“What do you think you are doing?” Taj felt the anger burning inside him.

The day was supposed to be simple. Six lessons, just training some students in self-defense skills. All wrote that someone had asked them to swap. All of them, as it turned out, were bought by Clar. And this Clar was here, smiling, happy about his brilliant idea to buy all the lessons. 

Why did Clar buy them? 

“You want me to teach you a lesson?” Taj’s voice was low, filled with blazing fury. If Clar had known him better, he would have heard it instantly, but he didn’t. Taj tried to control himself. “Take your money back. No lessons today.”

“No, Taj, you are a teacher. I paid for the lessons; you need to spend time with me. Teach me something; I want to learn.” 

This was what Taj heard back. Clar somehow didn’t notice how angry Taj was. Amazing how stupid Hannen Clar’s grandson was, considering his grandfather’s intelligence. 

Surely, he had guards. Was it worth it? 

What Clar said next made it worthwhile.

“Taj, Taj, I will pay all just to have you for me!” Clar exclaimed, still smiling.

He honestly said something like that, and at first, Taj thought he overheard, but no, Clar said that and looked proud of himself. He really thought he could buy whatever he wanted, just like in a shop. Clar liked that toy; he wanted it, so here was his money. 

Clar was despicable. This time he wanted a person, but whatever. Everything in the City was for sale. 

For Taj, it was now worth the effort—to fight to feel free from this dirt, even if only for a moment. He was sick of it all, sick to the bones.

Clar was already close, trying to grab him and touch him. Taj made his move. With a crack, he broke Clar’s hand, then made him kneel. 

The look on Clar’s face was a small prize for the humiliation that Taj felt. 

Then they showed up. Two guards. Where they were hiding before was their professional secret. The fact that they appeared out of thin air told him that they were not that bad. 

“Shouldn’t they have prevented me from touching Clar, though? Not that good guards,” he added to his thoughts.

Taj prepared to fight. They even gave him a moment to do so. He felt that anger that had been accumulating in him for a long time was surfacing. Taj activated his Crystal and looked at his only weapon-like thing—a bottle of water. 

The guards were fast, acting as a team. One of them went to shield Clar and protect him, but didn’t heal him, so he had to be Crystaler, not Abilitier. Easier to beat than someone with Ability, Taj quickly noted, just a moment before he dodged the other one’s attack. 

Taj ducked, hesitating visibly so that the guard would misjudge him, as usual. This one movement gave him the moment where he could strike, aiming with one hand and fingers toward the eyes. With his other hand, with a slight swing, he hit hard in the nose with the bottle, then further, very violently, with fast, dynamic blows, without mercy. He beat the guard’s head, then grabbed him, broke his shoulder, and broke his hand when he tried to reach for him. 

“Not the best guard to let that happen,” Taj noted to himself.

In the background, he heard Clar’s screams, first shouting for this one not to hit Taj, then for the other to leave him alone. Because of this, Clar gave Taj a few seconds before the other one ran up. 

Taj looked. The second guard had already fired the Crystal weapon. Taj didn’t have time to dodge. He was kicked in the ribs, then hit low. The weapon pierced his leg. Taj staggered, dissatisfied with himself, but he was lower. He swung the bottle violently, aiming between the guard’s legs. This one was better trained; the other would have been lying down already. 

In response, Taj got a blow with the guard’s knee in the face. He had to bend back and do a dancing turn so as not to fall. 

Both of them were now looking at each other, assessing what to do next. Taj slowly got up, limping a bit. Clar didn’t come closer but screamed in the background and screamed louder when he saw the blood and that Taj was injured. 

Taj was angry. He was already standing on both legs. Still holding the bottle in his hand, he decided to throw it away. He looked at the one lying down. He could be healed; he was probably healing himself. Taj then stepped on the lying guard’s manhood, wanting to provoke the other one. They exchanged looks, and then Taj raised his leg and again stepped on it with force. A loud yell rang out. 

“What a failure,” Taj thought. 

The other one evidently thought so too. They looked at each other again for a moment. The second guard jumped; he even stepped on the first one. He didn’t care; his goal was Taj. 

Taj surprised him, didn’t dodge, and let his cheek be cut. Then he hit him with one arm, using all his strength from Crystal. Aiming at the head, and with the other hand, he morphed a dagger and stuck it under the guard’s ribs. Taj hit so hard that it was quickly over. He had to catch the second guard and slowly lower him to the ground. 

The two guards were both beaten. 

