Finished helping Jace write Rickert’s suicide letter and planning their next move, Amon made his way back to the orphanage immediately not wanting to stay at the Anvil and Hammer longer than he needed to. He didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to himself, and he couldn’t bear being around Rickert’s corpse especially with Jace there.

Why am I so bothered that I killed Rickert? He was a drug addict and involved in the drug trade, there are worse crimes, but he wasn’t a good man… at least not when I killed him.

Amon didn’t want to think too deeply about it, so he focused on the blessing he had yet to test. He walked through the streets, trying to avoid everyone else, and when he was sure, no one was paying him any attention, he made his index finger steel. It was an odd sensation, there was a sudden coldness in his finger, and then nothing. He tried to flex his index finger, but it was unresponsive. He made his finger flesh again and flexed it to make sure it was completely back to normal.

That was easy, but it was also simple. I’ll try an entire limb.

Amon’s tunic and pants covered the flesh of his legs well, so he tried making his entire left leg steel. It took some effort, and it was slower than he preferred, but he was able to do it. Like his finger, he could no longer feel his leg or move it. He had to stop walking and hop out of the way with one foot when a man behind him was trying to pass him by. He began the process of making his leg flesh again and continued walking.

It’s unfortunate I can’t move the parts of my body that I turn to steel, but that just means I have to avoid turning joints to steel, and I can imagine how not being able to feel anything can be useful. It’s a good blessing for the time being. I don’t know how I’ll be cursed, but if I use it sparingly it won't affect me too much.

Amon had always been careful about using the blessings he took thanks to the first man he killed, the old man named Shadowless. He had been in the service to the royal family for nearly his entire life, and his blessing allowed him to use his own shadow as a weapon. He could strike, block, and engulf a person whole with it. When Amon met and killed Shadowless, it was in the Royal Palace’s dungeon which had been his home for fifteen years. He was a maimed broken madman that claimed his shadow spoke to him and told him to do wicked things, his curse he said. One of those wicked things and the cause of his imprisonment and torture was killing Lord Dantalian’s betrothed at the time. Vine told Amon that the only reason Shadowless wasn’t executed for his crime, was because Lord Dantalian wanted him to suffer for as long as possible. Judging by the calm relief, and gratitude in his single mutilated eye when Amon drove a dagger through his heart, Shadowless had indeed suffered long.

Shadowless… he should be in the Royal Palace’s dungeon right now. It’s been eleven years compared to the fifteen years that he was imprisoned for in my previous life, but he doesn’t deserve to suffer so long, and so cruelly. Perhaps I should sneak into the Royal Palace, and kill him.

When Amon killed Shadowless, he pitied the man, but it was only when Amon’s own shadow began speaking to him that Amon came to sympathize with Shadowless. The way his shadow spoke and the things it told Amon to do were bloodcurdling, it was a memory he wanted to forget and never experience again.

Fortunately, Amon didn’t dwell on that memory long because he was approaching the orphanage, and it reminded him of some better memories. The orphanage was more a dormitory, like the one he used to live in when he attended the Solomon Tactics Academy only not as nice or as comfortable, though Amon had to admit he had grown fond of it over the years and appreciated it more than he did in his previous life. When he reached the old iron gate that served as the entrance, Amon was greeted by Sister Minerva reading a book on a rocking chair. She was a kindly old woman and the Senior Sister of the orphanage. A position reserved for the oldest Sister of Leporah, the position should have been filled by Sister Haze, but Amon wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Sister Minerva.” Amon greeted.

Sister Minerva looked up from the book she was reading.“Amon,” She said surprised. “are you not starting your first day as an apprentice for Master Rickert today?”

“Well, there were some circumstances that prevented that from happening,” Amon said with a troubled smile.

Sister Minerva stood up from her rocking chair to open the gates. “Sister Haze isn’t going to like that. She will want to talk to you.”

Don’t remind me.

“I’ll talk to her soon, but I want to play with Caim, and Amy first. Can you tell me where they are?” Amon attempted with boyish charm.

