“The young Ashfern tree was cut down. He watched. They sawed it. Cut it to pieces. They made chairs. They made tables. They made houses. They made toys. Soon, the large, the wide, the straight, Ashfern tree, was gone. He had gotten the answer. He turned to the Wisest Rasts and spoke.”

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“The Council Of Sortilege. The strongest shamans gathered. They formed the treaty. The smartest shaman was given command of the militia. The strongest was ordered to train them. The most articulate was to open diplomatic relations with the enemy, to make him surrender. Each shaman was given a role they should fill in times of crisis.”

“Other than that, it’s very much like how a normal army would work. The treaty has been invoked three times since its creation.”

Something bugged Edward. “What would you know about how a normal army should work?” That didn’t make sense. Why would it? If he understood it correctly, then the entire continent was a collection of scattered villages and small cities. Why would they know about modern warfare?

“Ah, well, that’s easy. What we know comes from the emperor. In his war against the Rasts. How they fought, their tactics, training, and so on. What’s more interesting is why you’d question that specifically.”

Edward shrugged. “I’m smart. Why can’t I question inconsistencies?” The shaman had no grounds for any accusation. He was just trying to unnerve him.

“Back to the point. What shall I do when they come knocking?” The shaman smiled.

“Oh, that’s easy. If the militia is composed of barely trained villagers, you just deny ever seeing me. Sure, the children and teenagers might speak. But as long as all the adults deny it, they have no ground to stand on. After all, they’d be pointing their rifles at their own people. The soldiers’ loyalty is with the people, not to their commanders.” Edward quickly pointed out how hard it would be for anything to actually happen to them.

“If I’ll be sitting here for 2 days, at least give me something to do, or learn. I need to know what I’m up against.”

“Young people are always so impatient. They never want to talk with their elders, who in reality have no reason to listen to their requests. For example, why should I believe you are Edward? You look like him, sure. But you have neither his memories nor temperament. All you remember about your brother is something you could’ve learned from simply asking around.”

“You might as well be a stranger lying in that bed. You can’t give me a single logical reason why I shouldn’t keep you here indefinitely.” Despite his ominous word, the shaman was as relaxed as he could be.

Tap Tap Tap Tap

“You’re absolutely right. I don’t. All you have is my word.” Edward was outwardly as relaxed as he could be. They’d either let him leave, or they wouldn’t. He didn’t believe he could convince them to let him leave if they’d decided otherwise. Judging by how casual the shaman was around him, he was damn sure his physical strength wouldn’t help him.

The shaman suppressed a chuckle. “Ah, it’s been a while since I had a verbal sparring partner. It’s quite boring when everyone takes your word as truth. I miss my master, truly. He never shied away from a good verbal sparring match.”

“No, I believe you’re searching for your brother. But your information is a bit outdated. He is 10 years old now, not 9.”

Although it looked like he wanted to elaborate further, he stood up and handed him the map he’d requested and left.

Just before he went through the door, he paused and said: “I’ll be back later to tell you what you’re up against. Do take a walk around the village meanwhile, it’s bad for you to simply lie in bed.”

Edward carefully opened the map, surprised at the seemed quality of the paper. The images were clear, and he doubted he could rip the paper by accident. Perfect for travelling.

His eyes searched the map for the city in question. It was near the centre. David and Edward had planned for the occasion should they get separated. They planned to meet up at a city. Granted it was small by Earth standards, but it was the largest city on the continent. He’d forgotten to ask where he was, but the city in question, Metralia, was marked in bold letter. Coupled with obvious landmarks surrounding it. Despite him knowing little about navigation, he was quite sure he’d be fine.

He winced slightly when he adjusted his position. The pain had almost been forgotten in his chat with the shaman. He supposed he would need to know where he was before he could figure out which direction to take.

He moved slowly and carefully. Gently moving his upper body lest he disturb his healing wound, covered by bandages.

His feet touched the cold wooden floor. He hadn’t really taken his boots off during his time here. Except when he switched clothes with the guard on the fortress wall, he hadn’t taken his boots off at all. Edward wasn’t sure if they cleaned him while he was injured, but if they didn’t, he was probably smelling quite badly. He hadn’t thought much of it while travelling. He and David were outside. The dirt and sweat hid their trail from any curious Rasts, more than it bothered them.

He felt clean, at least. Edward supported himself while he tried to stand up with as little pain as possible. It was quite debilitating. He wasn’t used to pain at all. At worst, minor scrapes and aches. The shaman had said 2 days, so he was quite sure it wasn’t crippling or debilitating at all. Maybe his high vitality and stamina was covering for him.

There was a pair of shoes placed by the bed for him, which he tediously put on. He saw the sun shining brightly through the window beside his bed, but wanted to see the village from the door rather than the window.

