“Is this your new servant I heard so much about?”

Iago answered with a nod. “I thought it’d do him good to see how a real house is taken care of.”

“You find him lacking?” the Mistress asked with a raised eyebrow, leaning over the table towards Iago.

“Better than nothing. Well, decent I suppose,” he answered after a lazy glance back at Scorpius standing next to Alec. “He knows his teachings well enough.”

“Teachings?”

“He was trained to serve the male side of the merchant families.”

The Mistress’ lips puckered in distaste. “Male?”

“What self-respecting woman would want a man serving her?” Iago asked with a laugh. It had been awhile since Scorpius’ heard it, but he knew that joyous sound for another lie. Iago wouldn’t tell a single truth to the lady on pain of death. “If she wants a man without marriage, then buy a consort. There are men specifically trained for that. Why bother with pretences?”

“So, you mean your servant is not good enough for that?”

“Why should he be? He’s been in training and not the correct one for that,” he said in a dismissing voice. The topic seemed to be boring him.

Scorpius on the other hand wasn’t certain how to feel about being discussed like this. It wasn’t very complimentary. When Iago had asked him to come along, he hadn’t thought it would be to listen to this. Alec on the side sent him a pitying look too. Neither of them dared to speak.

“You have a very interesting culture in your country,” the Mistress chuckled.

“Interesting? Efficient more like. Unlike in your country, we know that the only difference between them and us is that we have money, and from that perceived power. So, we have a specific taskforce following the youths to determine their characters and then separate them to schools with suitable jobs for each.”

“What about those that fit nowhere?”

Standing on the side, Scorpius could see a cruel smile blossoming on Iago’s face. “Nowhere? There’s always space in the mines.” He laughed, the sound hollow and cold. “If you want to find the smartest and shrewdest people of Vhiriktika, visit the mines. They’re all there with bent backs, bleeding fingers and dusty lungs.”

“Vhiriktika must have been a gem of a country,” the lady mused.

Iago answered and they fell into another discussion of the nobles and their authorities. This was one conversation where the Mistress felt at ease and could share her own knowledge. Otherwise it was severely lacking. Scorpius could not believe anyone could be this ignorant. She knew close to nothing about her own country, not even talking about others like the one Iago pretended to be from.

Vhiriktika… It was a horror of a country. Scorpius had visited it for a time in his journeys. One time too many. Even his mostly indifferent heart could not take the abuse showered upon the common people there.

They were no better than slaves. All children at the age of ten were forced to pass an exam and then scattered throughout the schools in the country based on the results. The shy, meek and lacking confidence went to servant positions, greedy became small time managers and head servants. Cruel ones were assigned to guards’ school. Scholarly went to become scribes, though, they were deeply checked not to have a sense of shrewdness.

Anyone too smart for their own good were sent to the mines. It was the largest product made within the borders and sought out by every other country. No one else had metals so pure. Because of this there were always a need for more miners. For a person to last there half a year was an unbelievable feat, after all.

He’d flown once over sucha mine. At the time Scorpius could not believe it was that bad. He was proved horribly wrong. Scraps for food, little to no light, continuous works, no sanitation. The tunnels were so hard to squeeze through, forcing the workers to crawl at times. Their bodies shifted and became disfigured after a longer period. If they survived.

Gem of a country? Maybe for her it could have been. The rich in Vhiriktika lived better than in any other place. And yet, unlike everywhere else, they had no time to enjoy it. An irony that. They were too busy fighting amongst themselves for richness and power to care about anything else. That was often what happened when a land was ruled by a council of the richest people. One with most capital standing at the highest top.

Two more hours passed before the conversation was over and the last bits of dried meat were eaten off the table. Iago led Scorpius and Alec out, not saying a word.

The further they went from the mansion, the darker Iago’s visage grew. By the time they reached where Iago had left his cloak, the shaper was openly scowling at the ground. He threw the cloak over his silver blue clothes and hid within its fold.

“Will you want to train this evening?” Scorpius asked turning towards Alec.

The soldier must have been deep in his thoughts for it took him a moment to hear the question. He looked at the setting sun, and shook his head. “I’ll take the others too. An early evening never hurt anyone.” As he said that, he gave a pointed look towards Iago.

Scorpius assented with a nod. It was for the better. “Are those dinners always like this?” He asked trying not to betray his disgust.

His answer was a long suffering look. Words this evening seemed to be lacking the emotional depth needing display.

Abandoning the effort, they relaxed back into the silence. Iago was still rushing forward at the front and soon they reached the tower.

At the front, Shea was standing with a determined expression. She pushed herself off the wall upon noticing them and opened her mouth to speak.

