Power swirled within Shea. She let it build and then extended her hand towards a pile of broken furniture before her. In her mind, she constructed a clear image of two chairs with curved armrests and straight, uncomfortable backs.

Energy beckoned for freedom and after deciding the image was clear enough, she let it go. The Energy surged through her body and into the wreckage, shaping it to her desire. With a held breath she watched as the wooden parts regained their colour, cracks filled up with wood and everything rose from the ground, turning into a chair.

It was exactly as she imagined. Putting weight onto it, she was further relieved to have it hold her weight. The chair was perfectly made. There were no mistakes in her shaping.

Shea then turned and grabbing a handful of sand, imagined it turning into a chocolate. In a heartbeat she held five square pieces of dark brown sweets. She eyed them uncertainly, taking a closer look, smelling but recognised no difference. The chocolates were identical to the ones she’d eaten before.

Weren’t they?

Closing her eyes for a second, she opened them resolutely and threw one of the small sweets inside her mouth. Sweetness… and then she spit it out. Coughing. She clawed at her tongue, wishing to get the taste off with little success.

The sweet bitterness became worse than a grapefruit’s. She drank water from a skin tied at her waist but it helped little. Disgusting bitterness remained stuck in her mouth.

Why was it always like this? She was on the verge of tears from fury and revulsion at her own inability to make use of her power. Her talent was ten times better than Iago’s yet she couldn’t express a fraction of it in her actions!

How could he do it? How was he able to shape as if it was as easy as breathing? Not once had she seen him fail as miserably as she continuously did. The worst of his was water with an after-taste of ash when he was exhausted. Exhausted! She couldn’t shape drinkable water in her best condition!

Folding where she was standing, Shea grabbed handfuls of sand. It twisted and formed into wooden knives, ruby rods, dandelion stems. They changed with every breath as the Energy surged out of her pond, through the body, hands and into the grasped items.

Last of all liquid dripped through her fingers. It was colourless and see through but Shea did not deceive herself into thinking that it was water. The taste would be nothing alike. Like all the food she shaped. For some reason no matter how many times she tried creating it, nothing worked. The appearance and smell was easy, no one could tell the difference, but inside…

A footstep sounded a street away and she stood up. Tyr rounded the corner, a wide smile on his face. “Hey! How is it going? I have some good news!”

“What news?” she asked, ignoring the question he asked. Soon enough she will be able to learn. The difference between her and Iago couldn’t be that large. He might have been trained but his power was an indistinct shadow of one. What he would require months to learn while risking his life, it wouldn’t take more than a couple days for her. She could repeat her actions so much more often, shaping for ten times the length he was able. And without any risk to herself.

Tyr noticed the skipped question but his smile did not dim. Dismissing her quietness, he motioned behind her in a wide sweep. “Iago was summoned by the Mistress! He’s going to be put into place, maybe even executed for his transgressions!”

“What?”

She’d heard rumours about such practises in larger towns and cities but never saw a hanging herself. In her village, murder was deemed unholy and wrong in all its forms. There was no right reason to kill a human being.

“It’s probably just wishful thinking, though,” Tyr said with a sigh, his expression falling somewhat. At this moment she was clearly reminded of his age, how much younger that her he was. To think murder was a solution to anything.

Death did not solve a thing. It only created more problems. More anger and rage, feelings of vengeance and indignation.

Tyr added that it was just an invitation so the Mistress probably wanted only to hear his side of the story for now. It will take her time to listen to all accounts, learn everything that was done by the man before she could make the decision being certain of her choice. Because of this, it was their job to make sure the shaper did not destroy the camp until the day of judgement came.

The words rang hollow to Shea, she did not trust Mistress any more than she trusted Iago. Less probably. From what she’d seen, the noble lady was anything but caring.

But maybe her first impression was wrong. She did not want to judge a person, create one in her mind instead of meeting the real one. Her mother often said that many people appeared crass and inconsiderate at first glance. This was because they were careful with their inner selves, having been hurt before. It was only right to give them time and allow to show their fine selves.

