The air crackled with energy with the leaving of the man. Shea watched his quick departure with a growing sickness in her stomach. What was he thinking? The warning in her mind was clear - never use the Energy currents against their will.

Power held within them was too great for any mortal to hold. The sheer magnitude of it would start fraying the human’s soul as the Energy streamed through the body, unfettered and unrestrained. It would be days, most commonly hours before the person succumbed, his body torn apart from the inside.

Mother had once said that was the reason for shaping becoming exclusive to the nobles in the city. You needed a teacher to survive the shaping. Without the knowledge collected by observing thousands of early shaper deaths throughout the history of mankind, it was impossible to become anything.

The natural way was just to reach for the currents and let them go through you. A deadly trap.

She could remember a girl born to aunt Clare. It was a beautiful child, bright eyed and always with a smile on her face. But no one noticed she had the talent. One day one of the boys threw her toy in the stream in revenge of her poking fun at his terrible hiding skills.

If only it had ended at that.

The girl had gotten furious.

Shea, being on the other side of the village, could feel the currents going astray, changing their paths towards the other side. She’d ran then, scared and horrified at what was happening. Not once had her mother’s shaping elicited such a response from the currents.

When she reached the scene, it was already too late. The girl’s body convulsed, unable to hold everything inside. Blood streamed from her ears, nose, mouth. She choked on it as her legs gave in and she fell face forward. Catching herself with the hands, she vomited more blood.

It started seeping from all her pores. Crimson painted her whole body, mixed with some other pungent smelling liquid.

Hands faltered and the girl screamed. The sound was nothing more than a gurgle, harsh breaths rocking her whole body. Second, two more and then it was all over. The three year old lay in the pool of her own blood.

Adults then converged, stopping in their tracks upon the sight. Mother had been the first to start moving, covering the little girl with her robe. The boy was taken away by his parents and Shea dragged frozen by her father.

Mother returned only in the evening. Her eyes were sunken, hair in disarray but there was steel in her eyes. She had taken Shea to sit with her and explained what had happened.

“Remember, dear, never use or let anyone else use the raw power of the currents. They’re too powerful, too wild. No human can dream to posses them for long.”

“But they can, for a time?” she’d asked with a child’s curiosity. It was her first death and she still didn’t understand what had happened. In her mind, the girl had just gotten a bit sick and would wake up tomorrow.

“No! Never!” Mother’s voice had risen but sorrow lined her features. Wrinkles creased in that certain way that signified she was very tired and worried. “Shea, imagine the power to shape as a fire. What I have taught you is taking a torch and lighting it from the flames. Simple and safe, right?”

“Yeah!”

Mother took her hands then, looking straight into her eyes. “But the direct way is taking a burning branch from the fire itself. No matter how quickly you pick it up and throw away, you’re still going to get burned.”

She’d forgotten that moment, the girl’s death being overshadowed by father’s. Conversation sinking deep within the recesses of her memory but the meditation had brought it back. The more the currents ravaged inside her, the clearer it became.

What she’d done was also in part use of raw power from the currents.

Had Iago known? Had he knowingly sent her into the danger? There had been very little chance she would regain her shaping rather than dying.

“Shea?” a voice asked beside her. She turned to see Denni staring at her with worry in her eyes. “Is everything all right? You’ve spaced out for so long!”

“Yeah… I’m just a bit tired.”

Truth was, she couldn’t put her mind around the fact Iago was still alive. He’d shaped so many times without having any talent whatsoever. His claim otherwise had to have been a lie for the people here. But why would he do that?

“Should I help you get back?”

The thought of having to return to the same room made her shiver. She didn’t want to remember the time spent on the verge of death. Every unsuccessful passage of currents, not leaving a drop for her to cultivate, was like a knife wound. One stabbed again and again until she had lost any hope of making it alive.

Alec walked closer, watching her with his dark blue eyes. “Would you like to stay with us? There’s two extra beds in the girls’ room.”

“Yes!” she shouted out before catching herself. Heat washed over her face at the reaction.

“Deal then,” Alec said with a smile. “Denni, she’s now under your care.”

“Yes, sir!” the girl saluted with an exaggerated clack of boots as she straightened in an official military form to show respect. Other soldiers laughed at her actions and together they left the mansion’s premise.

