Jorish walked behind Traves, enjoying the quiet of the night. It had been a long month, memories of the events in the capital rang in his head regardless of what he did. It didn’t take a genius to know that change was coming, yet to better or worse was yet to be decided.

The situation in most cities close by had been chaotic, their first visit to a nearby city almost got them involved in what amounted to a small civil war. Traves thus decided to just camp outside for the next few weeks until things calm down. They had no way of knowing the exact situation of the cities as they were, yet Traves seemed to be awfully confident in how fast the resolution of things would be. Jorish didn’t know if it was because he trusted Traves completely to not question him, or if he was too tired to even care. He suspected it was the latter.

Jorish glanced behind him, noticing Cail and Anise chatting. He was too far to really know what they were talking about, and it would be too impolite to eavesdrop. He kept walking, speeding up to catch up with Traves.

“Ah Jorish. How have you been holding up?” said Traves, pointing to Jorish’s bandaged arm, or whatever remained of it at least.

Thanks to the medicine Traves had given him, Jorish could barely feel the pain from his arm. Yet, it haunted him. As prepared to ask again, not expecting much. Traves was not a person who spoke unless he felt like it. At least not saying something useful until he wants to.

“It doesn’t hurt much. But…” Jorish prepared to ask as he got interrupted.

“I know how it feels, Jorish. I will answer you, because it is time.”

Jorish paused, looking at Traves. His gaze carried many emotions, curiosity, and hope.

“See, young friend, medicines that would even return a lost limb exist. They are however very… hard to get.” Traves said slowly as the look in Jorish eyes got uglier, before Traves smiled as he continued. “Yet, you had found a bit of fortune in your calamity. You did not lose a limb. Yes your arm might have the same inside consistency as a broken sandbag… But it is still there!”

Jorish stood, motionless as he waited for Traves to continue.

“There is one method that just happens to be perfect for you, Jorish. To advance, become a practitioner, and rebuild your body.”

Traves continued. “Not every ‘body’ is suitable for your situation. I could think of three options for you.”

“The first option is simply called the ‘sand body’. It's fairly simple, it is a simpler version of the body that the Sovereign uses. However, instead of having complete control, storage, and generation of sand energy, it transforms most of your body into sand. The rebuilding process would help rebuild your limbs. And with that body, you can regrow your limbs if you lose them. Plus, it is a fairly painless process!”

Jorish’s eyes lit up. “That is such an amazing body. But… your mentioned three options. Which means there is something wrong with this one?”

“Observant aren’t you! Well, calling it something wrong would be inaccurate. While that body has great defensive abilities, alongside the general boosts a body would provide you, it just pales compared to stronger bodies. It doesn’t really provide you much else, if you get me.”

“Then… What are the other options?”

“The second option is the ‘Troll’s body’. Despite its simple name, it is one of the most fearsome bodies around. Users of the Troll’s body have insane regeneration. Even some near lethal strikes could be shrugged off in seconds and the boost it provides to the physique is very significant, providing insane strength and reaction. The process to obtain can be a bit gruesome, as troll blood is injected and slowly integrated into the body. It is very painful, yet the result speaks for itself!”

Jorish gulped. That sounded perfect, too perfect… He waited for Traves to speak, yet Traves remained silent. Forcing Jorish to speak.

“Then, what about the last option?”

Traves smiled a deep smile that sent shivers down to Jorish’s body as he spoke. “Well, dear Jorish. The last option, what may I call it… Yes, I shall simply call it the ‘Sun-forged body’! ”

Jorish felt his breath stuck in his throat as he asked. “And… what does that body do?”

“I… don’t know for sure! It's an experiment, an idea mind you. Yet it would be accurate to call it my life’s work! Yet I can promise you one thing only, either you would be strong, really strong. Or you would die, very painfully! You feeling lucky lad?”

Jorish stopped as he tried to understand what Traves had just said. “Then… what would you recommend?”

