Jarulam is the new name given to the Matriar’s territory after the war. It englobes all the land east of Leïn. The people were named Jarulaviens, even when the country was called Matriar, and the new name comes from them. Jarulam cities are renowned to be highly difficult of access. There are only two roads (sometimes one depending on the weather) crossing the thick jungle forest that separates the capital of the Empire, Leïn, and the Jarulam cities. In the south-east is the Jarulam desert, and the Unbroken Ones continue all the way to the north-east. Jarulam is known for two main things: their matriarchal traditions is one, their assassins is the second. It is a secret to no-one that the Imperatrix’s jewels mostly come from Jarulam. It has been said that the Imperatrix’s information network thwarted Carradinoris invasions on its own in the past.

Extract from the frontiers of the Imperatrix’s kingdom, seventh edition.

Nay was not indifferent to life anymore, but she was bored. Days at the Legio’s school were long and, in her opinion, the only thing she was doing there was to look at the green of the trees take different hues of red, yellow, and brown. The rainy, windy summer was slowly but surely leaving, letting autumn reign with its thousand colours.

Her mother’s belly was getting bigger and rounder, and Nay was now replacing her more and more in the school’s kitchen. She did not have much free time anymore, except at the Jasminn when she talked with Feryn. The bath’s owner’s daughter was always telling her about all the latest gossip in town.

Like the harbour’s cobbler’s daughter who was pregnant but with no idea who the father was.

Or the nice-looking boy who always took his baths in private rooms, that had been spotted crossdressing.

Feryn sometimes even let Nay sit in her weird, elevated chair, to talk and take care of the clients. The forest-eyed teenager always got scolded by her mother Manna afterwards, but it did not seem to deter her.

The clients were quite used to the mother-daugther’s verbal violence, and that day, as usual, they just looked at them happily shredding each other with words.

“By the poison of Naïa! To let a girl half your age work in your stead! And don’t think for a second I don’t know where you go when you leave her alone. Have you even seen your hair?” Shouted the Jarulavien mother.

“She likes to sit there! I’m being nice! You heartless harpy!” Shouted the daughter back, as she was trying quite ineffectively to comb her hair in a less bird-nest kind of look. Her black hair was not long, but as rebel as their owner.

“Yeah, let’s talk about that. The clients are twice more satisfied when she does the reception work than when you do! Should I just give her your place permanently?” There seemed to be an untold war between the two, which would only be won by the one shouting the loudest.

“Ha! You lie! No one can get enough of my charms, my divine voice! If I left, you’d lose half of our clientele!”

Nay was thinking that at this precise moment, divine was not the attribute she would have given to Feryn’s voice.

“Get your feet back on Ja’s earth girl! If you could be even more vulgar, our clientele would vomit at the mere sight of you.”

The teenager put her hand on her heart, opened her mouth wide, in an overly dramatic gesture and expression.

“Betrayal! A mother, to treat her own child like this…” She looked at Nay, fake tears in her eyes. “Sorry, oh magnificent creature, but I am to flee! The diabolical one, fuelled by hatred and evil, struck me dead! Goodbye my Prince!”

And as strange as it could seem, this was a rather normal goodbye coming from Feryn.

Nay waved her hand as the teenager left the bath before Manna could intervene.

“What an idea, falling in love with an actor. All heartbreakers those ones.” Grumbled the mother. She turned to face Nay, an enormous smile on her lips, her previous shouting and anger vanished. “You won’t do the same mistakes, will you Nay? You’re a smart girl. I kept some apple pie I made yesterday for you, want some?”

Nay, who was not hungry in the least, still nodded vehemently.

Nay knew the truth about her friend though. Contrary to what she said, Feryn did not give her place to Nay only from the kindness of her heart. She was using that time to go see “her man”, who changed quite regularly. Nay did not feel bothered by that in the least. She loved to sit on this chair, giving her a rare moment where everyone had to look up at her, and not the opposite. She did not care that she was alone with the clients either, like this, she could enjoy the stories of the city directly. No one cared she was there, and they only registered her presence when they payed entry, or when they noticed her cloud-like eyes.

