They say that in the end, The Shadow’s revenge would be stolen from them, and their quest would change to that of righteousness. In the end, though he would save many, he would not save…

Varick didn’t appear before them again until the day the ship docked in Barthain. He came to their cell and watched as his guards clamped Xiren’s hands in irons. He wore a patch over his right eye and didn’t ask Xiren to join his soldiers again. That ship had sailed.

The children were brought down the gangplank to a land that none of them had before seen, except for Amalia. The ground was lightly dusted with snow, but they could still see hints of green poking up through it. Some of the smaller children marveled at the sight. They had never seen grass before. Their feet touched the ground for the first time in four months as they were ushered away from the ships towards several carts pulled by two large animals they had never seen before. The animals were large, four-legged beasts with shaggy hair and short flat snouts. The carts were giant cages, similar to the ones they were kept in on the ships. To their left and right, children from the other Liever villages were being forced into cages.

This time instead of being separated by gender, the children were all ushered into the same cart, regardless of sex. Xiren and Amalia were put in the same cart along with the rest of the younger kids from the village, whereas Magro, Edran, Katri, and the rest of the older children were sent to another cart. At this point, two soldiers took to the front of the carriage and flicked the reins. Six guards riding on Loaks surrounded the carriage to add extra security. Xiren and Amalia’s cart turned towards the Northeast, while the other cart went Southeast. Each village was split into two carts, with one cart going in one direction and the other going in the opposite.

Gathering his courage, Xiren spoke to the soldiers driving the carriage. “Excuse me, Sir? Why are the carriages separating?”

The guard who wasn’t holding the reins turned back to look at Xiren. “The other carts are heading to Riad. We’re heading to the capital, Alitria.”

The next three weeks were a bitter journey. Amalia and Xiren spent the majority of the time planning their escape. Her parents lived in Alitria, and she was sure that they could count on them for some sort of help from her mother, they just needed a chance to escape the caravan. 

For the first week, it snowed constantly. The children were let out of the cages once a day to use the restroom, and when they did, they all froze. They had been forced to shed their warm fur coats that they usually wore in their hometowns and were now only allowed to wear a thin layer of linens over their bodies. During the second week of travel, the snow turned into rain, and the children were constantly soaked to the skin. The third week of travel the sun finally shone through the clouds and warmed the carts with its rays.

They finally pulled into the capital, Alitria, and it was like nothing Xiren had ever seen. There were dozens of stalls along the main street with different types of goods. There were fruits, meat, jewelry, magical items, and books. Xiren had never seen a book before, nor did he know how to read, but it was exciting to see, all the same. 

Near the end of the main street lay an open square. There was a podium at the far end that looked to be where announcements were made. As the carts approached the open square, Xiren noticed that all of the people in the street turned away from the carts as though they were afraid to look at them. The carts came to a stop in a horseshoe pattern around the square and parked there. 

As one, the guards left their positions and filed down an alleyway, the orphans unable to see their exact destination. This was the first time during their entire journey that the children and the carts had been left unattended. Finally ready to bring their plan to fruition, Amalia stood in front of Xiren hiding his hands from view as he used darkness to create an exact copy of the iron key the guard had always used to unlock their cart door. He had seen it enough times when they had been let out of the cart to use the restroom, that he was able to make a duplicate. Luckily, it seemed that the soldiers had a single master key for all of the carts and all of the shackles that kept the children bound. Making quick work of it, Xiren unlocked his shackles and Amalia’s, then he created a second key and handed it to her. Together they freed all of the children in their cart, opened the door, and told them to run.

Young though they were, the kids didn’t need to be told twice. They dashed out of the cart in a frenzy, some turning back down the street they had entered from, while others dashed down another alley, opposite of the one the guards had used. One by one, Amalia and Xiren ran from cart to cart freeing the other children. Xiren glanced at the villagers on the shopping street, and although a few noticed what was happening, they didn’t lift a finger to help or hinder the progress.