And Iago strode past her. He ignored the commotion in the ground floor where trainees turned to greet him and scaled the steps to his room. In an instant there wasn’t a flutter of his cloak left to remind of his passing.

“What was that about?” Malek asked letting his wooden sword’s point touch the ground.

“Nothing,” Alec answered waving his concern off. He turned towards everyone. “It’s late. Wrap it up.”

“Already? But I just started on this move!” Grey complained. His wooden stick was raised, held tight before his chest.

Alec wasn’t arguing. He motioned towards the doors and walked there. “It’s enough for today.” The old man Mark watched him with furrowed brows but dropped his weapon and followed after. Others grumbled at his actions but did as they were told. Only now Scorpius understood that they were waiting for him to disagree. They were all under Alec’s command but Mark was much older and so held a different kind of authority. He could argue the orders.

But the old soldier was smarter than the group of children surrounding him. He knew better than to resist the current rule. It wasn’t overbearing and his people were as well taken care of as was possible. He wasn’t going to act up and create problems for them, or himself.

Scorpius closed the doors behind them and went to cleaning up. His blanket was untouched in the corner but dust covered it from constant passing of people. He took it out outside to dust off and noticed that Shea was gone.

Strange. Usually she was much more persistent. Maybe something had happened?

He itched to just shift and fly off, find what others were whispering about but he suppressed the feeling. He was acting a human now. And they could not fly. Or shift into bats.

Sighing he returned to his room, arranged the bed and went upwards to check up on Iago. The shaper was sitting at the table, drawing out the plan of the mansion they had visited. Scorpius watched him add arrows with scribbled notes too small for him to make out. He doubted anyone could.

With a shake of his head he went to light up the fireplace. Soon lively flames danced within and he took a step back, enjoying his success.

Iago noticed the new light source, better than the dim glow from outside and moved to sit on the ground. All his papers went along with him and Scorpius was alarmed to see a dozen or more pages filled with diagrams, notes and building plans. Many of the paragraphs were crossed out, edited. A few were stained with ink. Unreadable.

“Do you need anything?” he asked without expecting a reply. When there was none, he added, “I’ll be off to get more paper, and look for books.”

Through the quickly darkening evening he went towards the ruins of the Royal Library. After close to a week of digging, a great number of cave ins and one close call, he had a good tunnel inside. He was almost certain it would not tumble on his head from a stray gust of wind.

Walking in, he made a clicking noise to listen for changes in the structure. To his relief there was none. Deeper, he heard the same sound like last time. There was an open space further in. He held his excitement while considering the best way to reach it.

Careful. He had to be very careful.

First he checked for any stones to be moved. Not this one. Too large. This too deep set in. Might cause the whole wall to cave in. Not this either, neither that one.

He was about to give up on this section when he touched upon a loose rock. It was near the bottom but not touching the ground, around his knee level. He touched around it to make sure the other stones were holding strong. None moved. They didn’t seem to be supported by this one.

Good. He took a steadying breath and carefully brought the loose stone out. Dropping it to the side he froze listening for changes. Silence. Could it be? He extended his hand to ascertain his thoughts. Yes, the wall was holding strong.

Next he made sure the hole was wide enough. Should be. Grinning to himself he shifted and made a few turns around the tunnel. Clicking. His noise recognition in his bat form was far better than in the human one. But there were no great changes. His original thoughts were on the right track.

Excited he swerved towards the hole and dived through, wings on the down swing close to his body. The walls brushed past and he was through.

“I’m in!” he shouted out, shifting back into a human. Dust choked down his voice. He coughed, and coughed. After a lengthy amount of time it finally went away. Red faced, breathing hard he glared at the surroundings. Too dark for him to see anything.

With a curse on his lips, he took out a candle he’d stacked in his backpack and after awhile lit it. The small flame flickered but did not extinguish. Scorpius raised it to have a look at his surroundings.

Bookcases lined the walls. They were made from thick wood and intersected at the top when falling, creating a bridge that held back the rubble. There were stones on the ground that had went through the gaps in the wood but they were inconsequential compared to the amount of books.

All of them had fallen off and littered the ground in piles. Scorpius noticed he was standing on them and jumped in fright. But there was nowhere to evade them. The whole ground was covered in scrolls, leather bound tomes and thin books held together by a string. Many had loosened and pages fluttered about when Scorpius moved.

He caught one and brought closer to the flame to read. Recount of some Lord Robert’s travels through the northern lands. He wasn’t fond of the constant freezing weather, white bears and constantly howling wolves. The occasional savages stealing his food and killing his guards did not improve his mood either.