They often spoke without restraint just under her nose, and she had easy access to all the gossips. Most of the stories did not interest her that much or were hard to understand because of Gite’s unintelligible dialect, but some tales were terrifying, tragic, exciting or all of the above.

Nay’s favourite were the stories about the Commandare.

“I saw him at the Northern gate yesterday. He smiled at me! I felt faint, oooh.”

“That Virnyl guard…if I wasn’t married.”

“So dreamy…”

Men also talked about him.

“How does he manage such a body? I’m working hard every day and even then, time is taking its toll!”

As Nay had guessed before, Redrick was Gite’s women’s idol figure. It had to be, considering his killer smile, but she was a bit surprised that even the men respected him so much, even if they were slightly jealous.

She did not understand. Each time she overheard those talks, she felt a painful tingle on her neck’s scar.

She had been slightly surprised Ra’fa let her do the job, but her mother was even encouraging it. Ra’fa had taught her much about the art of being unnoticed, and she considered this a practical lesson. Maids, servers, cooks, the important people did not care about those. As such, those professions were the perfect way to gather intel. They only needed to listen.

As it would seem, receptionist was such a job.

Still, Ra’fa and Nay did not come to the Jasminn to train the girl’s listening skills, they were there to enjoy warm water. Nay never stayed on the chair for more than an hour before having to join Ra’fa in the baths. Usually they went to the public one, the bathtubs there were as big as their house, which was impressive to say the least, but Nay did not like being surrounded by naked strangers. Fortunately, it was not rare for Manna and Ra’fa to reserve a private bath to talk, and Nay was always welcome to join. She did not understand the language the two women were often conversing with, but she did not care.

She only bathed with Feryn once.

It happened after Ra’fa had paid the teenager for two places in the private bath. They were interrupted by a moody Manna. Even moodier than usual.

“Feryn, you can go.” Said the Jarulavien.

“You won’t join us? Do I need to change for a public bath?” Asked Ra’fa, not bothered by the angry look on her old friend’s face.

“Nah, we’ll talk here, this Makamone of a merchant forced me to take a bath with him, it took hours, I don’t want to see water anymore for the day.”

Ra’fa laughed. “Someone disgusted you away from your own work? I want to hear it! Nay, go to number four without me, I’ll come later.”

“If she goes there alone…can I go with? I’m drenched.” Asked Feryn, opportunistic.

“Naïa’s poison girl! Are you not ashamed to ask that to a client!?” Yelled her mother immediately.

Ra’fa, used to it, just nodded at Feryn with a smile.

“Thanks Ra’fa!” Exclaimed Feryn. “Come Nay, bath time without the old goats!”

“By Lebe I swear I’ll give away your inheritance one day.” Manna shouted.

Feryn only smiled, took Nay by the hand, and fled. The little girl was impressed with Feryn’s bravery. If she had done the same with Ra’fa, she would have eaten mushrooms for two weeks straight.

Once in private bath number 4, they undressed. It made Nay uneasy, having a hard time looking away from Feryn’s exotic body. Ra’fa had more curves, even more now with her pregnancy, but Feryn had that athletic and chocolate skin. It made her beautiful, and it explained her popularity with the boys.

The teenager noticed Nay’s look.

Caught red-handed.

“Ahah!? Admiring the sight? Jealous? Wait for a few years, I’ll get more cleavage and all the men will be at my knees.” Taunted the young woman without an ounce of modesty.

Nay was more than shameful and looked away.

“Yes…you are very good-looking.” She said with a little voice.

Nay could not help but sound like her golden-haired friend Veridienne. She had never been so ashamed before.

The teenager laughed.

“Wanna touch?” She asked teasingly.

Nay did not know what to do or say, and stayed frozen, her mouth wide open.

That was when Ra’fa entered the room.

“Still some warm water for me?” She asked.

“Our water is always at the perfect temperature.” Retorted Feryn with a commercial tone.

Nay’s head was half under water, bubbles of air bubbling in front of her eyes, ears still red in shame.

She was thanking Ra’fa inside and promised herself never to enter a bath with Feryn alone anymore. She loved this place for its peacefulness, she did not come here to be teased like that.