“I’m certain she’ll make the right decision,” Shea said, glancing back down at the dandelions in her hands. Whatever was the case, she had to become stronger. Her power needed to become more precise. Only then she could control Iago by herself and get the truth about the leech out. “I will make him see the truth,” she swore to herself quietly.

“What was it?” Tyr asked with a sheepish grin. “I did not catch it.”

“Nothing, just talking to myself,” she answered. “Thanks for coming to tell me that. I will train even harder now!”

“Yeah! Do it! Then we can force him on his knees even before the Mistress comes out our aid!”

Her lips twitched into a forced smile. Tyr was being too forward, his hatred for Iago open for her to see. The ugliness of it. “Yeah.”

While she was considering the best way to become stronger fast, Alec stared at the towering mansion and felt a companion to her ineptitude. The confidence brought out by his new clothes and steadiness of a sword at the hip was short lived. The moment the gigantic building came into view, his mind riveted to the dwarfish guard house at its side. Old bruises ached at the memory even as he told himself it was just his imagination. The healing salve had numbed all his real pains.

“Don’t think about it. Just stand behind me and look menacing. Commander no longer has any power to reach you.”

“That’s what you say,” Alec hissed, disliking the thinness in his own voice. It sounded like a whine.

Iago glanced back at him. “I don’t plan to just roll over and plead forgiveness.” After a moment’s hesitation he added. “Whatever I say, don’t say or do anything. I’ll answer all your questions once we leave.”

It sounded dangerous. He eyed the shaper’s back, his swift but unhurried stride towards the main gates. “What are you planning then?”

“You’ll see,” Iago answered in a low voice, raising his head to stare at the top of the mansion. There was a shadow of movement within one of the windows but it was soon gone. “Just don’t act. Whatever you hear, stay still.”

“All right,” he promised. What else was he supposed to say after agreeing to come here? His best chance was to do as told and hope it was the right decision. Iago seemed certain of his path, or at least was good at pretending to be so.

The gates opened for them and they strode in, Alec a few steps behind. His hand itched to rest on the pommel of his new sword, seek the comfort of its cold metal. He resisted it until Commander walked out from the guard house with a smirk. Chuckling at their expense he went into the house, a servant picking up his cloak.

Iago didn’t bother with a reply to Commander’s insult and walked after him up the stairs. Another servant welcomed them, bowing and taking the letter Iago presented him. After glancing at its contents he led them through a corridor decorated with bright hanging carpets on which horsed warriors rode into battle with a flag held high by the standard bearer, conscripts raced down a hill towards scattered wolf people and nobles duelled in a wide arena.

For a heartbeat, he thought he recognised the fighters. He was almost certain the long black haired one was Elecar in his legendary battle for the Champion’s name at the youngest age of twenty one. But before he could make certain of it, Iago rounded a corner to follow the servant. Alec had to hurry up not to get left behind. Heart aching, he rushed off. Maybe he’ll get a chance to examine it more thoroughly on their way back.

When he caught up, Iago gave him a questioning look but did not ask anything aloud. Alec shook his head in answer, hoping the shaper would understand it wasn’t anything important.

They were led through wide doors into a humongous room. Alec stared at the side walls that were far enough away to be in shadow. The ceiling hung as high above as the sky. He wouldn’t be surprised if it reached the roof of the mansion, right past the seventh floor.

It took them a good couple minutes to walk to the other side of the room where the Mistress sat at the head of a table. She was dressed in a forest green gown with more jewels than Alec had seen in his life. They sparkled reflecting the light of a dozen torches fastened to man high holds surrounding the table and newly lighted candles on the table.

Upon noticing the Mistress, Iago stepped forward and bowed to his waist. Alec followed, fully aware that his was a poor imitation. He was certain it was as awkward as he felt doing it.

“Lady Winteridge, it is an honour to see you again. Your beauty is a reprieve in this ravaged world,” Iago said straightening up and moving to stand by the Mistress.

She chuckled at that, extending her gloved hand for him to kiss. “You don’t waste time, Mr..?”

“Harius Candarian, at your service my lady. Though lately I’ve been going by Iago.”