In a matter of three minutes, all of the children were free and had vanished into the surrounding streets. A shout came from the alleyway that the guards had entered. Xiren grasped Amalia’s hand and dashed towards the opposite alley, but the guards were faster. One gripped Amalia’s hair from behind and yanked her backward. Still holding her hand, Xiren crashed to the ground, the cold cobblestones scraping against his skin. He let out a harsh scream as one of the soldiers stomped on his wrist, breaking his hold on Amalia’s hand and cracking his bones in the process. Another guard grabbed him by his collar and lifted him into the air, pressing a knife firmly to his neck. “Make a single move, and I cut! I swear I will!” The guard declared. Tears dripped from his eyes, unbidden, Xiren’s vision swam as he lifted his gaze to stare at Amalia. Another guard held her up by her hair, his other hand holding a sword to her back, just behind her left shoulder. Shocked, Xiren and Amalia dropped the keys they had been holding at the same time.

The captain of the guard approached, picking up both keys, he looked directly at Xiren, his eyes pulsing with hatred. “Where the hell did you get these?” His first words were quiet, deadly quiet, but the next time he spoke, his words were loud, biting, and hard. “I asked you a question, boy! Where did you get these?”

Xiren bit his tongue fiercely, refusing to speak. He glared at the captain, unblinking. As he did so, he felt a sharp pain in his neck as the knife bit into his skin and his blood began to drain. “Stop it!” Amalia screamed, sobs wracking her body. “Don’t hurt him! I did it! I made them!”

“No, Lia!” Xiren tried to speak, but the knife sank further into his neck. The pain was so horrible he couldn’t form another word.

Amalia’s eyes met his. I’m sorry. She mouthed the words to him as she held out her hand and allowed her dark mana to form in her hand and create an iron key. She had inherited his second magic power.

“Devil!” One of the soldiers cried.

Without another word, the captain nodded firmly to the guard holding Amalia. Xiren watched in absolute terror as the tip of the sword at her back bloomed through her breast, her crimson blood glistening in the white light of the sun as it fell to the cobblestones below. It wasn’t a scream that ripped from Xiren’s throat, it was a roar. “LIA!” Pain flooded his body and his soul, and for the first time, he felt a burning rage in his stomach, igniting not only his water magic source but three others as well.

Xiren’s scream was joined by others as the soldier holding him was immediately engulfed in flames. He instantly released Xiren and the knife he held, his body combusting and melting simultaneously. At the same time, a chasm in the earth appeared beneath several of the other guards and they disappeared beneath the cobblestones. The captain was lifted 40 feet in the air by a gust of wind and fell back towards the earth, his head colliding with a resounding crack! Lastly, a blade of ice flew from Xiren’s feet, cleaving off the head of the man who held Amalia.

Without a second thought to the men he had just killed, Xiren dashed forward and caught Amalia’s body before it hit the ground. “Lia!” He screamed again. “Don’t you dare leave me! We have to find your parents, remember! We’re going to make them regret what they did to you! You can’t leave me here!” He held her tightly, watching her eyes as she lifted a small, cold hand to his face and smiled as the light left her eyes. Her hand dropped to the stones below, lifeless. As it fell, a pool of darkness appeared on the ground below her body.

Xiren finally understood Amalia’s power. He touched his fingers to the black pool and felt its warmth. He pushed his own black mana into it, watching as an obsidian flower bloomed from it, its seeds glistening crimson rubies. Amalia’s power was to turn death into life. Plucking the flower gently from the earth, he held it above her body and cried over the both of them.

“I will take the mage boy.” A voice spoke gently from above. Xiren looked up through his tears to see an older man approaching the leftover soldiers. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, clutching the flower and Amalia’s body. It appeared to have been a long time, as the sun was much lower in the sky.

Of the eighteen soldiers that had accompanied the carts to Alitria, only three had managed to stay alive. Xiren had murdered the fifteen other guards. One by ice, one by fire, one by air, and twelve by earth. The square would be forever scarred by the chasm that fell as deep as the eye could see.

One of the three remaining guards approached the man, hesitantly. “I’m afraid not, Sir. This boy has just killed fifteen men. He must stand trial.”

