Trunoc roughly sat on the bed in the temple; the monks had offered him a free bed and he readily took it. Today was the toughest day of training he had, but it was also the most beneficial. He had been learning the first steps of harnessing qi from the monks for a week. Today it had all paid off as he was finally able to feel the qi congregate in his body. The monks and Trunoc rejoiced when this had happened. His next step required him to control it, but that was easier said than done. Some people had an easier time with actually controlling the qi than feeling and becoming aware of it, and for others, it was vice versa.

 

Trunoc lay in bed, taking a break. It was currently midday and he could hear the mingling of voices and shouts, footsteps and horse hooves, and the clattering and rustling of various goods and people. He could suddenly feel his eyelids become heavy. He yawned and closed his eyes, and his consciousness slowly began to slip. 

 

All of a sudden, an explosion shook the temple. The shouts and screams of people could be heard. Trunoc immediately bounced out of bed. He ran out the door of his room and into the main hall, swiftly exiting the main doorway of the temple. He immediately saw the cause of the problem. Two stone buildings were burning across the street. One was significantly more damaged than the other. If Trunoc recalled correctly the heavily damaged building was an alchemist’s shop, while the less damaged building was the church of one of the colonor gods. 

 

The monks were soon also out of the temple. They took swift glances at each other before immediately rushing to the site of the disaster. Trunoc followed them. The monks immediately went inside both buildings. Their skin and lungs were developed by the qi techniques they practiced which enabled them to withstand the heat and smoke. Trunoc could only provide immediate aid to those outside the building.

 

Trunoc approached a woman who had a jagged gash across her leg. She was sitting and holding it while she yelped in pain. He tore his robe and wrapped a piece around her leg. She continued to cry, but that was all he could do as he moved on to the next person. He continued this for well over an hour, even after the emergency help had arrived. The city guards were soon crowding the place, and healers from the Mages Guild were actively treating people.

 

…

 

Trunoc and the monks finally sat down after working at their best for over an hour. They sat against the wall of a building across the street. Trunoc was breathing heavily, as thoughts of his time as a soldier flashed before his eyes. It was the only time in his life that he had seen carnage like this. Trunoc just looked down blankly at the road. The other monks also had glossy and pale looks in their eyes. Soot covered their faces and clothes and a few of them had scratches and gashes on their faces. All of them had several blood splatters on their robes. Trunoc was also covered in blood himself and was missing his entire robe along with several pieces of his clothes which were torn off. His skin and the several scars that he had picked up as a hunter and soldier became visible.

 

After a little while the healers had finished healing most of the victims and moved on to Trunoc and the monks. A small blond girl with almond-colored eyes approached Trunoc. She was one of the healers. He looked up at her and saw that tears were streaming down her face. He felt bad for the young girl who probably wasn’t any older than 18. It was more than likely the first time she had seen something as horrible as this. The girl knelt in front of him and asked him through various sniffles and a raspy voice, “A-are you hurt?”

 

Trunoc just shook his head. The girl nodded and got back up. Before she left, Trunoc opened his mouth and said, “You are doing a magnificent thing for these people. They will spend their entire lives thanking you. Trust me, it will all be okay.” Trunoc said these words in the most sincere way possible. He hardly ever comforted people, especially strangers, but for some reason, he did it this time. Maybe the effects of the monks’ kindness, or the fact the girl was pretty.

 

The girl sniffled and her complexion slightly eased. “O-okay.” She turned around and went to help the other wounded. 

 

Trunoc turned back around to face the monks and saw they had mostly regained their composure. They were wiping the soot from their faces. He asked the monks if they were doing okay. They all just nodded. Trunoc sighed and observed the destroyed shop and damaged church. Water and ice mages had long put out the fire, and now charred stone and burnt wood was all that remained of the shop. A large hole was in the side of the church, where the alchemist shop had resided. 

