Brand's mouth burned and his right arm shot pain into him every time he used it, but he couldn’t stop eating. Growing up in Saint Hilda’s, he’d never experience the kind of hunger most orphans suffered but he imagined what he felt now was far worse. The possibility that anyone could live feeling the clenching pain radiating from his stomach was unthinkable. Thankfully, the old woman’s strange cooking was replenishing his famished body.

The food was of a strange sort. Most of the meat came from shelled sea life and the spices used brought heat to his mouth. Brand decided to tolerate Aleen even if she deserved a good cursing thanks to the meal he woke to. Even now the old woman still brought him more food, never letting him slow down.

“You need to eat, or your body will devour itself,” she explained.

Apparently, there was a feast after someone opened the first of the eight gates, but Rohaan showing up put it on hold. But in truth, it was Brand being knocked out that had delayed matters.

The spell Aleen used on him hurt in a similar way to Magna’s focus but was far more intense. Brand would have happily passed out right there if Rohaan had not shown up. Even though he was more tired than he'd ever been, his body felt light.

Clenching his fist in anticipation dug them into the floorboards like they were made of wet clay. Getting to his feet nearly sent him flying into the ceiling. He'd felt weak and still did hours later, but Brand knew he was a far more dangerous animal with magic coursing through his vein, and by the look on Rohaan’s face, he knew it too.

Not wanting to wait to test his new limits, Brand asked Azmina if he could give a little payback to her brother. He ignored the soreness of his body and the hunger in his stomach to engage the Rohaan on an equal footing.

After fighting him for about a minute, Brand knew Rohaan wasn't used to facing anyone close to his strength. Back in the pits, Brand had been terrifying only because of the tremendous difference in strength. Now, even though he was still weaker, he could at least see Rohaan’s attacks coming, making each one seem sloppy and juvenile.

Every punch and kick was so basic and telegraphed it was as if Brand was beating on some poor child back at Saint Hilda’s. Soon, the noble balled up like a babe, helpless and pathetic. It was then Brand started to mock him. The insults got Rohaan back on his feet and brought fire back to his eyes.

Wanting to see just how much stronger Rohaan was, Brand took the next blow on his arm. He knew it would hurt, but he didn't expect to wake up several hours later because the back of his head smashed into a wall after being sent flying. At least Aleen informed him that Rohaan lost consciousness soon after so he could call it a tie.

Around Brand’s fourth serving, Rohaan limped his way out of the room he’d been put to rest in. He looked almost healed from his injuries like it had been three or four days since Brand clobbered him.

“I guess cultivators heal fast,” Brand thought to himself.

Seeing him eating at the table, Rohaan began shouting at Aleen in Ramian. Brand flinched under the verbal assault. It was as if Rohaan screamed an inch from his ear. He’d been told his senses would improve along with his strength.

The governess answered by reaching for her stick and sending a mage bolt at the angry boy's feet. “Speak vellian! You need the practice.”

“Why is he here?” Rohaan said behind gritted teeth.

Aleen let out a disappointed sigh. “Your sister wants him and seeing as he can lay you out mere moments after releasing his first gate, you’d better make peace now. By tomorrow, he will be twice as strong.”

Rohaan started shouting in Ramian again right before Azmina joined them with a head of messy bed hair.

“Mina you let this man come into our home! You let him attack me!” Rohaan complained.

“Mina,” Brand said, testing the name in his mouth. “I like it. I’ll call you that from now on.”

“No, you will not!” Rohaan roared.

Brand stopped eating and stood, his height and foreign features making a threat out of his cocky smile. “Yes, I will. I don't answer to you, I answer to her.” Brand pointed at Azmina. “You're just her dim-witted brother that I should have killed last night for trying to paint the floor with my brains. Hells, I should end you now for the hundreds you did kill within Mur.” Brand could see remembrance appear on Rohaan’s face after a long moment. “You fucking forgot!”

