It took Jason and Garth a month to reach Hesh, one of Lhazar's three main cities. Afterward, their path led them towards Kosrak.
As they navigated through lands marked by conflict, the reality of the merchant's warnings became apparent; the Dothraki were indeed embroiled in warfare, casting a shadow of unrest across the land.
They even stumbled upon some razed villages on their way to Kosrak. Yet, undeterred, they pressed forward.
Throughout their travel, Jason honed his burgeoning abilities while Garth meticulously documented these developments. He understood the importance of understanding the full scope of Jason's burgeoning talents, recognizing both their potential and the dangers they posed.
They had stopped to rest for a while, and Jason took this opportunity to show off some new techniques he had mastered.
Jason focused his attention on the earth beneath them, coalescing the scattered particles into a sharp, pointed shape. With a gesture, he summoned the object into the air, controlling its movement with his mind. He marveled at his own growing control.
Not far off, a bird caught his eye, and on a whimsical impulse, he decided to startle it with his creation. But to his dismay, the object veered with unnerving accuracy, striking the bird down.
"That was unnecessary, Jason," Garth observed, his tone laced with disappointment.
Jason winced, regret laced his words. "I didn't intend for that... It seemed to lock onto it on its own."
Garth opened his journal and noted down the incident.
"Jason, I've got a proposition," Garth mentioned, tucking his journal into his bag. His gaze fixed on Jason with a look of curiosity. "There's one skill of yours we haven't explored yet."
"The ability to extract memories?" Jason queried, tilting his head slightly.
"Exactly," Garth confirmed. "You managed to pick up the local dialect in Hesh using it."
"Yes, I did.... What do you want to do with it?" Jason's interest piqued.
Garth nodded, his demeanor serious. "What if, instead of drawing out memories, you could share yours with me?"
Jason blinked, taken aback. "Share my memories? Why would you want that?"
Garth pressed on, earnestness threading through his voice. "Imagine if you could let me see your world—the technologies, the marvels you've described, like airplanes, caaars, and what you call the 'intoornoot.'"
Jason corrected automatically, "The internet."
But Garth was undeterred, his expression a blend of longing and frustration. "I want to witness those wonders through your eyes. It's been making me mad, knowing they exist yet being unable to see them. Could your powers allow for that—a reversal of sorts?"
Jason pondered, the weight of Garth's request settling in. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "It could be risky."
Garth met his hesitation with a determined look. "Isn't it worth a try, though?"
Jason hesitated, but the curiosity about whether he could achieve this filled within him.
"Alright," he conceded, rising to his feet, ready to attempt the unknown.
"Truly? You accept?" Garth asked, clearly surprised by Jason's immediate agreement. Given Jason's earlier reservations about using his abilities in Hesh, Garth had braced for some pushback.
"Absolutely, let's give it a shot," Jason affirmed, positioning his hands on either side of Garth's head.
"Wait, Jason, I—" Garth's protest was cut short as Jason initiated the memory transfer. An intense wave of energy suddenly enveloped them, far stronger than either had anticipated. Garth's eyes shot open in shock and began to glow white, a silent cry escaping him as the force of the connection overwhelmed him.
Realizing the danger, Jason quickly severed the link, his heart racing with fear. Garth stumbled backward, and Jason caught him before he could fall.
"Garth, talk to me. Are you okay?" Jason's voice was laced with worry as he steadied his friend.
"My head...it...hurts," Garth managed to say, clutching his temples in a vain attempt to ease the throbbing pain.
Seeing Garth's eyes flutter shut as he slipped into unconsciousness, Jason cursed under his breath.
"Hang in there, Garth. I've got you," he said, with concern in his tone.
With Garth unresponsive, Jason wasted no time. He knew they needed help, and fast. Harnessing his telekinetic abilities, he gently lifted Garth's limp form, creating a cushion of air beneath him.
Grabbing their essential belongings with one hand and ensuring Garth was securely in his telekinetic grasp with the other, Jason set off towards the nearest village, looking for aid.
