35

Before Hyrtan attacked the other students, Valere found Sion. Sion was still near the fence, trying to regain his bearings and visibly still confused. Valere hails him as he approaches.

“Sion! So this is where you were. I was sent to get you. It’s dangerous to wander off.” Sion seems to find some clarity when he hears Valere.

“Sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I thought I was in the tent, but all of a sudden I was in here.”

“What?! You didn’t even realize you were moving? Is anything else wrong?”

“I… saw a strange vision.”

“A vision? And just to be clear, that’s not normal, is it?”

“So you started hallucinating and stopped being in control of your body. It sounds like you need a doctor, Sion. The researchers might know something too, but even if they don’t, getting to a tent and the rest of the class is probably for the best.”

“What about Dr. Sar?”

“Ah, I suppose we are closer to that tent than the next one. Might be smarter. Are you hurt or anything?”

“No. No pain, no weakness.”

“That’s good, but it might still be smart not to push you too far, right? Let’s just take it slow, we’re not in a hurry.”

“Alright, Sir Valere. Thank you.”

“Of course. I think I’m taking to this teaching thing better than I thought I would.”

“I think so. You feel so different from when you killed that goblin.”

“Do I feel stronger or weaker? I say that, but I know—”

“I don’t know. Whether you feel stronger or weaker is a better question for Scima. Even if you feel different, I still think it’s the same thing at the core. So I’m not sure if something like strength matters.” Valere goes silent for a second.

“I see. Well, let’s get walking.”

They begin to make their way back to the tent, albeit slowly. Soon enough Valere begins to find the silence unbearable.

“What sort of vision did you see? I mean, it might help us figure out what’s wrong.”

“I just saw an armored man in front of the spire.”

“Do you know him?”

“No, not at all. But he didn’t feel threatening. He felt reassuring, somehow.”

“How strange. Tell me, you probably know this better than I do, what happens after we die?”

“We don’t know. The gods have never answered that question. The prevailing theory though is that our souls have a certain force, and when we die, Prodovita or Coranimi recycle that remaining force to animate new life.”

“If that’s really how it is, then perhaps it’s some memory from a past life.”

“The theory is popular because it helps to explain things like deja vu and seemingly innate aptitudes, and we’re almost certain memory can be found in the soul too.” Sion thinks to the name of his class, ‘Inheritor,’ pausing for a moment but making no mention. “I’ve never heard of anything like this, but it might be the case.”

“And you really just feel completely fine now?”

“Yeah, no problems at all. I really don’t think the vision was harmful at all.”

“Well, that’s good. I think we’d all be in for an annoying time if you went insane.”

“What?”

“You’re huge. If you just went wild and started attacking us, we would definitely stop you, but you would definitely break a bone or something before that.”

There is movement in the still distant tent. A giant man with pale skin and dark hair, and a sword on his back, ducks beneath the entrance and looks around. He seems to spot Sion and Valere and begins to walk towards them. Though he doesn’t appear to be moving with any real urgency, his large strides take him a long way. Soon enough he stands before the two of them.

He towers over them. He’s taller and wider than Sion, and by a much greater margin than Rebello or his father. Sion is shocked that he again must look up at somebody’s face, and when he does he notices something strange. The man’s eyes are the same as his father’s, pitch black with white concentric rings inside of it, the same pattern as Sion’s own eyes. He looks quite similar to Sion’s father, though much more muscular and with an even sterner face. When he looks at him Sion feels something bubbling up inside. The man speaks with a deep, gruff voice.

“You… Boy…” Before Sion can respond, Valere asks a question.

“Are you one of Sar’s colleagues? Is it alright if we go back to the tent?” The man looks puzzled.

“Sar? I know nobody by that name.”

“The researcher. He was in that tent you just came out of.”

“I know not of him. He must have gone elsewhere. I have come on other business.”

“What business? If it’s alright to ask.” Before the man can answer, however, Sion interrupts.

“I’m sorry, but I have something I need to ask. Sir, do you know my father?”

“Your father? Boy, how could I know that?”

“Ah, of course. My father’s name is Tima. And… he has the same kind of eyes as you.”

“I see. I do not know him. How mysterious. I was wondering myself, why you had eyes like mine. It’s so mysterious. I wish we could speak for longer, boy, but I will at least leave you with this. My name is Kreteo. If your father has spoken the name you ought to understand, but I doubt he has. But perhaps you should mention it to him, and have a conversation I wish I could have with you now. I’m sure it will be quite nostalgic for him. I ought to return to my task. Go to that tent, and be safe, boy. Ah! I suppose I should ask your name.”

“My name is Sion, Mr. Kreteo.”

Sion’s body shudders with sudden weakness. When he recovers, Kreteo’s eyes narrow. His face, though stoic before, becomes even more expressionless. Kreteo grips the hilt of his giant sword and roars as though a beast. He swings it at Sion’s side without holding back. Sion flinches away. Valere steps between him and the sword, blocking it with his own. His strength still more than halved, Valere can just barely hold the sword back and stop it from cleaving them both in half.

“Mr. Kreteo! What are you doing!?” Kreteo does not respond, instead just exhaling sharply and soldiering on. Valere holds his sword at Kreteo and stands between him and Sion.

“Something’s clearly wrong with him, Sion. No point in trying to reason with him, just get to safety and leave this to me.”

“I won’t run. I can fight.”

“You had a vision and lost control of your body! Just run!”

“I won’t be a burden. And I just can’t stand the thought of leaving him alone.”

“He tries to kill you, but you still treat him like this…” Valere sighs. “Fine! Whatever! I’ve had more troublesome things to do when I was an adventurer, so who really cares! Just stay behind me!”

Valere steps forward and slashes at Kreteo’s chest. However, Kreteo just walks forward and lets the slash come. Valere’s sword slams into the side of Kreteo’s chest, unable to cut through. His body is simply too tough for Valere to pierce using only one arm.

Kreteo swings his own sword down towards Valere’s shoulder. Valere realizes instantly that if he gets hit, he would lose his remaining good arm and be relegated to a life far from the battlefield. Valere flicks his blade up and stops Kreteo’s. The huge weight bears down on Valere, and with only one arm he’s not sure how long he can hold on.

Before Valere falters, Sion steps forward strongly. He grabs one of Kreteo’s shoulders and hooks his foot behind Kreteo’s heel and tries to push him to the ground. Though Kreteo does not react, he moves just enough for Valere to slip free.

Valere grabs the hilt of his sword with his prosthetic arm. He grimaces when he realizes how much weaker it makes him. But he slashes regardless. His sword again smashes into Kreteo’s chest, but this time a tiny trickle of blood falls from where he was struck. Kreteo again roars, but clearly not of pain.

From the corner of his eye, in the distance, Valere sees a horde of people, in the direction of the next tent. Hyrtan’s attack has begun.

“Damn it! Something is attacking the others. We need to regroup with them, Sion! We’ll just have to take this guy with us.” Sion answers resolutely.

“No. You said that if I went insane I would break at least a bone before I could be stopped. If we let Kreteo loose in the middle of the battlefield, then surely it would be much more than a broken bone. He isn’t in his right mind. That much is clear. I won’t let him even endanger a single other person. You can leave him to me, Mr. Valere.”

“Don’t be insane! If you die then there’s nothing left for me to do but offer up my neck to Scima, Rebello, and the Headmaster! No way will I let you!”

“You promised to protect all of us. I’m strong, so you don’t need to worry. You have people to protect, so let me protect him.” Valere looks away, doesn’t answer, and runs off towards the other fight. Sion looks at Kreteo. “Mr. Kreteo, I’ll definitely save you!”