Beyond Feryn, Nay had made friends with Veridienne and Fredere. Their worlds could not be more different though, and she sometimes had a hard time understanding them. Like Fredere boasting because he had won at Comptoy against his father, or Veridienne complaining about her too tight corsage.

She and Massimo were in good terms. The fact that both came from lower-Gite helped, but his attitude changed completely when she was with her bourgeois friend, and Massimo’s intolerance annoyed her.

But even with her newfound friendships, she was still bored. Worse than that, she felt different. She felt so much older than the other kids, but she was so frail and little in comparison.

That and her friends never woke up terrorized in their bed, with a cold sweat and the urge to just run away.

Months passed.

Nay’s favourite activity was to look and touch what Ra’fa called “Her Living Fat”.

“I worked so hard to lose weight for him and look how he thanks me!” She exclaimed at dinner one night.

The pregnant woman was complaining more and more about her current fate, even though never seriously. She was more nervous than before, and it did not help that she could not cook anymore because she could not stand up that long. Her daughter had to be the one to take care of everything, and Ra’fa hated it.

The three of them were sitting around their dinner table, enjoying their evening meal.

The room was the largest in the house, but was not that big, just enough to handle a kitchen and a dinner table. The ground was stone, which was luxurious considering the other houses of the district. The large table had four wonky stools as chairs around it.

The kitchen area was simple. An oven, very much like the one that had been in the kitchen-carriage in the Canyon of Sables convoy, was the main cooking apparatus. Tools and knives were hanging above it.

“Oh Hani, I’m happy you tried so hard for my sake, but you’re even prettier now.” Marke said to her.

“I wasn’t talking to you! It is Lebe who seduced me during the night and gave me a child!” Ra’fa retorted.

“Isn’t Lebe a goddess?” Nay asked.

“Oh, you don’t know? Lebe looks like a woman but is also a man. She’s the goddess of sex for a reason!” Ra’fa explained.

How could you look like a woman but be a man? Maybe like the man who dressed like a girl at the Jasminn? Nay had no time to ask more questions as her father spoke.

“During the night eh? I remember now.” The Legio grinned. “She came in our bed a few weeks ago, didn’t she?” He gave his daughter a knowing look.

“I had a nightmare!” She tried to defend herself.

“Getting a bit old to hide in our room, don’t you think?”

“But…but…” She stuttered.

“Oh, leave the child be, she’s doing it less and less. Go and get us some water from the well instead.” The tall woman said protectively.

“A good idea, our daughter will…” Marke began.

“Don’t even think about asking Nay if you want to sleep in bed tonight! She’s doing enough as it is!” Ra’fa interrupted him.

“But…it’s my house?” Said the soldier timidly.

Then he saw the look in his wife’s eyes, sighed, took the wooden bucket hanging next to the door, and opened the entrance door. He stopped there, before turning around.

His face was serious now.

“Nay…tonight…”

“Yes?” She answered.

“Come to the cloister. We need to talk about…” He was silent for a few seconds. “…something we should have talked about ages ago.”

“Erm…okay?” Said Nay, suddenly worried.

“Wait for me there.” He left.

The crackling of embers in the oven echoed in the room.

“Well, young girl, what are you waiting for? Go put on your garbs, you’ve got training.” Said her mother.

“But…I don’t train alone with dad since the school’s opening. He said we were going to talk, not train!”

“Nay, you should know that about your father by now. Have you ever seen him “talk” without a sword in his hand? Go dress.”

Nay thought about it very briefly and arrived at the exact same conclusion. She left for her room, with heavy feet and a sigh.

A few minutes later, she faced the school’s large oak door. It was closed, her father was not inside yet.

Nay vs door: round 43.

“HNGGGGGGGGGGNnnnnnnnnffffffffff.” Echoed in the night.

Marke found the door opened ajar. Nay was not there, having obviously managed to squirm inside. For a moment, he smiled.

She sat down on the rock under the cliff inside the cloister. All the other rocks had been removed when the school was constructed, but this one was too large to be moved. She watched her father walk out of the night, barely visible under the gleam of flittering flames.