"Where am I?" Garth's voice was weak, his eyes fluttering open to unfamiliar surroundings. A Lhazareen woman approached, her hands extended in a calming gesture. "Rest now," she gently urged, guiding him back to a lying position.
Garth complied, though confusion clouded his senses. He caught sight of Jason entering the room, relief washing over him at the sight of a familiar face.
"You're going to be okay," Jason assured, taking a seat beside him.
Concern furrowed his brow as he asked, "Do you feel any different?"
Garth paused, a sense of unfamiliarity coursing through him. "I feel...changed. It's hard to explain," he admitted, his fingers massaging his temples.
Jason's expression softened with guilt. "This wasn't supposed to happen, Garth. I'm sorry."
Garth offered a weak smile in response. "It was my idea, Jason. I'm still here, aren't I?" he tried to reassure his friend, despite his own disorientation.
Attempting to rise, Garth listened to the healer's words. He could understand some of it. "What's she saying?" he asked, puzzled.
"She's advising you to rest," Jason translated.
"I just need some air," Garth insisted, pushing himself to stand, albeit unsteadily. Outside, the world seemed different, his perception altered. Walking alongside Jason back to the camp Jason had made, Garth felt a clarity unlike before, his mind buzzing with newfound insights.
As day gave way to night, Garth found himself immersed in a state of heightened awareness. Conversing with the locals in their tongue came effortlessly; he could understand some Lhazareen before, but now it was as if he had lived here all his life.
"It's as though I can recall everything now," he shared with Jason, excitement lacing his voice. "My memory was sharp, but now, it's as if it's expanded."
Jason, trying to keep up, repeated, "Expanded?"
Garth began to explain, his words tumbling out too fast for Jason to follow.
"Garth, slow down!" Jason exclaimed, concern evident in his shout.
Garth halted, catching Jason's worried gaze. "I have so many thoughts, Jason. How can I possibly explore them all?" he pondered aloud, his mind swirling with thoughts.
"You need more rest, Garth," Jason suggested, guiding his friend back to a semblance of calm. He laid Garth on his bedroll and returned to sit on his own.
Eventually, Garth's exhaustion caught up with him, and he succumbed to sleep, leaving Jason alone with his thoughts. The guilt of what had transpired weighed heavily on him, the fear of having irrevocably altered Garth's mind lingering. After a while, he too drifted off to sleep.
The Lhazari village, along with Jason and Garth, was woken up by the thunderous sound of hooves. A sense of dread swept through the air as the villagers hurriedly gathered what few possessions they could.
"What's going on?" Jason asked, looking at the village, which was in a state of chaos.
"The Dothraki," Garth stated grimly, gathering their belongings. "We need to leave. Now."
"But what about the village?" Jason protested, unwilling to abandon those who had shown them kindness.
"We can't help them, Jason," Garth interjected, a hard truth in his voice.
"Like hell we can't," Jason said as he ran towards the village. He could hear Garth calling him. He had spent time with the people there when Garth was unconscious; they had welcomed them and helped them, and he couldn't just leave them to the fate of the razed villages he had seen before.
Jason raced towards the village, his heart pounding in his chest. The early morning mist still clung to the ground, but the scene that unfolded before him was anything but serene.
The Dothraki had already begun their raid, their screams slicing through the quiet. Jason could see the villagers scrambling, a desperate bid for safety against the relentless tide of horsemen who seemed to materialize from the mist itself.
Drawing his sword, he took a deep breath, centering himself amidst the turmoil. His other hand twitched slightly, ready to unleash his kinetic abilities. He didn't have to wait long.
A Dothraki rider, spotting Jason's lone figure, let out a bellowing war cry and charged, arakh gleaming in the rising sun. Jason's response was immediate; his left hand shot out, and a pulse of invisible force struck the horse's legs. The beast stumbled, throwing its rider off balance.
He repeated this with multiple riders around him.