While they walked, Denni told her about the latest expedition, how they subdued a group of thieving scavengers. Those bandits had had the audacity to attack the soldiers, wishing to wipe them out and steal all they had. Denni was sad they had to be killed but there hadn’t been any other choice. It was kill or be killed.

Such reality was tough for Shea to grasp. People attacked each other on sight to get the supplies… Everyone wanted to live but was it really necessary to kill? Couldn’t the two groups combine and help each other instead? It would make so much more sense!

“Can’t we talk to them?” she asked her companion.

“Talk? Why would you want to talk with those monsters?”

“But if we explained everything… We may be able to reach an agreement, and then work together to survive!”

The girl laughed at that, armour creaking as she took out her sword. It was a fine weapon as far as Shea could tell, not rusted in the least. “Why should we share our dwindling food with those brutes? They know nothing but ambushing us and stealing what rightly belong to us! They don’t deserve to be saved!”

“But that’s wrong! Every life matters!” Shea disagreed. How could anyone think otherwise? Every human had but one life! It had to be treasured, not thrown away or taken on a whim. “Killing is never the answer! We should ta-”

Alec came from behind, putting his gauntleted hand on her shoulder. There was sadness in his voice when he spoke. “We tried that at first. None of us want to do it this way, Shea. We just… don’t have a choice.” He removed his hand, shifting his gaze from her to the ground. “They don’t listen, and we can’t stay back. All of us want to live, too.”

“That’s right!” one of the soldiers, Tyr maybe? , added in a cheerful voice, brandishing his own blade. It reflected the light of the setting sun, a pinkish hue reminding her of diluted blood in the rain. “It’s the fault of those savages! They deserve everything that’s coming to them! I can’t wait for the moment we can wipe them all out!”

“Right, right, now put those blades back where they belong. Didn’t I tell you not to unsheathe them unless you mean to use them?”

The boy sent a glare Alec’s way but put his weapon back. “Fine.”

Denni did the same without the snappiness. “Sorry… It just feels so nice to hold it in my hand. I feel like I don’t need to be afraid of anything!”

There was a tired smile on Alec’s face as he nodded and went forward. When he was out of earshot, Shea turned to her friend. “Is he all right?”

“Who? Alec?”

After Shea’s nod, she was about to speak again but Tyr was faster. “He’s weak! That’s what happens to him after each expedition! I don’t understand why Commander has made him the leader at all!”

“Weak?”

“He doesn’t like fighting,” answered the boy with disdain in his voice. “That makes him a weakling! Like those scavengers!”

“Don’t say that!” another voice joined in. Lyra, the other female soldier, came to join their small group, pointing a finger at Tyr’s chest. Metal clinked against metal. “Don’t speak of him like that! He’s the most hard working of us!”

“So what if he’s too afraid to use those skills!”

“He cares for human life, like you should!”

“That is what makes him weak!”

“N-” Shea’s quiet voice was drowned in the heated argument. Denni had joined in, and the three of them had lost sense of the outside world. Interrupting them was a task above her exhausted state.

Still, it was shocking to see them having such different views. She’d thought them a single unit, one mind shared between all but that idea was being trampled to the ground by the three. Only thing shared was the idea that scavengers had to be killed. None fought against that notion.

Shea listened to them with growing fear. Was it really necessary to kill others? Will they expect her to do the same? Her stomach riled at it. It was impossible. Her hands shook just considering it.

How could she take life when all her life her mother had taught her to treasure it? She’d been a healer! Shea might not have been exceptionally interested in following her footsteps but that wasn’t because she didn’t care for life! Opposite of it!

To learn to save life, you had to sacrifice a part of your humanity. Many mistakes had to be made before one learnt how to shape human body. There were just so many organs, muscles, bones and other things inside! One mistake, one nail thick larger shaping than planned and the person died. And so often you had to do it without seeing the inside of the body!

Blindly trying to shape human insides. She couldn’t stomach it. How many lives would have had to be lost for her to learn? Who was she to waste them for her own improvement? Her conscience couldn’t take it. Not that many ghosts haunting her every step, the knowledge that she killed them all.

At times, watching her mother work, she wondered how many lives had that healing cost. Was it ever worth it? Did the count ever grow higher on the saved side rather than the lost? And if it did, was it still worth it? Who could judge the price of a life? Say that one was more worthy than the other?

Denni touched her shoulder lightly when a large building came into their sights. Or once large. It was one floor high, spanning for the length of the street. Built from unusual red bricks it stood out from the buildings opposite it.

