Nebud is foolish! y attack Fajaromoh when you are not ready. he can't even use spectra! he wants to go and attack someone with the full range of spectra, and pious at his whimps.

ike gwuru!!!

Nebud is stubborn, eager to rage and easy to pick a fight.

why not follow the white trail and check whether it leads to what he wants most(wealth of lahooni).. fighting Fajahromo won't be a wise decision..

well if Nebud is fatally wounded during the cause of the fight, I might consider lobbying for the position of the next Kaiser of Lahooni

Salutations Nobel one for the update

What has come over Nebud? Does he really he could defeat Fajagromo? Musa had better talk some sense into his thick skull. I cant wait to know about that white trail and what it holds.

Thanks for the updates obehid my phone had spoilt since last month and I just got a New one dats why av not been commenting sibce& am glad to see that no one missed me or asked of me

ayshow6102:
Thanks for the updates obehid my phone had spoilt since last month and I just got a New one dats why av not been commenting sibce& am glad to see that no one missed me or asked of me

LOL...

All this reads for what? Another foolishness.

Nebud is not an ideal character. All it does is notice minute details both relevant and irrelevant yet it does nothing with those details.

It feels it is smart but damn it is too far from it. The most dumbest of all the uspecs in this tale.

Obehid please, I know I have mentioned this before but pardon me again. There are too many detailing of irrelevant items here, such as the building, the chain in the uspec's neck, the colour of an eye e.t.c. Kindly reduce them and give us action, that is what I have been waiting for and have gotten little of. Only Nebud's time in the pit and Arexon's part have been intriguing.

Too much details dulls a story.

Thank you.

@Ultimategeneral that is a good point, but you have to remember that Fajahromo has the ring that's Nebud's birthright, and it's currently searching for the coffer among Takabat's rooms. And the coffer is pretty important, Nebud can't just let Fajahromo take it. Is it risky for Nebud to try to attack it now? Yes. Will it succeed? I don't know, but sometimes, you have to do things even when you're not prepared because you don't have time to waste, and that's where Nebud's mind is. It doesn't want Fajahromo to find the coffer, or its connection to the Kaisers of Lahooni.

@Omittesb I do agree that Nebud is stubborn and eager to pick a fight, but I don't think that's the motivation for this one. Like I explained to Ultimategeneral, time is of the essence here. As far as Nebud knows, Takabat has its secrets hidden in one of the room-vaults and Nebud needs to stop Fajahromo before it finds it. Is it dangerous? Probably, but what in life isn't?

@tunjilomo Does Nebud think it could defeat Fajahromo? I don't know, but it knows that time is of the essence. Especially when Fajahromo already has the ring. Who knows what Fajahromo could do with that ring...

@ayshow6102 LOL, don't worry I missed you I'm sorry your phone got spoiled, but I'm happy you were able to get a new one

@Fazemood Is Nebud dumb? I don't know if that's the word I'd use to describe it. Arrogant, definitely, proud, annoying, brash, but dumb...well, I'm biased though, anyway, as to the details, I think it's really to each their own. I see you're a fan of action well there's definitely action coming up, but not everyone who reads reads for action. I know that I'm not really a huge fan of the fighting and killing (I don't know why there's so much of that in this story ). And I think the details are important. It's hard with something that I've been posting for this long, to really see how all the details connect. I think that's the one big drawback with posting a book like this piecemeal, because the details matter, but it's rarely ever obvious right there, why that detail is important, but it comes back.

obehiD:


@Fazemood Is Nebud dumb? I don't know if that's the word I'd use to describe it. Arrogant, definitely, proud, annoying, brash, but dumb...well, I'm biased though, anyway, as to the details, I think it's really to each their own. I see you're a fan of action well there's definitely action coming up, but not everyone who reads reads for action. I know that I'm not really a huge fan of the fighting and killing (I don't know why there's so much of that in this story ). And I think the details are important. It's hard with something that I've been posting for this long, to really see how all the details connect. I think that's the one big drawback with posting a book like this piecemeal, because the details matter, but it's rarely ever obvious right there, why that detail is important, but it comes back.

@ bolded... Really? I don't think so, not after what you gave us in Osazele's story. You are definitely a fan of fighting and most definitely slaying c'mon Obehid; who are trying to sweet talk right now? Abeg abeg make I hear! You that killed many characters in Our wolf pack, even killed that gay boy(what's his name again?)that loves oyibo boy, and osazele's entire village. Chai see madam Obehid o. Shift let me see clearer

Look if I don't see actions in our story, walahi no sharwama and coke for you this Xmas. Try me and see

Fazemood:

@ bolded... Really? I don't think so, not after what you gave us in Osazele's story. You are definitely a fan of fighting and most definitely slaying c'mon Obehid; who are trying to sweet talk right now? Abeg abeg make I hear! You that killed many characters in Our wolf pack, even killed that gay boy(what's his name again?)that loves oyibo boy, and osazele's entire village. Chai see madam Obehid o. Shift let me see clearer

Look if I don't see actions in our story, walahi no sharwama and coke for you this Xmas. Try me and see

LOL, I'm actually not a fan of fighting or slaying, those scenes are actually pretty hard for me to write. Like, it's not as easy as writing the day to day drama and just normal interactions. I'm not a fan of fighting, I just write what the story demands, not necessarily what I like to read.

Part 3
-------

Perhaps I had been spoilt by the luxuries of the world which I now inhabited, but I found nothing truly awing about the room-vault. It was nothing but a sparsely furnished room. I grudgingly admitted that it did have the finest lounging beds that I had ever seen, these lounging beds being much wider than those usually contained in the entertaining rooms. I found a large counter in the middle of the room. The counter was lower than those in the main hall of the mausoleum. It was circular, with parts of the center cut out to resemble the Cormeum.

Two things happened at once.

First, the room filled with a chill. It was as if I was suddenly standing outside underneath the falling hail. A cold breeze swept into the room, carried on the backs of drifting fog. Fog and hail made for a terrible combination. I frowned, thinking about it. I had been outdoors in this burg, but I had never felt the combination of hail and fog as acutely as I felt this.

My head snapped up and I realized why I felt the breeze so keenly. That was when I also noted the second change in the room. The room was naturally lit by pure, dazzling streams of orange light.

Musa had found another opening to the room. I walked, shivering as I approached the parted wall. As I got closer to the opening, the chill became more severe, prompting me to pull the ends of my cloak closer towards me. I held the lapels tight as I continued to edge forward, unable to resist the beckoning of the exposed scenery.

It was not till that moment that I realized what it meant to own a room-vault at the top-most layer of the tallest dwelling in the entire burg.

“It is beautiful.” I spoke through chattering teeth which inevitably distorted the words I said.

But it truly was beautiful. It was so beautiful that I remained in the same spot, freezing, without paying too much attention to the discomfort. The entire burg was laid out in its full splendor before us. I’d seen maps of this place, so many different maps for so many different labyrinths, but there was nothing like seeing it all together as I did at that moment. From my vantage point I had a clear view of the rest of the mausoleum underneath me. I counted four different labyrinths, around the petals surrounding the Cormeum.

The Cormeum was the center of the burg. It was the first labyrinth which was built. All others were built around that first one, starting with the petals, and then the labryinths that bordered the burg. There was something so magnificent about seeing the Cormeum from this viewpoint. All I knew about the Cormeum was that it was home to the sovereign of this burg, and considered to be the one place in the entire port, which could not be breached. Looking down on it as I did, I could easily see how the maze of roads on each petal, led finally to the Cormeum, the bud in the center.

Another area caught my eyes.