A gleam of metal under a thick book caught Scorpius’ attention. He walked there as carefully as he could and squatted to free a gem encrusted iron box. There was a large dent on its top but the lock remained fastened securely.

He looked around, finding a safe perch to put the candle. After double checking to make sure it wouldn’t fall and cause a fire, he sat down with his back to a large stone. The box was light, and no wider than his palm. Each of its sides was encrusted with a diamond while on the top there was something written in a flowing unfamiliar script.

Gold dust? It must be. Who would use something like that to write on such an inauspicious box? Besides the half nail sized diamonds, there was nothing special about it. Scorpius shook it, hearing a soft sound from within. So, there was something inside. Something wrapped in cloth to keep it from rattling against the sides.

Interested, Scorpius twisted the lock and broke it. His hand ached from the force and the uncomfortable hold. The box’ front was ruined but he did not mind. It was open!

With care he praised the top open. And stared. He wasn’t certain what he was expecting but certainly not this. A green metal chain lay curled on an indentation of velvet. Was it jewelry? But who would wear such a ghastly thing?

The necklace - if that was what it was supposed to be - was made of linked rings. All were the same size, two finger width. Strangest of all, they were green. For some reason he was certain it wasn’t painted. But he’d never heard of a green metal.

He tested the chain, squeezing it slightly. No reaction. A bit more strength. Still nothing. Puzzled, Scorpius used all his power to squeeze the small links in his hand. Nothing. They didn’t bend in the slightest.

What sorcery was this?

As he thought that, Iago’s pendant came into mind. The shaper could use it to produce a cocoon of lethal wind. It would shape anything it came into contact with.

Scorpius had never seen, or imagined, something like that ever existing. He would have called a fool anyone that might have told him of it. The rules for shaping were very simple. They required no tools or aiding materials, all the power was contained within the shaper’s body.

He knew better now. Maybe this was one of those things? Doubtful he’d be lucky enough to find something like that. Still, he pocketed the chain. You never knew. He’ll show it to Iago and find out the truth tomorrow morning.

Now it was time for the books. There had to be something about his kind. It would be too terrible to have worked so hard and find nothing. He glanced over the hundreds of scattered books on the floor. No way. At least one of them had to contain what he sought.

The candle would last him for three hours. “Better start looking,” he told himself and picked the first book from beside him. The time limit would pass before he could be certain he checked everything around him.

It was past midnight when he returned to the tower. Fire was still crackling strong so he flew through the second story window. Landing in his human form, he saw Iago look up and then return to his papers. Or the only one remaining.

Scorpius looked around but all the others were gone. Shrugging it off, he sat down by the fire. “You should rest, morning isn’t far off.”

“I’m fine,” Iago ground out. He traced another line on the page, wrote a few words and cursed. “Damn it.” He scrunched the paper into a ball and threw into the flames. Noticing there were no more empty pages beside him, he leaned back. Rubbed his drooping eyes and yawned.

“You don’t look fine,” Scorpius told him in a neutral voice.

His friend answered with a brittle smile. “I’ll be fine then. Does that sound better?”

Scorpius watched the hunched figure before him, even now mostly hidden within the fold of the cloak and slowly nodded. He did not know how to express the worry permeating his heart. Every time he tried saying anything, Iago evaded the answer shifting the conversation in a way it could never be put back on track.

Did it mean there was something to worry about? His heart gave him a definite yes. But he couldn’t help a person that didn’t want to be helped. The shaper simply did not listen.

Besides, what if Iago turned from him too? Scorpius didn’t know if that could happen, but he did not discount the possibility. No one would have said Iago would turn from the survivors either. He was so adamant on being part of their community, helping out in any way he could.

The helping part was still there, but the shaper now became a distant figure to the survivors. They rarely saw him if ever, mainly hearing fragments of news from the soldiers training under him. These fragments quickly turned into rumours and after passing through two groups grew in scale and lack of believability.

Old events received similar treatment. Most of the survivors had seen him killing the Scavengers. But now the most popular tale was how he came down like a shooting star, power radiating off him in a yellow glow as he rushed to protect the survivors. Scavengers cowered at his approach, grabbing a child to use as a hostage. Their despicability so infuriated him, he burned them all to a crisp.

After, he went to the child and went on one knee, hugging the hurt soul. He spoke words of sorrow and apology. Children should not be faced with horrors like this. The child in turn cried in thankfulness. Unable to believe he was still alive.

It was a tale worth being written in any adventure book. Especially since there was so little truth contained within.

