frown deepened, “Morpheus? Uh, yeah. I- damn, I didn’t think I’d hear a name from the mythologies of my world here in this one.”

  “What’s this now?” Arvad asked, looking confused.

  “Isn’t that what you meant?” Galen asked back, now equally baffled, “Morpheus is the name of a god from one of the many mythologies of my world. I believe he was a god of dreams.”

  “Really now?” the bard seemed very amused for some reason, “well, I suppose that makes sense. As interesting as this is, however, that wasn’t what I meant. No, Morpheus is a name, more of a codename really, for one of the Shadows of Athanasius.”

  Galen gave him a look of confusion though Arvad simply ignored him and continued, “What I wanted to speak to you about was that specific Shadow. I believe you knew him as Milton the scribe.”

  His breath hitched in his throat. Feelings of betrayal and anger welled within him at hearing that name. He’d never allowed himself to grow super close to the supposed scribe, but he HAD begun to think that maybe…

  It doesn’t matter now, he reminded himself.

  Out loud, he asked the bard, “What about him?”

  “That man, well, I call him a man but he’s only a bit older than you. Though the Dominion laws officially recognize people as adults when they become fifteen years old. Far too young in my opinion, but that’s besides the point. That man is related to Zareb. By blood,” Arvad answered.

  Galen’s whole mind went blank, and his mouth became dry.

  “H-how…” he croaked out before his voice died in his throat. A feeling of panic was beginning to swell within hi-

  “Calm yourself,” Arvad whispered in a surprisingly gentle and soothing tone, “I assure you, on my life, that Zareb is by no means a traitor. As a matter of fact, Morpheus or Milton or whatever you want to call that Shadow is a big reason why Zareb decided to desert the Dominion’s army and join the Rebellion.”

  Galen managed to regain his composure, though his mind was riddled with questions.

  “What’s the story there?” he asked.

  “As much as I love telling stories,” Arvad sighed, “I’m afraid this is one I have no right to tell another. Not without Zareb’s permission. And even then, it’s best if he is the one to tell you. You’ll have no luck asking Lusha either. She won’t utter a word about something if she knows her husband doesn’t want it shared.”

  The bard paused for a brief moment before adding, “I will say this much, at least. Morpheus is Zareb’s nephew, the son of his sister. That is all I can say in regard to that tragic tale.”

  It took a moment for Galen to wrap his mind around the revelation. Though, he supposed he now knew why ‘Milton’ and Aleksi had seemed to resemble one another. That did raise the question, however, “If that’s true, then why didn’t Milton, or Morpheus rather, recognize Aleksi when he was infiltrating as a spy?”

  Arvad was quiet for a long moment, as if debating if he should say more. He seemed to come to a conclusion, as he sighed, “That’s because there was no way Morpheus could have recognized Zareb. For he was taken by the Dominion when he was but an infant. And THAT is all I will say on the matter.”

  There was a finality to the bard’s tone, so Galen didn’t press for more information. Instead, he asked, “Why tell me about this anyway?”

  “Because, Daxton,” Arvad looked him dead in the eye, completely serious and without a hint of mirth, “I know for a fact that Morpheus is personally leading the hunt for you.”

  Galen shuddered at the news, “He is?”

  The bard nodded, “Yes. And since you will be going with Zareb and Tufani’s daughter on that mission… well… I worry for Zareb. I worry about what he will do if he had to face his nephew in battle. I worry if he will be able to do what needs to be done… or if familial sentimentality will get in the way and cloud his judgment.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Arvad took a step closer, nearly bringing them face to face as the bard whispered to him, “I told you all that I have out of concern for a friend. And yes, I do consider Zareb a friend. A good one. So please, I ask of you to keep an eye on him. To watch out for him and keep him from being clouded by one sided sentimentality.”

  Galen gave a firm nod in response, “I will.”

  “Good. Good…” Arvad took a step back, “another reason I told you all this is because I doubted Zareb would have volunteered the information. And it is rather crucial intel to know, in my opinion. So if I were you, I’d confront him about it before you set off on your journey.”

  Arvad then gave him a playful wink, “If he gets mad, just blame me. Alright?”

  Galen nodded again, eliciting a smile from the bard, “Good. Now, I believe that is all I wished to discuss with you. Godspeed, Daxton. May the Maker watch over you.”

  They went their separate ways, though Galen barely walked a few paces before Arvad suddenly called out to him, “Oh, and just to be clear, when I said to confront Zareb, I didn’t mean RIGHT NOW. Or today at all really. In fact, I’d strongly discourage you from doing so unless you want to be scarred with embarrassment.”