Nefastu, it was called, the forbidden road. Most ports had strong impenetrable borders which could only be breached through the inter-port trail. Damejo was one of the most notable exemptions to this norm. I could not say how it came to be, but the Kaiser of this port had allowed for a connection to be made between its port and the Isle of shuns, the place where all shunned uspecs were remanded. The road from Damejo to the Isle of shuns was accessible by all uspecs, but it was deserted, as all thought it ill-luck to be close to those who were shunned. There was also the practical aspect of shunned uspecs being desperate to add others to their shame. I had read several tales of uspecs foolish enough to wander onto Nefastu. Those uspecs were set upon by shuns they likened to maddened beasts. Needless to say, when the shunned were done with them, the uspecs became shunned too. Only fools walked down Nefastu.

When at long last, my ogling ceased, I noticed that the air was not as chilled as it had been when I walked in. In fact, it appeared no cooler than the main hall in the mausoleum. I frowned, wondering how this had come to be. Musa must have read the confusion in my expression because it said,

“There are sealed packs of slush, master.” It said as an explanation.

I turned then, taking note of a covered bucket by the wall. I remembered reading something to the effect of how slush was created. I did not find it a particularly intriguing tale, but I knew that slush was made from hail, infused with the magic of spectra and pansophy, so that when it made contact with a special type of dust, it created an inferno. I looked down to see slits on the ground, and underneath these slits, a crimson inferno raged.

I smiled. Perhaps this room-vault was more spectacular than it appeared at first sight. My perusal completed, I walked back towards a lounging bed and collapsed onto it. Musa reclined with a more dignified composure. My study of the imp intensified as I noted the harried way in which it tapped the lounging bed beside it. Its feet shuffled impatiently against the ground, and its gaze kept darting back to the door through which we had entered into the room.

“Are you alright?” I drawled.

The imp’s empty sockets snapped over to me. It jumped to its feet then and began to pace. “Did you hear all that the attendant said master? About the ring? Fajahromo has already found it! It seeks to steal that which belongs to the heir of Lahooni! And if it finds out the identity of the heir before we do? The heir will be finished. We must do something, master, we have no time to waste.”

“What do you propose we do?” I asked calmly, slightly amused by the imp’s angst. It had always presented a calm and controlled veneer to me.

It turned on me. “I don’t know! Something master.” It ran over to me then and knelt on the floor, by my lounging bed. “Please master, please! Fight for my young master as you have for others, and you will be rewarded. I swear it by Sada!”

I had never heard Musa swear by Sada. How had it managed to appear so composed throughout our journey here. It was killing it to do nothing. “Did your former masters own a room-vault?”

The question seemed to have caught the imp off guard. It frowned. “Yes, master.” It replied cautiously.

I was not sure why I had asked, especially since I already had the answer. I was no one else’s heir, so the white trail had to be from the line of the Kaisers of Lahooni. What had they left me? “What do they keep there?” I asked.

The imp frowned. “What does this have to do with the young master?”

I shrugged.

It sighed. “I do not know master. I was never brought here. Chike accompanied master Calami once, I think. No other uspec of that line brought an imp here.”

There was something about the tone in the imp’s voice. Was it pained? It sounded somewhat resentful. No, I shook my head, that was not the right word. Offended? Hurt. Had it requested to be brought here and then had that request denied? This was the first time that Musa had given me any reason to believe that life between it and its previous masters of my line, was anything but perfectly harmonious. I stored that somewhere in my mind. “Why don’t you go and find the food the attendant hinted at. I am starved.”

“Master!” it cried out, its arms flying up in exasperation. “We cannot let Fajahromo discover the young master’s identity. Can’t you see how much is at stake? The honor of a prestigious line could be ruined if an uspec, such as you hint at Fajahromo being, controls Lahooni. And Fajahromo could control Lahooni, if it finds the heir before I do.”

There was absolutely no chance of that happening. “There is nothing we can do until Fajahromo’s search reaches this layer. I only have access to the layer that I purchased a room-vault in. Unless you know a way to use pansophy to change this?” Musa shook its head. “Then busy yourself,” I ordered, “find us fresh food. It will take your mind of situations that you cannot change.”

Musa rose from the floor with a humph and stormed out of the room. I noted as it left, that the door did not need the key to open from the inside. It was as all others are in that respect. I rose then, glad to have the room to myself. The imp’s worrying got to me. I did not like seeing my ring on Fajahromo’s finger. I did not like how close it had gotten to my secret. I did not like anything about the situation that I had walked into. If only I could have come sooner. But now that I was here, I would confront Fajahromo, and once I did? I shook my head. Fajahromo had the full range of spectra. All I had were eyes that I could not use. I had seen Fajahromo use spectra. It was quite skilled at it. And that had been over a year ago. If I could turn myself into a banneret in that time, I shuddered to think of what Fajahromo could do.

A knock on the door pulled my attention to it.

I walked over and opened it, placing my hand on the hard fog. It drifted away, exposing one pouting imp and a coffer whose top surface was covered with food.

“Your meal, master.” Musa said sullenly, walking into the room.

I ignored it, choosing instead to pick up the platters and transfer them, one after the other to the counter. There was also a pitcher of chilled purple wine, and a single glass goblet.

I inclined an eyebrow as I turned to stare at the imp. “Are you not eating?” I asked.

“How can one eat at a moment when time is so crucial?”

The food was pleasing. There was a stew made out of a type of meat that I could not place. The stew had grains in it, adding a bit of texture to what would ordinarily have had the consistency of liquid. I tore off a chunk of bread and dipped it into the stew. My taste buds exploded with the infusion of flavors. Filling my goblet with purple wine, I watched the imp’s pacing. It continued to shift between staring pleadingly at me, glaring at me, and then looking at the door.

“I will go and see if Fajahromo has reached this floor.” It stated, walking towards the door as it uttered the words.

The cake was delicious. It had fruits embedded into it, and chunks of meat. I smiled snuffing down the entire cake. By the time Musa knocked at the door, the meal was finished. It did not seem to care, as it shook its head at me, informing me of the futility of its search, an event I could have predicted, before walking past me into the room. It slumped onto the lounging bed, dropping its head into its hands. “What if we do not find it? What if all of this is for nothing? What if it never comes to this layer? Maybe we should go back to the main hall and await it there.”

“What will you do when we find it?” I asked, starting to get irritated by the imp’s behavior. “Will you, for the first time since I’ve met you, actually attack an uspec? You did not do it when an uspec stabbed you in Katsoaru, or when Arexon threatened to have you sent to Aurelion. If you did nothing then, what do you hope to do to Fajahromo when we approach it?”

The imp stared at me, suddenly at a loss for words.

I sighed, shaking my head. “That is what I thought.” I mumbled, sprawling fully on my bed. It was not long till I found myself asleep, chased into slumber by my own inability to answer the same question that I had asked the imp. What would I do when I found Fajahromo?

Luckily, as fate would have it, both of us were granted more time to consider our answers. Days passed, and in those days, there was no sign of Fajahromo. On the third day, Musa had the brilliant idea to bribe an imp to let us know when the uspec appeared. It took a piece of merit to buy the imp’s silence and another piece to get its agreement. After that, Musa and I were able to relax our watches. We still took regular walks around the layer, but the spacing between those walks lengthened. Whatever imp was on duty would let us know when Fajahromo appeared. I had promised to pay a piece of merit to that imp, if it was different from the other imp we’d dealt first with. In all, I concluded that bribing was indeed a tenuous affair, but it yielded results.

After ten fruitless days, the message came.

Musa and I had begun to despair. Takabat bought thirteen out of twenty of the most expensive vault-rooms in the mausoleum. Surely, it had done this for a reason. And if it had not, Fajahromo, must at least be curious to find out what had driven Takabat to make such a bargain.

On the eleventh day, the answer came.

We were in the middle of our meal, a delicious serving of mashed grain morsels dipped in etku sautéed nama herb sauce, when we heard the scratching sound. Musa froze, its mouth opened wide to receive the brown morsel. Unbelievingly, we both turned with wide eyes to the door, holding our breaths as we waited for the sound to be repeated.

