The day had started normally, like any other but by breakfast it had turned into anything but that. Shea was enjoying her mashed potatoes with a sputtering of greaves when a pale faced Mala ran into the canteen. With a frantic look she took in the whole room, then set her gaze on the two big men sitting with Alec further up the table from Shea.

“You have to come and see,” the elder woman said in a cold, dead sounding voice. Her face grew even paler as she said it, as if the words had brought back the purpose of the coming to the front of her mind. “Come. Now!”

Her shout raised the men who looked at each other with incomprehension but stood up and walked towards her. Mala didn’t wait for them, moving outside with an impatient wave for them to hurry up.

“Are you coming?” Denni asked with a full mouth, shoving the last bits of her meal in.

“But we weren’t invited…”

The soldier woman shrugged. “So what? We weren’t banned from following either.” She grabbed a wooden tankard with sweet water and draining it in a couple large gulps slammed it to the table. “So, coming?”

Shea glanced at her half-eaten meal and taking another bite put her fork aside. “Yeah.” It would be a waste, and she’ll feel hungry for half a day but it was important to find out what had happened. Maybe she could help with something?

“Let’s go then!”

As they rushed to the door, the rest of the soldiers joined them. Together they left and followed the people in the distance. They had made quite some headway in a few moments Shea had talked with Denni.

Not two streets over, they found the four standing around something. It was impossible to see through what was behind but the silence didn’t bode well.

All of them sensing that something was terribly wrong, they slowed their pace and approached with quiet steps. Not one head turned their way and they spread out on either side to have a glimpse of what was being blocked by the four figures.

Shea blanched at the sight, falling backwards. “No, no, no!” she said whisper which soon turned into a scream. “No, it cannot be!” Her whole body shook as old horrors resurfaced, nightmare images flashed through. They blocked her sight and she could no longer tell what was real.

It wasn’t possible. Not here, not now! All of them were supposed to be dead! Gone!

“Shea..?” someone asked carefully but she couldn’t pay any attention to the speaker.

Her eyes were on the torn throat, flesh ripped open without any blood in the vicinity. Fang marks everywhere with saliva covering the skin and keeping it from festering. There was not a shadow of doubt of who had found this man at night.

She covered her eyes but the images were still there. The heavy weight man, its bloodshot eyes seeing her as nothing more than food. Father jumping in the way, being overpowered, his neck sliced open right before her. Blood rushing out, the monster’s gaze shifting to it, greedily. Her hands reaching for father, praying to stop that life substance from leaving his neck and being kicked for her strong enough for bones to break. Falling down the hill, blackness overruling her mind.

Finding out it wasn’t just a bad dream.

“Shea!”

The shout broke through the nightmare and she saw a dark shape standing before her, blocking the sight. “How do you feel?” Alec asked in a soft voice. He watched her like an unknown beast, moving slow and cautious.

She wasn’t a wild animal! “Fine!” she hissed, crossing her arms to control the shaking. It didn’t help.

Shivers passed through her body and there was no stopping them. Even her eyes flickered, spasms passing through them. It was downgrading how she couldn’t control her own reactions!

Closing her eyes, she tried telling herself this was nothing but the images returned again and again, forcing her eyes open once more. No, no returning to that memory. Not now, at least. No, push those thoughts. Just don’t think!

Water was pushed towards her and she took it, fingers grasping the glass as if trying to break it apart. It held and she poured the clear liquid into her throat.

Spluttering, she reached for her neck, assuring herself that it was still there. It wasn’t hers. That torn open flesh, not hers. She was all right, it was okay. Her neck was just fine. She promised herself that, holding a gentle touch on her neck to prove to her mind that it was really so.

Someone helped her stand up and she allowed herself to be led away. As far away as possible. She didn’t want to think about what had happened there, the memory was too raw, too open. To see someone like that… And in such a familiar way…

No, she needed to think of something else. Focus on whatever until the image blurred in her mind, becoming just another memory among many. Just another one. Nothing special about it.

Alec left Tyr, who had volunteered to help her to the lodgings, and returned to the murder place. Most of those who had come were still standing, eyeing him with unreadable looks. Shea had surprised them all with her panic attack but reality was back, reasserting itself - they had a monster on their hands. A leech had entered their camp and Alec’s soldiers were looking for him to solve that.

“I brought him!” Grey shouted out, running to a stop before the body. He didn’t pay it a second look, immune to the gore from his old life or seeing Commander’s actions. Alec wasn’t sure.

After the boy, Iago came with a thoughtful expression on his face. It darkened upon the sight of the corpse but soon evened out. “I can’t help him, Grey. There’s nothing for me to do here.”

