Things fall apart.

  Sometimes, they fall apart suddenly.

  A young girl sat in her father’s lap, hearing stories of what was promised to her. It was beautiful and unbelievable.

  The next moment, he had her in his arms atop a mountain.

  He told her that everything her eyes could take in was hers.

  Everything.

  Yachit woke up in her bed.

  She didn’t recall getting there.

  Julnan must have brought her.

  She was parched.

  As though summoned by the thought, a glass appeared at her lips.

  She swallowed instinctively, finishing it in a moment and reaching out for more.

  Three glasses in, she finally took a break and lay back on her bed.

  “You pushed yourself too far.”

  The familiar voice shocked her out of her stupor, and she sat back up like a bolt.

  Busa shook his head and pushed her back down.

  She found herself unable to resist and leaned back, closing her eyes.

  “Julnan told me about what happened,” he said after a while, “there was no need to go that far over a sparring match.”

  She hesitated for a while.

  “I wanted to show you…”

  “Show me what?”

  “That I’m not useless.”

  “By injuring yourself?” he asked with some amusement.

  She sat back up at this, irate.

  “By getting stronger!”

  He looked at her evenly, not saying anything.

  “I was this close! I was at the edge of something.”

  “At the edge of what?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer and instead lay back down.

  Tick.

  Tick.

  Tick.

  The ticking of the quartz clock mounted on the wall told her that it was already after midnight.

  “How long have you been here?” she asked, not looking at the object of her question as her lips protruded in a pout.

  “What does it matter?”

  “You’re very busy,” she said simply, “you don’t have time to waste on me.”

  “You’re right,” he replied, making to get up but stopping as he caught her glare. “Kidding… I thought you were sulking.”

  She didn’t dignify his words with a real response and instead snorted her indignation at him, turning away completely.

  “What am I going to do with you?” he asked himself.

  The weight on the bed from his switching seats made her hyper-aware of him, and she didn’t speak for a time.

  “Don’t… cast me aside.”

  Her voice barely reached his ears, but their effect was still piercing, and his eyes widened at them.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You’re replacing me!”

  She was standing on the bed now, bearing down on her master.

  He didn’t speak, but watched her with interest, his eyes tracing a circuit across her entire figure and then settling on her face once more, still taking in her features deliberately as though she were a stranger.

  Red energy formed in her palm and exploded just as suddenly, shaking the room like thunder.

  “Say something,” she said, tears forming in her eyes.

  “Wasn’t this what you always wanted?” he asked quietly.

  “You’ve always wanted your freedom,” he continued, “even I can see that.”

  Her mouth opened for another one of her quick replies, but the expected words didn’t make an appearance.

  He pulled out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed it on her moist cheek.

  “Get some rest.”

  “Amazing,” a certain giant said again, this time in the presence of a rather tall, grey-haired man. The pair had a calabash of palm wine between them.

  “I can scarcely believe it myself,” he said, the glow of his skin suggesting intoxication although he only drank water from a personal flask, declining his master’s many attempts to share some of the sweet beverage.

  Despite this alcoholic imbalance, the pair found themselves jovial beyond belief, the taller man exclaiming “amazing” every so often before drinking from the bowl once more.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The night grew deep, but their enjoyment wavered not even in the slightest.

  “This… you know it’s only beginning, don’t you?”

  Cardinal nodded his head before walking to the window and staring into the night.

  The streets were alight with Red Crystal gas light, which burned its orange-red and rescued its surroundings from the night.

  In times past, the moon and the small hurricane lanterns each household kept close would be the sole illumination and the oldest woman in the village would sit under the shade of a palm tree and tell the children wild and engaging tales by the moonlight.

  From the convoluted escapades of the clever Mr. Tortoise to some old tale of why the Owl stayed up all night, these tales would excite every child and many a grownup, as well as inspire the next generation of storytellers.

  Due to his special upbringing, he had never experienced these things himself, but he had heard of them, and now, staring into the night, he yearned for so simple a time.

  Sigh. Has there ever been such a thing as a simple time?

  “What do you see with those eyes of yours?” his companion asked.

  He turned back to his master and smiled at him, before putting his hand over his own eyes.

  “There’s nothing overly special about them.”

  The taller man sneered slightly and took a swig of his sweet draught.

  “Those with great gifts take them for granted.”

  He peeked with one eye from behind his fingers.

  “Haha. It’s nothing like that... I just see clearer without God’s Eyes.”

  The giant knew that there would be no agreement on this and was in too good a mood to argue with his former student.

  Power was everything, and all else was platitudes.

  “He’ll need a lot of time to properly incorporate it into his body, if he can.”

  Once more, Cardinal stayed silent, only listening to his master’s words and nodding in agreement.

  “I’d like to take the boy under my wing,” he said, smirking as he saw some reaction from the man, finally, “but only on one condition.”

  “That is?”

  “That he passes a series of tests to my satisfaction.”

  “That’s par for the course.”