Seconds passed before the sound was repeated, a very distinct scratching, followed by a loud thump. The morsel fell from Musa’s hand. We both jumped to our feet at the same time. Running faster, Musa reached the door before I did. It placed its hand against the hard fog, and we both waited as the fog softened and then drifted away.

The imp standing on the other side of the door was one that I had not seen before, but it wore the uniform of the imps that served in the mausoleum. “The duke just appeared on this floor moments ago, domina. It is searching the room-vault that is closest to the cleaning room.”

I pulled a piece of merit out of my belt and handed it over to the imp. It bowed, grateful for the promise kept, and then withdrew.

I walked out of the room, took a few steps away from the door and then turned around.

“No.” I said, shaking my head as I watched Musa’s attempt to follow me.

It frowned.

“Wait for me, Musa. I know Fajahromo, it will go better if I am alone.” In all the days that I had spent preparing for Fajahromo’s arrival, the only step I had made towards making a plan was deciding that Musa could not be with me.

“Why?”

“Just trust me Musa.”

“This is my mission, master.” It snapped. I heard the sting of fury in each word that it uttered. “You cannot keep me away from it.”

“Your mission is finding your heir, not questioning Fajahromo. If you want my help to complete your mission, then you will do as I say.” I snapped back at it, the fury in my tone matching the imp’s.

I saw something in the imp’s gaze. Was it hate? Perhaps, although I could not conceive of Musa hating me. It was anger, and it did have the right to that. I was after all, not telling it the truth.

I was beginning to suspect that Fajahromo knew a great deal more about my true identity than I was willing to reveal to the imp.

Musa walked back into the room-vault and the fog hardened between us.

My heart was pounding so hard that I could swear I heard it. I took a deep breath, wrapped my hand around the hilt of my cutlass, and then walked in the direction of the cleaning room, to the room-vault that the mausoleum imp had mentioned.

Na Wa Ooh... someone who could not use spectra, let alone create an okun wants to fights someone with the full range, and skilled in it kwa.
hmm..well, except it want to take by surprise. then I haven't read fagaromoh fight before. since he have emotion, lets see how far he can go with it.

obehiD:


LOL, I'm actually not a fan of fighting or slaying, those scenes are actually pretty hard for me to write. Like, it's not as easy as writing the day to day drama and just normal interactions. I'm not a fan of fighting, I just write what the story demands, not necessarily what I like to read.

Okay, I have heard. But still try and bring action that kind of stories sells more than the others

Nebud is funny, it was the one who actually instigated waiting for fajarhomo in ambush then attacking it why then did it speak like Musa made a blunder by repeating what it said earlier?

What can Nebud really do? It always moves then end up being used in the end or turned into a swam. This needs better than risk to achieve success. It needs real power, Nebud ought to learn spectra, fill its outer sockets, gain better control over Okun magic then tell Musa what its true identity is. This way it will be a match. A fight of equal strenght. You can't expect a child to win an adult in a head to head face off.

Nebuds needs good strategizing if it wants to comfront Fajarhomo without strong magic.

Hai I pity this fella, I hope it comes out with better result than I am anticipating.

Wow thanks for the update

Great update



I prefer the Nebud who fought with his wits and sense in the pit to this Nebud who doesn't calculate before executing any move.. I wish Nebud would learn spectra and gain more wisdom before attacking fajarhomo ...


Well, I foresee to the end of this story when Nebud would be all powerful and untouchable

I understand Nebud and its actions perfectly... It has flaws; it is unconventional, proud, spontaneous but has a purposes-filled destiny. A super-uspec (superman) will be too predictable.

Ride on ObehiD.
Feeding us the action-packed piece in NL without good background and narration would make a poor novel eventually.

Ur descriptions to me are quite necessary and quite VIVID.

@Ultimategeneral Yes oh, let's see how far it can go...

@Fazemood Well I guess we shall see how Nebud does. Maybe it will surprise you...

@ayshow6102 thank you for reading

@Omittesb I agree it did strategize more in that fight in the pits. Well that Nebud is not the same, life has changed it. I guess we'll see what happens

@HotB Exactly, I'm happy that you can see the flawed aspect of Nebud. It's not perfect. And yes, I do need all of the descriptions and the background for a novel. So, I have to make sure I'm getting the right experience now. Thank you for understanding

Part 4
-------

The door was open when I arrived. It stood ajar, the fog softened and drifted away, as if beckoning invitingly for me to approach. I frowned. Why would the door be open? I stayed out of the way as I continued my cautious approach to the room-vault. I was now only a few paces from that open door. I stood with my back pressed against the wall, as thousands of questions buzzed in my head. Not the least of which was why I had insisted so strongly that Musa stay. Musa had pansophy which Fajahromo did not possess. That might be the only advantage that I could use against an uspec like Fajahromo. I knew that my spectra alone would not be sufficient. A voice urged me in pleading whispers to return to my room-vault and bring the imp along. I did not do as it bade. One thing remained unchanged, I was not yet ready for Musa to know of my true identity. The heir to Lahooni meant too much to this imp, and so it would expect more from me than I could give. For better or worse, my nearest future belonged to the voice in my head, and Musa would not understand that. How could I blame the imp when I could barely understand it myself? No, I shook my head. Musa could not know. Which left me to deal with Fajahromo on my own.

I took a few steps closer, my back glued to the wall, as I inched quietly towards the open door. I stopped when at last I was close enough that a simple twisting of my neck would grant me a quick glance at the room. My heart continued to thump belligerently in my chest, in preparation for the fight that was to come. It was a trial to ignore the beating of my heart and the unsettling mixture of dread and excitement that it awakened.

I heard an animal-like growl emanate from inside the room. That sound was followed by a loud bang, a crash, and then the unmistakable sound of fragile objects shattering into pieces.

“An open book in life but a riddle in death.” It hissed. “I did not think you capable of so much mystique Takabat. That was my failing, I did not think it of you. Why had I assumed that Fajahr’s cunning only passed to me? I told myself it was for that that our progenitor chose to give me a name derived from its very own, one that proclaimed me in advance of my lineage. But I was wrong, wasn’t I?”

As soon as I heard the voice, I found myself back in the pits, facing an inevitable death at the hands of the uspec on the other side of these walls. I heard the sounds it made in irritation, and learned from its soliloquy, that Takabat, even in death, was managing to outfox it. It was a thought that brought me much relief. I decided that for Fajahromo to be this piqued, it must have failed in gaining what it came here for. It may have the ring, but it could not have my identity, the knowledge of my presence and the link I bore to the ones who owned the ring it had stolen.

Still, I turned to stare into the room. Suddenly, all of my options were laid open in front of me. Fajahromo had spectra, it was magic which I still could not use, magic which would always give the uspec the upper hand. But it also had my ring, it had the key to the coffer, the key to the last brio. I knew that I did not have the luxury of time. I needed to retrieve that ring, I had to ensure that my secret was safe from Fajahromo. My eyes locked on Fajahromo and I felt my legs moving forward, pulling me into the room as if of their own accord. Fajahromo was alone, this was my chance, I could not risk waiting until the pious that had surrounded it returned. I walked in.

The room was just like mine, except emptier. It was devoid of furniture. There was nothing in it but a simple wooden stool, or rather the remains of a stool, and the glass contents that had sat on it. Seeing the room, I could understand the cause of Fajahromo’s ire. This was what Takabat had spent a fortune on? To buy a room-vault which housed nothing?

Fajahromo’s back was to me. I could see the twitching end of its tail, and the back of the light fabric coat it wore. The position of the ends of that coat showed that it hung open at the front.

There was something unbelievably stirring about seeing Fajahromo standing in this position, with its back to me, oblivious to my presence in the room. If I had any chance of getting the better of Fajahromo, it was this, now. I could catch it unawares. But I had to move quickly.

With one hand gripping my cutlass and the other hand my dagger, I walked further into the room.