“Iago..” she murmured as if tasting the word, then nodded. “Please sit at my right. Kalvin!” Her voice was razor sharp. “Bring in the guests and call for the food to be brought in. Hurry up!”

“Yes, Mistress,” a middle aged man answered from the shadows and disappeared. He walked so quietly Alec could not be certain whether he left the room or not.

Iago walked to the other side of the table and sat down with a flourish. It was as if he’d trained every step of sitting down a hundred times until each one was mastered to perfection. Not a single unnecessary movement, or one that could be seen as crude or primitive.

Alec stared at that display wondering what was all of this about. Did all nobles act this way? He couldn’t imagine a reason to. This must have taken plenty of time to master and as far as he saw served no purpose. What did it matter if you plopped down on a chair or sat like a with a grace of a king as if the whole kingdom was watching.

“Captain,” Iago barked and it took a moment for Alec to understand the word was aimed at him. He hurried to the shaper’s side, finding his place behind his back. Feeling too close still, he took a couple more steps back until he was mostly in the shadow.

Not long after, people filed into the room. Nine nobles in total, their clothes ranging from deep burgundy to a lady dressed in an eye-catching yellow gown. She sat down close to the Mistress but not on her immediate left. That place remained empty even after everyone found their seats.

Servants came bringing food on large plates. Interested, Alec strained his neck to see what was inside them. It took them a long time to place everything on the table, make sure it was aligned until they went about taking off the covers from the plates.

A thick smell of spices wafted off the table. On top of half the plates was neatly arranged thin slices of meat. Appalled Alec bit his lip to stop himself from bursting into laughter. All the meat was smoked. It might have been tasty at some point but by now it was dry and there was a veiled disgust on the faces of nobles as they stared at the meal. No amount of spices was going to hide the truth of what they were forced to eat day by day.

On the side there were pancakes, freshly baked bread but in small amounts. They must not have much flour left. Sweets and dried fruits were also placed scarcely. Most of them in the reach of the Mistress.

Still, her lips puckered as she stared at her dinner table. She was no different from her nobles in being sick of smoked meat.

Alec wished he could see Iago’s look now, knowing that he provided a positive feast for the survivors in comparison to this sorry table. The camp ate fresh meat and vegetables. Urri cooked a different meal most days. It was rare to get tired of anything when she had the choice of all the ingredients in the world. Their meals were limited only by her imagination.

Mistress was the first one to knife a small piece off and bring it to her plate. She tasted it and smiled, waving her guests to partake in the meal. This, of course, did not include Alec. He stood far enough to remain out of the torch’s light and could spend his time overlooking the crowd.

All of the nobles were secretly staring at Iago as they cut their meat and ate it in slow bites. A few further from the Mistress were whispering between themselves but the rest were quiet. Their gazes moving between the lady and the guest on her right. None of them were introduced to him.

When the lady was finishing her main meal of smoked meat with bread, a shape from far back in the room stepped forward. He had been so deep in the shadows, Alec had not noticed him before but now it took all his self-control not to leap and run for the closest exit.

Commander was coming for him.

No, no, not for him. He breathed hard.

Commander wasn’t paying him any mind. His eyes were solely for Iago, eating carelessly. The shaper did not bother to even raise his head when the huge man walked over to stand right beside him.

“You give your pet a lot of allowances,” he said offhandedly as he put away his utensils. He still did not look at the warrior who’s face was growing redder by the second, his fingers twitching to close in on the enamelled pommel of the great sword at his hip.

Alec counted the seconds till Iago was beheaded. There was no way Commander would suffer such an insult. He knew personally the pride of that monstrous man. The slightest bit of disrespect put you on his bad side, a place where pain was plentiful and ever-lasting. Did Iago have no sense?

Shaper. He’s a shaper. It wouldn’t be so easy to kill him. But wasn’t he trusting too much in the generosity of the Mistress? He was openly insulting her favourite guard.

