It had taken Boren three full days after his incident with the axe. Those three days had been spent in quiet contemplation and planning out how to use this Berserker power to boost his capabilities. Mostly, though, he had been contemplating how this was going to be his ticket out of weakness. He would use this ability he had learned until he was no longer weak, and then he would stop. With the amount of control he had over his emotion at age nine, it would be easy to stop when the time came. Marasa had said that the warriors in the past had lost their ability to function because of excessive emotion. So he would just need to be careful and avoid that.
Getting up from the bed for the first time with care, he had tried this every day since he had been treated by Marasa, and she had said that while the physical exhaustion had been remedied, his muscular pain would take time to heal. And once his muscles recovered, he would be able to move around and perhaps train again. He would be able to do something in any case.
"Sweetheart, you need to take better care of yourself. You understand?" Isabella walked briskly into the room.
"Yes, mother, of course. I understand, but it is hard to stop myself from thinking that I am so weak, I don't know what to do to remedy my situation." Boren flexed his legs as he stood successfully for the first time in three days.
"Son, I know what happened yesterday, and I know that Marasa spoke to you about something that you unlocked." Isabella was looking down on her nine-year-old son with some disapproval. She was always like this whenever he had tried to do something that ended with him in bed for days.
"Yes…well…I shan't be doing that again anytime soon, I won't." he had been about to promise but something his father had said stuck with him. Never make a promise you don't intend to keep. It will make your word worthless. As a prince, as a man, your word is everything.
Boren had never used the word promise lightly again. "You didn't promise…Boren, there are better ways to accomplish what you are attempting to do, you know? I-"
"Yes! Show me! Why haven't you shown me all of this before? You know how I have been struggling, mother!" the young lad was fuming at his mother being less than forthcoming with information until now. He had felt so alone in his struggle with this weakness, caused by his monumental misfortune that had the knock-on effect on his body weakness and everything physical. That was why the massive boost that he had received in strength was even more unexpected.
"Boren, my child, you have only been alive nine years. I want you to have a childhood before you start on this path. Why do you think I have not been worried about your development all these years? Do you honestly think I would not want my youngest son to grow up strong? The first law of this world is that there is always a solution to every single problem that exists." Isabella spoke with a grave tone, belaying the words she spoke.
"Wait, this sounds like good news, but the way you are saying it –" Boren was understandably confused.
"The second law of this world…every solution comes at a price. Sometimes the solution is money. Sometimes it is something else. Sometimes it is something that you might not be willing to give up, but in desperations, people do. Do you understand what I am telling you, Boren?" Isabella looked down at her son with kind eyes, but the intensity of that stare was unmistakable. "There is a very good reason I have not tried to train you until now. The sacrifice that you have to make is large. With your handicap in starting, you will not even have the baseline that others have. But, what I will teach you will mean that you do not need to resort to this Berserker Class. The only reason I am speaking to you now is that I know you well enough to know that once you found this, you would latch onto this as a way to gain power, but the cost is high. Too high, in my opinion. I would rather begin your instruction earlier than planned if the alternative is you taking the path of the Berserker. It is too unpredictable. Do you understand what I am saying?"
"Yes, mother, I understand…."
Isabella sighed, seeing that Boren was still trying to find a way to use this newly discovered power. "Boren, what I am saying is that you have two choices here. If you feel you are ready to start training with me and working to improve yourself safely, you can start today. However, if you feel that you would like to continue to enjoy your childhood as I wish I had for a little longer, then we can begin in a few years or a few months. It does not need to start immediately." Again Boren was faced with those intense eyes.
"Okay, I understand. I would like to start today. I do not want to be weak anymore. Please, I don't have been weak anymore, and I do not want to wait, to just remain weak so that I can be a child? Remain a child so that I can play around in the palace? No. I will not do that. I cannot."
Isabella saw the resolution in Boren's eyes and smiled inwardly. Boren's return smile had a predator's edge. He would not remain weak, whatever it took. And if a little emotion was required to power through, then he would use it.
