Yuer danced for what might have been a candle-hour or maybe three; he danced until he couldn’t feel the soles of his feet anymore. He danced until an Echo-reading ability, which he never remembered attaining in his previous lifetime, signaled to him the conjuring of Divine Echo nearby.

Yuer didn’t react for while. Echo-reading was the rarest and most elusive skill that a Listener could ever hope to obtain in their lifetime. It was different from Echo-control for the latter only required vigorous and faithful exercise to rank up. The more advanced a Listener’s Echo-control was, the higher the level of their Echo became. Echo-reading was unique because it required natural affinity to the Divine Echo itself and inherently different training methods. It also increased in rank the longer one trained for it.

The highest level of Echo-reading would manifest in the ability to read not only nearby Echo but to also determine the attribute and the level of said Echo. Yuer never recalled having this ability before and he didn’t think he ever trained specifically to attain it. Where did it come from? And all of a sudden like this? The only occurrence he could logically link to this was his third Echo. Today, he managed to control it and stay conscious, the next thing he knew; he could Echo-read? But what kind of Echo could allow such rapid growth? How did this even make sense?

The youth eventually snapped out of his stupor and decided not to think about what was happening for now. Instead, he rushed to the garden where he found two hooded figures standing atop the outer northern wall. One of them touched the wall, calling forth several sturdy-looking spikes to protrude across its surface. They then used them to slowly hike down the wall. The other figure followed behind. Once they reached the ground, they took over their cloaks’ hoods, revealing a composed Sakina and a smirking Hasha.

The Mesrin redhead lifted her hand in the air, creating a fist and the spikes were swallowed back into the wall as if they had never existed before. Yuer admired her Echo-control. She then turned to him and said, “The Shakoura sends its regards, esteemed ‘client’.” She winked at the last bit, handing Yuer a sealed letter.

Yuer took it and turned to Sakina who dipped her head in his direction as a greeting, “It is done, esteemed young master. The boy is now within the Temple. I received back the token and was also given a letter addressed to your esteemed self, written by the hand of his Holiness.”

The Dasrari youth took yet another letter; he glanced at the wax seal which bore the moon, the crest of the Temple. The one Hasha gave him bore the seal of the Scythe Spider which meant it was written by the hand of a Shakoura executive chief rather than a subordinate.

Yuer patted both girls on the shoulders and praised them with a genuine smile, “Well done. You two have performed your tasks beautifully. I’m proud of both of you. Let us get to the servants quarters before anyone notices us.”

The girls followed Yuer to the servants’ quarters where he used the water pitcher to fill both of their cups. He addressed Hasha in Mesrin as he handed her a water cup, “Whom did you meet? And what did they say?”

Hasha gulped down her water, took off her cloak and made herself comfortable on one of the three beds, “A Valquari high-level Fire Listener. He is a chief enforcer within the Shakoura. He told me to address him as Cahail. I doubt it’s his real name or real code-name for that matter. The Shakoura guard their code-names furiously from what I have heard. Anyhow, he looked into the code-name you gave me before, Silent Dagger, and turns out you were right about her. Cahail found several letters in her underground vault which leaked sensitive information about the Shakoura to an unknown group of people. From what he said, it seems that finding the rest of the traitors isn’t as easy as the Shakoura thought. Cahail requested for aid from your ‘network’ in order to dig up at least one more code-name. He said he is willing to pay whatever price you name. There is more about his request and what he wished to say on the letter.”

Yuer chuckled at Hasha pronounced way of mentioning his nonexistent ‘network’ but didn’t comment on it. Instead he said, “Good, seems all is going according to plans.”

Hasha however didn’t hold back her curiosity, “I don’t know whether to admire you or to be terrified of you. It’s almost unreal that an eighteen-winters old soft Dasrari boy is able to know the inner workings of the most dangerous criminal order in Sema. Not to mention even knowing of the murky water that runs right beneath their feet. Are you like one of those ancient Alhari Seers my grandmother used to tell me and my cousins tales about?”

Yuer bit down his smile and fixed Hasha with a somewhat serious look, “Would you like to know?”

Hasha straightened her previously lazy posture, “There is no way you are a Seer. Is there?”