“Do you know anything about this?” Alec asked, turning on him.

The man answered him with a steady gaze, nothing hidden there or so he made it seem. “No more than you do, I’m certain. A vampire has made this city into his hunting grounds. Though, it’ll be awhile before he’ll show up again.”

“Awhile?”

“Look at this,” Iago said coming closer. He crouched before the dead man, touching his blueish face, arms, then the torn flesh at the neck. “There’s not a drop of blood. The vamp must have drained it all, meaning he’ll be full for days, maybe even a week if we’re lucky. Only then he’ll show his face again.”

Grey came to peer at the corpse, poking at it. “How can you tell it has no blood?”

“Colour,” shaper answered, and then produced a knife from somewhere and cut the wrist open.

Alec clenched his jaw at the sacrilege but kept his words down and moved to take a better look too. The flesh parted yet nothing rushed out. Not a drop of crimson seeped out.

Pushing his knife into the leg, Iago took it out showing the same thing. Nothing, the blade was clean. “You can see bite marks here,” the shaper said, pointing at small puncture wounds on the left leg, then found them on the other. “The vamp was thorough. It means he, or she, doesn’t want to hunt soon. Or enjoys watching the victims squirm in fear while sitting in some hidey hole.”

“What can we do?” Grey asked, hand moving to the sword.

“Nothing,” Iago answered standing up. He dusted his cloak off before replying. “As long as it’s in hiding, it’s impossible to find. Especially in a place like this. There’s more nooks and crannies than there are stars in the sky.”

Alec glared at the ruins around them. From his place he could see tens, hundreds of places to hide for a small creature leeches could shift into. Even now the abomination could be watching them, laughing at their impotence.

And there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it.

“Help me move the body,” he said and Malek moved to pick up the legs. Alec took the hands and started walking towards the south exit.

On the way he considered telling his group to keep this to themselves, not spread the panic but decided against it. People needed to know, understand the danger of wandering alone at night. No longer was it just a superstition. They had their own personal nightmare come alive.

Worse, he had no idea how they’ll have to face it. From the tales he’d heard, leeches were faster and stronger than normal humans. Only masters of sword were able to match them on pure instinct alone. Capable of attacking and defending before even seeing anything move, for that was already too late.

None in the camp was even close to achieving such a level of skill. It would take decades upon decades for that, which they didn’t have. Commander might be capable of something close but he doubted the man would come to their aid. Not as long as his precious Mistress wasn’t involved in it.

That left only Iago.

Again.

It was becoming a trend, and Alec didn’t like it. Uncanny. That’s how it felt. All their problems, all the things that would doom them, always kept on being solved by the shaper. It was almost as if Iago knew everything that was required to save them, win them over.

But for what purpose? What could he gain by earning their trust in him? It didn’t make sense. Shapers didn’t need to play power games because they had true power! One word from them would send cities scurrying to fulfil their every need.

That would mean Iago wasn’t playing at anything, but how was that possible? It was just too eerie. Giving them food, saving their lives, agreeing to teach swordsmanship of all things! - why would he do all those things without an ulterior motive? And more than that, how would he know all of those things?

Shea was a shaper too but she couldn’t do half of that. Death set her in a panic attack. Nor could she heal or shape food. The Mistress was no better in this accord too. Having once entered the mansion, he’d seen everyone eating old, dried food. There hadn’t been any shaping done for fresh ingredients.

There was no way to be sure, but he was certain, with all her strength and power, the Mistress wasn’t capable of returning old food back to fresh.

So, how could he? How could Iago know everything that was needed to help in keeping them alive? It was just too much of a coincidence!

And yet that stricken look in the man’s eyes when his power went out of control. It couldn’t be faked. He had been horrified for certain, flinging whatever was left to stop it. Alec had no idea what had transpired then; things moved too fast for him to see, but he knew he had survived. That, and the shaper had limped off as if drunk. His power must have been drained to the last, yet he later came to help bury the dead.

An act of grief or was it just a show? A way to make himself look more human after having revealed how quickly he could destroy them all?

But had he grieved? It was more like he had come to bury the past, hide whatever was there and forget about it. Hadn’t he himself said that he didn’t regret his actions? How could one grieve but do not regret? You had to choose! One or the other. Either you lament your actions, or you don’t. There shouldn’t be any in-between!

“Think Grey learned anything?” Malek asked as they lowered the body to the ground. It would have to be buried but the brothers were already digging, leaving Alec no place to join in.

“I don’t know. We’ll have to test him at some point.”