“Good, you thought about the torches.” He said approvingly.

Then he stayed silent for a long time.

“What are we doing?” Nay finally lost patience.

“I…I’d like to talk about what happened three months ago.” It was more than unusual for her father to look so unsure of himself.

“Three months ago?”

“Yes, on the Ducal plateau.”

“Ah.” Oh no. She hoped he would have forgotten about it. So, she waited for the fateful question.

“Why did the Commandare know you already?”

There it was. She knew it would not stay secret forever and she had decided she would be honest when the time came. What bothered her most was her father’s behaviour. Why did he seem so…ashamed?

“I…” She began. “I climbed the cliff, here.” She pointed towards the path she had taken. “I couldn’t open the school’s door; the sun was setting, and I was thirsty…so I decided to just climb.”

“YOU DID WHAT?” His scream cut through the night and ringed inside Nay’s ears.

She scratched the scar on her neck before continuing.

“Well, yes. I managed to reach the Meridional road, so I just walked down towards the gate. I was unlucky, I guess, because he was there. I had to explain what I did, so he’d let me pass…I didn’t know better. There you have it.” She had spoken fast. As she finished her explanation, she gave him a hesitant smile.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. She could picture red and blue fire coming out of his nose.

He searched for his words before talking. “You…climbed… the Shadowrock side of the Ducal plateau because you were thirsty?” He was on the verge of exploding.

“Well…yes?”

He stared at the sky.

“Breathe Marke, breathe.” He said to himself.

‘Yes dad, breathe!’ She encouraged him internally.

Nay awaited her sentence for three long minutes.

“Okay. I got it. Let us skip that.” The Legio announced, to Nay’s stupor.

Skip it? No marathon in the city? No mushrooms till the end of her life? She could not believe it.

“I won’t ask how you succeeded that feat, or where you learned to climb. I bet you can’t remember yourself.”

It made her think. He was right, where had she learned to climb?

Her stupor was replaced with anguish. She had never asked herself that question.

How?

It was not hard to see how shocked she was, and Marke tried to explain himself to reassure her.

“It’s not the first time I see such a phenomenon Nay, calm down. After what you lived through in the Canyon…it’s natural you’d rather forget. But your body, it will never forget.”

“What you mean is that, if I know how to climb, or if I know how to do the Imperatrix’s talon…”

“Is because you were taught that, before. Yes.”

She knew her parent’s names. Her old parent’s, those she did not love. Melody and Val. But that was not the name she used to call them. They had another name, a title, she could almost remember it. And her reflections, those shadows of herself that died, that showed what could have, maybe should have happened.

Why could she only remember that? Why not the rest?

She almost never thought about her past, she did not want to. She did not even know why. Never had she talked about it to anyone before.

She hesitated, wasn’t this the perfect occasion? Could she not talk about the monster that…

Her father stopped her line of thought immediately.

“Do you remember what happened up there?”

“Up there?” She asked, pulled away from her ruminations.

“Inside the Capri arena, on the plateau…I never apologized for what happened up there, and…I am truly sorry.” He bowed, a hand on his chest, the other on his neck.

She had been told what that sign meant to a Legio.

“What? But, no! You’re not responsible, if someone was it was definitely…I…why are you doing this!? Dad, you’ve never harmed me. You saved my life even. If you hadn’t told me not to kill him, Redrick would have…” She did not know how to react, she had expected to be punished, not apologized to.

“Nay, call him Commandare.” Marke gaze was firm. The time for apologies was gone.

“Sure but…what does it mean? He’s not just a guard, is he?” She tried to compose herself.

He sighed and sat down on the rock, next to her.

“To simplify, he’s the Virnyl guard’s chief. But it goes way beyond that.”

She pulled her knees against her chest as she turned to face her father. She raised an interrogative eyebrow.

“He’s most likely the greatest swordsman alive. He lives for his blade. It has a name, Murasa, known to be cursed. He won the Five Cities tournament three times, and the Fir tournament five times. Moreover, he’s the master of Gite, this city is his city, under his control.”