*********************************************
Heads turned to regard a statuesque woman clad in an elegant dress flowed through Pravwell. She was some type of noble woman and high born. She may have been a faction leader or a relation of one such. After all no one in Pravwell wore clothes of that sort unless they had some significant backing. The residents of Pravwell might have thought her affiliated with the clergy if the churches had not given up on Pravwell many years ago. Now the city was destitute. The diametric opposite of what Brewyn represented. The grimy back alleys and poorly maintained city was no place for such a woman. She would have been better off in Brewyn. At least that's what the lowly members of the Renfay thought as they stalked their unwitting prey.
They had already collected taxes from the shops in this section of the city, their part of the city. A few idiots from the Macha had thought to encroach on their territory but they had quickly sent them packing. After all, the official boundaries between factions meant that each faction received bonuses if they were in their territory. Within theirs they got a boost to attack, defence and speed. It was not a large boost but it was definitely enough to make a difference when you had twenty of your buddies helping you out. And Pravwell was the perfect place. Whatever you wanted you could have, booze, women, weapons and most importantly bloody violence! Not like those sissies in Brewyn. They couldn't handle a day in Pravwell.
The leader of this minor band sneered and crept further forward, eyeing the expensive jewellery the woman wore. A thin smile showed yellowing teeth and nefarious intentions. Today Renfay whose name was the name of the clan would be very happy indeed with the haul they brought home tonight. A woman's fine jewellery, that would make a pretty prize for Renfay, he might reward him with some coins or perhaps something else, something more…interesting…
With a single hand gesture the individual members were sent scattering in three directions, to the left, to the right and another to cut the woman off from the front. This was going to be a good score, he could feel it in his bones and it was going to be taken well within their part of the city no chance of meddling from the other factions.
This is th' one 'at's gonna be me definin' action! The vagabond thought as he continued to creep closer, he and a few others had stayed behind the woman to get her when she inevitably turned to run. I can finally prove meself to old Renfay… the thought came to him reverently as thought of Renfay always should. It had never felt right to Per that Renfay did not get an honorific. All the other high and mighty got one why not him? Renfay didn't want one. Perhaps Renfay itself was a title; it was the only name he had been given for their all powerful leader. Per hoped one day to bask in his excellence once more. Just as I did that day when I brought her to see him, she had screamed an' spouted words like "betrayal" but what was a lad like me to do? Didn't she betray Renfay first by selling gang secrets to Macha? They was gonna give us protection from Renfay but why change? They were all the same an' I grew up 'ere with Renfay. Anyway, Macha was a weakling compared to Renfay. It had been proven by the Renfay getting bigger each year that passed. Macha was shrinking while Gongsou had pretty much stayed the same since Per had know it.
Dear old mam, shouldn't 'a betrayed Renfay should ya? Anyway that situation had already been dealt with and he had traded in his old family of one for a huge family of Renfay. His command had been his reward, leader of this small unit. Next would be moving up in the ranks, there were always vacancies and positions becoming available, people died, or fell out of favour and spaces would become available.
Another hand gesture and the scum of Pravwell burst out into the open; the women shied back knowing this would happen expecting to lose everything. There would not be any way out. Just as a hundred like her had lost more than just their jewellery in the night, it was a death sentence for anyone not of the gangs to be out in the night. Let alone with valuables on them. She closed her eyes and preyed to the Roc, her divine saviour and light at the end of her tunnel. She could see it now, reaching out to embrace her and take away all the fear and anxiety and pain and suffering. Why had she come to this gods forsaken place? Now she would not live to regret it.
"Ello, ello what 'ave we 'ere lads?! Fine nigh' to be out and about? You got some pretty things there, off to a party?" the sneer on his face contrasting sharply with the playful tone of his voice. Fear was like a hot knife sliding through her veins.
"N-no, n-no-ot at all. J-just on m-my w-way home." The woman forced false cheer into her voice, even as that knife dug deeper. "Thank y-you f-for your-r kind words. I'll b-be o-on m-my way."
Per's grin grew more vicious and sadistic. "Oh no, I don't fink so madam. We are just about to 'ave a good 'ol time. Wouldn't you like tha'?" Per's glance to the others showed that the rest were more than ready to make quick work on this idiot who was out in the night, basically begging to be assaulted…and maybe more…Per's mined whirled, thinking of all the wonderful things that he would do with the coins he earned form this, and the status, It was too easy, just landed in his lap like a curious Panther pup. He had had his fun with that one. The grin widened and the woman face went a few shades paler.