She chuckled. “The same place as always, the toy room. Though I know you three don’t play with the toys. I’ll let you have your fun and won’t inform Sister Haze of your arrival until later.”

Amon gave her a slight bow as she opened the gates. “Thank you, Sister Minerva.”

I told Sister Haze I would tell her the truth, but how much can I tell her?

Amon shoved that issue aside to ponder later and walked through the gate. Sister Minerva closed and locked the gate as Amon ran to the toy room. It was one of the larger rooms in the orphanage, full of wooden and cloth toys, puzzles, games, and even a few wooden weapons like swords and shields which made it the perfect training ground for Caim and Amy. As he ran to the toy room some of the children playing outside started chasing after him, he turned around and saw two boys and one girl watching him with bright curious eyes.

“Amon! Do I have a blessing?” A girl who if Amon recalled correctly was named Juno asked.

“What about me?” One of the boys asked though Amon didn’t know who he was.

“I think I have one!” A boy who didn’t look older than seven exclaimed, so Amon very much doubted his claim.

He came to a halt and allowed the kids to swarm him. “Kids, you’ll know you’re blessed when you go through so much pain you vomit. Your body will feel like it’s being crushed between two rocks, your ears, nose, and eyes will bleed, and every step you take will feel like it’s your last.” Amon exaggerated though not completely. “You will also be cursed with a terrible affliction if you use your blessing too much, and that curse can kill you. It’s a warning and a reminder to the blessed to not abuse their power or think themselves above normal humans. Now that you know all that. Do you still want to be blessed?”

The kids looked horrified, tears welled up in their eyes and then they ran away without another word. Amon felt bad making them cry, but the more frightened they felt of manifesting a blessing the less upset and disappointed they would be if they didn't manifest one.

Sorry kids, it's for your own good.

With no more kids chasing after him, Amon quickly arrived at the toy room. He opened the door and was pleased by what he saw. Caim pinning a struggling Amy down with his knee on her back, and her arm in a wrist lock. No other kids were around as they didn’t want to risk fighting Amy for whatever perceived slight she felt from them. Which could range from them looking at her too long, looking away from her, frowning, smiling, and even moving in a way she didn’t like. Amon wasn’t sure if she genuinely felt slighted by those things or if they were just excuses for her to pick a fight.

Caim is coming along nicely, I thought Amy would have him crying by now, but it seems he’s taken to water form to avoid hitting her. Clever boy.

Caim noticed Amon watching, and when he turned his attention away from Amy, she took the opportunity to slip out of Caim’s knee and jump up. Caim must not have secured his wristlock as Amon thought because Amy easily freed herself from the wristlock. Caim was still grabbing Amy’s wrist when she pulled him in and headbutted him on his chin. He fell instantly.

I guess violence prevailed over technique this time.

“Hi, Amon.” Amy waved. Unconcerned about the boy at her feet that she just headbutted.

“Hi, Amy,” Amon waved back as he walked towards them. “Hi, Caim,” He looked down at the misty-eyed boy. “I told you she would make you cry if you didn't hit her.”

“I almost had her.” Caim sniffed, stood up, and wiped his eyes.

“Did not!” Amy exclaimed. “This was our fourth match, and he only won once in the beginning when I was going easy on him!”

Winning just once against Amy was impressive, and Amon doubted that Amy went easy on Caim. “I’m impressed by both of your performances,” He praised. “It doesn’t have to be a competition on who’s the best,” They looked to Amon, their eyes filled with admiration, and nodded. “Because I will always be the best regardless.” He smiled smugly.

Amy immediately tried tackling Amon, but she was predictable, so he sidestepped and took hold of her sleeve. Amon didn’t want to make a habit of putting his underlings in their place, but they wouldn’t learn otherwise. He pulled her towards himself and inserted his right arm under her armpit, then he spun on his foot, his back against her. He lowered his right shoulder and threw Amy over it. It was a gentle throw, and she fell on the ground relatively painlessly.

Amon kept his grip on Amy’s arm as he looked down at her. “You may be a natural, but you’re not ready to face me yet, Amy.”