What do you expect when you face your first foe? The pains that I had been dealt at Fajahromo’s hands far outweighed any that others had done to me. And that was a feat, as in the short time since I’d left the pits, I had become subject to so much pain. I’d had the magic of the soaru eyes used against me, drawing out pains which even my highly honed pain receptors were unfamiliar with. I’d been scourged, whipped with thorns until the pain was so great that I lost consciousness, a thing which had not happened even when I fought in the pits. My flesh was forever mangled, but even that was eclipsed by the hurt that Fajahromo had caused. No pain existed which could be greater than losing an offspring. To watch it serve Fajahromo while looking at me with the eyes of a stranger. To see it attack me, its own progenitor, for Fajahromo’s favor. Then to see it die, to watch the life drain from it and know that the only way to cope with the pain was to cut it off, to pretend that it had never existed, to disown it. An act done out of pride was really just one done to save myself. But here, standing in Fajahromo’s presence, all of that pain came back, and with it, an anger that I could not quell, one that I shook with.

I was blinded by that rage. I realized at that moment, as my hands reached for the weapons I bore, that the urge to slaughter Fajahromo was too compelling. I could not seek to reason with it, there was no reasoning with one such as this. There was only death. There was only death for all that Fajahromo had done to me, all the pain that it had dealt to me. I was blinded by that pain, spurred on by an inundating bout of rage which obliterated all desires save for an irresistible drive to seek justice for the offspring I’d lost.

Unceremoniously, I pulled my dagger and my cutlass out of their sheaths, arming myself with the dagger in my left hand and with the cutlass in my right. I ran towards Fajahromo, announcing my presence in the room.

Fajahromo turned around when I was only a few steps away. One second more and I could have cut off its head.

To my surprise, Fajahromo had a sword hidden in a special sheath sewed into the cloak it wore. It pulled that sword out, its eyes widening as it stared in fear at my approach. I did not see the light of recognition in its gaze, as I swung my cutlass down. The uspec’s sword clashed against mine, deflecting the blow that I had aimed at it. It countered with an attack of its own, which I repelled with a slam of my cutlass. It made to attack me again.

I slapped its sword away putting the full strength of my bulk behind it. This created a wide opening to the uspec’s spike-filled chest. I stuck my dagger in between two of those spikes, stabbing right into the uspec’s heart.

Fajahromo stumbled.

The sword fell from its hand as it stared in shock at the blood seeping from the mortal wound that I had struck. Both of its hands went towards my dagger, just as the uspec lost its footing and it fell clumsily to its knees.

The taste of victory was not as sweet as I had expected. Perhaps it was the ease with which I had won. I always knew that Fajahromo was no great fighter, but I had at least expected it to try to use its spectra. I must have cut it off guard then, for it to not even try to use the magic of the eyes that filled its face. Still, there was something to savor at the disbelieving stare on Fajahromo’s face. The uspec must have thought itself invincible. I decided that its head would make a great trophy.

I rose my cutlass up in the air, and let it swing unerringly towards Fajahromo’s neck.

Fajahromo rose a clenched fist in the air.

I stopped, just moments before the cutlass would have made contact with the ring on its finger. My ring. Again, just the flash of it, so close to me, wrought feelings in me that I was not wholly certain I liked. I saw myself surrounded by quicksand, in a mansion built from it. In a way the mansion was as much a maze as the ones in the labyrinths, because a simple touch of the wrong wall could make the quicksand soften and take you somewhere far away. I saw green, a place filled with green sludge, and a green face staring down at me. It must have been a giant from the vast distance that separated our faces, but I could tell that it looked on me with love. Then I felt a cold, chilling fogs drifting around me.

The visions stopped when the ring began to shake. At first, I thought it was some sort of magic, and then I realized that it was only shaking because the uspec who wore it shook.

Fajahromo.

It shook so violently I thought it was having a concussion, and then its smiling face rose to meet mine. I saw its own victory in the eyes that stared back at me. It laughed as it rose to its feet. This laugh reminded me of the last time that I had foolishly tried to kill Fajahromo.

The uspec pulled the dagger out from its heart and dropped it on the floor.

But it was not possible. A mortal wound was a mortal wound. No one survived from a wound to the heart.

“So many things possible with pansophy, but by far my favorite, is where pansophy meets spectra. For example, an uspec with only a basic understanding of manipulating its internal lifeforces, could combine this magic with the magic of, let’s say, the hooni eyes, and use this to change the location of its internal organs. Fascinating, is it not, my friend.”

Many things hit me at the same time. The first was that Fajahromo had pansophy. It had pansophy. It became even more clear as I watched the wound on its chest heal. How did an uspec like this gain pansophy? But that question was far outweighed by another, it knew me. The way it called me ‘my friend’ showed that.

I took a step back, and was stopped by the sharp point of a blade. I turned around immediately, and saw two pious ones standing behind me. From the markings on their fraises I could tell that they were yielders, the ones known for sapping imps. I turned back around and found two other pious ones there. It became clear that they had always been here, the four of them, they had simply taken away their appearance, so that I would not see them.

Fajahromo’s smile was just as I remembered it. “It is remarkable what you have done for yourself Nebud.” It cleared its throat. “I suppose I should say banneret instead.” It laughed. “As you hail from Mugakute, or was it Murekute, I see that your tales have gotten confused.”

I could not believe this. How did the uspec know so much about me?

“You made it too easy to keep tabs on you Nebud, too easy. You didn’t even think to change your name! All I had to do was hire a few auditors to go in search of you. I told them to look out for a fighter, one with a penchant towards covering its neck. They had you on the inter-port trail, and just followed you from there. At first, reading of your exploits was simply an entertainment I allowed myself, but now, now, I understand what it was about you that I always found so intriguing. You always stood out Nebud, and how could you not, with the blood of the mighty Calam running in your veins.”

I clenched my jaw.

Fajahromo kept laughing. “I will confess, I did not quite put all the pieces of the puzzle together until you came here. I had always known that my sibling hid an irira in Hakute, which was why I had spent so much time collecting Hakute iriras.” Suddenly, the room filled with iriras in the pits made sense to me. I flashed back to the time I had spent there, and the song that had bought me freedom, and entrance into the arena. “Yes, Takabat hid an irira, I knew that, but I never knew why. I wanted to find the irira because knowledge is power, and that was one puzzle I was desperate to solve. But then I killed Takabat and tortured its osin. It took months to break it, but when it did finally break, it mentioned a connection between the fabled wealth of Lahooni, the last brio, my own sibling, and a pious one named Isthum. And thus a search began which took me to Chiboga, and finally, brought me here.” It broke off, its smile turning into a wolfish grin of self-exaltation. “You have much to learn Nebud, or rather, Cala. Which do you prefer?”

I glared at the uspec, but I remained silent.

“Never mind,” it said, “you are by birth imperial, and all imperial ones must have their arrogance. I understand. Where was I?” It ran a finger over its temple. “Yes!” it exclaimed melodramatically. “Much to learn. But who can blame you, coming from a slum, and then the pits, it is truly admirable that you have been able to live the life you have for the last year. But, please, do not learn from the ilk of Marcinus, or Arexon, those are the tales of failure. Learn from Manus, from Sophila, from the successful. You are so clueless. Why else would you come directly to the Mausoleum and make a point of asking about my sibling from the least-trustworthy clerk here. You did not even take the time to learn who answered to whom, and if there was anyone you could buy. Politics, my friend, it is all politics. The attendant you spoke with belongs to me, as all clerks here do. For a little retainer, they tell me everything of note that happens here. And when you, Nebud, the irira from Hakute, who Takabat took such an interest in, arrived here, asking about Takabat and bribing imps to tell you when I appeared. It became obvious who the heir to Lahooni was, and how that linked with Takabat’s protection of an irira from a slum. Truly, I should have put it together sooner, but your arrival here was the vital clue I lacked in connecting the dots.”

