Shelves, reaching up to the mountainous ceiling above line the vast space of the Blackshire treasury. Stretching out across the hall, they divide the room into straight sections, leaving only enough space for no more than three people to walk, shoulder to shoulder, down the paths they create. Where ever my eyes turn, they're met by boundless treasures. Beside me, rows upon rows of high-grade potions of differing purposes, on the shelf opposite, jars filled with roots, herbs, leaves, among other miscellaneous treasures that I would not expect to see outside the Towers. Pressing forward within the space, weapons of different kinds enter my vision. The energy emanating from the metals forged into blades, astounding. To compare the resources of the Blackshire Clan to a low-tier Clan like the Wyatt is to compare a potted plant with a rain forest.

In truth, such a comparison would be far too generous. No comparison can be made at all; no matter where I look, resources of unparalleled worth lie. If I were to empty one shelf alone, my advancement into the fourth rank of Tension resistance would be assured.

Reaching out, I hold my hand over a clear glass box housing more ether-crystals than I could have believed existed in one place. Energy radiates from the box; it calls out to me, begging for me to go one step further and claim it as my own.

I could, as well…

I could just take it, abandon my other goals and claim the treasure for my own…

With a deep sigh, I move past the box and continue deeper into the treasury.

Getting here was the easy part; with my access to the fortress granted to me by a rank-five elder of the Clan, not many of those charged with the security of this stronghold have anything approaching the confidence to pay much scrutiny to my comings and goings. Under the cover of darkness, I silently withdrew from the chambers I share with my future bride, a bride so naive and thankful for my tutorship that she's willing to accept any story I spin to explain my frequent absences.

With those cards in my favour, it was only a matter of time before my investigations led me to the secret treasure room. I'll admit, breaching their security without triggering the warding Arts sealed into every door, tile, and wall leading to the treasury was no easy task. It required skills I have in abundance, but patience I have little patience for.

Still, to witness the riches that abound within this hall…

It was all worthwhile.

Or it would be if not for the final layer of defence. An Art that will trigger the moment I lay hands on anything here.

Can it be broken?

Of course, but not by me; not yet, at least. For now, my mission is one of sightseeing only. My eyes linger on the fortune before me. Tearing my sight from the hoard, I force my legs to follow my resolve and retread my steps towards the exit.

Pushing open the heavy darmite gate leading out of the hall, and walking through a dimly lit tunnel, I return to the main structure of the Blackshire fortress. With my enhanced senses, I navigate the castle floors, moving swiftly but silently, careful to avoid all presence of life.

I walk in shadows and darkness, slipping past guards where they cannot be avoided altogether, moving ever closer to the safety of the castle levels permitted to me. Like a thief in the night, I creep back into my chambers.

Alicia sits cross-legged on our bed, eyes closed, breathing rhythmic and steady, so deep in meditation that my return is entirely lost to her senses. Moving towards the girl, I remove the shirt from my back, take a body-refinement potion from a cabinet beside the bed, and sit cross-legged beside her.

True to his words, Gaius, the third elder of this Clan, provided to me the body-refinement potions he had promised. Even still, with the eight hours required to fully assimilate each potion, my "daily duties towards the prosperity of the Clan", and my nocturnal activities, in the three weeks since I relocated to the fortress, I've only managed to increase the strength of my Arts by one-point-three percent. Once this elixir is consumed, a further point-one percent will be added to the strength of my Arts. A small advancement, no doubt, but far from insignificant.

With a tug of my hand, I uncork the bottle, drink the liquid therein, and allow my mind to drift into timelessness.

***

'Lord Mohan… Lord Mohan.'

My mind retreats from eternity, and I open my eyes. Blurry at first, a female form stands in front of me. Bathing me in her sweet fragrance, before my vision adjusts to the light, I already know Alicia is the cause of my awaking.

'Good morning to you, my sweet.' Though my words still cause her recoil, since training Alicia in acidic Arts, her disdain for me has markedly reduced. Glancing up, I catch her eyes linger on my bare chest. As my gaze meets hers, her face flushes red, and she looks away.