The lady chuckled, covering her mouth with a white gloved hand. Her laughter was soft and pleasant to he ear, and Alec found himself staring at her perfect aristocratic features; round blue eyes, high cheekbones with a bit of painted colour on the cheeks and lips. White skin of her neck glistened in the firelight. He followed its graceful line disappearing within the folds of her evening gown. Uncomfortable he swallowed and adjusting his belt turned away. The sight of Commander quickly cleaned his head of any stray thoughts.

“You’re not afraid I’ll take his side?” Mistress asked with another laugh, her hand moving to rest above her ample chest. Alec was quick to look away.

Iago tilted his head at her. “Trust the word of that disgusting animal? ? I do hope the quality of this commune hasn’t fallen that low.”

Muttering rose around the table as the nobles expressed their quiet displeasure. But the lady quickly waved it off. “You know who he is?”

“A stain on all Kharan? Not only did he destroy his father’s reputation, he went and made himself known to the other kingdoms too. I would have hoped the destruction would take him first but it is made clear to me now that this was no divine punishment the priests so often preached. Else,” he motioned in the general direction of Commander,” those like him would not have made through.”

Fury coloured Commander’s face and his sword swung free of the scabbard. But before he could say or do anything, Iago turned to him with a contemptuous look. “As I said, a disgusting animal.” Sneering, he turned back to the Mistress. “I wonder why you keep something like that around.”

One corner of the Mistress’ lips curled upwards. She waved at Commander with a single word, “Leave.” The large swordsman spluttered, his blade wavering as he comprehended that he was being dismissed. He might have tried to argue the point but the Mistress’ eyes sharpened, her expression shifting lightly towards anger. Noticing it, Commander clenched his teeth, sheathed his great sword and giving a stiff bow left.

The lady then leaned back against her cushioned chair. She crossed her arms, smiling at Iago. “Would you tell us more about yourself? You seem to have a clear advantage over us with your knowledge.”

“It would be a pleasure,” Iago answered. There was no hesitation as he continued. “I’m from Vhiriktika, a high merchant’s son.

“High merchant?” the lady asked with interest. “Have you come to learn from our academies?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “But after coming I was too busy making my fortune to pay much attention to my lectures. I have to admit to learning little.”

Mistress laughed, the sound coursing through Alec’s ears. He could have listened to it forever. Especially while looking at the lady.

“Is that why you hid?”

Iago shrugged. “I did not think I was worthy to be in your presence, my lady. The rumours about your beauty and temper are legendary. I deemed it better to stay in my place.”

“Is that so?” Mistress asked reaching for a crystallized pink sweet. She popped it into her mouth before continuing. “Or is it part of the making your fortune part? I remember hearing a word or two about you and they were very incessant on one thing.”

“What would that be? A paragon of humanity?” Iago asked in a slow tone, a smile obvious in his voice. It was like he knew what the lady was hinting at but wanted her to say it.

Licking her fingers, she gave him a languid look. “A paragon indeed, selling a beggar’s tears for the price of diamonds.”

Alec’s eyes flashed to Iago. Was this true? Was Iago a cruel merchant prior to the destruction? Cruelty wasn’t obvious in his actions in the camp but he had lied for certain. No commoner would be able to exchange words with the lady without her noticing anything amiss.

More so, his graceful demeanour, ease with which he partook in the dinner among nobles made it certain that this was not his first time around high born. His knowledge about the inner workings of the nobility only solidified that fact. He must have spent plenty of time among them. Otherwise it would be close to impossible to recognise them while also knowing their history.

And those words about Commander. He still wondered what Iago had meant calling him a stain on his family’s name, and the whole empire too. Could Commander not be an example of a true soldier? His heart wished for such an outcome but he did not put much faith in it. Disappointment of his dream slowly dying was too fresh and still bleeding.

“Shea,” Iago said. Alec’s head snapped up, listening back into the conversation.

“Oh yes, that was her name. Are you planning to keep her?”

“Her talent is decent.”

The lady’s face scrunched in dismay. “She’s a commoner.”

“I would take her in normal circumstances, while now she’s even more valuable. There’s so few of the talented ones left. It would be a loss to let even one go.”

“What a merchant’s view,” the lady chuckled. She brushed a stray hair behind her ear as her warm gaze stayed on Iago. Alec was disturbed to note the change in her expression. “You’re going turn her into a breeding cow.”