  “Wait, why’s that?” Galen asked as he turned to give the bard a confused look.

  “Think about it, Daxton!” Arvad said with a mischievous smile, “a husband and a wife soon to be separated for who knows how long, each of their soon to be separate journeys wrought with danger? They are probably comforting each other as we speak, if you catch my meaning.”

  Galen frowned, then his eyes went wide with realization. His face flushed a deep crimson, as he stammered, “Oh… OH! Uh… right! Right! Got it…Thanks for the warning!”

  He tried to suppress the feelings of embarrassment he felt as he began to return to his tent.

  However, he only took a few steps before Arvad called out to him again, “Oh, and Champion?”

  “What?!” he turned, now feeling annoyed and hoping that what he said next wouldn’t nearly so mortifying.

  “You asked if I was a bard earlier,” Arvad smiled, “and I am! After a fashion.”

  Galen nodded, glad what the bard said hadn’t been as bad as he’d been expecting. As he turned to walk off, Arvad called out for the last time today, “As such, I will be keen to see where your story goes from here. Very, VERY keen.”

  He turned to ask the bard what he’d meant by that, only to find him suddenly gone. Poof. As if he’d never been there to begin with. Just like how he’d suddenly disappeared back when Galen had unknowingly met him for the first time back in his last day in Ignis.

  “That one,” Redian spoke in his mind, “is baffling!”

  I’ll say, Galen responded back as he finally was allowed to walk back to his tent, his mind flooded with thoughts of the near future and what he’d learned.

  ***

  Aria had been expecting Zareb or Lusha to visit her soon. To give her a simplified rundown of all the technology Daxton had spoken of with them.

  That talk, for the time she’d been present, had been… baffling.

  Talks of machines that can function much like a lookout, allowing one to see through its eyes to observe an area without even being there. She thinks they’d called it a “camera?” Talks of other such things like screens with moving pictures, and something called a “radio,” a “phone,” and “earpieces” simply confused her. She couldn’t begin to imagine how such things worked. It seemed like witchcraft to her.

  She’d been waiting for either Zareb or his wife to give her a simplified breakdown, and thought it might have been one of them when she saw the flaps of the tent move aside.

  “Ugh, you?” she groaned at seeing Malachi’s visage.

  “See now,” he chuckled, “THAT’S the reaction I expected earlier.”

  “Huh?”

  “Oh, nothing. I just paid a visit to the former Champion before coming here. Friendly lad, that one. You ought to learn a thing or two from him.”

  She gave him a glare. She had yet to fully forgive him for besmirching her mother when they met.

  “What do you want?”

  His smile faded, and a serious expression crossed his features. She felt a bit put off by the sudden change.

  “I came to speak with you regarding your mother,” he answered.

  “Why? It wasn’t enough for you to insult her in my presence earlier?” she accused.

  He winced, “I do apologize for that, child. Not for what I said, but for the way I said it.”

  Her eyes narrowed, “You have five seconds to get out.”

  Malachi chuckled, as though she were a pup that had just let out a cute growl in an attempt to look threatening.

  Void, that made her want to kick him.

  “I’m afraid not,” he sighed as he, instead of leaving, had the gall to grab a nearby chair and sit down, “I really do need to speak with you about your mother. There is something I don’t understand and the thought won’t leave my mind. I wonder if the Maker is impressing upon me to find out the answer.”

  “I’ve nothing to say to you,” she hissed as she made to leave, “if you won’t leave me alone, then I’ll-”

  “Why did your mother destroy Ignis?” he interrupted.

  She paused.

  “I’ve met Anila before, you know?” he revealed, “we’ve interacted a couple of times over the course of my life. I’ve helped her a few times with various matters over the course of her enslavement.”

  Aria snorted, “A likely story. Just how-”

  “The last time we interacted,” he interrupted again, “I helped her track you down in the Second Circle.”

  That made her falter.

  “Did you never question how she knew which human bought you? And where to find you?” he smiled, a forlorn look in his eyes, “I was the one who found out the information and gave it to her.”

  Malachi leaned forward, “I know your mother, child. I won’t claim we were friends or even particularly close. But I KNEW her… And the Anila Tufani I knew would never have done something so brash, so callous, as wiping out a capital city and cause the deaths of hundreds of thousands if not millions of lives. So please… tell me WHY she did.”

  Aria considered leaving anyway, but the man seemed sincere. That, and he’d likely just follow and keep pestering her if she left.