"I am a priestess of the Temple of Roc! Please, if it is money you want then you can come to the temple tomorrow, the coffers there are for the needy, you seem in need!" she realised that she had said the wrong thing as soon as the faces of those in front of her.
Per's features contorted into a snarl as he contemplated her words. Liar! "What do you think we are? Idiots? This is Pravwell, no temples here. You tryin' to mug us off!? We won't be lead astray so easily!"
I will not fail in this task; I will rise in the ranks and take my proper place!
****************************************
"No, I meant the one outside the border of the city! I promise, please I am just trying to get back there. I have nothing but what you see now. If you come to the temple tomorrow then I will be able to offer you so much more!" panic was slowly giving way to hysteria as the men continued to slowly close in on her." Please, mighty god of the air, Roc, help me please, save me! Deliver me from this criminal element!
Silence had fallen on the group, the pregnant quiet before the storm. Winds began to blow harder it seemed. Had that roof always had a tile missing from the middle? Winds howled and it seemed like a storm was coming. But this month was for Roc, not any other, no deluge, no heat and no earthquakes. Only howling winds and a little chill, if she was going to receive any help from her god, then this would be the time. In this season in this moment, she might have a chance to be delivered.
"I do not w-want to hurt you…!" she wet her suddenly very dry lips. Could she incapacitate this many thugs with her Air magic? Would she be able to do it without killing any of them? She couldn't stomach any killing. She had seen these people do it to each other but there was no way she could condone such violence. A tremble began in her limbs, arms and hands first, she couldn't stop it. Will I end up failing?
"You goin' ta wet yourself luv? You scared? Hah! You should be! Squirm for me! Didn't you precious priests and priestesses tell you that it wasn't safe to be out at night?" but they had told her and yet if she wanted the next step this had been a necessary move. To prove her devotion, it was to prove her faith in the Almighty, the Roc.
Whimpering and cowering she was not allowed to kill, not only did it go against all of her principles but all her sacrifice and this pilgrimage would have been wasted. No, I will not retaliate.
The sneers and taunts and jibes drew closer still. The men had no compunction to harming a weak and alone young woman. They had learned the hard way what compassion got you on the streets of Pravwell.
Three set of dirty grubby hands touch her skin and she shuddered from the repulsive touch. She cringed but getting away from them was impossible, they were coming from all directions. She felt violated and helpless. Perhaps a simple weak spell, just a wind to warn them off. That would be enough. I can do this.
Wind began blowing inward to her hand, like she held a vacuum. By dropping the air pressure where her hands came together crouched on the ground as she was no others could see what the source of the wind was and none truly considered the woman in front of them the source. It only took a second or two to gather…one of the hands that had grabbed her limb knocked her had almost inadvertently, she lost the spell. I took too long to decide! I have to keep trying! But it was no use, she would not be able to do anything. She could have wept with frustration, as this to be how she went? Would she be left on the street completely stripped bare of everything valuable? Left with nothing. Or something worse? A visceral fear crept through her bones, she had heard stories of course, from the other priests and priestesses, what had happened during their trials was forbidden to speak off but it was a necessary evil to ensure weak members were weeded out before they could advance. And yet, stories made their way to ears, the rumour mill continued to turn, the iterations, each more daring or more horrific than the last.
The three sets of hands became five and then ten, she was drowning in groping, filthy unclean hands, snatching away anything of worth that she still wore and held. The Ambula Sacrificii, the most terrifying walk that an Air clergy had to make, it had lead her to this. Her tomb stone would read, Safira Aeris, died undergoing Ambula Sacrificii. Even the meagre defence she had tried to conjure had failed her in the end. She had been too weak in a world where might made right. She was weak.
It was all too much, overwhelming her just as the hands scratching and pulling her overwhelmed. Her vision was fading; she couldn't hear what was happening. Everyone wanted a piece; they didn't need to grab at her. She collapsed to the mud and cobble stones of the road, hands still grabbing at her finery. She was resigned to her fate. Facing the sky she continued to pray, she would not leave this world without pealing to the Roc until her last breath.
Fading….
Fading….
Wha…? She fell unconscious to the sight of a black creature leaping from the rooftop towards her.
End of Book 1 of
It Started with Slime