 

Trunoc’s mind eventually recovered from the shock of the situation. He began to think of the now-pressing problem: How did this happen? He immediately thought that it was probably an accident on the part of the alchemist, but it was a really large explosion and most potion-making accidents that he had heard of were not this bad. This led to the other options of foul play. The alchemist could have purposely made the explosion or magic could have caused the explosion. Many factors had to be considered. Trunoc’s mind began to hurt, thinking of all the possible causes so he sat his head back against the wall and almost immediately fell asleep. The exhausting day had finally caught up to him. He was so distracted and tired that he didn’t even notice the royal figure that was surveying the damages.

 

…

 

As Trunoc was helping those amidst the carnage, the King of the island of Mistmout was sitting atop his throne, listening to the several menial reports coming in. His name was Volsun the Receptive. He was very much a diplomatic king and was a good administrator too. However, he was beginning to tire as the reports of simple and boring things continued to appear in front of his eyes. Suddenly, the doors of his throne room burst open. Volsun felt anger well up at this display of blatant disrespect, but he saw the pale face of the messenger and, realizing that something was wrong, immediately felt the anger leave as quickly as it came.

 

“I greet King Volsun.” The lanky servant quickly kneeled.

 

“Thank you, Leidolf. Now what is the urgent matter? It seems important, so please speak quickly.” Volsun ordered.

 

“Yes, King.” Leidolf quickly continued. “There was an explosion in the city center, naught but fifteen minutes ago. It seems to have originated from an alchemist’s shop, the casualties and total damages are unknown.” Leidolf always gave all the important details that were necessary at the time.

 

Volsun sat in silence for a minute before a determined expression appeared across his face, “Alert the mages guild and the city guards, if they haven’t been already. I must see the damage. Prepare the royal guard for my departure, also have the guards put the city on lockdown until we figure out the cause.” Volsun hoped that this was just a freak accident and not an attack of some kind.

 

It took a long time for the royal guard to get ready and depart with the King. They arrived about forty minutes after the explosion had happened. As Volsun approached, he could make out the site of the explosion. Buildings were scorched all around a pile of rubble. Stones, bricks, and pieces of wood scattered the street. A man, who was whimpering on a stretcher, was being taken by two healers to probably undergo surgery.  He also observed some monks helping the wounded, and specifically a man who was covered in blood, while wearing torn clothing. 

 

Volsun could see that a few dozen people were injured and some even lay, unmoving. The alchemist’s shop was completely destroyed, not leaving much in the way of investigation. The captain of the guard, Hakohl, soon approached him. Hakohl bowed and said, “I greet King Volsun.”

 

Volsun nodded and responded. “Thank you.” He quickly asked, “Have you discovered anything, yet?” He looked at Hakohl with a hopeful expression. He hoped that it wasn’t foul play and that it was just an accident.

 

“I questioned some witnesses and victims who all gave some information.” He said. “All said that the explosion originated from inside the alchemist’s shop. I am unsure if there was anybody inside the shop at the time. Nobody reported anything strange outside of the explosion.” The captain was clear and straight to the point. Volsun couldn’t help but sigh. “On a more positive note, my King. I have received several reports that the six monks sitting against the wall over there,” Hakohl nodded to six men in various states of injury, thought, and consciousness, “were some of the first people on the scene to help. They were seen going into the burning rubble and the church to retrieve people. They also were seen carrying injured away from the fire and performing first aid on the victims. It is my recommendation to give them awards and honors for their heroic acts.” The captain bowed to show his sincerity. 

 

Volsun was slightly surprised. He didn’t know much about the small temple or the god that they worshipped, but he hadn’t expected them to be so heroic. He would definitely reward them somehow, but now he had to focus on figuring out the cause of the explosion. He walked to the burned remains of the alchemist’s shop and observed all the minute details. “We need to start sifting through the remains of this shop as soon as possible,” Volsun said while facing the rubble. “Also, have someone question those that were the most seriously wounded, the ones that were taken away for further medical care. It is of the utmost importance that we figure out what happened here.”