Fajahromo paused in its gloating, obviously waiting for me to enter the conversation. I remained silent, now seeing all the dots connected myself. Arexon had called me a fool, and in my short time in this burg, I had done everything in my power to prove it right. I had never even thought that the clerk would go to Fajahromo with the story of how I had stared at it, and all the questions I asked about Takabat. It had never crossed my mind that imps I bribed could be bribed by someone else. It was not in my nature to be trusting, but it was also not in my nature to see schemes and plots behind every gesture. I had simply thought of the mausoleum as the name implied, a place for storing valuables. I had not thought that a place like this would be rife with politics, that it could be bought and controlled by a duke from another port, another spectrum. I just hadn’t thought. And what was my lack of insight going to cost me this time? All of the uspecs in the room had pansophy, and spectra. I may be the best fighter, but what was sword skill in the face of magic? The only smart decision I had made was keeping Musa away from here. At least I would be alone in suffering the repercussions. Musa would be free. I wished then that I could say goodbye to it, that I could tell it to make for itself the greatest life it could. But it would not listen to me, not when it searched so desperately for its heir.

“There is no need to look so glum my friend.” Fajahromo stated. “I did not lie to Isthum, I do want to continue where my sibling left off, in looking after you. Together Nebud, you and I could rule this world. A world filled with iriras, just like us, where iriras are free to show off their features. It is still my dream, my friend, is it truly such a bad dream?”

“And what would you ask of me?”

“Friendship, that is all. You are the heir to Lahooni, you can find the lost wealth of your line, and the last brio, and we can use those things against the people who stole so much from you. The plenum wants the last brio, we can set a trap for them once we have it. We can slaughter them all. Then we can use the last brio for the purpose that it was made for.”

“Which is?”

“To destroy Chuspecip.” It stated. “With Chuspecip and the plenum gone, the spectral existence, in its entirety, will belong to us. We will have that which the plenum seeks, a means to communicate directly with the Kuwor. And that is where true power lies.”

Fajahromo’s words connected some more dots in my head. Isolated events that had caused me pause, teasing me with the promise of memories that I could not fully recall. Now I recalled one of import. I remembered where it was that the connection had been made between the plenum and the last brio, and I remembered what that connection had been built on. It was as if I was back in the pits, standing outside of the room that the plenum met in. The conversation came back clearly.

“Where is it?” a voice asked.

“In Behooni I hear.” Another replied.

“Salin sent a dispatch from Lahooni to comb through Behooni. Chuspecip is not in that port. How does it evade us? How!”

“It should not be able to.” This voice sounded thoughtful.

“It has power. While the last brio remains, it will always have power. The only way to kill one of the Chu is to destroy all its lifeforms. The brio hides Chuspecip’s lifeforms. And so, we must find the brio and use it to guide us to the other lifeforms. Then we can destroy all of them and finally put an end to Chuspecip.”

The last brio was the way to kill Chuspecip. It was a weapon. From talking to Sensu, I knew what the last brio was, but I did not know how it had come to be in the possession of my line. Sensu had mentioned that it was something passed down from one uspec to the next, but why would we own a weapon which could be used to kill Chuspecip? Why would the founder allow it? None of this made any sense to me.

To Fajahromo, I said. “That ring is the last brio. As the heir to Lahooni, I am the only one who can use the ring to get to the last brio. Give it to me, and I will give you what you want.”

Fajahromo scoffed. “The coffer, not the ring, is the last brio. And the coffer is being kept somewhere, and I think you know where. If you will not work with me as a friend, then you will work with me as an unwilling participant. But you will work with me.”

I sighed. It had been too much to hope that Fajahromo would believe me. I don’t know what I would have done with the ring if it had given it to me, but it would have been enough to have it in my possession.

“Master!”

No.

I turned around, swiveling as soon as I heard the achingly familiar voice. Musa was standing at the door. Its eyes were trained on an uspec whose sword would have touched my back if it had not warned me. I had no doubt that the swords were made of pansophic metal, the conduit that allowed all pansophic lifeforces to pass.

I struck out with my blade, sending the other’s blade away. But more of the pious ones’ blades now approached me.

“The imp is a pious slave!” one of the pious ones declared.

I turned to see that Musa had disappeared. It had removed its appearance, probably done to hide itself, but it also made its knowledge of pansophy evident. Musa’s invisibility took the attention of the uspecs away from me.

“Samu!” One of the pious yelled.

A pious one reached into its coat and pulled out an animal? It looked like an animal, one small enough to be held in the palm. It placed it on the ground and the animal moved across the room. I have never seen any creature move that fast. It seemed to glide over the ground, like flowing liquid, or the sludge bottom of a landlocked canoe.

A pious one screamed out in pain. It had a wound in its side. A fatal wound it appeared, as the pious one fell to its knees and then collapsed into a pool of its own blood.

Musa.

The pious ones appeared alarmed. They moved their weapons around, cutting blindly into the air.

Then I heard another cry.

This time it was not one of the pious.

Musa lay twitching on the floor. Its form changed, from visible to invisible, a few times before it remained, visible. I saw the little creature that the pious had released perched on the ground, nibbling on Musa’s arm. I felt the imp’s pain, like a blast of emotion in my face. That troubled me. If the imp could not hide its pain, then what did that mean? I reached into that pain and found that the imp was dying. I did not understand that. Imps bodies are not the same as uspecs. They cannot die, I knew that, so why did its pain tell me that it had been inflicted a mortal wound?

“Sap it before it is gone.” Fajahromo’s dry words stirred me out of the reverie that Musa’s sudden appearance had locked me in.

“No!” I cried. “Leave the imp be. I will do whatever you want Fajahromo. Just leave it be.”

Fajahromo sighed. “The samu’s bite is fatal to imps. It will not die, but once it is reduced to its last sustainable bit, it will never be able to regrow. That is what the Samu does. The imp will leak all of its lifeforces away anyway, but the process will be slow and painful. If the pious sap it, it will be fast and the lifeforces will not waste. It is a kindness, really, a better way for the imp to go.”

The pious placed the tips of their blades on Musa, and I could tell from the changes that began to happen to its form, that it was being sapped. “NO!” I screamed. I saw the loss, one that I had not even thought was possible, and I yelled.

There is a pain that you feel when you lose that which you hold dearest. I realized then that it was one I had only felt one other time, when I’d lost my offspring. I did not know till that moment, how much I cherished the imp. It was the one person who had stayed by me, even when I refused to go on the course that it charted. It stayed with me, keeping its oath to help me, to teach me. I learnt then, that there was no one living, that I cherished more. And I would not allow it to die. I would not. And so I screamed with the pain of seeing the inevitable end awaiting the imp, but hoping that by crying out my disavowal, I could do something to stop it. The hilt of my cutlass was in my hand as I ran towards the pious ones. In my fury, I cut off the head of the closest pious one.

The two that remained had their eyes trained on me.

Musa’s head no longer resembled a head, and its legs appeared like spots of goo sticking out of its waist. I knew that this was what it was for an imp to be sapped, and I felt Musa’s pain. I felt the pain of death. There is nothing like it.

For a moment, I was alone in my rage, and then I heard an answering cry, another thing that felt the pain that I did, one that knew my despair and swore to come to my aid. I formed a bond with the essence of pain, a strange voice that spoke to me through the pain of losing that which was most cherished.

It told me not to fear.

I heard a scream. “What is this? How is this?” The voice resembled Fajahromo’s but all voices came to me distorted, morphed by the sound of my own screaming.

My vision was blurry, but I could see through it to the uspec. It was a sight I wished I was in a better state to savor: the sight of Fajahromo showing true fear. Its features were frozen in it. Fear. And then brown appeared underneath it, and the uspec was gone. As soon as the brown left, the entire room seemed to be filled with a pink glow. The pink receded.

I felt it pool around me as my vision began to clear.