Taj was breathing heavier. He kneeled and started to disarm them. Clar screamed. It could have looked like he was undressing them. Taj had to take out their Crystals—he quickly found where they were, as in his case, in the chest. One wore a weaponized shirt. Taj cut it; he tore out Crystal and threw it under Clar’s feet and then moved to the other, who was wearing more complicated clothes. Disarming it took longer. Taj threw this Crystal further away.

Clar was still standing at a distance, but suddenly, he stopped screaming. 

“O?” Taj said only this.

Why now, why not before? Then he noticed why Clar was silent. 

Taj stood, slightly limping, and observed the third guard approach him slowly. 

The man, older but not looking old, appeared… elegant? His face bore a raised eyebrow and a perfect beard. He wore a jacket and even a shirt. 

For a guard, it was strange.

Clar was trotting silently behind, which was very rare.

“My apologies, Mr.?” asked the third guard. 

“Mr. teacher,” Taj said.

“Teaching what exactly?” the guard asked further. He assessed the other two guards at a glance and didn’t rush to help them as if he didn’t care. Without their Crystals, they would bleed and could die, as they couldn’t heal themselves.

Interesting, Taj noted. “Self-defense,” he responded.

That made the third guard smile slightly. “Young Mr. Clar, dare I say, this teacher of yours is promising.”

That made Taj stare at him. What was that, a test? 

“I do not intend to be Clar’s teacher,” Taj added, his anger rising again. 

“I see. Let me then ask, and if not I, then Mr. Clar certainly will. What kind of compensation can I offer for today’s trouble? My apologies again for this fuss. Young Mr. Clar’s guards had clear orders not to engage until it was evident that there was danger. I observed the situation, and there was no danger at all,” the guard said.

“Amazing. I want nothing from Clar,” Taj said, trying to calm down.

“One, I do not want to talk to grandfather, One?” It was Clar, visibly naming this guard with a number. 

“What is it, truly, about this family?” Taj couldn’t help but think. He also noticed Clar’s hand was healed. This guard was then not Crystaler but had Ability and could heal. It was costly to have a Healer as a guard.

“Mr. teacher, we have two options,” the guard said.

Taj, hearing it, tensed but said nothing.

“I will offer compensation of, perhaps, triple the amount of the lesson’s worth from today. It should be enough to pay the Healer to expedite your recovery after this trouble. Or Mr. Clar will send his offer. I need to add that he will offer more,” the guard said with a smile.

There was no threat in it. Clar nodded to what the guard said.

“Take it. Grandfather will surely pay more,” Clar added.

Taj looked at them, partly in disbelief, partly angry again. Then he resigned, took out the messenger, and without words, let the guard tap it to send the payment to his account. 

“What is wrong with you all, Clar?” Taj said aloud. He couldn’t stop these words. 

The guard then gave him a way, shielding Clar from him—or shielding him from Clar—at that moment, Taj was not sure. 

Limping, he started to walk. 

He wanted to be far away from them all. Taj looked back for a second to see that Clar was talking to this guard emotionally, and the guard was listening, at the same time assembling Crystals. But he hadn’t inserted them into the guards after finishing, which was very peculiar. 

Taj was walking home. His Crystal was healing him very, very slowly. He had an old model in an old embedding. Cartel’s old design was based on Tunc’s old invention. Taj sighed. He would need to sit in water for a long time to balance his energy. 

The lessons were a ten-minute walk from his building. On the way, Taj sat down at a transport stop. He noticed that people were staring at him, and only then did he remember that he had a wound on his face.

He patted himself to check if he had something to clean himself. The bottle he had already thrown away, so there was no water to use. He should have thought before trashing it. 

“HERE.”

Taj heard a strange voice, and then he saw a black, scarred hand that was holding an unopened bottle of water. 

The hand and voice belonged to a man. 

“No,” Taj said. He used his sleeve and wiped his cheek with it.

There were clubs here on the way to his room. It was often that customers accosted him, and Taj always needed to be clear not to take anything. 

The man took the bottle back. He didn’t insist. Then, as if he noticed that Taj’s leg was wounded, he reached with his hand, and before Taj blocked him, he had already sent him energy to heal. 

A Healer? Here? 

Taj was surprised but decided not to make any eye contact. The man said nothing. He waited until it healed. 

Healing energy… Taj could feel how it felt. Was it sweet, really? How amazing. He never tried it himself, never had enough money. 

Strange. The Healers were, for sure, not the usual club customers. Taj glanced at the man, and to both probe and say thanks, with a clenched fist, he hit his other, open hand. It was the Sect’s greeting gesture. 

The man did the gesture back, said no more words—he left. 

What a surprise.