Iago didn’t express his anger like Alec thought he should. Instead there was indifference in his voice. “Will you blame me?”

“Not at all! I admire your quick thinking! You’ve cultivated the relationship from the very beginning, getting on her good side. Pitiful child, she knows not what is coming.” Her laughter held a note of malice this time. “Is the fate of those commoners you’ve been caring for the same?”

“Bodies are going to be the most sought commodity for many years to come,” Iago answered with a shrug. He took a glass of wine he’d not touched before and took a long sip. “As old and treasured as this wine is, it is no longer worth anything. The only thing worth buying and selling is manpower.”

The horror that surged through Alec left him weak in the knees. Sell and buy? Manpower? He could not believe his ears. Did Iago just call them produce at his disposal? The thing that will make him the richest person alive?

His hand moved towards the blade at his side. Its steel pommel cooled his fingers as he judged his chances of killing Iago before dying himself. The betrayal had to be answered. But if he died and did not kill him, what then? Everyone would remain clueless about what awaited them.

“Your pet does not look happy,” the lady noted with a smirk.

Iago didn’t spare a glance back. “Don’t bother. You won’t succeed.”

Mistress laughed at that. Iago looked at her to see her hand once more resting on her chest. Was it what, fifth, sixth time? He was getting tired of that obvious attempt to attract his attention to her physical attributes. Did she think he was blind? Or was that supposed to turn him into a brainless follower of hers? He felt like he was being underestimated a bit too much. She must not think him capable of any thought besides getting in her bed.

Filthy wench. Not everyone shared her insufferable appetites.

She was laughing again. He wasn’t even certain about what this time. All this smiling, chuckling and flashing eyes were growing tiresome. His face muscles pained him from the unusual exercise and he’d lost his fear of her after the first half an hour. Not once had she showed a sign of noticing anything wrong.

Too lax. Believing what was in the open. Had she always been this thoughtless?

He could not remember. Previously he never paid much attention once they went their separate ways. But there was little change from his memories. The same old pride, vanity and dismissal of those below her. Throughout the dinner, the two of them were the only ones speaking. Other nobles were but an audience to their exchanges. They knew better than to attempt voicing an opinion.

“Will you move-in to the mansion?” Cyana asked him with a knowing look. She bent forward to allow a better look at the top of her chest and reached to put a hand on his. “I swear to take good care of you.” Her voice was sultry and thick with an unvoiced promise.

It took all his willpower not to spit in her face. Or laugh uproariously. That could have worked too. If she only knew…

A shadow of a smile touched his lips. “It is a most generous offer,” he started, putting his other hand over hers, “but I do not dare accept. I need to take care of my crop or it’ll rot and all go to waste.”

Her face twisted with anger and she drew her hand back in a flourish. “Born a merchant, always a merchant,” she scoffed with a haughty laugh.

Poor Cyana. Jaded by a lowly merchantman. Do hide behind your walls of pride and derision.

He nodded in acceptance of her jeer. “As you say, my lady. I can only fault my upbringing.”

“Shall I expect to see you again?” Her expression turned ugly for a second. “Or will you be too busy?”

“I wouldn’t dare. It would be an honour to be invited to dine with you again.”

Her eyes did not soften at his utterance but her body relaxed a notch. “Fine. You are dismissed now.”

Iago stood up, bowing to hide his smile. “Thank you for the brilliant evening.” Straightening, he waved for Alec to fall in step with him. The man was stiff, stone faced with resentment simmering in the depths of his eyes. A case to be solved once they left.

When he was ten steps away, Cyana spoke up again. “I’ve sent scouts to go searching for other settlements, they’re not to return until they find someone. So next time, there might be other guests besides you.”

“I will be looking forward to it,” he answered in an amiable tone. Her eyes narrowed but she did not say anything else. No servant showed up to lead them out and Iago had to recall himself the path they’ve used to reach the hall. A few false turns later he finally led them to the front gate and out.