“Ah, young Jorish, what a silly question! Of course I left you the best for last. But it is your choice, I will respect and help you with your choice.”

Jorish felt conflicted. He trusted Traves, yet even he wasn’t really sure. As his thoughts got more and more conflicted, he asked the question that was on his mind.

“Then… How do you achieve the Sun-forged body?”

“Oh, glad you asked! It is really simple.”

“We will just have to set you on fire, Jorish!”

- - - - -

A few months had passed since the incident in Zeltol, the incident that got the governor killed. It had almost been a typical day, another burning in the tower center, the same usual routine. One day, everything changed. Some foreigners appeared in the city, interrupting the burning and murdering the governor. The city was sent to chaos for a few weeks as they awaited further instructions from the Capital.

Yet, nothing came. Within a few weeks, the city resumed its normal operations. Life however, was not so kind to leave them in peace. News talked about a huge incident in the capital, sending fear and chaos back into the city. Without the governor, there was none who could use the eye of Zeltol. The guards remained, miraculously unharmed after the first incident, yet they didn’t have a single practitioner, let alone a candidate. If an attack happened at that point… They would not be able to fight back.

Stressed guards went on patrols around the city regularly, hoping that the moment of time they could gain would be the key to save them, if push came to shove. As one of the patrols walked near the gates, one of them exclaimed.

“I see something!”

Immediately, guards gathered as one of them held a tube to his eye. A moment later, that guard froze, speechless.

“Hey, show me!” Another pushed from the back, grabbing the tube from his hands.

He pressed his eye to the opening in the tube. His heart shook as he witnessed a scene he would never forget in his life.

Everyone knew the sun in the south was cruel, deadly even. Yet this…

A man stumbled on the horizon, not wearing much for clothing. His brown skin contrasted by golden marks that broke through to every part of his body. He stumbled, as he burned, literally. The guard could see sunlight concentrating and storming him, burning him even further. Yet, that man just kept stumbling, almost not caring.

The guard could almost recognize that man, is it even possible that he? No, that is not possible! The guard shook his head, removing the insane thought from his head. Suddenly, he could see the lips of the man move, the guard tried to trace the words that the man had said.

‘More’? More what? He wondered.

The guard didn’t have too long to wonder as a loud whistle brought everyone present to a panic. Everyone turned, faces white and hopeless. Behind them stood the eye of Zeltol. Once, its activation as light whistled and gathered to its core was a sign of power, a sign that they were going to be victorious.

But there wasn’t anyone who could control that eye in the city!

As the eye gathered energy, the guard fell to his knees, motionless. He was powerless, they were at the mercy of whatever caused the eye to activate. If the eye started firing at the city… It wouldn’t be long until Zeltol would be finished.

A minute later, the eye fired. The guard felt all energy of tension escape his body as the beam of light escaped outside the city. Then, his eyes widened as he noticed the path of the beam. Isn’t that towards that man? The guard felt a deep feeling inside him, a feeling that told him to forget about it. Some things were better off not known. He tried to convince himself, yet his curiosity took over. He lifted the tube once more.

He could see another man holding some weird object, as the light gathered above him, freezing. Moments later, some of that light started to descend down on the burning man. As seconds went by, more and more light collapsed upon the man, until the light was too bright for him to see nothing.

The guard fell on his knees, shaking as he thought.

Sun protect us, a monster treads upon our sands.

- - - - -

Jorish burned yet again. He felt it was ironic, his journey started in flames, and here was again in flames. Yet, things were not the same. Jorish stumbled forward, teeth cluttering as the pain rose higher and higher. He felt not only his body, but his very soul burn as he stood in the sun. Traves wasn’t kidding huh. Snickered Jorish at his own misfortune.

Jorish glanced down at his body, at the weird substance he had on his skin. The traveler had applied many different things to his body, and got him to eat and drink some other things. Jorish didn’t know what they were, but if he had to bet, he would say with certainty that they were the cause of his dilemma.