  She sighed, and rubbed her face as she elaborated, “My mother, she… she was pressed. Backed into a corner. Do you know of the capabilities of the Shadows? Particularly their Armor and Weapons?”

  Malachi nodded, “I got the information from Zareb earlier. I’d heard rumors, but had never been able to confirm their abilities no matter how hard I tried. To think the Dominion’s technology had evolved to this point…”

  He trailed off, looking to her to continue.

  She did, “Well, one of the Shadows, one stronger than the others, fought against my mother. His voiding Armor managed to adapt to my mother’s Wind affinity. You can imagine how much more difficult that made the battle.”

  Malachi sighed, “Yes. Maker above, fighting without being able to use your Arts or your sole affinity against a Shadow? Yes, I can see how she was backed into a corner, being stuck with only basic enhancement.”

  Aria shook her head, “My mother had one other affinity.”

  Malachi frowned, “What? But that’s… Ah! No, of course. Five centuries in Axis Mundi, she’d have long since developed the Fire affinity naturally.”

  Aria hesitated, furrowing her brow as she opened her mouth to speak a question that had been bothering her, but no sound came out.

  The bard-like man picked up on her demeanor, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  She gulped, and asked, “Malachi… have you… have you ever seen an elf use the Fire affinity before?”

  He met her eyes, studying her before answering, “I have, actually.”

  She started, “Wait, you have?!”

  He nodded, “Lots of elves here in Axis Mundi, child. Many in the Rebellion too. I know you elves have very strong aversion towards that affinity, but some have swallowed their pride and committed to using whatever tools are at their disposal to fight against the Dominion.”

  She bit her lip. She didn’t like the idea of elves using flames. Void… that just seemed so… WRONG.

  Aria took a deep breath and asked, “What… what color were the flames that those elves used?”

  Malachi raised a brow, “That’s an odd question… their flames are the color of… well FLAMES. Why would it be different-”

  His jaw snapped shut suddenly. Malachi jumped to his feet, his eyes wide with sudden and horrified realization.

  She flinched, “W-what-”

  He stormed up to her, “Child, what color were Anila’s flames?! Were they an abnormal color?!”

  She took a step back, startled by his sudden approach, “Why are you-”

  “Tell me!” he snapped before regaining his cool, “I… I’m sorry. I lost my composure. Please, answer me, child. This is important.”

  Aria took a moment to gather herself before she answered, “My mother’s flames… they were black in color with an orange-yellow outline…”

  The color drained from Malachi’s face. He took a long, deep breath, looking defeated, sudden understanding crossing his features as he backed away and slumped down on the chair.

  “Malachi… what does that mean? Why were my mother’s flames that color? Ara- I mean… the Shadow she fought against… he mentioned my mother had ‘Inverted’ when he saw her use her flames. Does that mean anything?”

  His shoulders somehow slumped further, as he stated, “Maker above… Inversion… it all makes sense now…”

  He rubbed his face, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

  “Well?” she pressed.

  “I will tell you, but only if you promise me to never, EVER seek its power. Swear it to me. On your mother’s honor!”

  She frowned. Despite how unnerving her mother’s black flames had been, they’d been unbelievably powerful. Perhaps even surpassing Anila’s already unrivaled Wind affinity. How could she promise to not seek the same?

  Perhaps Malachi saw her thoughts reflected in her eyes, because he suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders, startling her, and shaking her, saying, “I know what you’re thinking, child! And I plead with you with every fiber of my being! Do not seek out the power of Inversion! It will be nothing but a curse to you! It would spell your end as it did your mother!”

  She tried to shake him off, her elf instincts reacting to his touch, but he was as firm as a statue.

  “What… what are you talking about?!” she hissed, trying in vain to break his hold on her.

  He met her eyes, looking more serious than she’d ever seen him.

  “Child… Inversion is the name of the process that occurs in an Etherean when they BREAK. Mentally. When an Etherean goes through something HORRIBLY traumatic. I speak of something so terrible it breaks the very foundations of who they are. When that happens, the Etherean undergoes Inversion. They forcefully unlock a new affinity. Which one depends on the person and their deeply ingrained beliefs and worldviews. Only the element is… different. You can tell when one is using an Inverted affinity because the color, regardless of the element, is typically black. It’s also powerful, incredibly so. Often even more than their natural affinity even with many years of cultivation behind it.”