Only then did he allow himself a good, deep laugh. Oh, Cyana, Cyana. How petty of you. He chuckled once more. Have there ever been anyone who refused her? He doubted it. With her legendary talent, beauty and father being the unofficial head of the empire, how could anyone? Death and ruination alone waited on that path.

When they were more than three streets away from the mansion, he glanced at Alec walking behind him. “Do you remember what I told you before we entered?”

The eyes that rose to glare at him held no recollection. Iago sighed. “I told you not to believe all that you hear.”

“Oh really?” Alec asked in a grave voice, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You just said that we’re goods for sale! Why should I care! It’s nothing, right?” His voice rose with each word as he forcefully held himself in check.

Iago could see his wish to step forward, grab him by the lapels and shout at his face. Strike him. But he was a shaper and the youth did not dare. Instead he screamed his bitterness.

“You as good as sold us to her! Without your words, she would have continued not paying attention, but now it’s all over! In a day or two inspections will begin and if she finds others, we’ll be sold in a heartbeat! Or forced to work for her every waking hour! If only so she can show off! You killed us all!” He trembled as he finished.

So clueless, Iago sighed this time inwardly. Alec missed all the underlying currents during the meeting. It was no fault of his own, but a hassle none the less.

“What do you think I should have told her then?” he asked, turning to face the youth head on. “Tell me, how would you have answered her in my place? What would you have said to convince her that I had to stay and help you out when it’s miles below me?”

That broke Alec’s anger for a moment. He froze, uncertain.

Before inspiration struck him, Iago continued. “I had to have a reason. Why else would I have chosen a merchant’s persona? It is low enough to make it almost inconsequential, only the title of being a High’s son makes it a bit more worthy in her eyes.”

Alec’s face showed no expression but he was listening. Good enough. “It was the only way to protect everyone. As long as I claim their protection, other nobles won’t dare interfering with a shaper while she won’t bother. In her eyes, I’m insignificant. She can take everything from me when she feels like it. Then why should she trouble herself watching over the survivors. If there comes a need for them, she can just take them.”

“So, you’ll work as her caretaker?”

“Something of a like.”

“But she can order you to do anything. You have zero bargaining power, “ Alec noted in a dead voice.

Iago smiled. “And that’s where you’re wrong. I have plenty of power.” A disbelieving look prompted him to continue. “You see, I have choices while she does not.” He snickered. “I might be the only male shaper left alive. As pitiful as my talent is, it’s still much better than anyone else’s. From the way she acted today, she’s desperate to catch my interest. I’ll have plenty of freedom if I play it right.”

The soldier did not share his humour. “You’re not a commoner,” he stated.

This was a tougher question. Whatever he said would be a lie. “When I said I spent days watching the swordplay, did you think I aroused no interest? Many nobles were amused by my presence while a few went as far as to befriend me. Healer Kallum was a sought after persona. His penchant for treating everyone equally annoyed the high born to no end but they could not discredit his talent. As his student, I was invited often enough to various balls and dinners.

“It did not mean I was seated highly or got to talk to many nobles but an invitation was already a sign of great goodwill. Kallum told me to use it to understand the high born better: their manners, way of speech and actions. It’s really simple if you actually spend time working it out.”

Alec’s face was incredulous. “And you want me to believe it?”

“Why not? Is it so hard to believe even a low born shaper will be treated with a certain level of respect?”

Understanding lighted Alec’s face, followed by a tired reluctant acceptance. He must have forgotten who he was talking to for a moment. Noble or not, shapers quickly rose through the social ladder if they learnt any control over their powers. It wasn’t a far stretch to believe that one could be born a commoner but know everything about the nobles and their lifestyle.

Iago considered asking whether the soldier believed him but thought better of it. This was too soon. The trust in him was a small, barely existent thing. It often wavered on the verge of extinguishing. Time will be needed to grow it.

He turned and chose the direction towards his tower. There was still plenty of road left until reaching it, and the sun was setting. No more than an hour before it was gone. He wondered how Scorpius was doing with his task.

The person in question was having a headache of a lifetime. After a day of arguments and furious shouting named discussions, Scavengers had moved out of their safe haven. Hunger was the greatest motivator in that regard. Hunger and thirst.