As Yuer looked into Hasha’s gleaming eyes, the left side of his faintly red lip tugged upwards creating a sinister smirk upon his otherwise soft-looking face, “I have sold my soul to the Dawaha. That’s how I know.”

Hasha’s amber eyes stared back at him, wide-eyed, as if they had forgotten how to blink. In a disbelieving yet hushed voice, she sought confirmation, “You are jesting, right?”

Yuer neither confirmed nor denied her question and instead headed back his personal quarters while his light laughter rang behind his departing figure.

---

As soon Yuer got to his inner chamber, he rushed to his deck and commenced with unsealing the letters. He summoned an orb of light with his Light Echo and had it illuminate his room. The orb hovered over his head as he read. The Tewekaga’s letter mentioned several things including his willingness to take Tamine under his wing and the current state of the Helisari. He also mentioned the armed conflict in the Masqafi land and how the Rezas was already pressuring him to send even more of the Temple’s arms into the region. He also spoke of Ivak, saying that the Second Reznal was the only Reznali who bothered to visit for reasons other than threatening him. He said they had a civil relationship and that he held great respect for the Kersasi heir.

After reading the first letter, Yuer rested his chin on his clasped hands and closed his eyes for a moment. Several thoughts raced across his mind but he didn’t commit to any of them. Eventually, he opened his eyes and resumed with the opening of the second letter.

This letter mentioned what Hasha spoke of, a greeting and a request for further assistance in regards to the Shakoura traitors’ matter. Overall, the letter had a respectful overtone as if the writer was speaking to someone they did not wish to make an enemy of.

Yuer wasn’t interested in the Shakoura’s gold, what he really wanted was their eyes and ears. Little happened in the capital, even in the palace, without the knowledge of the Shakoura. The only reason the Aknar order escaped their scrutiny during Yuer’s past life was because of their appointed head, a rare high-level Dark Listener who could manipulate memory and who was himself an executive chief within the Shakoura, the very blood brother of its head. Later on, they enjoyed Jarak’s direct protection. In fact, Jarak had extracted the Aknar from the Undercity and concealed them within his inner circle before the Shakoura could effectively eradicate them.

Equipped with sensitive information about the Shakoura, the Aknar used what they had to slowly destroy the Shakoura from within, plunging them into a state of paranoid and chaos by targeting the head of the Shakoura himself. Through deliberate schemes and a healthy dosage of long-term brainwashing, the Aknar’s head managed to paint his own brother as the ‘true traitor’ to the code of Scythe Spiders. The Shakoura head paid dearly for not keeping his guard up against his own blood. Shortly after he ‘lost’ his sanity and was declared senile, the Aknar swallowed up the remnant of the Shakoura and became the new king of the Undercity, all while being under the patronage and support of the Malhada. They later used the same tactics to frame Ivak and Sinrad. It was quite befitting for a man to rise to power over the life of his own blood and for Jarak to use this particular man to achieve the very same thing. Birds of feather flocked together and so did kin-slayers. As the ancients had once said one attracted what one was.

As Yuer was debating what to write back and whether he should expose the Shakoura head’s brother when his newly acquired Echo-reading ability mentally screamed to him the existence of not one but several Echo Listeners nearby.

Yuer jumped from his seat and dashed outside. He went to the garden first but there was no one there. He paced the northern wall of the residence for a moment until he felt it, the signal from his Echo-reading. Eleven Echo Listeners were just behind the wall. Yuer didn’t react instantly, instead he thought for a moment.

Could they be Kumatani? No, they wouldn’t risk coming to the Dasrari District, not even under the cover of the night. If the Tewekaga wanted to communicate something to him, he would never do it in such a dangerously open manner. At this conjuncture, Yuer realized it could only the other party: the Shakoura.

They must have tailed Hasha. While Yuer thought on it, it dawned to him that he should have expected this. The Shakoura wouldn’t let him remain hidden for long. He debated going out and meeting them. Logically, they wouldn’t hurt him. After all, he was their only chance in digging up the rest of their traitors and their letter didn’t sound particularly aggressive in anyway. It was, in fact, the opposite which meant they wanted to meet him face to face.