Once Scorpius tried to find out how did the tale shift so much and stumbled upon the unmovable rock of Mala. She glowered at him when he asked about it, saying he knew not what he was talking about. He wasn’t there during the event after all. How could he possibly know it didn’t happen as the tale told?

When he tried saying Iago had described him it differently, she sneered. “Of course he wouldn’t tell you about it! He’s no boaster! Tsk. You spend so much time around him but have learnt nothing. I wonder why he keeps such a dumb and useless personage as you by his side. It’s unworthy of him.”

Since then he did not bother trying to talk to her. One thing is to be biased and intolerant, xenophobic, and a whole another to insult him in his face. She did not care what he thought of it, nor that he might tell Iago about her actions. In her mind there was no way the shaper would listen to the unfamiliar newcomer.

Scorpius couldn’t grasp how she reasoned it out in her head. Iago singled him out to be by his side, said they were old friends and he trusted him with everything. They even lived in the same house to make the trust issue even more obvious. So how could she think Iago would not listen to him? That he thought of Scorpius as no more than an amusing idiot?

He shook his head. Impossible. Her mind must be working on a different plane than his.

“What’s troubling you?” Iago asked with a shadow of amusement in his voice. It was the most emotion Scorpius had heard from him in the last couple days. The lies at the Mistress’ not counting.

Telling on Mala came to the forefront of his mind but he dismissed the idea as soon as it came. It would be childish of him. She could think of him whatever she wanted. It was her problem. Not his.

“I found something in the rubble,” he said rummaging through his pockets. Where was that weird necklace he found among the books? Did he put it in his pants pocket? Apparently not. For some reason he’d put it in his vest.

Weird. Frowning he extended the green metal chain to Iago.

His friend hissed, recoiling in revulsion. Iago’s face twisted with nausea and he struggled to his feet to step even further back. “Put it away! Put it away!” he shouted out in a hoarse voice, waving his hands wildly in a defensive gesture.

Shocked, Scorpius watched the unexpected happenings before understanding dawned on him and he hid the necklace in his pocket. When it was out of sight, Iago sighed an audible sigh and folded down where he stood. His face a shade paler than before if that was possible.

“What is it?” Scorpius asked warily. Was it some kind of weapon? Poisonous? But he did not feel anything. It seemed like a simple weird necklace. That’s it.

Iago’s face, however, spoke volumes of his ignorance. “Where did you find it?” he asked once he calmed some. His voice still shook, though.

“The Royal Library. It was in a metal box with some strange writing on it.” He hesitated before adding. “I found it unusual among all the books and thought to show it to you. Did I make a mistake?”

“No, no,” Iago was quick to assure him. “I was just surprised. Did not expect to see it. Nor did I think its power was so oppressive,” he muttered under his breath after a heartbeat.

Those words only piqued Scorpius’ interest more. “What is it?” he asked.

“A shaper’s worst nightmare,” Iago answered in a grave voice. Then his eyes lit up, a genuine smile dawning on his lips as he continued to explain. The more he talked the more excited he became. “If put on bare skin, it seeps out all the Energy held within the body. More than that it cuts off the connection to the currents. In other words, putting it on a shaper, you turn him into a normal person. All their power is gone in an instant. The very instant you put the chains on.

“Scariest part? A shaper cannot take it off themselves. The metal seeps the Energy from them, and uses it to turn the chain incorporeal for them. Only another person can free them. And they need freeing. Desperately. If exposed too long to the jade metal, the ability to shape might go away altogether.”

Scorpius listened open mouthed. He only noticed it was open when Iago gave him a look. Closing it, he didn’t bother being embarrassed. Instead he tried to imagine a world where shapers had such a huge weakness. Impossible. No one would fear them then.

“You don’t need to look so disbelieving.” Iago laughed. “There’s only a few copies of this chain in the whole world. All of them have been collected by the shapers and hid. I’ve only read a passage mentioning them once. Never thought to see the real thing. “ He shook his head in wonder. A wistful smile on his lips. “Its power is astonishing. I could feel the currents deserting me the moment you took it out. I can only imagine what it would be like to have it touching my skin.” An involuntarily shudder passed through him.

“You’re certain its the right thing?” Scorpius asked wanting to take out the chain and have another look at it. He couldn’t remember anything special about it. Small rings linked into a chain of metal with a green sheen to it. A lock was at the end of the same material to secure the necklace around someone’s neck.

Shouldn’t old artefacts have runes engraved on them to give power? Or be made of something more outstanding? If he hadn’t found this chain in the Royal Library, he would have dismissed it as something to be used for pets. Although, even for them it might be too ugly.

“Absolutely.”