Yet, pain unbearable, Jorish grunted. He muttered, trying to stay conscious.

“More.”

Traves had told him, it was not a tried method. But he knew, the longer he persisted, the closer he got to death… The stronger it will all be. One cannot forge steel without hammering it. Jorish could not take the sensation of body and soul burning, yet that didn’t matter. Strength… has a price!

Cail stood behind him, holding one of his artifacts. He moved his hand behind the artifact as sunlight got even stronger. Jorish almost let out a shout as he kept moving, his motion the only thing keeping him sane and conscious. His body, his soul begged him to lose consciousness, to fall. He knew he might have done enough. He knew that the moment he stopped, his suffering would end. And Traves would help stop it all. He did enough to become a practitioner. His arm will be fine, and so he should just stop.

“More!”

Cail stood, silent, his eyes turning blue. Minutes later, a beam, ever so familiar, shone above him. The eye of Zeltol. He knew he would never forget that time. He would never forget when he was at his weakest, yet at his strongest.

Just the presence of the beam increased the pain and pressure on Jorish. He could feel something different, no longer was it simply the pain of burning. He felt his very bones melt inside his body, burning him inside and out. His teeth cluttered ever harder, blood leaking from his lips and eyes, boiling. The golden marks on his body branding him. I can’t take this anymore, how am I…

Jorish interrupted his thoughts, shouting.

“More!!”

The beam of energy froze in the air, slowly descending, increasing bit by bit. Finally, reaching his wit’s end. Jorish stomped the ground, as he shouted with every last bit of energy remaining in him.

“MORE!”

The whole energy of that eye, the eye which terrified man and beast alike descended. It crashed towards the grounds in a majestic explosion. The world turned white as light, sand and dust covered everything.

And then, it was over.

- - - - -

Minutes later, the sand settled as a silhouette emerged, motionless. It looked like a mass of coal and ash given shape. Silence persisted for a few seconds until the sound of a crack was heard. Cracks appeared all around the silhouette, until moments later it fell into black pieces around it.

From the cocoon of coal and ash, he emerged. Skin, brown with imposing gold lines cutting through his body. Muscles pronounced, holding endless power. He stood, flawless.

Footsteps approached him, as Traves spoke. “How do you feel, Jorish?”

Jorish opened his eyes, clenching his once injured hand. He felt power coarse through his entire body, the light of the sun that once burned him felt like a blessing. He felt the sunlight giving him more power, as he stood. He didn’t speak, as he merely nodded.

Traves turned serious as he said. “Once you were Jorish, and you may remain so. Yet, today I bless you with your new name, for you were reborn. You are finally a warrior, Son of the Sun.”

Moments later they were joined by Anise and Cail, as Traves turned to both Anise and Jorish. “Now, I give you a choice. You are both now strong, not many things in the cities are a danger to you. You could return to any of the smaller cities, live as kings, and Maketh wouldn’t bother you. In fact he would even train you if you so requested. You would live great lives, without pain and suffering.”

“Or you would join me. To suffer, to fight, and to reach the peak of power.”

Traves turned to Anise first, who spoke. “I have nothing left for me here. I will journey with you, hoping to meet my ancestor, Malik… and to find answers to the questions that plagued me. I shall go with you.”

Traves then turned to Jorish, who stood silent. Simultaneously, Traves’ and Jorish’s faces turned from stillness into smirks, smirks to beams, then finally into laughter. They both understood, there was no need for words anymore. Not since the day Jorish left that city, left his home.

Jorish stepped forward, glancing at what was once his home. I will return one day, when I am truly strong! He thought as he shook his head, before turning to Traves, smirking.

“So, Traveler. Where are we heading next? Thrown your die yet?”

“No, no die this time in fact.”

“Jorish, Son of the Sun... I think it's about time for us to head out.”

“And get you a spear.”