Most of it, of course, had collapsed. Still, the remainder occupied a large space.

Noticing her interested gaze, Denni spoke up. “It’s the old barracks. They were very grand back then! Now it’s like this, but we still feel more like soldiers living in this place!”

“Should I really stay here, then? I’m no fighter…”

“Nonsense!” Denni said, pushing Shea through the doors. “You saved my and Lyra’s life! You’re a hero!”

Shea didn’t think it was anything like that but didn’t have the energy to argue. All she did was get in the way, become terrified and blast the place to dust. Where were the heroics in such actions? None, none at all.

She was the same scared girl that Iago found in the ruins of her village.

All he’d taught her had accounted for nothing at the time. Not only his, but mother’s teachings too. She should have known better than to use up everything. What was the point of surviving if you died right after from spending every bit of energy your body possessed?

“This is our room!” Denni exclaimed with pride. It took Shea some time to push the regrets away, which the other girl took as dissatisfaction. Her face lost the pride it had shown moments ago, eyes darting around the room with harsh appraisal. “I know it’s not much… You’re probably used to everything so much better… I should have found you a better. Maybe we can still find something in the city? If it would…”

“It’s fine!” Shea interrupted her the first moment she could. “This room is great! It’s much larger than anything I’ve had before!”

And that was true. Ten paces long and five wide, it was a giant of a room. Out of six beds two on the far end were broken but the rest were fine. They were simple with a thin cover on top and a chest at the foot. To the right of the entrance, a table stood with abandoned cards on top. The set was worn out, having seen its share of use.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Can I take either of the free beds?”

The two by the window to the street were occupied, clothes thrown on the chest rather than inside. Sheets were half on the ground, only a small part remaining on the bed.

“Sure, choose whichever you want.”

She looked from one to another, and seeing no difference settled on the one closer to the door. Less walking.

Sitting down, she felt exhaustion wash over her. She hadn’t done anything besides some walking but her mind almost blanked out from the bliss of resting. Dinner would be served soon but she couldn’t imagine herself making all the way there. It was out of the question.

Instead she lay down and sleep took her in seconds.

Next morning the commotion in the room woke her up. Metal clanged against metal, something fell to the ground. Leather straps strained and someone was groaning a lot.

“Shh! You’ll wake her up!” Lyra’s whisper reached her ears.

“But I can’t attach that pauldron! It keeps slipping out!”

“Quiet! Let me help you!”

It was too late to return to sleep, and Shea pushed herself up. Yawning she looked at the scene before her. Denni had put on half of her armour on and was struggling with the upper half. Her right hand reached for the left shoulder straps but they kept slipping through her fingers. Most were too far for her hand to touch.

Still, she tried and almost got one connected. Almost.

The strap split, sending the pauldron crashing down. Denni cursed, stomping in place before kicking the offending item. “I hate it! I hate it!”

“Calm down… Let me give it a try,” Lyra said with a sigh, her armour mostly fastened in place. She went to the other side of the room, picking the pauldron and approaching her companion.

Denni glared at the piece of armour but turned her shoulder towards Lyra, to make it easier for her to attach it to the rest. This proved to be quite an easy task but it was as still a long time till the two were fully finished with their armour.

“Is it like this every morning?” she asked, noting the sheet on her body. Someone must have covered her when she’d fallen asleep. It reminded her of home, mother caring for her after a weary day at work.

Water collected in her eyes, and she turned away, blinking the tears away. It’s been weeks now. She should stop crying over every little thing that reminder her of times gone. They were over! She had to become strong to survive here.

For herself and everyone else that died that day. She would continue with their memory and show them the new world. There was no reason to cry.

And yet the sorrow clutched at her heart.

“Oh, you’re awake!” Denni laughed, her cheeks heating up. “Sorry for being so loud.”

“It’s fine,” she said, getting up. Her body was as lacklustre as yesterday. Muscles complained with movement, each requiring much more effort than normally. Still, she stood up without any help and stretched. “Have you had breakfast already?”

“Nope. Let’s go now!”

Together they left the barracks and went towards the canteen. Warm morning sun kissed their faces, wind carrying sand and ashes in lazy swirls. Some of it was thrown at them but Shea barely noticed. There was just too much of dust everywhere to keep paying attention to it.

Food was served as they arrived. Shea looked for Iago, having a bad feeling he’d shaped again. Had he no care for his own health? How long could he continue like this?

