Kain opened his eyes. Before his vision could clear, he was struck by sharp pain. It was a migraine, a particularly painful one at that. Snapping his eyes closed, he rubbed his temples furiously. It never really did anything, but he had no alternate ways of alleviating headaches.

After a few minutes of mental screaming and temple rubbing, he was starting to conquer the pain. Aware that the bed he was sleeping on was not his own, with the pain subsiding, his concern grew. He needed information, but forewent making any noise or sneaking any peaks until he had wrestled control over his brain. Trying to make decisions while your mind was working against you was a terrible plan. He was safe and apparently in good hands considering the coziness of the bed, so he didn’t need to be impatient.

Since when were you such a wuss?

I’d ask since when did you become so useless, but you’ve never actually been useful.

I'd call saving your life pretty useful.

First of all, if I die, you die. That’s called self-preservation. Second, what?

Your powers, who do you think activated those? It sure as hell wasn’t you.

Oh and I’m supposed to believe it was you? Sir Almighty God who has come down to grace my mind with his presence?

Ignoring you weak attempt at sarcasm-

Shoot yourself.

-and the fact its ‘God Almighty’-

Twice.

-Yes, it was indeed me.

R I G H T. When I start believing that the voice in my head is magical, I’ll have truly gone insane.

Well. I mean. You still talk to the voice in your head. How sane can yo—

Cutting off the riveting discussion going on in Kain’s mind, someone was opening what sounded like a door. Kain immediately stopping rubbing the sides of his head and moved into a natural sleeping position. He made sure to make as little noticeable noise or movement as possible. It seemed to have worked, the person who walked in made no indication of knowing Kain was awake. They silently walked to a spot to the right of him and picked something up.

From the footsteps that sounds like a woman. What did she just pick up though?

The woman gave him no more information. Having accomplished her reason for being in the room, she quietly left. From the slight gap between the moment she left the room and the moment she closed the door, Kain could at least gather that whatever she was holding required both her hands.

She must have picked up a tray. Was it food? Wait, was she a maid?

The woman’s sudden appearance had done nothing but intensify his concern. He had no clue where he could possible be. Worse yet, the woman reminded him that he had no clue where his mother could possibly be.

She’s fine. She sprained her ankle, but Mark and Sandra are taking care of her. And yes, that woman was a maid. She just picked up your dinner.

Kain furrowed his brow.

Dinner?

----------

The head of the garrison, Emont Timo, put down the reports he was reading, “Why hasn’t he been on our watchlist before this?”

His assistant, Carter, provided the answer, “From the information we have, even outside of school and his apprenticeship he largely stays to himself. I would assume his strange appearance has something to do with that.”

Maleek cut in, “Even so, no one knew has a malsir. We should be discussing how to recruit him.”

“We are not employing a child." Emont was growing tired of Maleek's attempts to recruit the child, "I will not repeat myself again.”

Maleek still wasn't willing to back down however, “With all due respect sir, even if we were to ignore the fact that every report we have says his maturity level far exceeds his age, he can manifest sahirlah. You were not there to witness his power, but trust me when I say we can not afford to not employ him.”

The various leaders of the garrison were discussing what to do with Kain. It had been a couple of days since the bandit attack and they were looking for ways to increase the security of the town. A blueprint for walls had already been approved by the Baron’s younger brother. Now, with an expanded budget, the garrison was tasked with recruiting more soldiers and improving their training. In their search for eligible youths, the second-in-command brought up a white haired malsir that could seemingly do the impossible. He had actually brought the boy up the very night the bandits attacked, but no one believed him at the time. They had all lived through the ‘sahirlah craze’ and knew better than to believe in malsirs that could use red sahir. It wasn’t until the head of the Goldenheart scouting party came in requesting to see the boy, that they started to take his words a bit more seriously. Not seriously enough to believe them, but enough to look into it. Funny enough, as the garrison started looking for witnesses to corroborate Maleek’s story, a rumor about a young Imurian malsir saving the women and children that were kidnapped by the bandits was spreading like wildfire. No less than half the town was talking about it. The interesting point of the rumor wasn’t even that he was a hero, it was that he was God’s disciple. He was a malsir that could use sahirlah.

Unlike the townsfolk, the garrison knew exactly who that young malsir was. He was resting in Maleeks guest room. His name was Kain Basileus.

Doing a bit of digging, they discovered he was seen as a genius. The higher ups at the local school watched his development closely. Having promoted him to the apprentice level at an incredibly young age, they marvelled at how quickly he adjusted to its difficulty. In the five years since he had done nothing but perform excellently. Even the professionals and experts he worked under in that time gave stellar reviews. From the blacksmith to the herbalist, they all spoke highly of him. The only negative remarks any of them gave was his inclination towards isolation. He was eager to learn, but he stayed clear of group work and never stayed under one mentor for too long. The only exception being his most recent job at the tax office. Outside of school and work, he only frequented the library. It appeared he didn’t have any hobbies outside of reading. In summary, he was a prodigy.

Emont rubbed his forehead, “Maleek. I appreciate your efforts, but this conversation ends here. In light of your Imurian origins and the oddity of the situation in question, I’ll let this event slide.”

“But sir—”

Emont had, had enough, “Stand down! That is an order! This is a matter of tradition.” Maleek finally ceded and Emont continued. “Now, his identity as a malsir does allow for a bit of leeway. Carter. Does the school run any combat courses for malsirs?"

Carter rubbed his trimmed beard, “I don’t believe so. There are only two malsirs left in town not linked to any house. Of the two, one is the herbalist and the other is asking you to recruit the boy.”

“The school has no malsirs?”

Carter got up and walked to the large wooden file cabinet against the wall. Looking through, he picked out a folder and passed it to the head, “The baron hired the four they used to have last month.”

Reading through the document in front of him, he was shocked. “Why am I just hearing about this?”

“It happened during your trip to Gelis. When you returned you said to focus on getting more information on the ban—”

“Yes, yes. I remember now.” The head sighed. As much as he wasn’t willing to enlist a 16 year old, from everything he’d heard he couldn’t afford to ignore him either.

Maleek coughed. “Well. If we can’t recruit him. I’ll just train him myself.”