Yuer debated whether he should call for Hasha but then thought against it. Even if the Shakoura wished to truly harm him, having Hasha back him up would still be useless against their eleven Listeners. Steeling his heart, Yuer used the same Earth Echo method Hasha had previously used to climb up the wall. Once he reached the top of the thick wide outer wall, he saw them. Eleven dark-cloaked figures. They also noticed him because their hooded faces tipped up in his direction. Yuer didn’t waste time and descended from the wall using his Earth Echo. The moment he reached the graveled-ground of the street, the eleven figures surrounded him like a pack of Kersasi wolves.

He stood amidst them in his white indoor robes, back straight and slender frame unyielding. One of the figures jumped at him, aiming a gust of Wind-Echo as sharp as the edge of a scythe his way. Yuer’s new Echo-reading ability picked up the attack before it could manifest and he prepared for it by stomping one of his feet against the ground, sinking the earth beneath his opponent’s feet trapping them and disrupting their momentum. He then dashed to the trapped figure, removing their hood and pulling a jagged stone dagger he conjured in an instance right at their exposed and vulnerable neck.

A moment of silence passed, followed by another then the crisp and ringing sound of a clap broke through the tense hushed air. Yuer released the trapped figure and turned toward the one who was clapping. He studied them sharply, taking in their tall yet lean hooded frame. Strands of white hair spilled out of the hood and the youth understood who this very man was: Cahail.

Yuer was still surveying the man when the latter abruptly and suddenly dashed his way. The Dasrari youth’s echo-reading ability instantly went wild, urgently crying out its alarm. It screamed to him that if this man’s attack managed to connect with his body, it would kill him. Yuer however wasn’t able to act fast enough. The oppressive aura of his opponent’s Echo threatened to suffocate him and his speed defied anything Yuer had ever seen before. An overwhelming instinct for survival seized Yuer and the next he knew, his third Echo manifested itself unconsciously.

Pitch black tendrils seeped out his body, somehow managing to make the deep night even darker. They crowded around Yuer at a speed so abnormal that the youth could sense a slight rip in time and reality. They consolidated themselves into the shape of something familiar, something Yuer had seen before: a massive hollow-eyed serpent. The serpent’s grating furious voice scraped against the very air, making it tremble and shudder:

((Who dares harm our heart?!))

((Who dares harm our blood?!))

((Who dares?! Who dares?!)))

In its rage, the black serpent viciously hissed at Cahail who was just about to hit Yuer with his Fire Echo layered fist. More black ink seeped out of its fangs in something that most resembled venom. The released ink enveloped Cahail’s incoming fist, piercing through his Fire Echo and right in front of Yuer’s and the other figures’ astonished eyes, it ripped the fist from its socket: flesh, bone and all.

Cahail wailed. His wail was so sharp and painful it punctured the very night. However Yuer’s third Echo seemed to not be done with him, the seeped ink relentlessly pursued the fallen man, swearing to Yuer than they would rip the man apart piece by piece and feast upon his blood:

((Insolent fool!))

((We shall wine upon your blood))

((We shall feast upon your flesh))

((Yes! We shall! Yes! We shall))

The serpent coiled its body around Yuer protectively, refusing to leave his side, while the inky shadows began to snake around the wounded Cahail, a mere instance from ripping him apart. Just as they were about to do so, Yuer tried something he had never done before which was to speak to one of his Echoes directly.

“Leave him be.”

As soon as he voiced out that thought, the ink tendrils and the serpent dissolved into a pitch black haze which traveled back to him, sinking into his body.

The silence that dominated the air after the disappearance of the nightmarish Echo was so deafening it felt almost surreal to Yuer. The figures, who were encircling him a moment ago like a pack of predators, backed away one after another as if they were physically hit by a wave of something invisible. None of them dared to approach Cahail, who was now silently writhing on the ground. He bit into the fabric of his large hood to muffle his screams. He held his now severed hand with his remaining one, looking to stanch the excessive bleeding with the hem of his long cloak. Sweat pooled against his forehead, making his wet white strands stick uncomfortably to his face.

