Six Words [Chapters 13-16, Japanese Progression Fantasy] (Patreon)

Hey peeps!

If you want to start this story from the beginning, go [HERE]. ALSO, how is the cover looking? Good? Not good?

More chapters!

(Best typo I caught in these chapters:

Someone creamed.)

LOL

Shami

Chapter Thirteen

“Demons gain strength by consuming essence and aging.

To classify demons, they were given titles based on their overall power.

From weakest to strongest: neonate, mature, sophisticate, elder, ancient.”

- A quote from ‘Varinth’s Beginnings, a History Book’

            Exhausted, and gulping down air as I went, I finally made my way out of the woods. The oppressive cursed summer heat brutalized me further. I squinted back the light as I made my way toward Wist Castle, my white clothes stained with blood, my shoulder throbbing, and my back sore.

            “You should train your body,” the Warden whispered. “You’ll look more dignified after a fight, at least.”

            I rubbed my chest, the life essence of the trees still painful, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I was already getting used to this magic.

            When I neared the first wall, I spotted soldiers near the open gate. They held spears loosely in their hands, but once someone spotted me, they all tensed and fell into combat positions.

            “Wait, is that Rimon?” one of them shouted.

            A man dashed forward, straight for me, and once he was close, I recognized him as Jin.

            “What happened?” Jin exclaimed. He motioned to my bloody clothing and then stepped away from me. “Were you attacked?”

            Someone on the wall sounded a small horn, probably meant to summon the bladekeeper.

            I shrugged and then weakly shook my head. Everything spun, and it took me a moment to reorient myself. “I’m fine. I… went out into the woods.”

            “Why would you ever do that?” Jin whispered. “It’s dangerous. Most soldiers don’t dare venture there.”

            Half a dozen soldiers from the castle hurried out as a group. Mazun led them, his hand on the hilt of his blade the entire time. Despite the heat, and running all the way over to Jin and me, Mazun wasn’t even breathing heavy.

            His eyes widened at the sight of my crimson-stained clothing. But a second later, his expression hardened. He stepped close, pulled my uninjured arm over his shoulders, and then hefted most of my weight so it would easier for me to walk.

            “Come,” he commanded. “I’ll take you to the master of the bathhouse at once.”

            I tried to pull free of him. “Don’t touch me.”

            Mazun didn’t release me. He held fast. “This isn’t the time for pride, fool. You’re injured!”

            After a long exhale, I stopped fighting him.

            Jin nodded to the other soldiers, and they formed a defensive circle around us as we all headed through the gate. Mazun’s hold on me was rather tight, but confident. I suspected he had carried many injured soldiers in the past.

            He didn’t speak to me, not even as we neared the white-stone bathhouse. Jin signaled the soldiers to return to their posts before he returned to the gate. He glanced over his shoulder several times, obviously worried for me, but he, too, said nothing.

            When Mazun brought me into the bathhouse, he took me straight to the pool’s edge.

            “What were you thinking?” he hissed, breaking the silence. “What kind of fool wanders out into demon-infested territory? Huh? In the middle of the night? Are you an idiot?”

            Mazun removed my arm from his shoulders. Then he pointed at the water.

            “Get in,” he commanded.

            The far door opened, and Yuna gracefully stepped out, her eyes downcast, her brow furrowed.

            “Mazun-tsin?” She hesitantly stepped closer. “Why are you shouting? Please. This is a place of relaxing and healing.”

            I stripped off my clothing and eased myself into the cold water. As I sat on a stone seat, Mazun pivoted to face Yuna.

            “I apologize.” Mazun bowed. Then he straightened himself and frowned. “Our newest ward snuck off into the woods last night.” Mazun snapped his attention to me. “Well? Are you going to explain yourself?”

            “I was… exploring the castle grounds.” I sank into the water until it was up to my armpits. “I’ve never been outside of Ritmo City before. I wanted to see the surrounding territory.”

            “Sweet darkness.” Mazun gestured to Yuna. “Did you hear this?”

            Yuna nodded once, but she didn’t comment.

            “Don’t lie to me.” Mazun stomped around the edge of the pool. “Were you trying to run away, weren’t you? If you run, no on will take you. Everyone will know you have no loyalty—and you’ll be a vagabond, shunned from every castle, living in some alleyway. Even if it’s rough here, it’s still infinitely better than starving. Or being eaten by demons.”