  He sighed, letting her go as he continued, “But… it comes at a heavy cost. A burden one could almost call a curse. When using an Inverted affinity, well… the term ‘Inversion’ isn’t in regard to the newly unlocked element, but rather what using it does to a person. Their entire personality, who they are as a person, becomes inverted. Take an Etherean who is normally calm and stoic? They become an emotional, passionate mess using an Inverted affinity. Someone who is deeply empathetic and cares for others with every fiber of their being? Completely apathetic, even to those they love the most. The most terrifying part of Inversion, child, is that the inverted feelings don’t come from nowhere. Often they are the parts that the person buries deep inside. Parts that only rarely come to the surface dominate when using an Inverted affinity. The change it invokes in people… change that is more often than not for the worse… it has led to some calling Inverted affinities Dark Ether. I can’t say it’s entirely inaccurate.”

  Aria thought back to her mother. When she’d used her black flames, her inverted affinity, she’d seemed completely different to how she’d known her. Anila had always been calm. Stoic. Rational. But when using those flames, she’d been wrathful. Violent. Almost primal.

  Now I know why… she thought.

  “It gets worse,” Malachi warned, “when an Etherean undergoes Inversion, an internal war begins. Often, the inverted persona clashes with who they normally are, and if that newly unleashed self wins? The Etherean’s personality remains that way forever. Permanently Inverted.”

  “That’s…” Aria licked her suddenly dry lips, “my mother… in her battle she mentioned she’d Inverted, but that it occurred long ago…”

  Malachi nodded, “If I were to take a guess, I’d imagine it occurred all the way back when the Great Fragmentation happened. When she and her people here in this Realm had been left stranded. Either that or some other tragic event that occurred during her enslavement.”

  The man contemplated it for a bit, then added, “If an Etherean possesses a strong enough will, they can do one of two things when they’ve Inverted. They either manage to suppress the newly unleashed self, or, far more rarely, they find a balance and reconcile the two sides into a greater whole. At the end of the day, both the normal self and the Inverted self are still the same person, just different aspects. And finding that balance leads to permanent and far greater control and mastery over all aspects of yourself.”

  Aria frowned, “But… my mother… if she Inverted when the Great Fragmentation occurred, that means she’s had over five hundred years to try to find that balance. But…”

  “Considering she wiped out Ignis and killed so many people in the process,” Malachi sighed, “I’d wager she failed, and instead suppressed her Inverted self. The fact that she of all people failed to find that balance should tell you, child, of the immense difficulty of bearing the burden of Inversion. Though, to be fair to her, she wasn’t in the most ideal circumstances to achieve that.”

  Aria nodded, understanding why Malachi had reacted as he had now.

  He shook his head, “Now I understand why she destroyed Ignis. It was a foolish act, one that should never have been done. But under the influence of Inversion, over five hundred years of built up resentment and smoldering rage broke through to the surface when she tapped into its power… Yes, now I understand why she did it, especially when pressed as you claim she had been…”

  He looked her in the eyes, and asked, “Child… promise me that you won’t seek the power of Inversion.”

  “I… Malachi is… is it always a curse?” she asked.

  “As much as I want to say yes to dissuade you from seeking it out, I know better than to lie… No, there are rare cases where Inversion actually does a person some good. There are some people that are mentally unwell, you see. They were born lacking the ability to empathize with others. Lacking the ability to care for right and wrong. For people like that, or people who are rather twisted, when they Invert they’ll sometimes find that they now possess the capacity to empathize with and care for others. For people like that… Inversion can be a gift.”

  Malachi was quick to add, “But for you, child? You strike me as being very much like your mother. For you, it would be no blessing. It would be a curse. One that would corrupt you and bring you to ruin. So for the last time, promise me that you won’t seek out the power of Inversion.”

  She shuddered, “Considering the requirement to unlock it, I highly doubt any sane person would seek it out willingly.”

  “You’d be surprised what depths a hunger for power can cause a person to sink to.”

  “…fine… I promise, on my mother’s honor that I won’t seek out Inversion. Not of my own will,” she vowed.

  Malachi nodded, satisfied as he stood, “Well, I’ve gotten the answers I sought. Thank you, young Tufani. I bid you farewell for now. Rest easy. For your journey will not be an easy one.”

  With that, he left, leaving Aria’s mind swimming with the things she’d learned.

  Mom… I never knew you carried such a burden… why didn’t you tell me?

  She chided herself for the question.

  The answer was obvious.

  Because her mother had feared she might be enticed by the potential power to be had. Power that could be used against the humes.

  And Anila had been right to fear, for without her vow, she likely would have sought Inversion’s dark powers.

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