His black eyes bored into Yuer and for the first time in his past life and in this current one, Yuer was seeing genuine fear in the eyes of someone as they looked at him. He didn’t know what to feel about it. While, it did give him an undeniable rush of power, it also made him uneasy.

Yuer shook his head slightly, wandering off unnecessary thoughts. What was important right now was to save this man’s life. Yuer stepped closer to Cahail who struggled to crawl away from him. The remaining figures retreated even further. The Dasrari didn’t pay them any attention and instead called forth his Light Echo. He grabbed the bucking Cahail’s arm and injected his healing Echo into his flesh. His severed hand stopped bleeding at a visible rate. The torn flesh and bone slowly mended themselves and the cut closed gradually leaving behind a healed yet slightly swollen stump.

A gasp broke through the silence from one of the hooded figures.

Cahail dropped the part of his hood he used to stuff his mouth and stared, wide-eyed at Yuer. A combination of disbelief and awe was visibly etched across his pale and sweat-soaked face. In a hoarse and slightly pained voice, he whispered, “Three Echoes…What in the Dawaha are you?”

Yuer rose to his feet and fixed Cahail with a scathing look, “I know the Shakoura has a challenge ritual which they reserve for initiated members and possible allies. However, you went too far this time. Had your high-level Fire Echo touched me, I wouldn’t be alive right now. You should learn to be smarter than this. Being a high-level Listener does not mean you are indestructible.”

The youth then offered a hand to the man. The Valquari looked at it for a moment before accepting it. Yuer helped him hauled himself up.

Cahail didn’t allow his gaze to stray away from Yuer even for a moment; something akin to admiration swam in their bottomless black depths. He thudded a fist against his chest, and bowed waist-deep to the younger youth. The Shakoura only acknowledged the strong and such salutes were usually reserved for their superiors as an unabashed show of respect. Cahail here was telling Yuer that he was acknowledging himself as someone inferior and that he respected the youth’s strength. Like a chain effect, the remaining ten figures beat their fists against their chest in one seamless movement and dropped to their knees, heads bowed even lower than Cahail’s.

With a hand, Yuer beckoned them to their feet. He then turned to Cahail and couldn’t help but glance at the man’s now severed hand. The Shakoura executive noticed his glance and lifted what was now but a stump of flesh. He didn’t look sad in the slightest about using one of his hands. Instead he expressed, “I deserved this. I had grown far too arrogant. You put me in my place. I thank you for the lesson. You spared me when you didn’t have to. I shall remember your mercy.”

“Always assume there is someone stronger than you out there. Never let yourself get too comfortable, that’s how you die. An opponent, no matter how frail they might seem, must never be underestimated.” explained Yuer, falling into the role of a stern and yet magnanimous superior, knowing that what the Shakoura’s head respected even more than brute strength was the combination of strength and wisdom.

His words seemed to have the intended effect as Cahail offered him yet another respectful bow and said, “I shall take your wise words to heart.”

Yuer didn’t wish to dwell on this matter any further so he broached, “You wished to meet. Here we are, what is it that you wish to talk about?”

Cahail swept his black eyes across their deserted surroundings and turned to Yuer, “May I step closer?”

The younger youth nodded. The Valquari walked closer to him and lowered his head; bringing his mouth a mere breath away from Yuer’s ear. He whispered, “We raided the secret vault which you informed us about. Except for several letters that were addressed to different unknown aliases, nothing else was found. Even our most experienced and prided Hawks are still unable to track her down. Silent Dagger vanished as if she had never existed which is not right.” 

Yuer shifted his face slightly in Cahail’s direction. His blue eyes bored into the older youth’s. He whispered in a tone that brooked no argument, “You won’t find her no matter how hard you try.”

Cahail frowned, “Why?”

“Because she had already been disposed of by her own people.” answered Yuer.

Cahail demanded through clenched jaws, visibly unsettled, “Who are they?”

“Have you ever heard of the Lakar story of the Black-tipped snake which unknowingly raised a Nak’e hatchling?” asked Yuer, staring meaningfully at the grim-looking Cahail.

Cahail fell silent, appearing to be pondering something.