It won't be long before the girl seeks me out for comfort…

Perhaps I've been too kind to her…

Even still...

I can't say the thought of indulging lacks all appeal.

'My father wishes to see you as a matter of urgency. Please dress yourself, and follow me to the dining hall.' Alicia steps to the side, allowing me to step foot out of bed.

'Is there no time to bathe?' From the right to the left, Alicia gently sways her head.

'I'm afraid not. My father insists that it's an urgent matter. Member's of the nameless revolt have been sighted near our stronghold.' Her words bring a smile to my face.

I suppose it's about time.

Sliding open a door, I enter my chamber's walk-in closet. Clothes hang suspended on wooden hangers, stretching out towards the end of the closet. Stepping further into the room, I locate a white, buttoned shirt, black trousers, a grey waistcoat, and a deep-blue tailcoat bearing the cross-stave symbol of the Blackshire Clan on the back.

I disrobe completely, dress myself with my selection, and exit the space. With a wave of my hand, I gesture for Alicia to lead the way.

Step by step, we walk the endless hallways of the fortress, ascend steps carved from stone, and arrive at the dining hall. Though incomparable to the Dread Mother's tea room, the hall is of vast size and splendour. From the centre of the room, reaching far in front and behind, a rounded table stands. Rested on the dining table, a white table cloth bearing crystal patterns.

On both sides near the front of the table, six men sit, a plate of light delicacies before them. At the head, Phillip Blackshire, Alicia's father.

'Logan, come. Join us.' Phillip says. By his instructions, I take a seat beside a heavyset youth. The man closest to the front of the table turns his face towards me and sneers. It takes a moment, but recognition floods my mind. He was one of the three to attack me in the training hall.

Two birds, one blade…

I can't ask for more.

Reclaiming all eyes around the table, Alicia's father forcefully clears his throat. 'I believe you've been informed as to why I have gathered the seven of you, so I'll get straight to the point.'

The sound of metal scraping the marble-tiled floor below fills all corners of the large dining room as Alicia bursts from the seat she had just taken opposite mine.

'Seven? Father, you promised you'd allow me to join! I'm not a helpless girl anymore! Even the Clan leader has praised my advancement!'

'My darling, it is exactly because of your talent that we cannot afford to risk your life on this task. I have never seen anyone progress as fast as you have, but you're not yet ready to carry out the duties of our Clan. Besides all of that, your training has clearly taken a toll on you. You've lost weight and your complexion has come to reflect the paleness of the moon.'

Alicia parts her lips to speak once more but is silenced by her father's palm held out towards her.

'I will hear no more of this. Return to your chambers and rest. Perhaps when you have regained your countenance, we can speak more on this matter.' Forcing air through her lips, Alicia turns and heads towards the exit.

'Women.' Laughter follows Philip's lone remark, chasing Alicia from the room. 'As I was saying. A party of Geo's bandits have been discovered near our stronghold. I am sending the seven of you to bring those outlaws to justice.'

The boy who had attacked me stands to his feet, dabs his lips with a handkerchief before throwing it down onto his plate of half-eaten meat strips, triangular fried potatoes, and eggs.

'Those brutes know no honour! They bite the hand that feeds them and declare their rightful rulers unjust. They are wicked beyond redemption, and I shall claim their head! Lord elder, I swear it!'

Nodding his head at the boy's words, Philip gestures for him to retake his seat. 'You speak well, Jasper. You will have the opportunity to prove the conviction behind your words. You shall be the leader of this fellowship.'

Jasper bows his head before returning to his feet and facing himself down the table. 'We shall depart at once.'

By his command, every chair slides behind every man along the length of the dining table. Following Jasper's lead, we leave the dining hall, walk through the fortress, and exit the building.