  “Yes, but these will be different. He’s the first student I’ve ever taken on with that. I’ll need to test his limits, both for my own curiosity and his growth.”

  “You’re as candid as always.”

  The giant agreed and smiled.

  “To more and more miracles.”

  It had been several years since Elijah had spent the night in a proper bed.

  As expected, nobles are truly great.

  The bed was like a cloud that soothed him down to the soul. The experiences of the last days almost felt like they were worth it now that he was reaping some sort of reward... almost.

  Still, his habit of anticipating the sun’s rising was ironclad, and he stepped out and stretched himself out like some feline.

  He took in his surroundings with a mix of relish and trepidation.

  He had never shared a roof with the freeborn before and feared that Xango would strike him down for his daring.

  The lightning of judgement did not fall, though, and so he needed to get on with his day.

  A knock at his door saw him dash towards it and, on opening, he was met with the sight of his friend, Chaina. She was, contrary to her usual aesthetic, wearing a simple wrapper with an assortment of beads in her hair. More striking than these two rather common attributes was the elaborate makeup that adorned her face. Striking geometric patterns and curving motifs populated the areas of her cheeks and forehead, with simple black on her lips and around her eyes.

  This style of makeup was known as uli, if he recalled correctly. He had once seen it in a discarded fashion magazine during one of his trash runs. The combination of this striking makeup and the beads the models wore had stirred him deeply at the time, and confirmed in his mind that while an osu, he was still a man.

  “Done staring?”

  “Give me a few more seconds, young mistress,” was the reply.

  She struck him lightly with the traditional animal hide fan in her hand.

  “Are you usually up this early?” he asked, not sure what else to say.

  “Yes,” she said with a pout, “it’s best to offer worship as the sun rises in order to summon the ‘spirit of the sun’.”

  “Ah.”

  “Anyway, I’ll check on you after we’re done,” she said with a smile, turning away from him, “there are also armed bodyguards all over the compound, should you think of running.”

  He was well aware of this and had counted them and their weapons with no small amount of anxiety the previous night.

  He kept himself busy by plotting out his plans for the day. His understanding was that he was basically a free man until his awakening, which could happen at any moment. Unlike when he was younger, he wouldn’t need some complex ritual to stir up his potential and needed merely to go through the motions till he felt the time was near.

  He thought back to the many trials of the previous days (he discovered that he had gone missing for about two days, all told) and almost had an anxiety attack.

  Mysterious metals.

  Deadly deserts.

  Monstrous mutants.

  And that was just the first part.

  He began to doubt whether or not he was truly alive.

  How did one encounter so many things and make it back in one piece?

  Not just in one piece, he thought to himself, flexing his arm, but stronger.

  He also wondered how much he could or should tell his friend. Parts of this were a little too insane to relate, and he wasn’t looking to scare off the one person who seemed eager for his company.

  Even he, the one who had gone through and survived these things, felt a chill run through him at the mere recollection of them. He was filled with the heavy knowledge that this was far from over.

  That crazy man said we’d meet again, didn’t he?

  He struck the air with his fist, producing a loud crack like an explosion.

  “The day’s evils are sufficient thereof,” he said simply, smiling. “For now, I have to get around to making myself a weapon.”

  He was nothing if not practical, and acknowledging his most pressing and attainable need, he knew what to do.

  Damn that wildebeest, he said regretfully.

  “You seem well.”

  A voice crashed in on his thoughts, and he turned rapidly, surprised to see the figure of his grey-haired father.

  “Sir!” he couldn’t help but shout.

  “At ease, boy,” the man said with a jovial smile, placing his hand on his shoulder to assure him that he was really there.

  The pair did not speak for a long while.

  Where could they even begin?

  “We can’t talk for long,” he said suddenly, “I know you have a lot of questions, but they’ll have to wait for when your mother returns.”

  His expression sank at this, but he still nodded in understanding.

  “I’m glad you’re safe,” the man said, smiling proudly as he looked at his son, “I can’t say everything yet, but… You did me proud.”

  “It seems luck was on my side, sir,” he said simply, “luck and that.”

  “That’s nothing special,” he said, shaking his head, “very few could have used it like that in their time of need. You’ve made me very proud.”

  A quick swipe of the young Lycan’s sleeve saw that the moisture gathering at his eyes was banished.

  “Haha. Remember, living is what’s important… all this...” his pause accompanied by a wave at the ostentation around him. “All this isn’t life.”

  The young boy nodded, barely being able to articulate himself for fear of breaking down.

  He felt himself drawn into the warmth of his father’s arms.

  “Live well, my son.”

  He was alone the next moment.

  Time passed in a daze, and all his plans for the day seemed to dissolve in a peculiar feeling of yearning and satisfaction. It was akin to the catharsis of reading a good yet tragic book. On this soft carpet, he wished every day would be like this.

  Sigh.

  Knocking once more stirred him, and he walked to the door to meet the smiling face of his friend, now sporting her usual dollish clothing and a bright smile.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, “let’s go eat.”