“Then why not now? Isn’t it the best time now that we know our new enemy. I’d rather know whether to practise what we’ve learnt or start on the new stuff.”

There was a point to the boy’s words. They didn’t have the luxury of time. If the shaper really knew anything, it was best they all started to learn it as soon as possible.

For some reason, he was certain they’ll end up doing that. It all just fit too well. The chain of events would be broken if Iago showed up not to know something, all the perfect coincidences or what looked such from the outside. How was Alec to know whether the man told the truth or not? Could he believe in him?

Old truths said no, but this was no longer that world. Everything had changed. Yet had the people? Weren’t all of the greedy disgusting souls the same? He only needed to look up at the Commander or the Mistress to know nothing had changed for them. They hadn’t had a care for people lower than them before, and neither did they now. Why would one mind the ants under one’s feet?

He cursed, fisting his hands. There were no answers for him. He would just have to continue on and hope that the shaper wasn’t a threat. Without him, they were all dead and that was a fact. If the shaper proved to be a danger later on, Alec would have to find a way to pacify him like he did with Commander.

That was all there was to it. No point in all these considerations, musings that led nowhere. It wasn’t his decision anyway. People will believe in Iago or not, it was up to them. He was here to make sure whatever they chose didn’t kill them. Already a task above his capabilities. There was no need to jump higher and presume to know the survivors’ minds and know what’s best for them.

“So, can we test him now?” Malek repeated his question. He was looking with an adamant stare, eyes fixated on Alec. “Can we?”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Go then, collect everyone.”

“And you?”

“I’ll talk with the shaper and Grey. Come meet me near the tower, we shall have our test there.”

There was hesitation on the young man’s face, he opened his mouth as if to say something but then closed and turned away. “Got it.” He was gone the next moment.

Alec watched his retreating back, wandering what he had said wrong but couldn’t recall anything. Shaking his head, he chose the already familiar road to the tower. The streets leading to it had become much more travelled now that most of the survivors had moved into the next building.

They found it reassuring, being so close to the shaper - for the first few days. Now, most were already changing their minds. Once the immediate danger was gone, they figured no one was going to attack them and found the presence of a shaper disquieting.

He’d heard the man often could be seen bowed over the table at the window, reading or writing, staring into the distance. What did he see? What kept him by that window each evening?

Questions that speculated hundreds of answers without anyone daring to approach the shaper to ask for the truth. For all they knew, it could be simple appreciation for the sunset. Alec was almost certain about it but survivors tended to look for something more mysterious, mythical almost. Led by Mala, they were turning him into a divinity.

Upon coming close to the tower, he was welcomed by the familiar dull sound of sword hitting against wood. Grey must be training. It was surprising how Iago had made the kid so interested in the sword. No matter what Alec had said, none of his fellow soldiers trained more than he forced them to. True, Lyra and Denni sometimes joined him in his practise sessions but it was more of keeping him company rather than any real interest in mastering their weapons.

So, what could have changed for Grey?

He knocked on the doors and the sounds within stopped. There was a shuffle of feet and out of breath Grey opened the doors. His hair was drenched in sweat, wet streaks evident on his brow. Lowering the sword to rest some weight on it, he peered at Alec. “Did something happen?”

“Can I speak with Iago?”

“Grey!” came a shout from the back. “What did I tell you about leaning on a sword?”

The kid jumped as if slapped, lifting the blade to his side. “Ah! Sorry!” Then he opened the door wide, inviting Alec in. He stepped forward, marvelling at what had been done with the room.

Last time he’d been here, it was an empty place. Dust and dirt, broken off pieces of bricks covering the ground.

Now the room had been cleaned for the most part. A small section to the right, by the window, was left for a sleeping bag, small clothing chest, Grey’s thrown down armour, while the rest was turned into a training room. Two human shaped dummies stood on the left, one of wood, bashed and battered, cuts everywhere, and the other made of straw with a brown robe on it. Certain parts of it were painted red and were stabbed dozens of times.

Further, closer to the staircase, another set of training equipment were set. It was the spinning dummies he’d heard about, seen in some building but hadn’t dared to use. They’d seemed like something only truly experienced practitioners would be able to manage. The only time he’d tried using them, he’d left with a dozen bruises and no better grasp of how to work with the contraption.

A large space in the middle of the room had been left free and that’s where Iago stood. He held no weapon, not even a wooden one in his arms and his breath was calm. Did that mean he only ordered Grey around, not doing anything himself? Could someone really be trained like that?

“How is it going?”

“Slow,” Iago answered coming closer so they didn’t need to shout at each other. “What brought you here?”

