Our sparring session finished when I used the opportunity of a successful parry to hit Marcus across the chest, which would have meant a fatal blow in any other context, considering neither one of us had armour on. After he’d gone to bed, I continued to do laps around the yard until I could not longer move my body. I pushed myself to keep going even when my legs felt like they were going to fall off.

Collapsing in a heap, I lost consciousness while I saw myself burned alive by a being far beyond mortal powers. The worst part was that it felt as if it was mocking me. As if it had been through this already and was just in a hurry to never have to do it again.

My sleep was undisturbed, like something had watched over me throughout my dreamless night. I woke up just as my uncle strolled into my room to greet me good morning.

“I brought you up to your room last night. You fell asleep outside the barn. I appreciate you trying to keep healthy and fit, but you gotta know your limits.” He scratched his beard as he went to pick up a bucket. “It’s your turn to milk the cows today,” he said, passing it to me with a grin. “Get going.”

The morning sun beat down on my face as I made my way to the pen. It somehow seemed like I had lived these events before. Some sort of past life maybe? Yet that didn’t explain the visions, not really anyhow. The temple in the village was not too far off. Perhaps they might be able to answer some of my questions, though I was going to have to be careful not to accidentally commit blasphemy.

Past lives were not strictly heretical, but they were not avowed by the church. The main church teaching was that there was not a reincarnation cycle, and that humans only passed through this realm once. Hopefully if I had lived some kind of past life, my memories would keep coming back to me. I needed to know what mistakes I’d made in order to better prepare for what was to come.

I’d decided to take all precautionary measures and try to both defeat the Amrita, and find a way to have Marcus pass the test. The easiest way would probably have been to simply find a copy of the test before he’d actually take it, so he could learn the answers off by heart. The problem was that I wasn’t sure where his teacher had placed it. I had to find a way to either beg him not to fight the Amrita, or defeat it myself.

The Amrita was not an overall violent being. It was born of the earth, and fueled by the everlasting love of the mother goddess. However, if it was threatened in any way, it would call upon the powers given to it and lay waste to anything before its eyes. The reason it was called an immortal spirit was difficult to find out, as riffling through religious texts did not yield a definite answer.

One of the best ways to kill anything was through a spell formula. It took in the energies of the world and expelled them forcefully through a calculated blast. They were not too difficult to get a hold of; however they were very expensive. The little money my uncle gave me would have only been enough to purchase one, maybe two at most.

As I was deep in thought, I felt a fear wash over me. I turned as quickly as possible, milk being thrown everywhere. I couldn’t see anyone directly behind me, but I got up regardless. Looking around, I tried to find the source of my premonition. At the very end of the pen, there was a small note tied to a wooden fence that ran around the farm. I wouldn’t have noticed it coming in. Whoever had placed it there had done so deliberately.

I grabbed a rake off the floor and advanced carefully. Against a human opponent, the element of surprise could overcome even years of training. I tried and failed to remember if that had happened the last I was... alive. That was a weird way to phrase it. Whatever memories the One True God had given me did not actually make it seem like I was the one who had lived all those years. It was more like I had watched a vivid performance of someone else’s life.

Clearing my mind, I crouched as I made my way across the farmland to the side of the pen, my rake held steadily in my right hand. I checked behind me every couple of steps, to make sure I wasn’t being tracked. I could see my uncle plowing a field less than two hundred feet away, but I didn’t want to put his life in danger. In any case, calling for help may have been the optimal choice, but curiosity got the better of me. The note might have had something to do with the forty years I could somehow remember. Perhaps—

Something slammed into me from the side. I rolled away, tumbling past a pile of leaves. My body still hurt from the night before. I had to think quickly. I grabbed some dirt from my side and threw it in front of me. Raising my hands up to protect my chin, I tried to take up a stance.

“Wait, it’s me!” The figure in front of me waved his hands madly, trying to deter me from throwing a punch.

“Ricardo?” I asked, bewildered. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“Oh,” he said, cracking a smile. “This?” He pointed to his oversized suit, a combination of red and brown that could scare the death from a ghost. “The circus is in town for the harvest festival. Aren’t you going?” He looked comical dressed the way he was, but Ricardo was probably the most popular kid in the whole village. He just knew how to butter people up.

“Um, I really don’t know. I don’t have anyone to go with, not really anyway. Do you know if Maria’s going with anyone?”

“Huh, no I don’t she is,” he said, giving me a wink. “We were gonna go as a group. If you don’t have any other plans, you can come with us. I don’t mind, and I doubt anyone else will either.” He really was a nice kid, I thought.

“I just have to ask my uncle, but he’ll probably say yes.” He gave me a thumbs-up.

“All right then,” he said. “That’s settled. See ya around!” He exclaimed, running off to who-knows-where.

“Hey, wait!” I cried, but he had already gone more than fifty paces.

I sighed wearily, and looked around the field. That moment, when I had been shoved... I assumed it had to have been Ricardo, but it felt too alien to be a friendly shove, and he acted as if he’d just then seen me.

I pondered for a second. When had I ever been trained to take a combat stance? To protect my face or chin? For that matter, why did the idea of going to the festival send a tingle of chills up my spine?