At first, they wanted to hear nothing about moving but when the time to eat came and they received a few drops of water and a bite of meat, their minds quickly changed.

Scorpius was sitting a distance away at the time. A young woman with a large group of children set out towards him. She wasn’t a beauty in any form of word but the strength in her features could be envied. She held one young boy on her left arm, while holding a four year old’ hand. Another older girl, maybe seven was walking behind, holding onto the woman’s skirt. Two identical boys were walking at the front, their eyes fierce as they held stones in their hands, ready to fight Scorpius if he did anything. The twins were around twelve, or more. It was hard to say from their lean, hunger thinned bodies.

It was a shock for Scorpius to see such a huge family to have survived the destruction. All the children shared a set of small sharp green eyes and fire bright hair. Only the twins’ heads were more dark auburn but there could be no doubt they possessed the same parents.

The young woman - was she even seventeen? - stopped before him. He did not say anything, not certain what she wanted and so they stared at each other.

One of the twins was the first to lose his patience. “Is it true that there’s food there?” His voice started strong but by the end it became close to a plea. His young face shone with an undisguised hope as he clutched the stone in his hand.

“Yes,” he answered with a nod, not rising from his sitting position. “A shaper comes every day to make fresh food. There’s no hunger in that place.”

“And why did you not stay there?” the woman asked, her voice raspy as she fell into a coughing fit.

Scorpius reached for his small water skin at his belt and passed it to the woman. “When was the last time you drank yourself?” he asked. He was certain she was giving all her portions to the children. They were surprisingly healthy compared to her.

She did not refuse his gesture. After taking a couple gulps, she passed the water to the children who drank it in large gulps, not caring that it was going to quickly run out. Not a drop was left afterwards. Scorpius shook his head at their greediness, taking back the skin, but did not say anything. In this kind of environment, the weak had to take every chance they could at strength. Being mannered served no one.

“Answer me,” the woman said again, her voice a touch gentler this time.

“I did not dare,” Scorpius answered. Saying he was afraid of the camp felt like the best choice in this case. “They’re a large settled group and I did not dare to face them alone. Power in numbers as they say.”

The woman’s eyes sharpened on him again. It was like she was trying to dig out all his secrets with that stare. Uncomfortable. “And you thought we were an easier target?”

“I wouldn’t have approached you either, but I knew the big man. Not by name but sight. We’ve talked once. So, decided to take a chance.”

She did not like his answer, he was certain of it. However, before she could say anything more, the smallest girl, one she was holding the hand of, tugged at it. “Hungry…” she murmured in a soft gentle voice. “Let’s go where food is…”

In an instant the other children were all on her side. The young woman was soon barraged with excited exclamations. They all wanted to go.

What surprised Scorpius most was that they did not complain. Neither then, nor through the whole trek towards the ruined city. They were like adults put into small bodies. Even the youngest, so weak he could not walk himself, did not act his age. He was sitting in the woman’s arms, staring at the world but not uttering a sound.

A weird company. Nothing else to say.

Scorpius wasn’t certain what Iago could make of them but he did his part. If more people would help the shaper’s cause then so be it. He was certain nothing bad would happen to them. Iago was not cruel. Nor could he push them to fight or anything. Most of this batch of survivors were women and children with few men remaining after the slaughter at the city.

The city’s walls were a welcome sight as their collapsed glory peeked in the distance. Unconsciously everyone’s tired pace quickened. Sun was setting and they wanted to reach the city before nightfall. The desert was a harsh mistress at night.

They were noticed quickly upon entering through the gates and an alarm was raised. Survivors rushed from all directions, makeshift weapons in their hands. Table legs, large stones, blades and maces, there was something for everyone’s tastes.

The bearded man surrounded their group in a protective circle with his men but did not draw his weapon. Glancing at Scorpius for a second, he called out to the survivors saying he wanted to talk. Mala stepped out with two elders. Behind them Jistas and Evic stood with their muscles bulging.