Brand made his way over to the once again frightened Rohaan when Azmina stepped between them. “You're defending him?” he asked. “If I had not been looking for you Hoder would have, well you know!”

“He’s still my brother,” Azmina said. “The last one I have.”

Rohaan steadied himself when it was clear Brand wouldn't try to kill him right that moment. “What did Hoder do?”

Brand laughed without humor. “Of course, you don't know he tried to rape your sister. You were too busy drinking and whoring all night!”

“Where were you?” Azmina asked her brother. “Where were you while I was buried under a mountain?”

“With Godric,” Rohaan answered, his shame apparent.

“You were humping your lover instead of finding me!” Azmina snapped.

“Lover?” Brand asked, not understanding what she meant.

“Rohaan is a lover of men,” she explained. When Brand still looked puzzled, she made a hole with one hand poking a finger through it with the other. "With men," she said to clarify.

“What?” Brand said understanding but still finding it hard to believe. “But how would? What would you even? Really!”

“Fucking Vellians,” Rohaan groaned.

Brand started to chuckle as he thought more about Rohaa’s particular taste. All the anger he’d been holding onto vanished under a sea of laughter. He was forced to take a seat or risk sprawling onto the floor.

“Stop laughing!” Rohaan demanded angrily to no avail.

“Ok, I’m done,” Brand almost cried after gasping for air. “Wow, I needed that. Well, Mina, if we're not killing or turning Rohaan over to the city guards I have some question.”

“Anything,” Azmina offered.

“Who are you running from and what’s your real standing in Akram?”

The room went perfectly silent. All eyes were on Azmina as she weighed her responses to Brand’s question.

“Oh, come on Mina,” Brand said after he grew tired of waiting. “I knew you were lying from the start, but I’m still here. From grannie’s reaction to me, I bet drow are involved, and seeing how you three are without guards or one hell of a mage, you either are not the heir to Akram or have been kicked out by the current one.”

“At least he’s not a stupid dirty peasant,” Aleen snickered.

“At least you’re not an old ugly witch that can't cook,” Brand snapped back the woman.

“It’s the latter,” Azmina admitted. “Our aunt killed my mother, her consorts, and all our siblings. She hunted us down to three by the time we were too far away to strike at.”

“You plan to return to kill her soon enough, right?” Brand asked.

“Yes,” Azmina answered. “There are those that support us but are unable to openly revolt so they provided us with gold. Once we gain strength here in Vellia, we’ll return to reclaim our home.”

“Ok then,” Brand stated nonchalantly. “Just wanted to know who I’d end up fighting.”

Rohaan’s jaw dropped at Brand’s easy acceptance of their situation. “That’s it, you’ll fight? Don't you want to know more, why our mother was kill, who helped us leave Ram, any plans we might have?”

Brand paused from eating to look Rohaan in the eye. “I’d rather fight in your war than live on the streets. And whoever helped you and your future plans are years away. Right now, I just wanted to know for sure if you were in danger. So now, I’m going to eat.” Brand pointed to his food happily. “You want to join?” Before anyone could answer, Brand snapped his finger remembering a serious detail they were overlooking. “By the way, what are we going to do if people find out what Rohaan did last night?”

The Akram siblings suddenly had nothing to say, but Aleen offered her own advice. “If Vellia finds out what happened, we die, or at least Rohaan does.”

“Then we need to leave,” Rohaan urged.

“No point in that,” Aleen laughed. “A-ranked magi or fifth to sixth-ranked cultivators will be sent for us. There will be no outrunning them so we might as well start training as if we’ll be fine.” Aleen chuckled darkly. “Because there’s no point in running now.”

Brand felt oddly uncomfortable that Aleen's reasoning was the same he came up with when he thought Azmina might be coming after him. “I guess there’s always a bigger fish,” he thought to himself.