The man shook his head, his eyes sorrowful. “You all murdered his friend, and he obviously does not have control of those powers of his. I will teach him control. This will never happen again.” He stepped closer to the soldiers, his voice suddenly firm. “Let’s make a deal. I will pay you the slave price for all of the children that escaped you, including the dead girl, and this boy, if you cover this up.”

“How would we cover this up?” The soldier scoffed at him, glancing dramatically at the people in the main street, all those who had bore witness to the event.

“They saw nothing.” The man said, refusing to back down. “You can tell your superiors that the children were Lievers and they tried to escape and attacked you. You were forced to kill all but this one, and during the fight, your captain and fourteen others couldn’t be saved. Lievers are powerful, after all. You can give the boy’s slave money to your superiors, and pocket the rest.” He stepped closer to the soldier, whispered something in his ear, and held out a pouch.

The soldier took the pouch, his hands shaking, he pulled a few coins from the pouch, weighing them in his hand. Xiren fell out of his stupor momentarily fascinated by the coins. They were like nothing he had ever seen before. They were made of eternally frozen ice with symbols carved on the surface. The soldier turned to look back at his comrades, who nodded, and then all three turned and disappeared back into the alleyway.

The man approached Xiren slowly and quietly as though he were a small animal he was afraid to spook. “It’s time to leave, boy.” Xiren tensed at his words, holding Amalia to his chest even tighter. “You can bring the girl, and the Gemryl.” The man nodded softly at Amalia and the flower. He knelt slowly before Xiren until they could see eye to eye. “We will see that the girl has a proper burial, and is honored for her sacrifice. My name is Arkham. What is your name, boy?”

Finally letting his guard down, Xiren spoke. “My name is Xiren, son of Tiran.”

Xiren straightened far enough for Arkham to lift Amalia’s body from his arms. “My apologies, about the young lady, Xiren. What was she called?”

“Amalia.” Xiren whispered, almost afraid to speak her name.

Arkham nodded seriously. He led Xiren quietly away from the square, looking around to make sure no one was following them. “Does Amalia have any family that would attend her funeral?”

Tears spilled onto Xiren’s cheeks again as he spoke. “Her father is-was the High Priest, Raxos.”

Arkham stopped in his tracks and turned to look Xiren in the face. “Raxos? You're sure?” He shook his head, muttering to himself. “I’d heard that he’d fathered a child, but that she died, to think she was alive all this time, and a Liever, at that. No wonder, he couldn’t have born the shame.”

“What shame?” Xiren demanded, suddenly defensive. “There is no shame in being a Liever! We’re not bad people! It’s your kind who don’t understand.” He covered his mouth as soon as he realized he had given away what he was.

Arkham studied him contemplatively, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “I’ve never been fond of Lievers. In fact, in our faith, they’re nothing more than abominations. However, a Quintaren? Killing you would be an absolute waste of talent.” 

“What’s a Quintaren?” Xiren asked, curiously, feeling slightly more secure.

Arkham looked between Xiren and the body he held, ignoring the boy’s question. “Are you a created Liever, or a natural one?”

“Created. What’s a Quintaren?” Xiren asked again, undeterred.

Arkham ignored him once more, muttering to himself. “Created, well at least you can’t create any more monsters.”

Xiren finally gripped Arkham’s arm, hard. “We are not monsters! You are! Your navy decimated my village! They killed Granny Alice!”

Arkham glared down at him. “Your village was practicing heresy. You say you’re not a monster, but you just slaughtered fifteen men!” Hearing these words, Xiren looked down at his hands, one holding a flower, the other empty, both caked in blood. He fell to his knees as the reality hit him. He had killed someone, Amalia had been murdered and he had killed the perpetrators. He had done what he had always been told was unforgivable, but as he lay there staring at his stained hands, a dark feeling swelled in his chest and he realized, he didn’t feel sorry at all. He had done what had needed doing. He had saved the other children, and he had avenged Amalia. He thought about things he had never dared to think about. His family, the war, Amalia’s family, and how the village had treated them all. The next moment came to him with clarity, of what he would do next.