Talking did not take long. The elders that Scorpius had seen only a few times were adamant in not letting anyone in. They did not believe them to be just a passing group of survivors and did not want them to stay here for the night, not even considering settling. In their eyes, the newcomers were a danger this place did not need.

This was not going as planned. Scorpius wanted to jump forward and shout out that this was Iago’s will, they had no authority to refuse. But they did not know him. He lived in the city as a shadow, only one person knowing of his existence. Why should his word matter then? He was just another of the damned newcomers.

His eyes moved to Mala. She was usually the most level-headed, and kind. But this time he could see nothing of that. There wasn’t open animosity in her face like in those of the elders, but no caring either. Pragmatism. That’s what he saw there.

She knew that Iago could shape but it took a lot of energy from him. Soon the consumption would be even more when the rotten food was used up and he had to shape sand. A large amount of people would be detrimental at the time. It was better to have as few people as they could.

Just as he though that, Scorpius was horrified. Why did he not think of it before? Only now when considering Mala’s cold demeanour did the thought strike him. What was Iago thinking? He was endangering himself! Again! Adding Scavengers to the mix would increase the load on him by a large margin.

And Scorpius was well-aware how few old food resources were left. It wouldn’t be more than a couple more days before they ran out. Then it would take all Iago had every morning just to shape enough food. And if there was this much people added…

He scanned the Scavengers. Fifteen bodies. A third of them growing children. This was madness! His exultation over accomplishing his task quickly turned into fear and worry. Was what he did really right? It did not feel like it. It felt like he was leading Iago to his untimely death by following his orders. The shaper seemed so steady and smart but this decision, it did not sound right. This was the same as drinking poison of your own choice!

What considerable advantage could these people bring that it would be worth sacrificing so much?

Another look over provided him no new knowledge. These were people like any other. A couple fighters, a couple people from the working class and women with children. What was so special about them?

“Leave! This is the last warning!” one of the elders bellowed. He pointed at the soldiers standing to the side. “Or we’ll make you! Soldiers forward!”

The grand announcement amused Scorpius as a ragtag group of people stepped forward. Grey still hadn’t healed so he wasn’t present. Alec probably too, while Denni was missing for an unknown reason. That left Lyra with four others, the youngest of the lot. They were dressed in oversized armour and staggered forward on unsteady steps, the sword in Quir’s hand wavering. It was too heavy for the twelve year old.

What a grand army. They couldn’t force away the weakest of the bearded man’s band, not thinking about the rest. Did the elder really think to scare them with such a show of force? Or did he want just for once in his life to give such an order? That sounded the more likely of the two choices.

Still, it did not mean well. Where was Iago? Why wasn’t he showing up to save this?

Scorpius noted the tensed bodies of the Scavengers, fear in the eyes of survivors as they tightened their grips on the weapons. This was soon going to turn into a stupid melee. He could not have it. Maybe, even if he was unknown, he could stall this long enough? Doubtful, he stepped through the Scavengers and past the bearded man.

Everyone’s eyes moved to him. Uncomfortable… As he was about to open his mouth, a voice called from far ahead. The gazes quickly shifted there and Scorpius was the first to make out the forms rushing forward.

Iago was at the front, not rushing but walking in large strides. He was dressed in a white tunic and a billowing dark blue surcoat. Behind him Alec walked in a matching blue tunic and black leather tabard, a thin blade at his side. The two of them looked like a pair of master and bodyguard moving through some ancient hold so often depicted in paintings. Never having visited any larger cities, Scorpius had no experience whether it was true, but that was how he always imagined the royals and their court to look like.

Regal, strong in presence but not overdone. A silent power.

Next to Alec, Denni was rushing, red faced. Her breath came in gasps as she followed. Now Scorpius understood where she disappeared. The smart girl went and found the two people that were in truth the only ones deserving to decide the future of newcomers. Elders had long lost their power after the coming of Iago.

As the pair and their messenger reached the stand-off, Iago moved towards Scorpius but then faltered in his step. His eyes moved past the nosferatu and through the crowd of Scavengers, landing on something that stole all the colour from his face.

A youthful voice screamed out, ringing in the silence.

“Brother!”