The boy leads us to two beast-drawn carriages. Coachmen wait by the doors to the interior before standing aside. Our party splits; four of the youths climb the steps into the carriage on the right, Jasper and the heavyset boy, enter the carriage to the left. Following suit, I walk the steps into the carriage Jasper had entered and take a seat opposite the boy. At my sight, he scrunches his face, leans forward, and looks into my eyes.

'Let us get one thing straight.' Jasper says. 'There is no need for you on this mission. If not for the elder's express command to have you accompany us, I would rather not set eyes on your lowly face. When we arrive, stand back, remain quiet, and do not interfere. Is that clear to you, leech?

'Perfectly.'

'Good.'

Turning his face away from me, the boy begins to converse with the heavyset youth. The carriage moves forward, and I allow my thoughts to drift, carried away by the constant spin of the wheels along the several terrains it rotates on.

I don't know how much time passed, but the slowing of the coach's speed returns my mind to the present. Gradually, the carriage comes to a complete halt. Glancing out the window, a bastard imitation of trees assaults my eyes. No matter how far I look, rows of trees stand.

Jasper and the other boy in the carriage with me stand to their feet. I stand also, but our "noble leader" pushes me back into my seat.

'Wipe that smile from your face, leech.' Without another word, Jasper draws a sword hung on the wall of the carriage, pushes open the exit, and jumps from the coach.

Standing once again, I, too, take a blade and exit the carriage, landing on the obsidian grass beneath. Between a line of trees, a soft orange glow betrays the presence of a campfire. The wind carries its smoke towards me. My heart thumps in my chest, my smile spreads on my lips, I try to hold it back, but I can't. Only one thought dominates my consciousness.

"Soon."

'They might as well have carved us a welcome sign.' The boy from whom the words were said walks to Jasper, places his hand on his shoulder and gently squeezes. 'After this, our contribution to the Clan cannot be denied. We shall have the respect we rightly deserve.' Jasper nods to his words before turning to me.

'You can wait here. We have no need for you.' The six youths walk forward towards the light. I wait for distance to grow between us before following their trail.

Over grass and past rows of closely packed trees, I stalk. Though far ahead, the six boys never escape my sight.

'Outlaw swine! Jasper shouts. 'You are guilty of sedition. The six draw their blades and charge from the trees. Steel clashes with steel, ringing out in every direction. My grin, broad and unhidden, I tread to the end of the path and spectate the conflict.

Nine men and one woman exchange Arts with the Blackshire Clansmen, but it's clear that they are no match. A group of mortals, women and children attempt to flee further into the forest. With an upwards wave of his hand, the heavyset boy summons a dome of turbulent water and seals the mortals within.

One by one, the nameless fighters are struck down, some by blade, some by Art, until only three remain of their numbers, two men and a raven-haired woman.

Jasper crosses his forearms before thrusting his hands towards his three remaining foes. A wall of water manifests in front of his palms and gushes forward, knocking the three bandits off their feet. Cruel and without pity, Jasper begins to laugh.

My blood runs cold.

'For a nameless bitch, this one doesn't look half-bad. Why don't we have some fun with her?'

'I must say, I'm partial to some fun.' Breaking from my place behind the trees, I walk towards Jasper and his party; he turns to face me.

'Did I not tell you-'

He doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence. Before the words part from his mouth, I part his head from his neck.

'You treacherous do-!' Releasing a spear of bone-white Tension through his neck, I forever silence the rotund boy's shouts, and his aquatic dome bursts, releasing the mortals he had imprisoned within.

The four remaining Blackshire clansmen point their trembling swords towards me. They hesitate; I don't. Before they find the resolve to attack, my blade flashes across their throats, showering the grass with their blood.

When the last body falls, I look towards the three surviving Tension Masters among the bandits.

'Who… who are you?' One of the men asks as he climbs to his feet.

'You're one of Geo's men, are you not?' With eyes spread wide, the man nods his head. 'Good, I need you to deliver a message.'

'What... What message... my lord?'

'Tell him I'd like to talk.

'I wish to join the cause.'