Those who weren't hurt by the fall charged Jason on foot. Jason met them with his sword. Their blades met with a clang of steel, the Dothraki's arakh swinging in a wide arc aimed at Jason's head. He ducked, feeling the rush of air as the blade missed him by inches. With a swift upward motion, Jason's sword found its mark. He quickly disposed of the others and ran towards where the villagers were gathered.
More riders approached, drawn by the commotion. Jason knew he couldn't take them all on in close combat. His gaze flicked to the ground, concentrating on the loose earth and stones. With a sweeping gesture, he sent a wave of debris hurtling towards the incoming Dothraki, knocking them from their mounts and creating a barrier of confusion and dust.
One particularly daring warrior broke through the makeshift barrier, his arakh swinging down in a deadly descent. Jason met the attack with his sword, the impact sending shockwaves up his arm. He pushed back, leveraging his telekinesis to amplify his strength, and the Dothraki was sent flying, crashing into his comrades with enough force to knock them to the ground.
The battle raged on, a chaotic dance of steel, dust, and blood. Jason moved with purpose, his sword an extension of his will, his kinetic abilities allowing him to manipulate the battlefield to his advantage. He created shields of air to deflect arrows, used telekinesis to unbalance his foes, and when necessary, wielded his powers with lethal precision, sending sharp projectiles of rock hurtling towards the Dothraki.
Despite his formidable defense, the Dothraki were relentless. For every rider he felled, two more seemed to take their place, their cries of rage and challenge filling the air. Jason fought with desperation he knew he was the only thing standing between the villagers and their doom.
Jason spotted a man who seemed to be giving out orders. Their eyes locked, and the giant of a man, who had scars crisscrossing his face, rode towards him, looking to end Jason himself.
"Vezhofoonoon anhaan mae yeraan, Andal?" the Dothraki leader bellowed, his voice echoing across the battlefield, his arakh poised for attack.
Jason, gripping his sword tightly, remained silent.
The leader laughed, a sound as harsh as the clash of swords. "Anhaan majin azhat mae vekhat, Andal."
With a fierce cry, the Dothraki leader spurred his horse forward, arakh descending in a lethal arc towards Jason. Jason called upon his kinetic abilities to pull him off his horse.
He quickly recovered and decided to face Jason on foot. He began a display of skill and intimidation, twirling his arakh with deadly precision, a dance of steel meant to unnerve his opponent.
"Anhaan vezhofoon, vekhatar haji athdrivaroon!" he taunted, advancing with the confidence of a seasoned warrior.
Jason stood his ground, watching the display with a calm detachment that only served to infuriate the Dothraki leader further.
As the leader lunged forward, arakh slicing through the air aimed directly at Jason's heart, Jason remained unmoved. He tapped into his kinetic powers. Jason extended his hand, focusing his energy with pinpoint accuracy. The Dothraki leader, caught mid-charge, suddenly found himself immobilized, the force of Jason's power crushing him.
The leader's eyes widened in shock, his mouth open in a silent scream as he realized the futility of his situation. There was no grand clash of steel, no epic battle of warriors—just the quiet, overwhelming assertion of Jason's will.
With a final exertion of his power, Jason ended the threat, the Dothraki leader collapsing under the invisible force. Jason quickly moved to deal with the rest but he was stopped when he heard a familiar voice.
"Jason! Help!"
It was Garth, his voice laced with panic, being dragged away by a Dothraki.
"Garth!" Jason yelled.
In that moment of distraction, a Dothraki warrior took advantage, his heavy boot connecting with Jason's side. The force of the kick sent him stumbling back, crashing through the fragile wall of a burning house.
He hit the ground hard, the air knocked from his lungs, and before he could recover, a large wooden beam from the collapsing structure above fell, pinning him down. Pain flared through his leg, a stark, white-hot sensation that left no room for doubt—his leg was broken.
