Keldon rested his chin on his hands, leaning forward as he kept steady an intense gaze with Salem. The two of them had made their way into the cabin of the prison cart, making sure that no one was around before they spoke.

“Want me to run it by you one more time?” asked Salem.

“Maybe…” said Keldon, shifting in his seat.

Salem sighed. “One more time.”

Salem flicked his hand, opening a brass pocket watch. The outside was unassuming, plain at best. But inside, there were 4 intricately placed clock hands which Salem had explained dictated both the date and time that the final calamity would commence.

“My full name is Salem Faughlt. I was an ex-peacekeeper of the Order of Solanus.”

“That I got.” said Keldon.

“The peacekeepers were one of the four main factions led by Sun-k’aal-sun roughly a century ago. The other three being; the Order of Lunarus, the Order of Magistrate, and the Order of the Divine. However, due to our…” said Salem, catching himself.

“Well…their former head -the Sowἆlun- falling into a coma, the peacekeepers have fallen out of power.”

“Why can’t you elect or promote a new one?” asked Keldon.

“Because of tradition. According to the words of Sun-K’aal-Sun, the Sowἆlun maintains his seat of power until he no longer draws breath.”

“Sounds dumb.” Said Keldon.

Salem slammed his fist, staring daggers into Keldon.

“Sorry. Go on.” said Keldon, making a mental note to keep his opinions to himself for this one.

“Anyways, since only the Sowἆlun can instate peacekeepers, our numbers dwindled, leading to the decline of the Solanus.” said Salem, “In their place, the Order of the Divine had taken over much of the jurisdiction, claiming a majority of the political power.”

“Warangels…” said Keldon.

Salem nodded.

“So, what happened to you?” asked Keldon.

“I was exiled. For treason.”

“Then…what’d you do?” asked Keldon softly.

Salem smiled, twiddling his thumbs as he leaned back “Same thing I’m doing now. Complicit in the act of hiding or aiding any users of Illegal magics.”

“And they didn’t just kill you??”

“They couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Let’s just say my father had his fingers in a few too many bowls of oatmeal.” said Salem.

Keldon wanted to push further, but the look Salem gave him made him think twice.

“Okay, that I can accept. But explain this” said Keldon, pointing at the watch.

Salem stared at the pocket watch with an expression of tenderness that Keldon hadn’t even imagined he could make.

“My wife Emily gave this to me before she left.” Salem said finally.

“Hell of a divorce gift.” Said Keldon instinctually, before mentally palming his forehead. “Oh. Was she an illegal magic user?”

Salem nodded.

“…was she the reason you had been exiled?”

Salem nodded again.

“I’m sorry. That was insensitive.” said Keldon. He hadn’t learned how to deal with death particularly well himself, so he wasn’t sure how to offer Salem his condolences.

“It’s fine.” said Salem, “One can only move forward if one walks away from where they have been.”

“Wise words.” said Keldon, “Your wife teach you that one?”

“Good guess, but no. It was the doormat for a bar I went to often.”

“Danggit, should’ve known.” Said Keldon. “Was your wife-“

“Was Emily.”

“Sorry. Was Emily a Naming Magic user then?” asked Keldon.

Salem shook his head. “There’s more than one kind of forbidden art, only the Gods know how many the empire tried to stomp out.”

He pointed to the intricate designs on the face of the watch, as Keldon leaned in for a closer look. Scrawled over the four hands of the pocket watch were innumerable etchings, carved into every micrometer of surface area possible.

“She was born with a natural aptitude for a forbidden magic called Prognosticatiomancy, the ability to glimpse into fragments of the future.” Said Salem, “But not without cost. Each time she glimpsed into the future, the magic ate away at her memories, leaving her a husk of her former self.”

Salem handed Keldon the pocket watch, as Keldon gently cupped pocket watch, handling it with care.

“The watch reads that the final calamity will occur in 7 years, 8 months, 23 days, 18 hours, and 5 minutes.” Said Salem.

“Only seven years?!!” said Keldon.

Salem nodded. “But here’s the problem pup, three years ago, the watch read 20 years.”

“B-but, that doesn’t add up.” said Keldon.

“Right.” Salem said, nodding his head. “Somethings happening that’s accelerating the final calamity. And that’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“Is there a chance Emily could be wrong?” asked Keldon.

Salem shook his head, pulling out the book he’d been reading during the trip and held it up. “I’ve compared as many of Emily’s predictions to their outcomes as possible. And 99.6 percent of the time, she’s been right.”

“Have you told anyone?” asked Keldon.