That was when I noticed what happened. The other pious ones lay dead in the room, their swords fallen away from Musa’s body. The lit okun seeped into me, telling me through my pain, that I had awakened it. I had created it. I had, at last, found the secret language the okun demanded of me. For others, the okun simply asked for pain, pain of any kind, the pain of a flesh wound, of a broken heart, that was all the pain needed to use the magic of the kute eyes. But for me, for one gifted with such intimate knowledge of the pain emotion, the okun demanded more. It wanted pain to the degree that I had just felt, it wanted the pain of losing one cherished, this was the only pain it would speak with me through.

All of this was made clear as the okun came back into me, filling me with the energy absorbed from draining the two dead pious ones of their lives. This was energy that I would now be able to use for the other forms of spectra.

I did not care about that.

I felt to my knees by the disfigured body of my imp. I felt for its pain, but there was nothing there. It had no pain or anger. All that was left of Musa was a torso and a single arm. The rest of it was gone, their presence only known by the goo left where they would have emerged from the torso.

I screamed. I don’t know how long I remained as I was, kneeling by Musa’s mutilated body, screaming. I don’t know if I cried, if I wept as I often derided others for. I don’t know how the pain and rage I felt were expressed in me. I do know that when at long last it ended, my throat was sore from the screaming. There were four bodies in the room. One Musa killed, one I did, and two the lit okun killed for me. But it was not enough. I wanted more. I wanted Fajahromo. I wanted Fajahromo more than I had wanted it after my offspring died. For doing this to Musa, I wanted it to suffer. I wanted it to suffer in ways that even I could not comprehend.

I was frozen to the spot, my body unable to move, my brain unable to come to the realization that Musa was indeed gone. But my eyes still worked. They scrutinized Musa’s body, praying for signs of life.

Praying.

I had not prayed since I left the slum, not once. I had once believed in the founder Chuspecip, but that had been before the pits of Hakute. My eyes continued to study the imp. It did not move. But I could see that the goo was eating into its torso. It was happening slowly, as Fajahromo had said it would, but it was happening.

My eyes followed Musa’s one remaining limb. Its hand was in a pool of blood. It was the blood of the pious one that I had beheaded. I followed Musa’s fingers and found them all drenched in blood.

I frowned.

I crawled closer to that pool of blood. It looked as if Musa had written in it. There was something so familiar about that, about seeing writing in blood. It had written, “Sad” and its finger was on the last letter.

Sad. What did that mean?

I knew that it was nonsense, probably just a farewell message from the imp, but my grieving brain would not accept it. It clung to the hope that it had been more than a farewell message. Perhaps it was a clue, maybe there was a cure for this Samu somewhere. If there was a cure, I would find it, I swore.

I found myself praying for the first time in over ten years. We are taught to identify ourselves when we pray, to mention our lineage. As de trop uspecs we had never had a lineage and so we’d placed ourselves directly in Chuspecip’s line. I had a lineage now, and in the off chance that Chuspecip really did hear these prayers, I wanted it to know who I was.

“Greatest founder,” I intoned, “most noble one, I am Cala, true heir to Lahooni. Listen and pay heed to my words as I am your humble servant. If you give life to this one, imp Musa who has served my line faithfully for centuries, I will be yours. I will bow at your feet, and jump at your command.” I did not know if that was enough. Why should Chuspecip care about what I would do? What did I have that I could offer it? The answer came instantly. “I am Cala, descendant of the line of the Kaisers of Lahooni, guardians of the last brio. If you give life to this one, I will find the last brio and protect it with my life. I will serve you till I draw my last breath.”

I don’t know what I expected. I thought perhaps that Chuspecip would listen and immediately make Musa whole. I was wrong. If Chuspecip existed, it was not listening to me. Musa was still as it had been before my prayer, slowly being sapped to its last sustainable bit.

I honestly feel deep regret. Only I know how I feel right now, should I speak my mind again or just pretend that all is going well with this novel?

I am not the type to pretend. If this was a movie, I would have long abandoned it.


Obehid I am far from pleased, it shouldn't be Musa suffering, it should be Nebud ten times. Musa doesn't deserve this, why it? For a foolish, selfish Uspec it calls a master? Damn Obehid.


I am so heartbroken but I can just say that since I already started this, I will finish it. Not that I like to but Obehid has my respect.


Nebud is a fatal failure

ObehiD keep tor toring my body oooo.


but I need explanation biko, how many magic exist in spectrum existence..
most lovely update

Fazemood bro just know that no one is the wiser... My only consolation is the fact that Nebud the kaiser is just telling its story of how it came to be the kaiser and we know that Musa was not there with him[size=8pt][/size][font=Lucida Sans Unicode][/font]

Thanks for the update obehid I was eating and reading this update but now my mouth is bitter and I am sure I wouldn't be able to ear till tomorrow because am going to be mourning for musa. Obehid since you are the kuwor of this story can't you do something to bring back musa please

cassbeat:
Fazemood bro just know that no one is the wiser... My only consolation is the fact that Nebud the kaiser is just telling its story of how it came to be the kaiser and we know that Musa was not there with him[size=8pt][/size][font=Lucida Sans Unicode][/font]

That Nebud is already a kaiser telling its story doesn't change the emotional influence this story has.

I feel like I am the only person seeing this novel from a reality angle, you all are just reading for reading sake, none of you are truly into this story as you pose, if not you will know to speak along with each episode.

Nebud has been making mistakes worth criticizing, the fact that its a survival tales shouldn't be the nerve calmer. Nebud's mistakes deserve severe punishments. Now I appreciate Arexon for lashing that uspec silly.

You say none is the wiser. True! But at the same time only a foolish person repeats the same mistakes over and over. Today's Episode was what I expected, another wrong move by Nebud, worse part is that others suffer for it. Check from the beginning how it killed an imp for its eyes( although that can be attributed to the raging urge to own an imp eye) but Nebud's unwarranted egoistic pride cost a whole port.

Well, its just its story, let's leave it that way


Also, I may add that reading a novel isn't just about reading it. It also means immersing yourself into it to feel the activities and emotions planted in the story, read it like you can actually be part of it. That is what it means to have love for something.

Fazemood:


That Nebud is already a kaiser telling its story doesn't change the emotional influence this story has.

I feel like I am the only person seeing this novel from a reality angle, you all are just reading for reading sake, none of you are truly into this story as you pose, if not you will know to speak along with each episode.

Nebud has been making mistakes worth criticizing, the fact that its a survival tales shouldn't be the nerve calmer. Nebud's mistakes deserve severe punishments. Now I appreciate Arexon for lashing that uspec silly.

You say none is the wiser. True! But at the same time only a foolish person repeats the same mistakes over and over. Today's Episode was what I expected, another wrong move by Nebud, worse part is that others suffer for it. Check from the beginning how it killed an imp for its eyes( although that can be attributed to the raging urge to own an imp eye) but Nebud's unwarranted egoistic pride cost a whole port.

Well, its just its story, let's leave it that way


Also, I may add that reading a novel isn't just about reading it. It also means immersing yourself into it to feel the activities and emotions planted in the story, read it like you can actually be part of it. That is what it means to have love for something.

Hmm I understand your point and I'd say its not everybody that has that gift of reading and immersing oneself into it.. I read just for the fun of it anyways..

@Fazemood thanks for the feedback, I always enjoy getting honest feedback, good/bad. Anyway, I'm sorry the story isn't going in the direction you want it to, and while I really appreciate your willingness to stick with the story, I think that if it's gotten to the point where you don't want to read it anymore, then you should stop. Don't keep reading something you feel this strongly about not liking, just for me. Like I've said before, thank you for the support you've shown me overtime, I really appreciate it

@Omittesb thank you for reading. There are four types of magic in the spectral existence. There's spectra, which is linked to the eyes that the uspecs have. There is pansophy, which is the manipulation of lifeforces. There's emotions which allows an uspec to manipulate the five key emotions. And then there's route which we don't know too much about. But we know route is used for creating the equipoise and it's magic that only Chuspecip has.