Right to the point then. Alec coughed into his hand, cleared his voice, then spoke. “We want to see what Grey’s learnt. It’s about time to prove your claim.”

“Claim?” Iago asked with amusement in his voice. “I did not make any claim. You decided to test me yourselves. But no matter. It’s too soon. I haven’t managed to get most of the lethal to himself habits he’s taught himself to follow in your footsteps, not even talking about teaching new techniques.” He crossed his arms. “It’s too soon.”

“Not at all!” Grey piped up. He came to stand at Iago’s right, straight and tall with an air of absolute certainty around him. “I won’t lose! I’ve learnt aplenty, Master!”

“Master?” Alec wondered as he watched the youth. He looked different somehow, more confident. Was that brought out by his new skills? Or having a shaper at his side?

Iago turned to glower at Grey. “I told him to stop with that but he’s stuck, saying some nonsense about appropriate and right.” He rolled his eyes to the heavens before returning to his student. “And you’re not ready. A monkey with a stick could beat you.”

Footsteps thundered outside and Alec turned to see five of his soldiers running in with Denni at the front. She barely stopped herself before barrelling into him. “I didn’t miss it yet, right? The fight between you and Grey is still yet to happen, right?”

“Me and Grey?”

“Of course,” Malek told him in a serious voice. “You’re the best of us.”

Alec looked around to see the hopeful faces, then shifted to note the raised brow of the shaper. “Already an audience?”

The man was amused! For some reason, that pissed him off and he scowled. Marching outside, he muttered, “Let’s get this over with.”

Iago chuckled at the man’s discomfort, the ease with which one of the youths had manoeuvred him into this situation. That Malek boy might be hiding a cunning streak behind the quiet and unsuspecting appearance. Though, his satisfied grin gave him away all too easily.

They shuffled outside and Iago was pleased to notice that Alec had positioned himself against the sun. Coordinated or not, Grey at least won’t have the light blazing into his eyes. He’ll need every little advantage if he wanted to win.

His thoughts returning to the grim reality, he grabbed his student’s shoulder. “Get the shield.”

“What? Why? I trained more with a double-handed grip!”

“You did what?” Iago roared, his grip tightening until pain twisted Grey’s features. He relaxed then, but didn’t let go. “Talk.”

The boy looked up at him doe-eyed. “I practised the sword and shield when you told me to, but you said I can try out the double handed grip on my free time. So- so I did!”

“All those nights..?”

His answer was a nod and Iago threw the fool to the side. Grey staggered, waving his arms to catch his balance and then straightened with a hurt written all over his face.

Iago covered his eyes with a hand, trying to rise above the wave of disappointment threatening to drown him. This had been a perfect opportunity for him to earn their trust, become a leader figure without putting himself forward. It would have all been so natural.

But what to do now?

There were a number of choices available to him. He could always play it like he had done his best, but it hadn’t been his idea anyway. Maybe even make them feel guilty for putting this burden of training on him.

Though, it could easily backfire. He was better off leaving it as a failure and moving on. Picking another path to gaining their trust. Maybe even playing around with the Scavengers. That connection Scorpius had won could be of use.

There was also the repairs of the temple. Having read more books than anyone had reason to, he could become a priest. Speaking Goddess’ words in this environment would win him many followers. Faith was an open ground for cultivation after an apocalypse.

Mala could serve him well too. She claimed he was the Hand of the Goddess and he could embrace it. The idea grated against his sensibilities, he’d dodged that title for so long, but if it was necessary. His plan had to succeed. He didn’t have a choice of losing in the final battle.

He noticed the unnatural silence in the street and found everyone watching him. There was disapproval in the scrunched foreheads, narrowed eyes and crossed arms. It wasn’t a challenge to know what spurred that negativity to life.

Letting out a deep breath, he turned to Grey. “Get your shield.” His voice was soft, kind almost but the boy flinched as if slapped, scurrying away with the tail between his legs.

Unfortunate. That’s what it was. He had been so happy with this development, he’d forgotten to pay attention. Not for a moment had he seen his student for more than a general pawn in his calculations. Had he done so, he would have known in an instant that the youth would be more attracted to the flashier duelling swordplay.

Even himself at that age he’d thought sword alone was enough. It could win any fight. Shields were for cowards and weaklings. Those without talent, or determination to learn the truth of the sword.

He couldn’t blame the kid. It was his own fault for being blind. No surprise then that his path to success was now blocked for him.

When Grey emerged, he was walking with his head down, shoulders drooping. The small shield was held loose in his left hand and the sword dragged from his right. A sorry sight if Iago had seen one.