He cautiously took a deep breath of fresh air. Slowly breathing in to make sure he didn’t agitate his injury. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the light. But when they did, his breath was taken away by the sheer beauty of it. The village that he saw wasn’t at all like what he imagined it to be.

He expected to see children playing in worn clothes. Badly built houses. A general atmosphere of longing, perhaps. You know, the kind of village you see in fairy tales, the poor villages. What greeted him, however, was an entirely different reality. The first thing he saw was the wide street. It was paved with stone, beautifully greeting him when he stepped down onto it.

The houses weren’t shaggy or debilitating. They stood proudly. All of them were large. Some were uniquely coloured or shaped. He saw children playing in a field in the distance. They played some kind of ballgame. All of them looked healthy and fit. He even saw them doing flips when they kicked it. This wasn’t some poor fantasy village. It was a hidden paradise.

If he squinted just right, he could see walls of stone. He guessed them to surround the entire village, to protect them from most casual predators.

He took a wonderous step onto the road. With wide eyes looking at the beauty he’d found himself in. It was breath-taking. The people gently greeted him as he walked by. It was full of life. The paved roads were flanked on either side by berry bushes. Children dashed over to a bush and plucked a few before running back to playing, smiling happily.

The shaman, Edward decided, was doing a damn good job, if this was how his village looked like.

He slowly wandered outwards from the centre of the village where’d recovered. As he got closer and closer to edge, his guess that the walls of stone surrounded the entire village proved to be true. The entire area within the walls was levelled. Not a single wild tree in sight.

Approaching one of the fields, the children were playing on, he curiously observed their game. The field was littered with small, flat rocks. The children were barefoot and only walked on the rocks. Jumping between them. There were two goal-like structures. The children could kick and punch the ball, but not hold it. It was like a combination between the floor is lava and football.

He was quite startled when all the children ran over to him when he approached.

“Hey, Eddie’s here! Pause!” one of the older kids said and dashed over to say hello.

“Finally back from the militia? Did you kick the warlord’s ass?” He said excitedly.

“Hahah, not quite. Just stopping by. I did see him, though, while I was on a secret mission. I waved hello when he saw me and fled.” He embellished his story a bit for the children to wonder at.

He’d barely answered his first question when he was surrounded by a veritable sea of kids, all excitedly asking him about what he’d been doing since he left. Something still didn’t fit. Why was Thomas taken when others weren’t? They looked happy as could be. He doubted they’d experienced a village raid. They looked to innocent to have been through that. He’d have to ask the shaman later.

“Why don’t you show me your best moves on the field, I’ll be judging a winner.”

“You bet. I’ll win.” The first kid said confidently. Another argued “You? Winston you can barely stay alive. You always touch the ground.”

Edward realised 2 things whilst the kids were bickering.

First, he was at peace. He wasn’t itching for a fight like he had when travelling with David. He was calm and placid. He had clarity. He started to laugh because the kids reminded him so much of himself and John, when they were children. His heart melted at the sight. They drove their parents mad sometimes. And, although they never tell them that, they did it specifically to annoy them. When they were young, they could practically read each other’s minds. They always got along. Only arguing and fighting for the heck of it.

Second, he truly realised the scale of what he was a part of. This was one village amongst thousands. And several dozen cities. The warlord was threatening all of this. He didn’t know why. No one knew why, or so he was told.

He watched, amused, as the children started their game. All of them had gathered onto a single field so there were almost no stones to stand on. They bumped into each other constantly, pushing either themselves or the person they bumped into on the ground. It was pure chaos.

“Will Thomas be okay?” sometime during the match, a child had snuck up on him. Edward glanced down. Unlike the other children, he was full of sorrow. He’d lost the innocence the others had.

“Yeah. He will. I’ll make sure of it. Or the shaman will have my head.” The kid chuckled.

He paused. “Can I talk to you? In private?” the kid looked around, as if a bit troubled.

“Sure kid, give me a moment.” Edward turned to the field; it had almost turned into a brawl.

“Make sure you keep playing. I’ll crown the winner! I’ll be right back!” He boomed.

He turned around and started strolling to the stone walls. He wanted to see them up close.

“It’s about Thomas.” He said after a moment.

“What about him?” Edward answered casually, enjoying the scenery.

“I think he’s dead.” I stopped. What?

“Why do you think he’d dead? You just asked me if he’s going to be okay? Why did you suddenly change your question into a statement?” Edward crouched to lock eyes with the kid. Insecure brown eyes stared back at him.

“His bonded is gone.”

“His What?”

“His bonded?”

“Okay, let me clear one thing first. I’ve lost a lot of memories. I don’t know what a bonded is, I don’t even know your name.”

“What?”

“Never mind that. Could you clarify what you mean by bonded? I’m thoroughly annoyed that people can’t ever be straight with me.”

“H-, he’s the shaman’s apprentice. Upon his apprenticeship, the shaman helped bond him with an animal, so they could grow side by side.”

