“At least you know this much. But what about you, boy?”
Vir looked away. “I don’t know too much.”
“Then you will learn. King Rayid rules our kingdom—a mediocre monarch at best. And these times do not allow for mediocrity. He has shown weakness against the Kin’jals time and time again, and Imperator Andros Kin’jal IV has expertly exploited it. Corruption and partisanship fracture King Rayid’s court, leaving him powerless to prevent the slow decay of his kingdom. Truly a sad state for the mighty Hiranyan legacy.”
Vir wondered how Riyan came across this information. He doubted even citizens of Daha had access to this level of detail. There was a depth here that couldn’t have come from merely being knowledgeable.
“You’re well informed,” Maiya said, echoing his thoughts.
“I had to be,” Riyan said, neglecting to elaborate. “First Prince Sanobar is a capable heir to the throne. He needs to succeed Rayid if this kingdom is to have any future. Unfortunately, that day may never come to pass. His youngest sister, Mina,” Riyan practically spat her name, his disgust obvious, “may very well have him removed. The girl is a blight.”
Riyan took a deep breath. “Your training will comprise both combat and education about matters of state. As they say, knowledge is power. To be ignorant is to be played a fool. Come, let us depart.”
A half hour’s ride on Riyan’s uncomfortable Ash’va—the beast seemed intent on inflicting pain upon their bums at every step—put them on rolling, grassy hills that gave way to sandy shores. They’d left Neel behind at the home. Riyan’s Ash’va could barely handle the three as it was.
“Is this… the Viridian Coast?” Maiya asked. Vir perked up. The coast had been their original destination before their fateful encounter with the knight.
“No. The Viridian Coast lies west of Brij. This is the Hansa Sea, north of there. Follow the coastline north, and you’ll end up at Saran Bay, and the port city of Saran.
“This will do,” Riyan said, surveying the surroundings.
The three hopped off on top of a grassy hill a few hundred paces away from the Hansa Sea. The breeze that blew in made the weather feel pleasantly cool. Vir and Maiya stood transfixed at the endless expanse of water.
“What? First time seeing the sea?”
“Yes!” Vir and Maiya replied in unison.
“I don’t understand… how?” Maiya said in awe. “How can it be so big?”
Riyan muttered under his breath. He did that a lot.
Vir ignored him. He was just as stunned as his friend, but he saw more than Maiya did. He found an abundance of blue and white coloration coming from the endless expanse of water. The colors still made no sense to him, but he made a note of those colors.
There was another color too: Green, carried by the wind. The colors weren’t really blue, white, or green, just that they were the closest match to the colors he was familiar with. It was easier to see at night, and some places had more of it than others, but he didn’t yet have enough information to piece the puzzle together.
“We are not here to ogle at the sea,” Riyan barked. “Stand back. Observe. And learn.”
The Ghost of Godshollow strode thirty paces away and took up a combat stance.
“What’s he going to do?” Maiya asked.
Vir shook his head. “No clue.”
The sea was an enormous distraction. Through sheer force of will, he focused on Riyan and not the impossibly large body of water.
The colors coming from Riyan helped with that. Riyan was filled with a significant amount of… brownish and white, to a far lesser extent, from what Vir could tell—his new sense had dimmed. It’d been that way ever since the Godshollow.
Maiya was mostly transparent, with a bit of green and a smattering of other colors. As for Vir himself, he saw nothingness within him. Not empty, just that his color was as black as midnight. It felt like he was staring into a deep abyss. He hadn’t seen that color anywhere else.
Riyan jumped… and Maiya and Vir gasped.
His jump could have reached the rooftops of most buildings in Brij, Vir thought with awe. But that wasn’t all. When Riyan had jumped, Vir could’ve sworn he saw something move inside the man’s body. The brown color that filled him seemed to flare for a brief instant. But his sight was too dim and muddled to make out anything more.
The Ghost of Godshollow didn’t stop there. He touched the ground with a cat’s grace before disappearing in front of their very eyes. A moment later, Vir found him, fifteen paces away.
Riyan roared and swung his talwar. Its force was such that it blew away the sand near Riyan, kicking up a mini sandstorm.
Vir blinked, and Riyan had reappeared next to them, his sword already back in its sheath.
Maiya fell onto her bum. Vir somehow maintained his balance.
These were not the acts of a human. They were…
“The Ghost of Godshollow…” Maiya breathed.
“What are you?” Vir asked in awe.
Riyan dusted off his clothing. “Merely human. But I wield the power of Talents.”
“Talents?” Vir asked. “Is that a sort of magic?”
“Not magic. Martial prowess. Not every warrior can learn them, and even the ones who can often spend years mastering these abilities. But those who learn its secrets can stand toe to toe with even a Mejai of Realms. Talents can be used anywhere, so long as the warrior’s boots touch earth.”
“A-are there many warriors who can do what you just did?” Vir asked, hoping the man would say no. He didn’t know if his mind could take it if there were monsters like him running around the world.
“There are,” he said, dashing Vir’s hopes. “Talents are not common, but neither are they rare. What I have shown you are merely the weakest, most widely found Talents. With a sweep of my Talent-empowered blade, I can kill ten soldiers. Others can project their blades, bisecting entire trees in one slice. I can jump and fall from heights that would end most men. I can cover a dozen paces in a single instant. And yet, compared to some out there, I am nothing. There are genuine forces of nature in this world, boy. Beings that transcend reason. And if you believe the tales, demons rule the top of that pyramid.”
“Demons!” Vir asked, remembering the four-armed giant.
“They exist, though they are rare. You certainly won’t see any walking around. They are usually used as laborers in mines on account of their strength. And yet, the strongest recorded warrior in this realm is a human—Andros Kin’jal IV, the Imperator of Kin’jal, with a Balar Rank of 650.”
Maiya gulped. “Then who wields the strongest magic?”
Riyan thought on that. “Most probably the Prime Mejai of the Order of Mejai Sorcar—the headmaster of the Altani Magical Academy. He has never shown the true extent of his power, but some suspect his Balar Rank is well over a thousand. Altani cities are full of such monsters.”
Vir thought it best not to dwell on his own insignificance. “You said that not all warriors could learn Talents, right? Why’s that?”
“No one knows for certain. Perhaps it is a lack of dedication. Perhaps some just lack the blessing of the gods, if you believe those tales.”
Perfect, Vir thought bitterly. From everything he’d seen, he was likely the least ‘blessed’ person in the entire world.
Two hooded figures observed the man and the two teens with spyglasses from a dune some distance away. They lay prone upon the sand, their tan robes camouflaging them.
“Never thought tailing that monster would be so simple…” one of them said.
“Keep your guard up. The moment you underestimate that man is the moment you die. I’ve seen him slaughter entire squads without even blinking.”