---[ POV: Herman ]---

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There was a crag in the cliff face about 10 meters above the bottom of the ravine. One would have trouble spotting it looking from the ground because of the angle of the cliff at this particular place and the uneven ledge that bordered it.

After climbing there with agility and swiftness most people would have found unwelcomed from a man of his age, Herman, slithered his way into the dark cave silently. The entrance was barely large enough to let him through walking sideway. After a short distance, it got a bit larger and he could finally progress normally.

Coming from the blinding clarity of the morning sun, the gloom or this earthen temple was hard to pierce for the old man. The shadows were fighting him, but his extraordinary hearing allowed him to pick on the whirling sound coming his way. His head abruptly leaned right without the rest of his body moving much. Cold air rushed past him, whistling, soon followed by the sound of metal clanging behind him.

"You're no fun, White," said the voice of a woman from the inscrutable depths of the cave. "Catch it next time. The blade's gonna chip and dull hitting those rocks."

"Not funny, Black. It could have hurt me," replied Herman.

"As if it could hurt you. You have your shield up at all times and I know for sure you've used that magic that allows you to ignore pain judging by how that woman manhandled your sorry ass back there without you crying about it."

"Ignoring pain doesn't mean I can't get wounded. I guarantee you I'll be stuck with a headache for days as soon as the spell fades off. And the shield's not up. I used almost all my mana to cast a teleportation spell last night."

"Meh...," said the feminine voice. "A good ole scar on that face of yours wouldn't be so bad. Gotta look like you're actually fighting and risking your life like the rest of us. I can't believe you've done this job for so long without getting a single scar to brag about."

"It's actually more impressive to brag about not having any. Scars are the consolation prize of the losers. How many do you have?"

"Fuck off White."

As Herman's eyes slowly got used to the darkness, he started to make out the form of a young woman in her mid-twenty seated on the ground, her back leaning against the wall. She was playing with a dagger, trying to keep it balanced upright with only the pommel on the tip of her finger, and was doing a pretty good job of it.

"Where's Red?" asked the old man.

"He went hunting. Our rations have dwindled a lot since we came to the mountains. He's been out for longer than I would have expected, though. Feral beasts must be avoiding this region for some reason. He should be back soon."

"I think the reason's pretty obvious," laughed the old wizard.

The young woman ignored him, flipped the dagger with a twist of the wrist, catcher it back, and sheathed it in her boot. "What happened? We lost sight of you when you went inside. Red was worried thing might turn sour after how it started."

"I'm sure it was Red that was worried."

"Fuck off already! How'd it go?"

"It went well. As good as it could given the circumstances, although, I'm still worried about the princess. Her core is not normal. Not stable at all. She's like a ticking bomb, ready to go off at any moment."

"That's pretty normal after an Awakening, ain't it?"

"Not like that, no," said Herman as he reached for the bag he had left in the cave the day before. He started to search it and finally took out a stone cube covered in magical glyphs. "I'm gonna contact Orvellas. Stay on guard. I don't think they did, but they might have followed me despite the precautions I took. I truly don't know what that boy is really capable of."

"Sure. What should I do if mister pretty boy shows his face? I kill him or simply invite him for a tea?"

"Do not attack him, Black. If he comes here, just stall for time and let me handle him," said Herman with a serious and warning tone. "I am not joking or giving you a piece of advice. That's an absolute order. We don't know where he is from or what he can do. I have seen him do things I can not explain. Things far more impressive than fighting a goblin's army by himself."

"How does one top that? I thought the goblins' thing was impressive enough..."

"The knowledge of his people is highly advanced. So advanced, in fact, that Valsevor now has his gaze on him. I suspect he might be an heir of Kaldor. We don't know what's on the other side of the Wastes. Maybe he came from there."

The woman known as Black could not answer this last statement. She just fixed Herman for a moment with a surprised and disturbed expression before shaking her head in disbelief and whistling appreciatively.

"You've made your case White, I sure won't attack that boy. I don't want that mentor of yours coming over to roast my ass because I broke his new toy."

"I don't think you could break it, even if you tried."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence..." said the women with an annoyed and sullen tone.

"I couldn't either. At least, not in a straight fight."

"Well, that's a first! I never thought I would hear the great White say that one day! You're always saying our targets are no real danger and that you could take them all on your own."

"Because I could. I'm not arrogant Black. I know my limits, and if I always said the same thing, it's that we hadn't met someone that represented a true danger until now, that's all. But that kid is one. A big one. He's not a pompous noble, arrogant merchant, stupid bandit, or whatnot. He's a well-trained fighter and a killer with an arsenal of tricks we know nothing about."