            “Please,” Yuna whispered. “Quietly.”

            Mazun gritted his teeth. After a short exhale he added, “You’re one of us now. We will protect you. But we can’t do that if you run off. Understand?”

            While his words were harsh, I felt the kindness behind them. Mazun was concerned about me. Perhaps it was because—if I died—it would reflect poorly on him, but I suspected he was just a man that hated failing those he oversaw.

            When the main door the bathhouse opened, the sunlight cut through the cool shadows and agitated me. A soldier stood outside, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his fidgety energy concerning.

            “Mazun-tsin,” the soldier said, a slight shake to his voice. “You must come to the fields. You’ll never believe this.”

            “I’m busy,” Mazun snapped.

            “Please. Something has happened. I fear you won’t believe me unless you see it with your own eyes.”

            Mazun stopped his furious pacing. He stared at the soldier, his eyes narrowed. “What happened? Explain it now, and then I’ll decide if I need to see it.”

            “The crops… The base of the plants are healthy and green. And the soil… It’s easier to till. It happened all at once. Overnight. It’s a miracle.”

            Mazun caught his breath, shocked into silence. Even Yuna slightly turned her head to face the soldier, her eyebrows knitted. The prolonged moment felt tense, but hopeful.

            After a slight nod, Mazun rushed to the bathhouse door. “Lead the way. I do want to see this.”

            The soldier dashed off, leading Mazun away, and the door slid shut once they were gone. That left Yuna and I alone in the bathhouse. She kept her hands clasped together in front of her as she turned to face my general direction.

            “You’re injured?” she whispered.

            “Yes,” I said.

            Yuna bowed her head, and then walked to her room. When she emerged again, she was carrying more jars, each a different height, as well as some bandages. She set them down next to the pool and slid one over to me. “This will help with any cuts.”

            “Thank you.”

            I took the ointment she provided and slathered it over my arrow wound. My shoulder stung, but the ointment numbed the pain.

            “How do you know medicine?” I asked. “I didn’t think… physicians ran bathhouses?”

            Yuna smiled. “My father is the castle physician. Well, he was. He passed away several years ago. Now that position belongs to Rikko—a physician trained by the temple priest in Ritmo.”

            I caressed my wound, thankful it was no longer bleeding. “Is Rikko competent?”

            “I… don’t know. I’ve never spoken with him.” Yuna’s black hair half fell over her face, but she didn’t do anything to correct that. “I’ve sent soldiers to the keep to ask for an audience, and to procure me supplies, but Rikko has denied them.”

            “I see.”

            “You ran off to the woods?” Yuna pushed over another jar. “Why, Rimon-ten?”

            At first, I didn’t reply. I finished with the gooey ointment and then grabbed the second jar. It was clearer than the first, and less a mud-like substance.

            “Yesterday you asked me what I would change about this place,” Yuna whispered. “I said I wanted a bountiful harvest. You remember, don’t you?”

            “Yes,” I muttered.

            “And today it came true.”

            I smeared this new serum onto my injuries, wondering how it was different than the first. I took my time replying to Yuna, as I wasn’t yet ready to reveal what I was here for.

            “It was just a game of hypotheticals,” I said. “The crops doing better is a coincidence—and you shouldn’t think much of it.”

            “Is that so?”

            I rubbed the second serum onto my back—across the little arrow puncture. When I had lived in the Scarlet Lantern, I had been afraid of scarring, probably because all the girls feared that more than anything. They always used medications for even the slightest of scratches—even with me.

            When I was done, and I had set the jar down, Yuna handed me bandages.

            I didn’t know what to say to her—because she was right. I had gone into the forest to make certain Wist Castle would have a bountiful harvest. I hated lying to her, since she didn’t deserve that, but she would know the truth soon enough.

            “Thank you for helping me,” I said. Even if Yuna had figured out what I done, she couldn’t prove it. And the less she knew about me and the situation, the better. The unknown was a powerful shield—wasn’t that was Ketsu had said?

            Yuna half bowed her head. “It was no trouble.”

            I stood from the water and then gathered up my soiled clothing.

            Yuna sat straight. “Can we play another game, Rimon-ten? If I asked you—hypothetically—to gather more supplies for the bathhouse, would they appear?”

            I slipped into my pants, intent on returning to the storage shed to gather clean clothes. “We’ll see,” I muttered.

            “Rimon-ten… Who are you?”