Fighting through the pain, he tried to get the beam off him, but it was no use. Smoke filled his lungs, disorienting him further, blurring his vision and clouding his thoughts.
'I can't let it end like this,' Jason thought as he drew from a well of strength he hadn't known he possessed. Jason focused on his kinetic abilities.
He envisioned the force he needed, a kinetic blast powerful enough to shatter the weight pinning him down, to tear apart the house that threatened to become his pyre.
With a cry that was more a roar of defiance than anything else, he unleashed his powers. The resulting blast tore through the burning structure, sending splinters and debris flying in all directions. The beam that had trapped him was hurled away, and the flames were momentarily blown back.
Jason dragged himself out of the ruins, pure adrenaline fueling him, his broken leg dragging uselessly behind him. The battle was not yet won. The Dothraki, though many had retreated, still posed a threat as those who stayed behind to secure the retreat regrouped for another charge.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Jason raised his hands towards the remaining Dothraki warriors. His powers, though diminished from the exertion and his injuries, responded to his call. With a final, desperate effort, he sent a wave of kinetic energy towards the enemy, crushing their resolve along with their bones.
As the last of the Dothraki fell, silence descended on the battlefield, broken only by the crackle of fire and the labored breaths of the wounded. Jason's strength ebbed away, his vision dimming as he collapsed.
The remaining villagers, who had watched in awe and terror, now emerged from their hiding places. Though fear still gripped their hearts, gratitude and a sense of duty propelled them forward. They ran to Jason's side. As Jason lay unconscious, the villagers worked together to carry him away from the smoldering ruins.
When Jason once again regained consciousness, his senses were immediately assaulted by the acrid smell of smoke and the distant cries of pain and despair.
His eyes fluttered open.
"Ugh, what happened?" Jason groaned, pushing himself up with considerable effort. Every movement sent waves of pain coursing through his body, but it was the throbbing in his leg that screamed the loudest.
"You're awake," a familiar voice said, a mix of relief and worry lacing the tone.
Turning his head, Jason saw a figure—a silhouette that gradually took the form of the healer, one of the few who had survived the raid.
"How long was I out?" Jason asked, squinting against the brightness of the day.
"Not long," the healer replied.
Jason looked at his leg.
"You heal quickly... too quickly for a man... Are you a god?Did the great shepard sent you" the healer asked quietly.
Jason ignored her question's and stared at his leg.
'So that's one more to add to my growing list of powers,' he thought.
"Garth," he said abruptly, the memory of his friend reigniting a fire within him. "They took him. I have to find him."
The villager's face fell, a shadow of despair passing over her features. "The Dothraki... they took many."
Ignoring the pain, Jason steadied himself, determination setting in. "I have to go."
"But you are still injured," the healer said, trying to stop him.
"I am fine," Jason said as he went outside.
As he navigated through the rubble, surveying the remnants of what was once a vibrant community, his attention was caught by a solitary figure—a Dothraki warrior, battered but alive. He was tied up to a pole.
"We found him alive," the healer said, pointing at the tied-up Dothraki.
An idea sparked in his mind, a way to gain an advantage.
Approaching the Dothraki, Jason knelt beside him, his presence causing the warrior to stir.
"Where have they taken the captives?" Jason demanded, his voice firm, leaving no room for refusal.
The Dothraki warrior remained silent.
Jason put his hand on his head, his intent clear. Leveraging the little energy he had left to tap into the warrior's mind, he began the memory extraction. The process was draining, but in the end, he could do what any Dothraki could do now.
"Thank you for your help," Jason replied in Dothraki.
"How?" the Dothraki uttered just before Jason snapped his neck with his powers.
He hastily mounted a horse that belonged to one of the many dead Dothraki scattered around the village , the basics of riding now clear in his mind thanks to the extracted memories.
"I'll bring them back," Jason promised, more to himself than to the villagers watching him prepare to leave.
As he rode off, the village became a blur behind him, his focus singular: to rescue Garth and the other captives if he could from the Dothraki.