"Mmmh. And the woman? She killed a lot of Orvellas' men. How was she?"

"She's strong. In normal circumstances, it would have been a coin toss on who'd win in a fight between her and Red, but she lost a hand. I doubt she still poses a serious threat and she doesn't have any other string to her bow other than her monstrous strength and the princess' good graces."

"But aren't you afraid she'll flee with the princess while you're here? I don't want to go chasing after them again. It's been three weeks. Why can't they just hide in a city like normal fucking people?!"

"Stop whining. They won't flee, and even if they do, they won't go far before we find them again. I placed glyphs of tracking on the boy's armor, the princess' wristband, and Gwenvar's sword."

"Brazen. If the pretty boy's really one of the lost Kaldorian, he'll get wind of it quickly."

"I don't think so," said Herman. "He's really clueless about conventional magic, and even if he finds out, I should be able to justify myself someway. It's not like it's a dangerous spell or anything."

"Maybe not directly, but neither is flipping the finger or listening through closed doors on private conversations. All may still get you in trouble nonetheless."

"Sure. Well, it was that or taking the risk of having them run away again. Given your previous comments, you should thank me."

"Right, right. Whatever. You know what you're doing," said Black as she got up and walked toward the exit. "I'm gonna go keep watch. You talk to your witch."

Herman observed the woman leave, remembering with bittersweet regret the time when she was younger and easier to handle. He had met her and started to train her when she was barely 12 and, at that time, she was full of admiration and respect for him. Nowadays, she liked to argue with him a lot. Herman knew that most of what she argued about was justified or made sense, but he still had some trouble getting used to being questioned. Red almost never spoke, and argued even less. Green was dead and Blue had left the group, but those two didn't question him either. That left only Black. This annoyed the old man but also made him a bit proud. Black would do good for herself after he was gone.

The old man sat cross-legged on the floor and placed his hand in front of him in a position that might have suggested a prayer had he not held the stone cube between his thumbs and formed some strange symbols with his interlocked fingers. He started to meditate and project his mind through the cube, a formulaic focus designed to project telepathic communication far beyond its natural reach. He focused on the recipient he wished to contact and whispered his name "Orvellas..."

His mind was guided through an ocean of souls and minds toward the one he was asking for. After some time, his spirit find what it searched but crashed against it harmlessly, unable to progress further. Herman was used to the resistance. He had similar defenses erected around his own mind. He gently pushed against it to let his presence known and, soon enough, the barrier was lowered. He could feel Orvellas' mind beyond it. It was dark and twisted. Herman shuddered.

What is that man doing with his soul? No. I don't want to know.

"My Lord?" he inquired, trying to forget about the sinister psychic miasma emanating from Orvellas.

"I hope for you you're contacting me to say the princess is still alive, White. Alive and out of danger. I don't feel like being told otherwise, and you don't either," said Orvellas with a calm tone that was somewhat more intimidating than if he had screamed in rage.

"She will live, Sir, but there is another problem."

"White..." warned Orvellas with a whisper full of horrible promises.

"It's her core Sir. It's impressively large and dense, but also highly unstable. Nothing I could control when she Awoken."

"Is it dangerous for her life?"

"It is, My Lord. It could consume her from the inside if she doesn't learn to let out her excess mana soon. Or she could blow herself up by accident by outputting too much magic for the wrong spell. Or damage her core by..."

"I get it, White! She could hurt herself in a multitude of ways! So what can you do about it?"

"I can teach her how to control her powers but it will take some time. I could try to bring her back right away, but teaching her on the road would not be ideal and I don't think I can evade the vigilance of her new guardian and just snatch her away like that. That man we spoke about previously, he is now protecting her, and he is not to be trifled with."

"So what, you can't bring her back? I need her White! Time is playing against me."

"The magic of an Awakened can be triggered by emotions, My Lord. Bringing her back by force right away might cause something we would both regret. The princess is still fragile."

"Right... Goddammit! So irritating. But you can teach her, you said? And that man and her Warden will let you do so?"

"They won't have much of a choice once they realize the danger she represents for others and for herself."

"Fine. I don't like it but I was planning on training her anyway, and you're as good a mage as it gets. I guess learning magic here or there doesn't change much. How much time do you need?"

"I don't know. It depends on the individuals and I never trained a Blooded. It takes years for Forged just to create their core. I suppose teaching her the basics so that she doesn't kill herself accidentally could take anywhere from a month to a year."

"I'll give you four months, White. I want her by my side by the mid-summer festival, and not one day later."

"Understood, My Lord."

Orvellas did not bother answering. He erected his mental barrier again and Herman was kicked out, returning to the dark and damp cave in the mountain.

 

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