“That’s what landed me in Exile in the first place.” said Salem. “The Order of the Divine knows something, but it’s as well-kept a secret as any.”

Keldon stroked his chin, tapping his foot against the cabin floor.

“So, what now?” asked Keldon.

“That’s why I’m here.” said Salem, he paused, taking a moment to peek out the prison crew windows, taking a long sniff of the air outside.

“There’s a chance one of the prisoners aboard this cart was born with the same magical aptitude that Emily had.”

“Prison break.” Keldon whispered under his breath.

Salem nodded.

“In three days, the lot of us will be taking a rest at a nearby river, I’ve arranged for someone I can trust to prep us a boat. Under the cover of night, I’ll create a diversion and during the chaos, break out the prisoners and head downstream, faster than they can even realize that they’ll be gone.

“So…where are you going?” asked Keldon.

“To the DarkSpine Mountains.”

“…where?”

Salem blinked. “You really have been working at the Hissings for six years.”

Keldon frowned.

“It’s the one kingdom in the Empire’s entire landmass where the WarAngels haven’t been able to gain a foothold.” said Salem. “I have an acquaintance there that’s agreed to grant us safe passage.”

“Then…what about me?” asked Keldon slowly.

“Keldon…” said Salem, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be continuing your journey to the Grand Academy as planned.”

Keldon stiffened. “But… t-this is related to the final calamity. It’s my mission too! Let me help.” Keldon pleaded.

Salem looked into Keldon’s eyes; there it was again, that same lust for heroism. He dropped his hand from Keldon’s shoulder.

“You have passion, that’s good. But you’re not ready.”

“I-“ Keldon stammered. But Salem was right.

But would he get another chance like this again? It was just a scribe position, it’s not like he was going to study to become a Magister or anything like that. But this… Salem’s cause, this was noble. This was right!

“No. I’m ready.”

Salem frowned, studying Keldon carefully as the two sat in silence.

“Fine. Prove it.” said Salem.

“Th-…wait. What?” said Keldon.

“You think you’re ready to tackle one of the greatest threats to existence itself don’t you?”

“I..I just-“

“We’re done talking.” Salem said, standing up. “Show me you’re ready. You’ve said enough.”

“I…”, but Salem was right, the time for talk was over. He HAD to show Salem that he was worthy of joining him. Because Keldon was a real hero, he HAD to be.

Otherwise, what was even the point of being alive. But Bertram’s words echoed in Keldon’s mind. Live your life for the living, not the dead.

But being a hero MEANT that he was living for well… the living. Right?

Keldon stood up.

“Let’s do this.”

.

.

.

“Dead.” Salem said, jabbing Keldon in the stomach. Keldon leapt back, dropping into Spiderstance as he sprung at Salem, unleashing a flurry of fists which Salem easily parried with one hand. Salem pulled Keldon forward, sending him lurching as he lightly smacked the back of Keldon’s head.

“Dead.”

Keldon stumbled, quickly reorientating himself as he turned to face Salem who casually stood in the center of the clearing they’d been using, arms held behind his back.

“Alright. Different approach then.” Keldon thought. He readied steelstance, planting his feet on the ground as he shuffled slowly towards Salem. But if Salem was worried, there was nothing on his face that betrayed that emotion.

Good. That was Keldon’s out.

He shuffled forward, suddenly launching himself forward as quickly shifted into beast stance as he swept his leg at Salem’s feet. With lightning-fast reflexes, Salem whipped out his own foot to swat Keldon’s leg away, but it had been a feint. Keldon pushed himself off the ground, clawing at Salem’s face, which Salem easily leaned backwards to avoid, grabbing Keldon’s wrist with an iron-like grip.

“Now!” Keldon thought. When he was thrown back earlier, he had grabbed a handful of sand, scattering it in Salem’s face to block his vision.

Using Salem’s grip as counterweight, Keldon twisted his wrist, pulling his body to chest height and spraining his wrist in the process. With beast-like ferocity, Keldon arced a kick, straight at Salem’s temple whose vision was still blinded by the sand.

“Sorry Salem, But I-“ Keldon thought, just as Salem caught Keldon’s leg mid-air, throwing him to the ground.

Salem bent down to a winded Keldon, and lightly smacked Keldon on the forehead.

“Not bad. But still dead.” Said Salem. “Alright, I think it’s time we giv-“

“No!” Keldon said, pulling himself off the ground. He struggled to get up, but summoned every ounce of willpower into his aching muscles, barely maintaining steelstance. His breath was ragged, but the fire in his eyes still burned. “Keep… going.”