Yuer added, hoping to nudge the man’s thoughts in the right direction, “Now imagine if the story wasn’t about a Nak’e hatching but about two Black-tipped snake hatchlings: a pair of blood siblings. Instead of the Nak’e youngling, it’s the younger hatchling which ends up swallowing its own blood and later on, the entire nest.”

Cahail’s eyes were wide, looking right at Yuer, but not really. Their black depths grew too glossy almost as they were glazing over.

Yuer nodded, holding the older youth’s gaze, “Yes, Cahail. It is exactly what you are thinking. You can refuse to believe me but your head cannot afford to wait a moment longer. If you don’t act, he won’t be around for much longer and he won’t even see it, the dagger that would stab him in the back, cutting right through to his heart.”

Cahail closed his eyes for a moment, seeming to struggle with the realization of what might be truly happening. He visibly gulped a couple of times, as if he was looking to swallow down the bitterness of betrayal. He opened them eventually and stared once more at Yuer, “Five gold pieces. Would that be enough?”

Yuer shook his head, “Money is not what I seek.”

Cahail raised a white brow, “What form of payment would satisfy you?”

“The cooperation of your elite scouting unit, the Hawks. I want their eyes and their ears on the palace but specifically on the Malhada. There is also much for the Shakoura to gain in assisting me in shadowing him.”

“Why would there be?”

Yuer pointedly replied, “Because he is the tree which the younger Black-tipped hatching we spoke of will seek for shade the moment it is startled out of its nest.”

Cahail visibly froze for a moment as if grappled by something he could have never foreseen. Once he jerked himself out from yet another shock, he asked, “You are the youngest Ayaseen son, aren’t you? The Alikana-marked of this age?”

Yuer saw no point in hiding his identity any further as the man already seemed to know who he was, “Yes, I am and I have no plans to bond the Malhada. In fact, I seek to topple him from his golden seat of honor and you might wish to do the same if you desire the survival of the Scythe Spiders. Rather than each of us acting independently, how about we simply join hands?”

Cahail clenched his remaining hand into a tight fist, “They wish to make the Shakoura theirs, don’t they?”

Yuer understood that the man was referring to both his head’s younger brother and Jarak. He nodded, “Yes. The younger hatchling no longer wishes to be a subordinate and the Malhada wants his claim to the Semani throne undisputed and for that to happen, he needs support from outside of the Dasrari. He seeks to wipe out his competitors one by one but he cannot afford to directly sally his own hands. Instead, he will have his new efficient yet docile hounds do it for him.”

Cahail let out a bitter and hate-filled laugh. His previously glazed eyes grew sharper, darker and meaner, “We will see about that.” He then turned to Yuer and asked, “Who will you bond?”

Yuer didn’t hide it, “Ivak of Kersa, the Second Reznal.”

Cahail appeared surprised for a moment but quickly smoothed back his features, “What will he say to an alliance with the Shakoura? If the throne is what he seeks, we will give it him as long as he hands us over the head of his older brother.”

“Come fire rain or hailstorms, I will be the next Rezna.” said Yuer instead, blue eyes burning with an unprecedented fire.

Cahail smirked, appearing to like what he saw, “Yes that you will and you will have the Scythe Spiders who will help you make sure you do.”

The Valquari extended his remaining hand toward Yuer and the latter took it in a firm handshake that betrayed his slight and slender figure.

Cahail said through a sinister smirk, “To the Shakoura and to the future Rezna, long may he reign.” He then added, “I will relay our conversation to our head Chief. How can I reach you tomorrow?”

“After the Selection, I will be staying at the Second Reznal’s secondary residence in the Dasrari District. The Malhada and the old Rezas will likely have their rats shadowing the place. It would be more prudent for us to meet elsewhere.”

Cahail nodded, “We have many associates outside of the Undercity, how about a private pavilion at the inner gardens of the ‘Song of Solace’? They can be insulated with Earth Echo.”

“Alright, it’s agreed then.”

Cahail bowed to Yuer one last time and swiftly disappeared into the night, his Shakoura entourage did the same before following behind their superior.

Yuer turned around and headed back to the residence, deciding it's about time he got sleep for the most important candle-hour, awaiting him tomorrow at the harem Selection.