“I shouldn’t have let him in,” were Taj’s first words. 

Why had he done that? It was not something he usually did. As if he had forgotten that this boy was Clar. As if he had forgotten not to allow someone to get nearby.

“O, that is not true.” 

He allowed someone to get close—Rowan. She was his friend. She was important. Taj cared about her—and what? 

She was gone, beaten, and expelled by whom? 

Clar. 

Taj stood up slowly. 

He went to grab his messenger to check her latest update. Her responses to his messages were very short, but they provided him the information he needed. Would it be safe to start writing regularly? It probably wouldn’t be, with Clar around.

Clar, again. 

“I need to be more careful. These purchases. Clar is getting too involved,” Taj said quietly.

He hadn’t decided yet whether to continue with his idea or to abandon it. To get a bit of revenge on the Clar family, he had this concept, and it seemed interesting to try. But Taj started to have doubts.

It was troublesome. 

Taj looked at the table, at the shelves. He sighed heavily. 

Then he took a shower and, later, a long bath. He needed to balance his Crystal energy, as his Crystal was killing him. It disconnected earlier. Immersing himself in water always helped him activate Crystal and ease the pain. 

Water. He had recently dreamed of a place with water and treetops visible in the distance. Fog covered most of the view… Taj could tell why the fog was so apparent in his vision—his brain simply couldn’t imagine it. 

He had never seen more water than in a swimming pool. Only endless sand. Taj spent years in the Deserts, first in the cartel and later when he signed up for a project. But water, lakes, seas, oceans? He had never seen them. 

Taj dreamed about seeing vast water.

His Crystal, though, painfully reminded him that he probably would never get rid of it. This meant he also likely would never be able to get rid of his past, detach from cartels and live peacefully. It also meant that seeing lakes, even the nearest ones outside the City, was out of his reach. Too expensive. Not for the poor. 

Money. 

He recalled that tomorrow he had to go teach. He had lessons arranged. Taj had already calculated that two or three more difficult arena fights would allow him to stop. What he would earn should be enough to settle the bill the cartel boss gave him a few years ago. 

What a joke it all was. Taj was not even sure of his age because the cartel wasn’t sure. They randomly noted some date when they bought him. He had no parents; the cartel’s boss said they were killed. By whom, and why? No one told him. His surname, even this—it was also not confirmed. Taj only remembered his mother’s name. And now…

He hoped to be hired at TU, but they rejected him again. 

No matter how many hours Taj put into his research, it changed nothing. He went to the Deserts for two years. 

The project? Nobody wanted to go, but he did. He published the results, and they were good. Even the Sect asked about them. And what? ‘No.’

TU University was afraid of angering cartel number two by hiring him. Taj was aware that if he was hired, then the probability of him returning to the boss would be very slight. And the boss… the cartel's boss wanted him back.

Taj felt anger inside.