“But.” She interrupted him. “That’s not what Sage-Brother Berth said. He told us that the ruler of Gite was the Duke Yurnt, answering only to the Imperatrix.”

“Yarnt not Yurnt.” He corrected her. “And yes, that is the official state of affairs.”

He paused shortly.

“I explained to you before that Virnyl guards only obey the Duke, didn’t I?”

“Erm, yes, I seem to remember that.” She had a vague memory of this conversation.

“Well, it’s more or less true, but as it is common with reality, its more complicated than that. A Virnyl guard’s duty is to protect and follow the Duke’s orders. But they do that because the Commandare asks them to. Ultimately, not one of them would go against their chief’s orders.”

He grimaced, wanting to say something but stopping short. He sighed and composed himself. “You know, he’s nicknamed the Cursed Soul, because of his blade. Such a bad name…”

Nay stared at her father, confused.

He continued his monologue. “They only respect him. The whole army in Gite: guards, soldiers, almost all directly under his orders. His charisma is legendary, but he’s not interested in politics, and happily lets the coward who calls himself Yarnt the brave rule in his stead.”

“Is that why everyone likes him? Seems that way when I am at the Jasminn.” Nay asked.

“No one would say otherwise. Furthermore, I really think the people love him and respect him. He doesn’t play the game of the nobles, even the imperatrix, he doesn’t give a damn.” He breathed. “He’s a fair man. But a man who dreams of blood. He wants battle and chaos. He wants an exciting duel. I know him…I know men like him well. He would sacrifice the whole city with no second thought just to fight against someone strong enough to be his equal. But you can’t help but admire him. Even if he is a murderer, he did and is still doing a lot of good for this city. He’s the main reason why I wanted to build the school here. But now, I think it was a mistake. Nay, I’m scared.”

She did not say anything. Never had she heard her father talk like that. Never had she heard him confide in such deep emotions.

His shoulders were slumped, his head low when he talked anew.

“I wanted to open this school to protect you and Ra’fa’s future. And now also our daughter’s, your sister’s… But I made a mistake. I destroyed your chances to have a normal life.”

“I…I don’t understand.”

“Did you see how he looked at you? He wants you. First you intrigued him. It doesn’t happen often to a man such as him. Then, you beat one of his guards.”

“He wants me?”

“As a pupil. A disciple. He wants to break you, then take the pieces and put them back together how he sees fit. Then, when you’ll be grown, he’ll pluck you, sword in hand. He’d finally meet his match. Over and over he’ll fight you, until his thirst of blood is quenched, or more likely until one of you is dead.” He sat there in silence for a while.

“Did you feel his Rreico?” His question seemed to come from nowhere.

She was still trying to process what he had said before, and it took some time for her to understand what he asked. She remembered her duel against the Commandare.

“No. I did not. He was terrifying.” This monster in human skin.

Marke seemed decided all of a sudden. He dropped from the rock to stand on his feet.

“Get up, bring us the training weapons. I’ll show you.”

The flames were not enough to illuminate the battered ground that had once been covered with grass. After the numerous trainings that had taken place upon its soil, nothing grew there anymore.

She was barely distinguishing her father’s expression through the penumbra.

They had not duelled since the exhibit on the Ducal plateau. The torches reminded her of their first in the Canyon of Sables.

Marke looked serious.

“The technique the Commandare uses is complicated. It shows a chaotic or empty rhythm, doesn’t it?”

She nodded.

“Well, you’re wrong. If we’re talking about the rhythm, the Rreico, every living thing has one, always. Not only during a duel, always. A bird making its nest has a Rreico, a bowman prepping his bow has a Rreico, Ra’fa baking bread has a Rreico. Try to concentrate on it when you have time. What the Commandare does is not removing his Rreico, it is hiding his intent.”

“Intent?” She repeated.

“It means he’s only driven by his instincts. Every move he makes is a reflex he acquired through years of training. He doesn’t want to attack. He attacks. No hesitation, no thought, no emotion. You could probably feel the Rreico of a hunting animal driven by hunger, but he is not hunting because of hunger, he is hunting without a reason. Because his gestures are without intent, you cannot decipher his body language to foresee his next move, you can’t break down his techniques to avoid them beforehand.”