“If you insist.” said Salem. Before Keldon could even react, he closed the distance between the two, slamming his fist into Keldon’s gut, sending him tumbling across the clearing like a ragdoll.

Salem thrust his left hand to the side, summoning his skill orb.

Activate Skill: Greater Origin of Flame

Before Keldon could even properly look up, pressed against his neck was an eight-foot-long scimitar made entirely of flame, illuminating the clearing. However, there was no heat, only where the tip touched the ground did Keldon hear a sizzling where the scimitar had touched a small stone, leaving it cut cleanly in two.

“Extra dead.”

Salem dismissed the blade as Keldon bit his lip, slamming his fist into the ground.

“Fine. I get it. I’m not ready.” said Keldon, struggling to pick himself up. Salem bent over, pulling him off the ground and helping him to a log nearby.

“Great. Now I just get to be an overpaid librarian at the empire’s most prestigious institution, while I wait for someone to save the world for me. That’ll do WONDERS for my conscience.” Said Keldon.

Salem handed Keldon a flask of water, taking a second before Keldon’s thirst won over his pettiness.

“Just your conscience huh.” Salem said, under his breath.

“What was that?” asked Keldon.

“You’re wrong though. For someone who’s only job was sniffing fumes for the last six years-“

“I didn’t sniff fumes.” Said Keldon

“Explains a lot. But anyways, for someone whose only job was to pick rocks out of dirt for the last six years, you’ve beyond surpassed my expectations.” Said Salem.

That did make Keldon feel a little better.

“Thanks. I learnt from a friend.”

“Oh?”

“His names Bertram. Ever heard of him?”

But Salem just laughed, a true laugh that came straight from the gut, lifting the heavy atmosphere which had blanketed the clearing as even Keldon couldn’t help but smile in confusion.

“What’s so funny? Know him or something?”

Salem wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye, “You could say that.” he said, grabbing the flask of water out of Keldon’s hand and taking a swig.

“Anyways, I think you’re ready.” said Salem, swirling the flask in his hand.

“What? Then what the heck was this all about?!” said Keldon

“Not that.” said Salem, smacking the top of Keldon’s head with the flask. “For limit-testing, time to see what you can really do.”

Keldon widened his eyes. “What? Here?!” he asked.

“Mhm.”

“What about that Jorhund guy? What if someone comes along? Plus, you said we’d need to do physical fundamentals for a week before my body was ready!”

Salem raised an eyebrow. “Is that a no?” he asked

“…Nope. I’m good, what do I do?”

“ Cheeky pup.” said Salem, lifting the corners of his mouth. Out of his pocket, he pulled out a small box, touching it with his left hand as he placed it over top a stack of logs where it grew rapidly, molding with a pop and a wheeze into a cauldron, bubbling with a red liquid.

“Uh…this isn’t dinner by any chance right?” asked Keldon.

“No. Get in.”

“Can you at least tell me what it is?”

“It’s for creating warding tattoos. And before you ask, warding tattoos stop people like me, from sniffing out people like you.” said Salem. “And you’ll have to get a dun skill orb before you start using your magic in front of people. But this is a good start.”

Salem peered into the vat, dipping his finger in and tasting the red liquid.

“Ew.” thought Keldon. Maybe it was stew after all.

“It’s only potent enough for a temporary application, you’ll need to reapply it in a year.”

“And if I don’t?” asked Keldon

Salem shot him a mocking look.

“Right. Dead. Gotcha.”

Keldon got into the cauldron, immersing himself in the bubbling liquid, which oddly wasn’t hot at all. Salem stepped behind him, placing his hand on Keldon’s back and summoning his skill orb.

Activate Skill: Curse of the Whisperer

“Curse?!!” Keldon thought, when suddenly the red liquid pushed itself into his pores, coursing through his body. It didn’t hurt, but damn it was absolutely fucking uncomfortable. The closest way he could describe the sensation was as if someone else had jammed their fingers up his nose, and then started touching the back of his eyeballs. A few agonizing minutes later, the volume of the red liquid had more than halved, changing into a strange dull grey paste which clung to his clothing.

“How do you feel?” Salem asked,

“Violated.”

“Then it worked.” said Salem, “You’ll need to cover the 3 black dots on your shoulder with prosthetics or makeup, but it’s otherwise undetectable.”

On his shoulder were 3 pin sized dots, barely noticeable to the naked eye.

“Hurry and get cleaned up.” Salem said, tossing him fresh clothes, taken from Keldon’s bag. “We’ve got magic to figure out.”