She stuck her tongue out defiantly, and Amon let go of her arm chuckling.

“Caim?” He challenged.

“You’re the best!” Caim conceded immediately. Arms raised in surrender

“I’m glad we’re all in agreement.”

“Why are you here anyway? Didn’t you leave to do blacksmith stuff?” Amy asked as she stood up.

“Ah.” Amon scratched his cheek trying to figure out what to say. “I don’t think I’ll be doing that anymore. I don’t have the talent to be a blacksmith.”

“That’s too bad. Since it seemed you were so desperate to apprentice as one.”

Amon turned to the source of the familiar voice and saw Sister Haze by the door watching him and the kids.

Shit! I’m not ready to talk to her yet.

“Sister Haze, when did you get here?” Caim asked timidly.

“Just now.” She shrugged.

“Sister Haze, can I sleep in Amon, and Caim’s room? Amon said that I could!” Amy said running to Sister Haze.

Amon didn’t say that, and he was still deciding if that was a good idea, but it seemed Amy thought differently.

“Did he now.” Sister Haze crouched to look at Amy.

“Yes! He said that he would ask you and that I could sleep in his bed since there wasn’t enough room for me!” Amy lied or rather said what she believed to be the truth since she seemed so sure of herself.

“Sister Haze, Amy seems to have misun-”

“Why do you want to sleep in their room?” Sister Haze asked Amy, not letting Amon explain himself.

“The other girls are bitches!” Amy said confidently.

Amon was happy to see a look of horror pass over Sister Haze’s face. She was at fault for how Amy spoke after all.

Sister Haze smiled sweetly and put her hand over Amy’s mouth. “Amy, girls shouldn’t say those kinds of things no matter where or who they heard it from. Understand?”

Amy nodded silently, and Sister Haze released her. “It’s almost time for lunch. You kids should go eat.” She opened the door and gestured for them to leave.

Caim and Amy made for the door, and Amon followed behind them, trying to avoid eye contact with Sister Haze, hoping she would let him leave. Amon made it out the door when he felt Sister Haze’s hand atop his head. “You kids go on ahead, Amon and I have something to discuss.”

“Okay! Bye Amon!” Amy didn’t give Amon a second glance.

Caim gave Amon a sympathetic look, but left as well, chasing after Amy.

Their loyalty needs a bit of work.

“Sister Haze, I’m feeling hungry. We should talk after I finish eating.” Amon said trying to escape her now iron grip on his head.

“I’m having food delivered to my room. Come.” She began walking, not letting Amon go.

Gods! Why weren’t you this obsessed with me in my previous life when I had a crush on you!

With no room for escape, Amon followed or rather got dragged by Sister Haze. He took the time he had left to figure out what he was going to say, and not say. The news of Rickert's death would soon make the rounds if not today then tomorrow. A renowned Master Blacksmith killing himself was something the criers would be spouting for days. Amon didn’t think Sister Haze would believe he wasn’t involved since she already suspected that he wasn’t going to Rickert to be his apprentice.

Should I just tell her the truth?

He quickly dismissed that thought. Though he trusted Sister Haze, there was something at play that prevented Vine from succeeding, and until Amon found out what or who that was, he couldn’t be truthful about himself to anyone, at least not completely.

“We’re here. Did you finish thinking about what you’re going to tell me?” Sister Haze smirked knowingly.

Amon returned a shaky smile. “What else, but the truth.”

She snorted, opened the door to her bedroom, and pushed him inside. “Our meals will be delivered soon. Until then, sit down,” She pointed at an ornament wooden table. “and continue thinking about what you’re going to tell me. It’s clear to me you’re hiding something.”

Amon immediately took her up on her offer and made for the table. He made a quick sweep of her room and was taken aback by how luxurious it was. She had a proper canopied curtained bed with silk bedsheets, a wool blanket, and two soft pillows. A large oak armoire that he couldn’t imagine Sister Haze needed since he’d only seen her wear her usual garb. She even had three storage chests each secured with a padlock. Amon once had his own room in the Royal Palace, and while this room wasn’t as luxurious it was close.