Walking forward, he took up the kid’s left hand and tightened the straps to secure the shield to his hand. “Raise your head.”

The boy did as told but there was no fire in his eyes. He had already given up, a sheep being brought to slaughter.

It wouldn’t do.

“Give him space,” Iago ordered the crowd and took a few steps away himself. “Repeat the forms.”

Without any enthusiasm, Grey widened his stance, too wide, and raised his left hand with the shield. The sword was held a bit back, point first to the imaginary opponent. The stance was terrible. It was nothing even close to what it was supposed to look. With a sword and shield, the kid still managed to be full of openings.

Quickly returning to the training room, Iago returned with a staff. He used it to hit his pupil’s legs. “Stand firm, a gust of wind will fell you like that. Raise that hand, you’re defending your chest and head, not your crotch. Move that hand further, it’s supposed to threaten the enemy, not stick the blade into your own eye.” Each correction was followed by a smack, and a wince from Grey.

He grimaced, shifting into the next form and was smacked again. Repeatedly.

It lasted for a good half an hour, more maybe but no one interrupted. All watched with interest as Iago moulded Grey into something new. The going was slow but by the fourth run through the forms he was receiving much fewer pointers.

“Enough, for now,” Iago declared and Grey dropped his weapons, falling by them from exhaustion. His breaths came in short succession, sweat dripping down his face red from exertion. It wasn’t easy standing in some forms since they were meant to be used for a split second, defend and then counter-attack or retreat. You should never hold them long for the strain on the muscles.

In a real fight, it would be deadly. But this was practise and Iago hadn’t let him stop until he got it right. Or close to it. Well, something that at least looked like it. There were muscles that needed to be specifically trained to reach certain forms. You simply couldn’t do them unless you worked for years to achieve them.

He went into the tower and finding a skin of water among Grey’s items, brought it to the kid. The boy drank deep, savouring each gulp. “Thanks,” he murmured before returning the skin to his mouth and finishing the last of the water.

Sighing in content, Grey returned to lying on the street, limbs sprayed in all directions. Iago watched him for a moment, then waved for Alec to come closer. “A bit more, and you shall have your duel. Once he catches his breath.”

“Now? He’s exhausted!”

“He’ll be fine.” Iago dismissed his concern, returning back to the tower. He returned with a sword in hand, carrying it with disdain in his features. It was unfortunate he had to touch one at all. “Take it,” he said, passing it hilt first to Alec.

The soldier leader picked it with puzzlement. He looked over the blade, hefted it to judge the weight then looked up at Iago with a question evident in his eyes.

“It’s blunted. You two have no need to hurt each other more than necessary.”

Grey pushed himself up. His breathing had calmed considerably and a smile blossomed on his face as he turned to Iago. “I’m going to win this!” he vowed in a solemn voice but the feverish gaze in his eyes betrayed the uncertainty, the fear hiding beneath.

“No need for that.” Iago stepped forward, resting a hand on Grey’s shoulder. “You’ll test yourself and that’s what matters. Or do you feel like what you’re learning is inferior to your prior knowledge?”

“Not at all!” the boy was quick to reaffirm. “I’m certain I’ll be ten times better than them if I just had the time!”

Iago squeezed his shoulder, a half smile on his face. “Then do your best. Their approval is for them. Whether you win or lose, as long as you want to, I’ll show you all I know.”

“You will?” Grey asked with a quiver to his voice, his eyes blinking rapidly.

After his nod, the kid lunged to engulf him in a bear hug and Iago petted his back with awkwardness. This was a situation out of his expertise and it was quickly becoming apparent. Luckily, Grey soon released him, embarrassment with a touch of fear colouring his face as he understood what he’d just done.

“Thank you,” he murmured, eyes downcast. Then he turned away and picked up his sword to raise it in a challenge towards Alec.

The soldier leader raised his blade in turn and staring at each other the two moved away to have some space. As if hearing a silent command, the spectators took a step back, creating a very loose circle.

Iago stood behind Grey, alone. To his right Denni watched with Lyra, the two whispering among themselves. Their voices were too quiet for him to overhear but to his left Malek, Hugh and Quir weren’t so secretive. They voiced their opinions loud and clear about how Grey wasn’t going to make it.

There was more truth to their words than they knew, but somehow that made Iago feel indignant. Anger, annoyance rose within and he let them wash over, drown him. Then he pulled his eyes clear, focusing on the battle to begin.

Damn the newly made plans of glorious defeat. He wasn’t going down like this. Grey was going to win. He had to. If only to shut those irritating noise makers.