The next day, Brand and Rohaan found themselves in a room specially made for training purposes. Their previous fight left cracked walls and broken furnishers in its wake. Not wanting to magically clean everything again, Aleen had them empty a large room that was not being utilized. Brand decided to be awake the next time she uncracked walls and repaired the furnisher. A trick like that could come in handy.

With a tap of a stick, a wave of mana spread across the room disappearing soon after. Brand examined the floor but could hardly be expected to understand what was done, but he assumed shattering the tiles would now be far more difficult.

“Why the hells are you here?” he said turning to Rohaan.

“Just shut up and learn,” Rohaan said.

Aleen laughed in a dry grating manner that only the elderly were capable of. “He’s here because he does not want to fall further behind.”

Hearing that brought a shit-eating grin to Brand’s face. “Oh really.”

“Oh yes,” Aleen snickered. “It happens often when cultivators and magi spend their time with those far weaker than themselves. You see, I’ve taught that boy everything I’ll be teaching you before heading off to suckle on Prometheus's teet.” Aleen took the time to spit on the floor at her own mention of the fire god then looked at Rohaan as if he were an insect. “But you got lazy, isn't that right. Bet you don't even know your basic runes.”

“I’ve needed no runes to fight. I killed men and beasts with my hands,” Rohaan insisted defensively.

Aleen frowned at the idiot. “You kill one runt of a bear and you think yourself a warrior. What if you faced a fel wolf, muspel kin, or another great beast.” Aleen motioned to Brand at the last creature's name, the bitch. “All of which can be found off the king's road. All of which would kill you like the pup you are. The little miss was right to bring Brand to our cause even if he is not, pretty.”

Right as Brand was about to respond to Aleen’s verbal daggers, she pointed her baculous at him releasing a large blast of raw mana. The impact sent Brand flying into a wall, that to his surprise, added bruises as it refused to give the slightest bit.

“Tell me, boy,” Aleen continued. “Why did that hurt?”

“Fuck you,” was all Brand managed to wheeze out. He was having a hard time breathing with the air in his body knocked out of him and the throbbing headache that turned his vision red.

“That hurt because you were sent flying by an attack that couldn’t even hurt you resulting in what I assume to be at least a headache,” Aleen explained. “Just like with Rohaan. The strike on your arm would have been painful, but it was your brain bouncing around your empty head that lost you the night. It's the one muscle not strengthened by opening the first few gates.”

“Last night was a tie at best,” Brand wheezed this time in a slightly clearer tone.

Ignoring him, she continued. “The first runes I will teach you will root you to the world itself like a tree is rooted to the ground. You will learn the basics of physical force and how to use it in battle. More advanced uses of these runes can increase your overall defense, offense, and speed. Now get up. We have three days before you enter the hall. There’s no time to waste on the ground.” Aleen then turned her baculous on Rohaan, repeating her attack resulting in him also being thrown into a wall. “That goes for you too.”

****

“The Akram boy,” Makarov said.

“Yes,” Rollo confirmed. “He was the only one within Mur that could have brought it down. Even if someone else had a focus capable of doing so, no one but him would have the necessary mana pool.”

Makarov leaned back in his chair trying to decide if he should have the boy killed. Only himself, Rollo, Magna, Brand and the Akrams themselves knew the truth. “You say they're here to learn at the hall.”

“Yes. Within a few days, they'll be enrolled, including Brand.”

Makarov pulled a piece of paper from his desk handing it to Rollo. “Let the boy live for now. If he does something like this after being taught by the monks, kill him, his sister too if she causes trouble. In the meantime, I'd rather you focus on Brand and this girl.”

Rollo looked at the image that had been captured through light magic on the paper. It showed a young beast kin girl around 12, although many could never tell the age of beast kin with such pronounced animal features. She could easily be anywhere from 10 to 16 for all Rollo knew.

“Who is she?” Rollo asked.

Makarov had a pleased expression on his face. “She's the first nonhuman to attend the Hall. And it's your job to keep her safe.”