 

Hakohl nodded, “Yes, my King. Thy will be done.” Hakohl then ran off to complete the given tasks. Volsun could only stand in silence, praying and hoping that it was an accident. He didn’t want to have to wage a war of any kind. He had never enjoyed bloodshed and was repulsed by it. If anymore came out of this situation, he would be utterly devastated.

 

…

A few days had passed since the explosion. Trunoc was meditating, trying to control the chaotic qi in his body. It was hard to focus and concentrate on the qi since the explosion, so moments where he could were rare. Unfortunately, his mind soon wandered and his concentration broke. He sighed and looked up. He was thinking about the events that directly happened after the temple had exploded. 

 

…

 

Trunoc had woken up in his bed at the temple. He presumed that he was carried there by one of the monks. He immediately got up and went to find Skjold. If he had any questions about Beithioch, the temple, the monks, or other matters, he would go to Skjold. Trunoc knocked on the door to Skjold’s room and soon heard his voice, “Come in!” Trunoc obliged and walked in. Before he could even ask a question, Skjold spoke. “Are you wondering why we, followers of the bestial god, helped and how we were so decisive?” 

 

Trunoc smiled. Skjold had a very good intuition for Trunoc’s questions. “Yes. Beithioch gives off the feeling of a balancing force and not necessarily a god of pure good that would encourage his subordinates to help strangers.” Trunoc explained his question further and his own thoughts.

 

Skjold chuckled and explained, “Beithioch certainly gives off that feeling, but the reason we helped was probably much like your own.” Skjold smiled as if he was about to reveal something. “We helped mainly because it felt like the right thing to do. We are humans and often have a tendency to help each other in times of distress.” 

 

Trunoc wasn’t expecting that answer and raised his eyebrows. He pondered for a moment. “Well, I guess that makes sense.”

 

Skjold once again spoke. “And to correct your misconception about Beithioch; while yes he is the god of the predator and the prey and is often seen as a violent god, he is also the god of the herd and even instincts. He will applaud us when we act on our instincts, that’s why we can be so decisive and help in those situations.” Skjold said this as if educating a child in morals. 

 

Trunoc listened quietly. His misconceptions about this god of beasts were being broken down in this decisive moment. He would often be surprised at the versatility of this god when he asked Skjold about him. He conversed with Skjold for a few more minutes before heading back to his room.

 

Trunoc entered his room and sat on his bed. He needed to clear his head and meditate. It was also a good time to practice meditating and controlling the qi within his body. He closed his eyes and sat in a cross-legged position. He breathed in a specific way that the monks had taught him. This would help him to control the qi. 

 

After a few moments of trying to focus, Trunoc could finally visualize the qi within his body. The qi appeared as a floating and constantly moving, light brown energy in a dark space. Skjold had told him that the space was a sort of spatial dimension within his own body. Skjold and the monks called this space the ‘qi stomach’, although other groups who practiced with qi called it many different things. Skjold also told him that the color of people’s qi appeared differently to different people. He and most followers of Beithioch have a light brown color of qi, a color often associated with Beithioch. 

 

After Trunoc was able to visualize the qi and the qi stomach, he tried to pacify the qi with commands. The qi didn’t listen and continued to swim about meaninglessly. He used all his willpower to make the qi listen, sweat began to pour from his body. He concentrated and focused his will on to the qi, hoping that it would become calm. He did this for hours, but it was fruitless. He eventually depleted his energy and the qi stomach disappeared from his vision.

 

Trunoc fell onto his bed and almost immediately fell asleep due to mental exhaustion. 

 

…

 

Suddenly Trunoc woke up, covered in sweat. He looked around and slowly scanned his surroundings. The bed that he was on when he fell asleep was gone, replaced by luscious green grass. He noticed the wooden walls that made up his room were completely gone. What replaced the scene of his room was a large field of green, with red and yellow flowers dotting the field, like stars in the sky. The day was overcast and the sun wasn’t visible, giving an ominous vibe. He felt slightly confused, but also extremely calm.