Edward rubbed his temples in frustration. His brother has a missing magical pet now? Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he?

“Why do you know it’s gone? And why does it being gone mean that he’s dead?”

“Is that why you’re here? Because you lost your memories? What memories have you lost?” The kid looked suspiciously at Edward.

“Ugh, I should never have admitted to it. Yes, I’ve lost almost all my memories. No, it isn’t why I’m here. I got lost. I’ve lost all of them except some specific ones of Thomas.” Edward said blandly.

“Why did you los-“

“Focus, kid. Why do you know his bonded is gone? And why does it being gone mean that he’s dead?”

“It’s bonded to his soul. It dies if he dies. And it was left in the Shaman’s house when Thomas was taken. I was the one taking care of it. And when the shaman returned without Thomas, he put it away. It’s no longer there. I looked everywhere.”

“Okay… Let me get this straight. Thomas, as the shaman’s apprentice, gets a cool magic pet that’s bound to him. What benefit does this have? Why would anyone bind an animal to their soul?” He said, trying to keep his frustration from showing.

This day was just getting better and better. First, he finds out he’s been out for 2 days. Unceremoniously told he has a wife. A wife that’s now deeply hurt, he doesn’t remember her. That he’s in his home village. That he has to stay here for another 2 days to recover properly. The list just keeps going.

“It’s- it’s because it will act as his guardian when he grows up. It evolves to a Rasts, or if he’s lucky, a Ba-Rasts, when he succeeds in the role of shaman.”

“Deep breaths, Edward. Deep breaths. So, kid, I just spoke to the shaman. Is there any reason why he wouldn’t tell me that?”

The kid fell quiet, and he looked down. ‘Okay then. That tells me absolutely nothing.’

He groaned internally that the easy ‘fetch his brother.’ quest turned more and ridiculous. It was supposed to be easy if he went right away, dammit. “Let me tell you, kid. He’s going to be fine. The shaman is sending me to get him. I’ll bring him back in perfect condition.”

The leaves rustled unnaturally. Edward instantly let Amind take over. He grabbed the kid and threw him out of harm’s way. The pain from that action alone caused him to feel lightheaded from the pain. Luckily, Amind wasn’t affected by said pain, unlike Edward.

It disappeared just as quickly. Fuck, the Ba-Rasts was here.

“Kid.” He growled, not taking his attention off his surroundings.

“Listen to me very very carefully.”

“I need you to fetch the shaman. Right now.”

The Ba-Rasts had obviously recovered faster than he had. It had come for revenge. He felt it instinctually. He had no idea if the village was safe, or had any defence’s other than the stone wall, which it could obviously cross.

He couldn’t turn his back on it. He was still injured. And worse, he was unarmed. He instantly saw his only opportunity was to stall for reinforcements.

The kid, whom he still didn’t know the name off, didn’t say a word. But perhaps understand the seriousness of the situation, immediately took off.

He tackled the Ba-Rasts as it leapt at the kid. “Sorry buddy, he’s my only hope you see. Can’t let him be killed.” He said, reassuring no one but himself.

The Rasts easily slipped out of his grasp, but he got a good look at it for the first time. It was… A predator? It was the most uniquely Rasts he’d laid his eyes on. Like a sleek combination between a leopard, a wolf, and a bear.

He carefully listened if it had chased the kid, but the leaves rustled around him instead. It was going to kill him first, then the boy.

He mentally flinched from the sudden dodge he made. The pain was completely paralyzing his thoughts. He had no mental fortitude left to think besides enduring the pain.

He dodged a few more times before the kid was finally out of earshot, feeling more and more faint headed from each dodge. The pain amplifying with each sudden movement.

That’s when adrenaline started flooding his veins. He could practically feel it travelling from his adrenal glands to the rest of his body with each heartbeat.

Not a single drop of adrenaline was released until that moment. Now, it all rushed into him at once. The pain faded to almost nothing in an instant. He could devote the entirety of his attention to surviving the next few minutes.

The Ba-Rasts changed its methods. It clearly wasn’t working. He would outlast it if it continued. It stopped hiding. It stepped out from the berry bushes it was hiding in.

It growled. It had been entirely silent until it stepped out. He only heard the leaves rustle. Now a primal growl shook his eardrums.

He stared straight at it. What he saw wasn’t elegant in any way. It was rabid. Its eyes were unnaturally red. Saliva dripped from its open mouth. What he saw was barely the same animal as the one he’d fought earlier.

Its claws were fully extended, ready to attack.

Its growl sounded like a combination of a lion and bear, turning into an unholy symphony that trembled the soul.

Unarmed as he was, he couldn’t execute any eye for an eye tactics. He also assumed they wouldn’t work. It didn’t look conscious enough to feel pain.

Edward backed away. Taking one careful step backward at a time. All he had to do was stall for time.