@cassbeat well I'm starting to think that I shouldn't have included that part in the beginning about Nebud being Kaiser...oh well, maybe that's something to change for later

@ayshow6102 Thanks for reading. I'm sorry that the update made your mouth bitter, and right when you were eating too. Chai, Musa is lucky to have a friend like you to mourn for it

Awwww, Musa died sad... Regretfully, Nebud didn't tell him that he was the heir...

Glad to finally be able to catch up with this story after a long while.......... Hmmmmmmmmmmmm, what is happening?? Why is Nebud making mistakes upon mistakes.

Operation musa must not die, obehid give us musa, it feels like I know musa, so so so painful.

@Smooth278 lol, you don't sound too sad haha. Well, you're right Nebud didn't tell it the secret, that's sad...

@Tuhndhay Glad to have you back! Yes, Nebud has had a number of slips...well, we'll see what happens to it

@spixytinxy It's a real operation, anyway, I agree oh, it's so sad to see this happen to Musa

Part 5
-------

Fajahromo’s words echoed in my head.

It will not die, but once it is reduced to its last sustainable bit, it will never be able to regrow.

It will never be able to regrow.

Not like sapping, my mind reminded me, not like the horror that Musa had described the wielders unleashing on its kind. This was different. This was worse. With sapping the imp regrew. It took time, but eventually it regrew. This was not the same, there would be no regrowth from this. It would remain immortal, but it would be stuck in its last sustainable bit. It would not have enough form to be solid, enough appearance to be seen, enough memory to know what it was, or enough consciousness to know that it existed. It would technically be alive, but it would in essence, cease to exist. That was the fatal pain that I sensed in the imp after the Samu gnawed at it. This disease could not be cured.

“Please!” I begged. What more could I do? My imp was dying before my very eyes. I could see the form seeping away from its torso. None of the fingers in the sole limb it’d had remained. The lifeforces were slowly seeping out of it. I tried to think. Could there be a cure, something that I had read? I cursed myself for not reading more about imps. I should have read more. How had I been so arrogant as to think that I could never be subjected to this much loss?

“Greatest founder,” the words of another prayer came to my lips unbidden, pulled out by the despair I felt. This was too hard. It was too hard to watch Musa suffer so slowly, to watch as the life was drained from it, bit by painfully slow bit.

“Greatest founder,” I began, but the words fizzled to a stop. What else did I have to bargain with? All I had, I would give, I swore. Musa did not deserve to end this way. The pain burned in me, hotter than an inferno, more painful than a scourge. I saw pink liquid fill the ground around Musa, pulled forth by my pain.

“Go away!” I yelled at the okun. “You did not come when you were needed but now you appear?!” The okun disappeared.

I was frothing with anger.

“I will find the last brio!” I swore. “Do you hear me Chuspecip? I will find the last brio and I will make sure the plenum gets it! I will help them destroy you. I will destroy you. Save my imp, or you will rue the day that I was born!”

I was too enraged to give much thought to the words I said. There were voices in my head telling me to do more, to threaten worse, to raise the spirit of a god who watched its people get slaughtered. A selfish god, I thought. Chuspecip. All Uspecipytes were cursed by a coward god! I hated myself for praying to it. I hated myself for that weakness. There were voices in my head that cautioned patience. They warned of angering gods. I did not listen. I did not care. Let Chuspecip approach me if it dared!

I stared at what was left of Musa’s slowly rotting form, and I knew that nothing would ever be the same. There was nothing I could do to help my imp, nothing I could do to aid one who had tried so valiantly to save my life. I recalled all the times Musa had been timid about using its pansophy. Had it known all along that a creature like this samu existed? Had it known that any uspec could unleash this dreaded weapon? Was that why Musa had been so reserved in its actions? I recalled all the times that Musa had shaken with fear at the mention of yielders. Yet, this time, it had seen my troubles and rushed in to attack them. If Musa had not appeared…I shook my head.

“I will avenge you.” I swore it. “I will rip Fajahromo to pieces!”

Murmurs pulled my attention to the open door. Several imps stood by it, I counted four. As soon as my eyes met their empty sockets, they scattered, leaving before I could spend my anger on them.

I rose instead, picking up my weapons as my eyes traced the room. Only minutes ago my entire world was bursting with possibilities. I had seen visions of a life in a hooni mansion. I’d had Fajahromo so close I had stabbed my dagger into the uspec’s heart. Why would it not die? Why did it live to haunt me? Had it not taken enough from me? No more, I swore to myself, Fajahromo would take no more. I pushed my cutlass into my sheath as my vision blurred with violence, and my heart pounded with a bloodlust I had never felt before. I wanted to kill everything. I marched over to my imp. As I bent to pick it up, cradling what was left of its body in my arms, I decided that I would.

If this pain was what the lit okun demanded, I would give it a feast. I would go to the main hall of the mausoleum and cover the grounds with lit okun. Every single uspec in that room would feel my wrath. I would kill them until they told me where Fajarhomo was. Then I would go to Fajahromo! I knew I could kill it. Fajahromo knew it too. It had seen what I was, what I could create.

I felt the energy of spectra pounding in my veins. This was the energy needed to harness the powers of the other eyes. I had that energy. The only eyes Fajahromo had which I did not, where hooni eyes, for teleportation, and mejo eyes, for burning. I would kill it before it attacked me, or I would die trying. This was the end of my game with Fajahromo! I swore to the imp, and I would kill anyone who got in my way.

“You will not die alone.” I said, as I carried it through twisting walkways, back to the room-vault I had purchased only two weeks ago. We had spent eleven days in that room-vault together. I looked back longingly on that time, yearning to have it back.

How could pain such as this exist?

My toes brushed against the hard fog door. The fog softened, sensing me. I walked in through the light fogs, then stomped over to the nearest lounging bed. I lay Musa down gently on that bed.

I felt strange.

My heart was pounding with an unebbing thirst for carnage. It was a pounding which heated my blood with the anger that accompanied the thirst. Yet, despite the heat I felt in my veins, I felt an uncharacteristic cool around me. The thermal gradient was unsettling enough to pull my mind from thoughts of the uspecs I had to kill. It was jarring enough to let thoughts of Fajahromo, cut up into a million little pieces, slowly fade from my mind, leaving in its wake, a chill which was starting to seep into me, from my cool exteriors.

I looked up then, my mind cleared for long enough to see that the wall had been opened. Musa liked this chill. The thought filled me with a pang, a sharp pain, as if an arrow had been shot straight through my heart. The imp had probably left the wall open, before leaving the room, its curiosity getting the better of it.

Cool air filled the room. I walked over to the open wall.

I saw the bucket of slush, right by the slits on the ground just before the opening. I knew that putting some of the slush into the slits would heat the room, combatting the chill of the hail port. The key to closing the opening was also plain, a clearly exposed sign of another way to abate the chill. But even though the cold had now completely filled me, making me shiver with a fervor I had not felt before, I did nothing to make it warmer.

Instead, I simply stood by the opening, my feet just in front of the slits in the floor. A step or two forward, and I would be falling out of the opening, tumbling in the sky like the unending stream of falling hail.

There is a beauty which only a mejo port can have. It is a beauty etched into the pristine white landscapes, one enforced by the fine hail which never stopped falling. I could just barely make out spots of green canvassing through the streets underneath me. For some reason, the sight of these uspecs filled me with an inexplicable anger. It reminded me of the uspec that had taken the life of my imp. It reminded me that I had uspecs to kill, rooms to flood with lit okun.

How dare the scene appear so pristine, every inch of it covered with white? Red would far better soothe the mood that I was in.

A patch of red filled my eyes.