            I headed for the bathhouse door. “I apologize. I must be on my way.”

            And then I left, intent on heading into the keep.

Chapter Fourteen

“When demons breed with humans, they create semi-intelligent monsters.

When spirits breed with humans, they create nothing.”

- A quote from ‘Varinth’s Beginnings, a History Book’

            Once dressed in a new servant’s uniform of pristine white, I stepped out of the hot supply shed and stood in the full radiance of the Eye and the Molar. Only the cold embrace of night ever brought relief from their harsh disapproval.

            Before Mazun could return from the fields, I jogged through the second gate, and through the castle’s village of crafters. The smoke that lingered hurt my throat, so I held my breath for most of the trek, never taking my eyes off the keep.

            “I see you hate protocol,” the Warden whispered. “I knew I liked you for a reason, Rimon-ves. I also despise going through the proper channels.”

            I shook my head, trying to focus. My first course of action was to see Ketsu, and ask him about various activities in the castle. After that, I would have to make some important decisions.

            “Have you heard about the fields?” a woman whispered to another as they hurried by me.

            “If what the others are saying is true, the night has blessed us,” the other replied.

            It wasn’t just the two women—several groups of people went running for the gate, heading out toward the farms. It seemed news of my efforts was spreading, which caused me to smile. If I really could use life essence to lure more spirits to come to my lands, perhaps I could create something wondrous.

            I strode through the open third gate and right into the vibrant garden that surrounded the keep. Instead of stopping and speaking with the gardener, Hino, I went straight for the doors. First, I had to walk up a dozen stone steps, and once at the top, I was met with an imposing sight.

            The doors were intricately carved wood and beautifully decorated with steel fastenings. There were motifs across the front. The right door was the symbol of night—a dragon—and the left door was the symbol of day—a phoenix.

            “Those are Axraksii and Ozeon,” the Warden said in my ear.

            I hadn’t known that, so my attention went straight to the door of night. The dragon had the legless body of a scaled serpent and mane of horns around his head. The beast was depicted with wings, but they merged into the night sky, as though all of darkness were somehow his body.

            His door was regal and beautiful, and the side of the phoenix was carved with vast forests of flames and destruction.

            Flanking the keep doors were tall, sturdy walls made of stone and wood, designed to defend against intruders.

            As well as two soldiers.

            They both held spears, wore scaled armor that covered most of their body, and stood on either side of the door. They immediately snapped their attention to me.

            I tried to act casual—and just walk inside—but one of the soldiers stepped forward as soon as I moved.

            “And who are you?” the soldier, giving me the once-over. “I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

            “I was just purchased to serve the Ring Warlock,” I said.

            “Well, then, stay in the fields, where you belong. Only certain servants work here in the keep.”

            “I was told to report to the housekeeper.”

            The two soldiers exchanged glances. Then the first offered me sneer. “Who said such a thing?”

            “Ketsu,” I replied, hoping they would confirm with him directly.

            To my delight, the soldier held up a hand. “Wait here.” He stepped into the keep, moving with deliberate haste.

            As I waited outside, in the merciful shadow of the keep, the other soldier glowered at me. I said nothing to him—the man was just doing his duty. If he was to watch the door, he was doing a fine job.

            A moment later, the doors opened a second time, revealing the soldier and Ketsu.

            Ketsu adjusted his ivory-rimmed glasses before meeting my gaze. Then he gestured for me to come inside. “Yes, there you are. Late. Unacceptable. You should have been here before dawn. You’ll need to learn the rules quicker if you’re to please our lord.”

            The soldiers offered me a slight bow of their heads as I passed, neither happy I was who I claimed. I wondered what they would think once they discovered I was new Ring Warlock…

            Ketsu strode forward and ushered me into the entrance hall.

            This space was spacious, large enough for oxen!

            It was dimly lit, with polished wooden floors and large wooden beams supporting the high ceiling. A few low wooden benches were placed along the walls to make it easy to remove one’s sandals. Ketsu removed his, and I followed suit.

            “Come, come,” he said.

            I quickened my step.

            Ketsu slid open a large wooden door to reveal an elegant reception room. According to The Teachings of Shoki, every castle had an area for the lord to meet visitors, and I assumed this was it.

            This room was expansive and meticulously arranged, featuring bamboo mats that covered the entire floor. The walls were made of rice-sheet screens, allowing natural light to filter through while maintaining privacy.