 

Suddenly, Trunoc had a horrible feeling, a memory that was long repressed exploded forth. The field rapidly transformed. The flowers were replaced by the weapons of fallen knights and soldiers, and the grass had become a sea of bodies and blood. No life could be seen beyond the death that covered the field.

 

Trunoc began to breathe heavily. A wave of panic and memory began crashing against his mental defenses. He remembered this day. A day that had gone down in history as a loss for both sides involved, a day of death and sadness. It was the battle of Alfraye’s Pass. The single deadliest battle of the most recent noble conflict of the nations to the west. A day of reckless bloodshed, where tactics and strategy were thrown to the wind and brute force was favored. Many lives were changed on this day, including his own.

 

Suddenly, as Trunoc was shivering in sheer terror, a sign of movement was seen among the bodies. This brought Trunoc out of his trance and his panic was partially subdued. He noticed that the movement was a deer; its brown fur starkly contrasted the greyscale of the dead that was its backdrop. The deer preused the bodies as if looking for something, or someone. The deer soon stopped, seeming to have found what it was searching for. It reached down and tugged at the collar of one of the bodies, slowly dragging the body into a nearby forest. 

 

Trunoc wasn’t sure what to think of the sight, all he knew was what would happen next, and the fact that the body the deer was dragging was his own. He vividly remembered waking up after the battle in a forest. Leaves were wrapped around his open wounds and he was in a state of shock and bewilderment after the battle. Only a few moments after waking up in the forest, he heard the voice of an elderly man flow into his mind. 

 

“Dear child. Go to the east and seek out the temple of Beithioch, my temple.” the man continued. “Only death and needless bloodshed await you here. Now hurry, the balance of man and beast, of kings and peasants, and predator and prey needs to be altered.” The wispy voice was gone just as easily as it had appeared.

 

Suddenly as Trunoc was reminiscing about Beithioch’s call, he awoke from his slumber. He opened his eyes to see one of the younger monks shaking him and asking, “Trunoc! Trunoc! Are you okay!?”

 

Trunoc groggily opened his mouth, “I am fine, Iorund.” He dispelled the concern of Iorund.

 

Iorund sighed, “Thank Beithioch. You were sweating and tossing and turning, it seemed like a bad nightmare.” 

 

Trunoc answered, “Sorry. It wasn’t anything too severe.” He wasn’t really ready to share his experiences, even though he had come to view the monks as his friends.

 

“Great!” The young, bald monk smiled, then quickly transitioned. “Anyways, the king has requested the presence of the six of us, so I suggest you clean yourself up and change your clothes,” Iorund said as he looked at the sweat-stained monk’s robe that he was wearing.

 

“Ah. I will.” Trunoc looked down and observed the now dirty robes. He had received the robe from the monks after tearing his up when helping the wounded from the explosion. Trunoc then looked back at the monk and said, “Now, what does the King want with us?” 

 

Iorund shrugged, “I have no idea.” Then continued. “Anyways, hurry up and change, we are going to leave soon.” Iorund rushed him in a slight manner. He was the monk who had the least patience but was also nice and provided Trunoc with necessary guidance when he needed it. 

 

Iorund left the room, leaving Trunoc alone. He quickly began to change his clothes, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the vivid nightmare he had. He wondered what the meaning of reliving that experience was. After pondering for a while he ultimately just shrugged his shoulders, and thought, ‘I will have to consult Skjold about it.’ He wasn’t too keen on opening up about his past, but the dream definitely felt related to Beithioch. He also needed to understand why he went back to that day in his dreams.

 

Trunoc quickly shook these thoughts from his mind and left the room. His mind was still in a non-optimal state to realize that this would be his first encounter with one of the five kings of the five colonor kingdoms. Only meaningless thoughts fluttered around in his head.