Nefastu, I thought with a grimace, the cursed road which led to the Isle of shuns. For some reason, that road, even though it was linked to a mejo port, had as much fog as it did hail. In some places more, the tales said. The fogs there drifted faster than normal fogs did, and the hail that fell in Nefastu was uncouth, hard pellets that drummed against the skins of the ones who chose to walk that path.

A soft voice trailed into my mind.

You see, there is a port which borders the isle. That port is a mejo port.

I frowned at the thought. I could not quite remember where I had heard it, but the voice in my mind reminded me of Arexon when it had pretended to be a female imp. I shook my head, pushing the meaningless words away.

I turned my back on the opening in the wall. I was about to close it, when I recalled Musa’s fondness for the chill. I would leave it open then. While I went about my mission of finding Fajahromo and bringing my savage justice to it, I would leave Musa with the memory of fond things. I did not know how much of the imp was left in its body. How much had the pious ones’ sapped before I ended them? Did it have enough consciousness to think? Did it know where it was? In lieu of closing the wall, I chose to place packets of slush into the slits on the ground.

An inferno flared to life once the slush sunk in though the slits, meeting the reactant at the bottom, which caused it to ignite. The warmth of the inferno seeped into me, filling my veins with pleasing heat.

I walked back to my imp then.

Most of its hand was gone. There was only the bottom part of its palms left connected to its wrist. The skin of its hand was stained in the blood of the pious one that I had beheaded. I remembered then the strange message that it had written into the pool of blood.

“Sad.”

Had it been saying that it was sad? I had left it by itself and so it was sad? Why was it sad? Why did its sadness warrant a message? Surely an imp as wise as mine would leave an important message if it was going to leave a death note. Avenge me! Kill the uspecs! I shook my head. No, those were messages I would leave. From Musa, I would expect a message like, ‘find the heir’. Yes, that is what Musa would be thinking with its dying breath. But ‘sad’?

My mind darted back to the last time I had seen a message in blood. The memory floated effortlessly to the front of my mind. I recalled that day on the inter-port trail, when I had witnessed Reynard’s death. I remembered watching the invisible finger moving in blood.

‘Beware the wrath of Sada’

That was the message that Xavier had left in the blood, by Reynard’s body. Beware the wrath of Sada. I frowned. Sada. Sad. Sada. Sad. Had Musa been trying to write Sada? Anger boiled in me. Was that it? Its dying note was a token of thanksgiving to the god it chose to serve? And that was what I had been straining myself to decipher?

Something felt off.

Musa seemed to approach religion the same way that I did. I had never seen or heard the imp refer to this god in anyway. It did not give thanks to Sada or pray to Sada for help in finding the heir. No, I shook my head, Musa was like me, it trusted in its own prowess to achieve its goals. Musa was no religious zealot. So why would it leave a dying note relating to ‘Sada’?

I wracked my brain for answers. “What were you trying to tell me?” I asked the imp when no answers came. Musa was no religious zealot. I was convinced of this. Perhaps the message had simply been what it had read like, ‘sad’. Perhaps it was saying that it was sad to die without finding its missing heir. No, Musa would not leave that as a dying message. Musa was no fool. It had to be Sada, I just knew it was, but I could not understand why the imp would leave such a message.

Beware the wrath of Sada.

The memory of those words written in Reynard’s blood, filled my head. The wrath of Sada. Something clicked into place, like gears finally meshing and turning accurately together. My brain had found a connection, something of importance about the phrase of words. The wrath of Sada, I repeated to myself, the wrath of Sada.

The wrath of Sada, it is an imp resistance group.

Musa’s words filled my head, releasing an avalanche of memories. I remembered being in that hovel on the inter-port trail, recovering from Xavier’s unexpected appearance. I had quizzed the imp about it, and it had told me that it was a resistance group of imps fighting against the enslavement of their kind. I remembered it telling me that the wrath had tried to recruit it for its pansophy. My eyes widened as the pieces fell in place. I recalled Xavier stealing my bag in search of Tantan’s appearance, a doll that I still carried with me in my belt. I remembered the rage I had felt because Musa kept the object from me. That felt like another life now. But of all things, it was the ‘pansophy’ that rang in my brain. They had wanted to recruit Musa for the pansophy it had.

He tried to recruit me for the wrath. They like to get imps with pansophy. Their main aim is to revive all the sapped imps by giving them a boost of growth. They have a growth cache, so they have been successful in the past, in helping sapped imps.

They have been successful in the past, in helping sapped imps.

The wrath of Sada! That was the message that Musa left me. It wanted me to take it to the wrath of Sada! They must have a cure then, a way to help Musa combat the effects of the Samu.

I looked down at the imp and found that all of its palm was gone. The sapping process had not stopped or slowed while I thought. How much time did I have? I could not tell. Some parts of the imp’s body seemed to be sapping faster than others. Did I even have up to a day?

I jumped up then, springing into action. I had a chance. Hope swelled in my chest, filling me with a joy that I could barely contain. Musa was not lost to me, not yet.

I walked over to our coffer. Musa had left the key to the coffer, laying on top of the hard surface. I picked it up and stuck it into the coffer. I pulled out travelling clothes as I thought of the new hope that Musa had left me.

“Thank you.” I said to the genius imp. “Now all you have to do is hold on.”

I would need to travel fast. I emptied the contents of my belt, choosing to fill a pouch with a mixture of money pieces, a few pieces of worth, a little more of merit, and the rest of it value. We had dried meats and some cakes still left uneaten. I wrapped them in cloth and placed them in my belt. My eye caught on the doll, Tantan’s appearance. I shoved that into my belt without thinking. What else? I looked around me, and pulled out the cloak which I had bought which gives off heat. I also pulled out the thicker coat. The one with the heat I would wrap around Musa. It was as I secured my hail footwear to my leg that I was filled with a daunting realization.

I had no idea where the wrath of Sada was located.

All of the joy seeped out of me as quickly as it had come in. My hope was gone, all that was left, was an empty husk.

I shook my head, forcing myself out of the defeatist mindset.

Musa had left the message for the wrath of Sada. It would not have done so if it was in a place that I could not find. Perhaps it was information that I could buy.

I frowned when that soft voice drifted into my head again.

You see, there is a port which borders the isle. That port is a mejo port.

I walked back to the opening in the wall. Covered by my heavy cloak and footwear, it did not feel quite as chilly standing by the opening.

You see, there is a port which borders the isle. That port is a mejo port.

My eyes drifted to Nefastu. There was something about this soft voice. Was it Arexon? No, I shook my head, not Arexon. But an imp, certainly an imp. An imp with a voice which reminded me of Arexon. A female imp? Which female imps had I known well enough to remember this clearly?

There was only one. One female imp from Aurelion who had called me Ned and told me secrets only imps were meant to know.

Aaliyah.

I was suddenly thankful for the fortune that I had given to Yakubo. I prayed that it cared for the imp, as it was due to this imp, that I had a chance of saving mine. I closed my eyes, allowing the chill to blast my exposed skin as I thought on the imp Aaliyah’s tale from the day we’d left Aurelion. With my eyes closed, I could focus on the imp’s words.

This is an imp secret, passed by word of mouth between imps. Permafrost is the main ice-mountain, the Cathedral of our faith in Sada. It is where the wrath of Sada is located.

Permafrost.

Again, the earlier words returned, but this time, they came to me complete.

You see, there is a port which borders the isle. That port is a mejo port. When you reach the trail to the isle of shuns, you could continue on towards the isle, or you could veer off the trail, and go to Permafrost.

I opened my eyes, and the answer was staring me in the face. It was there in the red-tinged trail. Nefastu, the forbidden road which led to the isle of shuns.

But now I knew that it also led to Permafrost, to Musa’s only chance at survival.

Forbidden or not, cursed or not, it was now where we were bound.

Musa has seen it all, I do hope Nebud I able to restore it back. I hope Fajarhomo rotts even in death.

Good one ObehiD,