“I don’t get it.”

“That’s the point, you can’t. It is not something a living thing can understand. You would need to be dead.”

“He’s invincible then?” Her voice shook in fear. She remembered his blue eyes.

“That is what some say. In truth, it just means you have to be better than him. Faster, stronger, more experienced. Your techniques just need to be straight out better. You won’t win by luck or by cunning. A feint, using the Rreico, using your instinct, he’ll just get through all that with raw talent.”

“But…if he’s the best….”

“There is always someone stronger than you. If you think otherwise, it is because you haven’t met him yet. That is also true for the Commandare. Moreover, his technique has a fatal flaw.”

“Ah?”

“I’ll show you, it’ll be simpler.”

He took a combat stance.

Training was beginning, time for talks was over.

She waited for him to do the first move, wooden dagger and sword pointed in front of her.

He took a big gulp of air.

Then she could not “sense” him anymore. That was the best way she could describe the feeling. One moment she felt Marke’s rhythm, the next it had disappeared.

He was doing the same thing as the Commandare.

Some kind of monster had taken her father’s place.

“I thought he was the only one able to do such a thing!” She exclaimed, terrified.

“Ha! He’s not the only one who battled thousands of times! I may be less talented, but I can at least reproduce the effect.” He smiled, and as he talked, she had felt his Rreico reappear. Immediately after it disappeared again.

He lunged forward, his whole body stretching out. Seven feet away from her, out of range, became just two in an instant, ready to skewer her. The wooden sword would not have let him do that, but it still would have really hurt.

She did not see it coming, but as she stood ready, she could react in time. She pirouetted away, taking a step back. Marke’s sword brushed her ribs but did not hit.

His assault was not over yet. His first strike immediately brought out another. Dagger followed sword, sword followed dagger. Nay had to perpetually adapt and spin and dodge at the last second, getting close to being hit multiple times. But after lengthy minutes of improvised dodges, she realized something. Her father was attacking her seriously.

So she should have lost ages ago. If he used his Rreico as usual, like he had done on the plateau, she would never have held on so long.

Something was amiss.

In an impressive acrobatic movement, her father did a spinning attack, it was a sequence she knew well, sword then dagger then an unexpected kick.

She knew how to counter it too.

Rather than to dodge like she had done before, she parried. She dropped her dagger to hold on her sword with both hands and faced the first blow directly. The strike of wood on wood hurt her arms, but once the sword was parried, she could easily deviate the dagger, and then use her weapon to pluck off the leg coming to kick her.

She felt the strong and balanced energy appear out of her father again.

His extended leg was stuck to Nay’s blade. If it had been a real one, he would have dismembered himself on it. Undoubtfully, it would have been impossible for him to continue the fight.

That was the first time Nay ever won a duel against her father.

“Good.” He said. “Did you get it?”

She nodded.

“You stopped thinking. To make your rhythm vanish, you must vanish yourself. You make more mistakes.” She answered. Normally, her father would never have used a sequence so obviously. There would have been a feint somewhere, something to prevent Nay to use the knowledge he had taught her against him. To let her prepare a counter? It was unthinkable.

She did not consider this a win at all.

He put his weapons against the rock and gave her a warm smile. He then scuffed her hair.

She blushed, embarrassed but happy.

“That’s exactly it, I couldn’t have explained it better myself. You have to understand that, beyond the Commandare, no one can use this technique effectively. The cost of hiding your intentions is vastly superior to the potential gains.”

“But he can because he duels all the time, is that it?” She felt more serene. Maybe it was not a monster under human skin after all.

“Yes. According to rumours, ten duels per day.” Answered Marke. “And now that you understand it, we need to tackle a second point.”

“Ah?” She did not think there would be more, it was getting late.

“Do you realize that sometimes, when you fight, your Rreico disappears? It happened with me but also against the Virnyl guard you beat before.”

“Eeh?” She exclaimed in shock.