That old bat! How can she live so luxuriously while we sleep on straw beds! How can she even afford all this!

Amon pondered that as he sat down on a chair, and concluded that she was either stealing money from the donations made to the Sister of Leporah to support the orphanage, or she had grown to be wealthy over her many, many, years of life. He didn’t think nor wanted to believe that Sister Haze was capable of stealing from the orphanage, so he concluded it must have been the latter.

“Well, I hope you’re ready.” Sister Haze said approaching the round table with two trays.

Amon had been so caught up in needless musings that he didn’t even notice someone came to deliver their meals. Sister Haze set down a tray in front of him, a simple broth with some pork, a side of scrambled eggs, mashed potatoes, and carrots. He looked across the table and saw that Sister Haze had received the same meal.

“So, what happened at the Anvil and Hammer that made you come back so soon?” She asked, her violet eyes shining inquisitively.

He took a drink from the broth, trying to come up with an answer, but other than the truth he saw no other answer that Sister Haze would believe. She kept watching him even as she picked up her wooden spoon and took a bite of her mashed potatoes.

“Perhaps we should finish our meal first.”

Sister Haze released a soft sight. “Come on, kid. You’ve stalled long enough. I think I deserve the truth, I got you the apprenticeship after all.”

Amon was silent as he took his spoon and took a bite of mashed potatoes himself. He was only delaying the inevitable he knew, but he couldn’t put into words what he had to say.

“Very well,” She nodded. “I’ll be truthful with you, and you can follow my example.” She grabbed and bit into a carrot. “I’m over three hundred years old.” She said nonchalantly.

Amon nearly choked on his mashed potatoes. “How can you admit to that so easily!” He blurted.

In his previous life, Amon was never told her true age. He only found out by coincidence. Most people that knew Sister Haze also knew she was older than she looked, it was hard to miss when she never aged. Only, they didn’t know how old she truly was.

Sister Haze took in Amon’s bewildered expression stoically before a victorious smile blossomed on her lips. “You’re a smart, kid, but I have years of experience over you. Why would you believe something so unbelievable unless you already knew or suspected.”

Amon was astonished once more. She had tricked him. “I don’t believe you,” he replied.

Sister Haze snickered and waved her wooden spoon at him. “Yes, you do. You’ve known for a while now I suspect.”

How! I’ve never called her old bat aloud, and I’m sure I never asked about her age, so how did she know?

“How did you know?” Amon asked. There was no point in pretending he didn’t know Sister Haze’s age any longer.

She shrugged. “I think I’ll keep that to myself. Besides, my age is not as big of a secret as you may believe it is. All the sisters in this orphanage know that I’m older than all of them. Even outside the orphanage, most of the Sister of Leporah in the Weyer Kingdom know.”

Though Amon knew, he still felt obliged to ask for appearance's sake.“Why is Sister Minerva the head sister then? Shouldn’t that be you?”

“Ha!” She exclaimed. “Do I look old enough to be head sister to you? No, a kindly old woman best represents the Goddess Leporah. Sister Minerva is more than fit for the task.”

Since Sister Haze is being so honest, perhaps she’ll answer something I was always curious about.

“Is it your blessing that has allowed you to live, and stay young for so long?” Amon asked trying not to sound too curious.

Sister Haze picked up her broth and took a long sip.“That’s enough about me.” She said ignoring Amons question. “So, the Anvil and Hammer what happened?”

I guess I pushed too far with that question.

Though Amon wanted to talk about her further. He no longer had any excuses, and since she trusted him with one of her secrets, the least he could do was trust her with one of his.

He took a deep breath before explaining what happened. “I was never interested in becoming Rickert's apprentice. I only wanted to do that so I could get close to him and kill him, and to make his death look like a suicide, so I could leave a suicide letter that detailed his involvement with the mastermind behind the drug trade in the city, Solas of House Owlking. So, that’s exactly what I did, and due to some circumstances, Rickert's apprentice Jace decided to help me. Currently, he should be reporting Rickert’s suicide to the Bastion Knights. I expect that they with the combined force of the rest of the Bastion Knights and the royal family will be able to deal with Solas and House Owlking as well if needed.”