To her surprise, she was not the only one wondering that. People couple seats away were discussing the rumour of Iago having no talent, those on her right talked of him risking his life to shape. The loudest were sitting next to the other table.

Three of the soldiers were there, and some other people of their age. Couple of them she recognised as people from the group that had revered Iago as Hand of the Lady.

“It’s impossible! He’s here to save us all! Why can’t you see that?”

“He’s just pretending! The girl must have been ordered to say that to earn our pity! No shaper would risk their life for us - commoners!”

“But he’s di-!”

“Different how? That he pretends and tries to win us over with fake acts of kindness? He can’t win against the Mistress and that’s it!”

Two youths stood up in a rush, their plates rattling from the motion. “You’re wrong!” one of them shouted out. “He’s the strongest, and the only righteous one!” the other added. Their voices were so high, the whole canteen quieted to watch the scene.

Neither of the people at that table noticed the attention.

“He’s a pretender,” the soldier who’d been at the forefront of the argument laughed. “He’ll lose against the Mistress and that’ll be the end. Even he himself said that the difference in their power is the same as the distance between heaven and earth.”

“Believe it if you want.” One of the standing youths sneered. His eyes lit up with malevolent light as he added, “I’ll comfort your sister once you’re gone. She’ll need support, you know, her brother having died for choosing the wrong side and all that…”

“You!” the soldier roared drawing out his weapon. His opponent paled, took a step back into his companion. Both of them tumbling to the ground.

The soldier cared not for it, advancing with fury twisting his features. His hand shook as he raised it to stab his struggling to stand up opponent. “Never talk about my sister that way!”

Shea saw Alec jumping to his feet as the sword descended and knew, as he must have, that he would never make it in time. The sword fell.

A plate crashed into the soldier’s hand. He screamed out in pain, the sword dropping from his hand right before reaching its target. Furious, the man turned. His actions were quick but calculated, like a cat’s ready to pounce on her pray.

“Stop this foolishness at once,” Iago’s voice rang through the canteen. He was standing in a corner, dressed in a blending cloak of dark brown, his cowl thrown back. “If you want to argue about your beliefs, don’t drag me into it.”

The swordsman picked up his weapon, aiming it towards the shaper. Iago walked forward, brushing the wavering sword from his path as if it was a harmless stick. “Have I made myself clear?” His voice was soft but everyone in the canteen heard it. The veiled violence behind.

A gulp, a snicker. Iago shifted his attention to the two who named themselves his followers. Not giving them time to explain themselves, he shaped. Shea saw the currents twist, leave their path and converge on his being. It lasted for a moment, quick flash of usage, then it was gone.

The Energy currents were moving in their natural path, flowing through the world as they had done for ages past.

Besides her, no one seemed to have noticed anything amiss. They stared at Iago, waiting for him to do something. When instead he went past the two youths, they turned to say something, smiles on their faces.

Those soon changed into grimaces. The two cried out in silence, not a sound leaving their mouths. They gaped like fish out of water, waving their arms around their heads. Others stared at them, speechless from shock rather than shaping.

Iago stopped for a second, glancing back at the two. “Don’t go using my name for your petty squabbles.” He then looked over the whole canteen. “That goes for all of you. Next time I won’t be so ‘kind’.”

The doors slammed shut behind him.

“What was that about?” Denni wondered by her side, her meal forgotten.

“What were you thinking? Drawing your sword against other citizens?” Alec roared, stopping before the soldier like a furious parent.

His underling lowered his eyes. There wasn’t any fight left in him.

“Tyr, return to the barracks and clean up everything. If I see a single speck of dust on any of the armour or a dull blade, you’ll be thrown out right that moment. The very second I see it!”

The soldier opened his mouth as if to say anything but then just nodded. His comrades watched him leave with pitying gazes but none said anything. Was he that disliked or was everyone so scared of Alec? It hadn’t been exactly the boy’s fault. Those other two were no better, taunting him like that.

It would be unfair to just punish him.

But no one from the crowd stood up. She looked at each face, most already turning away to their meals, and none held any compassion. The show was over, they had more important things to take care of.

“Caleb, Aron, are you all right?”

The two boys that had taunted Tyr now shook their heads at Alec. The first pointed at his mouth, opening and closing it without making any noise. It was clear he was trying to talk but nothing came out. The other was touching inside his mouth, clearly looking for what was wrong with it.