“That’s what I thought.” He sighed. “You know, most children have a hard time concentrating on a task for very long, which means they make a lot of mistakes, and they need to be constantly supervised to correct those mistakes. With you, it’s the opposite. You’re too focused. You forget everything, even yourself. When this happens as you’re fighting someone who is really dangerous, like me when I’m serious, your Rreico vanished completely.”

“I…” She was thinking about it. Was that why some of her encounters were hazy? Like the one in the alleyways against the bandits? Did she hide her Rreico then?

“What I find particularly impressive, is that unlike me, unlike the Commandare, unlike anyone really, the act of hiding your intent doesn’t cost you a thing. You’re inexperienced, so your techniques should suffer tremendously, but they don’t. Rather, you’re improving.”

“But…” She was confused.

“I believe it’s an unconscious usage of Jormun magic.”

“Erm?”

She looked at him like a madman recently escaped from his cell.

“Magic?” She finally said. “That doesn’t exist.”

It was his turn to be surprised.

“What? Of course it does. I met two mages before you know? My master is one, even if not very powerful, and the advisor of the Imperatrix, Jarl the Bohemian, is also one. There is an academy dedicated to mages in the western continent.”

“But…but…” Mages were part of those mythical creatures. The Firantes, the Bonas, the Jivynn, she learned all about them in class. The Sage-Brother had told her the stories and they had all died out, and some probably never existed in the first place. They were the monsters that ate the children going out during the night, or razed villages if not fed with the blood of virgins.

Looking at his daughters puzzled face, Marke scratched his head.

“Ah!” His face brightened. “Berth told you about the God-Touched, right?”

“The ones who receive power from the Gods?”

“Yes, that’s it. I didn’t think. In the south, where I’m from, we call those mages, and they do magic. Here, they’re called God-Touched and they use miracles.”

“Oh, all right… So I’m a God-Touched?” The God-Touched were rare. She imagined being one of those heroes in Fredere’s favourite bedtime stories and smiled, then she remembered that most of them were sacrificed on bonfires by an angry mob or ended completely crazy after killing all their loved ones by mistake.

“It would explain a lot. Like why you’re growing so slowly for example.” He took the flask hanging from his belt and took a sip of water.

His sentence had the effect of an anvil falling on Nay’s head.

“I…I thought I grew slowly because of what happened in the canyon. Ali…deficiency something. That I didn’t eat enough.”

He smiled, his eyes did not.

“I don’t remember you being told that. Listening behind closed doors?”

Caught red-handed, she contorted herself while fiddling with her fingers. “Erm…”

He did not scold her and answered earnestly.

“What that medical apprentice said is as true as a Kafka noble’s speech. I don’t believe it for a second. You are growing up, albeit slowly, but surely. You won’t stay a child your whole life, that’s ridiculous.” He dismissed the young doctors’ diagnostic with a simple hand gesture.

His words struck her in a weird spot.

Did she not spot those changes in the morning? When she tried her best not to look in her mirror? It was minimal, and she thought it was wishful thinking, but maybe it was not. Wasn’t her father right?

So, it was because of a God, because of his gift? She was not sure she wanted that deal, but at least she’d be an adult in the end.

That young bud of hope lifted an enormous weight upon her shoulders.

“Anyway, we’ll have to train that ability of yours, and we’ll resume training in the early night. We’ll have to experiment, I’m no expert on the subject.”

He stopped talking for a second.

“Are you listening?”

She stared at nothing, lost in thoughts.

She would not be wearing the same blue dress her whole life.

Heavy tears emerged from her eyes; she didn’t really know why.

“Nay, are you alright?” Her father asked worriedly.

“Y-Y-Yeee-hic-es” She said while crying.

Training resumed. To her routine she now added meditation and breathing techniques, to take hold of this ability they had decided to call ‘Doubling’, where one part of her was hiding her intent and the other was still thinking clearly. Marke gave more leeway to Nay during this training, letting her follow her instincts. He let her try everything except one thing.

“You will not climb the cliff.” His voice was resounding.

“But…but I’m certain it’ll work.” She tried.

“Nay.” Her father’s gaze ended that conversation and she stopped asking about it.