Amon let out a long relieved sigh and looked up to see Sister Haze watching him equal parts curious, and horrified.

“Damn, kid. I said I trust you, and I still do, but that’s a lot to take in. You have to tell me how you know all that.”

Amon shook his head, though he was glad to hear she still trusted him when others may have thought him mad, he couldn’t reveal everything to her. “I can’t say.”

“You can’t say.” She raised an eyebrow. “You can tell me all of that other shit, but you can’t tell me how you know?”

Amon smiled apologetically. “No, but perhaps one day I can.”

I hope that’s true.

She didn’t seem satisfied with his answer, but she accepted it. “I look forward to that day, but for now, we still have some things to discuss,” She took a drink from her broth before speaking again. “I’m damn sure you’ve never killed anyone before Rickert, so… let’s talk about it.” She said seriously.

She’s right. At least in this life, Rickert is the first person I’ve killed. If I don’t talk about it perhaps I’ll never stop being bothered about it.

“I,” Amon began, and his hands trembled. “I was expecting Rickert to be someone deserving of death. He was a nyghtmare addict and involved in the drug trade after all, but in his last moments, I saw him for what he was… just a sick man who made some mistakes, perhaps… perhaps he didn’t have to die.”

Sister Haze was quiet, but Amon could see her violet eyes alive with emotion.“So… Rickert was a nyghtmare addict.” She shook her head. “I’ve seen them in the streets I should have pegged him as one when we spoke, but I guess I couldn’t believe that a Master Blacksmith used drugs.” She stood up, walked over to Amon, and hugged him. Bringing his head to her belly. “I don’t know if you did the right thing when you killed Rickert, and it’s good that you’re not treating taking life lightly. So, if you’re truly remorseful that you killed him, learn about the man he was so that you may never forget him. I don’t know what other trouble you’re going to get into, but don’t hesitate to come to me to share your worries or just to get things like this off your chest.”

Oddly, Amon felt warm inside. “Sister Haze,” He looked up to her in wonder. “When you say things like that I’m reminded that you truly are a Sister of Leporah.”

She chuckled and pinched his cheek. “Do you feel better now?”

Amon reluctantly pulled himself away from her and nodded. It was a relief having someone to talk to even if he couldn’t tell her everything, but there was still something that he found odd.

“Sister Haze, why do you trust me so much? If I was in your position I don’t think I would believe half the things I’ve told you.” He was genuinely curious why she had so much faith in him since in his previous life she didn’t trust him to this extent.

Sister Haze ruffled his dark locks gently before returning to her chair. “Amon, when one lives as long as I have it becomes easier to see people for who they truly are. You’re not as truthful with me as I like, but I can see that it’s not because you don’t want to, something is holding you back.”

Scarily perceptive of her.

“Thank you for being so understanding, Sister Haze. I think I’ll be relying on you a lot more from now on.” Amon said honestly.

“I’ll always be here for you, kid.” She picked up her spoon and scooped out a sizeable portion of mashed potatoes. “Let’s finish eating, then we can continue talking.”

If Amon was being truthful, now that he told her about what happened today and his troubles with Rickert's death, he wanted to know more about Sister Haze’s long-lived life.

Now that I think about it, I don’t know anything about Sister Hazes’s life before she began teaching in this orphanage. Surely she couldn’t have been a Sister of Leporah for her entire life? They’ve only been around for some two hundred years.

“Three hundred years. I’m sure you have some stories to tell?” Amon asked nonchalantly.

There was a mischievous glint in Sister Haze’s violet eyes when she smiled. “I can’t say, but perhaps one day I can.”

Amon bit into a carrot disappointedly. For a three-hundred-year-old woman, she could be quite childish at times.

I should check on Jace tomorrow as I told him I would. If everything is going well then he’ll be with Sir Orabas and his unit.