“That damned shaper!” cursed Alec. “They might not live till the evening!”

“Aren’t you overreacting?” Mala asked, coming to stand by one of the boys. She put her hand on his shoulder and he seized exploring his mouth, turning to wrap his arms around her waist. The woman smiled at him, hugging the boy in return. “Shh. Don’t worry. It’ll all be fine. This is a small lesson in attitude. I warned you about it, didn’t I?”

There was an non-committal grunt from the boy. His friend rushed to Mala’s side too, joining the hug with a whimper.

“It’s all right.” The woman lowered to be on the boy’s height. The two were between twelve to fourteen years old but small, thin for their age. “Let them talk, throw dirt on us. Don’t fight against the injustice. Just know in your heart what is true and that shall be enough. He will protect us when the time comes.”

“By killing you with his shaping? You cannot know what he did to them!” Alec stood stiff, looking at the woman with scorn.

She looked up and spoke with warmth in her voice. “He’s not cruel. What he did was a lesson to us all. Power resides in him and he won’t abide for it to be used for petty threats. The world he desires can not be created by violence but the kindness of the heart.”

“And what he did isn’t a petty threat?”

“He could have killed them,” the woman said, her voice growing in strength. “He could have killed and walked away. None here would have dared to oppose him. But he didn’t! He cares for us all! This,” she motioned towards the boys,” is his way of warning us not to abuse his generosity!”

“Madness,” muttered Alec, stalking away. The rest of the soldiers quickly stood up and followed after. Shea joined in, leaving the majority of her food untouched. It was probably going to end up a mistake but she didn’t want to get left behind.

There wasn’t anyone else she knew, and those people were strange. They watched the interactions of their fellow survivors as if they were seeing a show. Something for their entertainment. Not one person rose to intercept Tyr when he unsheathed his weapon, or voiced a cry when Iago shaped two of their children.

Moments after, they were eating. What happened forgotten.

“Are you going to join us on our patrols?” Denni asked in a quiet voice. She was watching Alec up ahead, his gait not slowing down in the least.

“Patrols?”

“That’s what we do when we’re not going on expeditions. Commander says it’s good for the morale of the people to see us walking around.” She turned with a smile to Shea. “It would make it even better if we had a shaper on our side too.”

Shea wondered what would that change. Her powers were gone. For a time, anyway. It would be a week at least before she could shape again. The pool within her was but a handful of water. With this much she could change a fist sized stone to dust at best.

Was that why Iago used the raw currents? He had so little power that he couldn’t accept it?

But why would anyone risk their life for the power… He could just be living normally, no shaping necessary. His survival instincts were top notch, there was simply no need for him to be anything else.

Yet he wasn’t satisfied with that. He shaped every day, earning love and disgust from the people. It wasn’t hard to understand why they mocked him. He was the weakest of the three shapers present.

And that scared her a bit. He was the weakest, almost talentless, yet he had so much control over his power. The delicateness of his work was astounding. Food shaping was hard enough. You had to be familiar with all kinds of products; seen, touched them in their raw states and understood the inner workings. Meat was much more than just a slab of red material.

But did he stop at shaping it? Not at all. Human body. How could he be so familiar with it with so little power? He shouldn’t have been allowed to experiment. With so little power, the sacrifices would never become worth it.

So, what did he do?

A shiver ran down her body. Could Tyr have gotten something right in his tirade? Was Iago just pretending? Even without living in the capital, she knew no one would have taught him. This little power… No one would have even noticed it!

There were much more people that could see the currents than the common folk believed her mother had said. Every hundredth person could. But only one in a thousand could actually use that power flowing through the whole world.

Out of those even fewer could do anything more than shape hand sized objects after years of training, their pools nothing more than puddles.

For Shea to be born with true talent to her mother - a shaper - was a miracle onto itself. The talent was hereditary but even with both talented parents there was less than fifty percent chance for the offspring to see the currents.

This kind of rarity, it was unparalleled that among the fifty something survivors there were three shapers. Yet that didn’t change the fact that Iago shouldn’t have been among the count. He could see the currents at best. He didn’t have the pool inside of him!

It was unnatural. Wrong and Dangerous.

She had to find out his reason for doing this and make him stop. There was no reason for him to risk his life at every turn. If anything, she could take over his duties with just a bit of practice. It would be perfect. No more worries for him.

The burden was supposed to be hers for being born with the power to change this world.