            Sliding doors decorated with beautiful paintings of landscapes or seasonal flowers, separated this reception room from adjacent chambers.

            It was large enough for a sitting table, several sitting pillows, and hanging set of lanterns.

            I spun in a circle as I took it all in. “This castle is beautiful.”

            Ketsu stood a little straighter and smoothed his white robes. “Yes, well, I take pride in the artists I picked to paint everything. It is wonderful, thank you for noticing.”

            I shot him a glance. “Was it really necessary to scold me for being late?”

            “I assure you—if I hadn’t everyone would’ve known something wasn’t quite right. You said you wanted me to fool everyone. Haven’t I done that?”

            I nodded. “You’ve done a spectacular job. Thank you. However, there are certain things I wish to discuss.”

            Ketsu pointed to one of the painted doors. “Let us head deeper into the keep, so we can guarantee we won’t be overheard.”

            We left the empty reception room and entered an even grander part of the castle.

            It was an audience hall far larger and more elaborate than the reception room. The ceiling was ornately decorated with wooden carvings and gold leaf, depicting a long, harsh summer, and then a beautiful, relaxing winter.

            There was a seat at the far end of the gargantuan hall—a seat elevated on a dais, with cushions and low tables arranged near it.

            “There is where the Ring Warlock sits,” Ketsu said, gesturing to the seat. “His advisors and retainers take seats around at the tables for when he calls a council.” He eyed me. “I like that spot there.” He pointed to one blue pillow on the left. “I’d prefer if you didn’t allow anyone else to take it.”

            I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Consider it yours.”

            Ketsu genuinely smiled. “You’re very gracious.” Then he walked across the room to another door painted with pictures of the spring. “This way.”

            I followed the man into a large tea room where two people sat.

            The wooden walls of the room were painted and carved to depict spirits playing in the forest. Bamboo mats covered the floor, and the center table was large enough for ten people. A small alcove built into the far wall displayed a simple scroll and a flower arrangement. The words on the scroll were poem dedicated to the night. It read:

Silent moonlight glows,

Whispers of the stars above,

Night blooms in magic.

            A woman and a child currently sat and sipped their tea from small cups. They both turned to us.

            The woman wore long robes of gold and black, her neck adorned with fine silver necklaces. She wore her black hair up and held with chains that matched her necklaces. I had seen many beautiful women in my life, and this woman was among the top five.

            Her eyes were large, her lips full. When she turned her gaze to me, I almost forgot my manners.

            I bowed my head.

            Ketsu forced a smile. “Ah, excuse me, Lila-mya.”

            The honorific mya was used for individuals of higher social standing, but who weren’t actually the lord or lady in charge of land. Advisors, councilors, and everyone who wore a title without much else attached to it were called mya at the end of their name to show respect.

            This woman…

            Was she Garrain’s wife? Or one of his concubines?

            The woman, Lila, placed a hand on the shoulder of the child—a young boy aged eight, no more.

            The boy was clearly her son. He had the same expressive eyes and lips. He wore his hair short, and his robes were more golden than hers.

            “You may be on your way,” Lila stated. “This is time I get to spend with my son.”

            Ketsu didn’t respond. He simply half-bowed and then motioned for me to follow. He brought me through the tea room, and then through another sliding door. This one led us to a long hallway of doors—a hallway that seemed to split in two directions.

            Once we exited, I whispered, “Who was that?”

            “I’ll explain once we’re in a private place.”

            It was this hallway where I finally spotted servants. They were cleaning the bamboo mats on the floors and dusting the artwork on the walls. They wore the whitest of uniforms, despite their duty of cleaning. When Ketsu strode by, the servants stopped and bowed.

            I glanced at the people, but they didn’t pay me much attention. They immediately resumed their duties once Ketsu was past them.

            Then we reached a heavy door of wood that Ketsu struggled to open. Once inside, he beckoned me to follow. I did, and I stepped into a large personal room. There was a sprawling bed, only an inch from the bamboo-mat floor, a sitting table, for writing, and a bookshelf cover in thick tomes.

            An ink well and several quill pens sat on the table, as well as a stack of parchment.

            When Ketsu shut the door, it was with a solid slam. These walls were wood and stone, and meant for the most privacy. Several lanterns hung from the ceiling, each painted with a picture of a phoenix.

            “These are my personal quarters,” Ketsu said. He motioned to the blue pillows, and sapphire blankets. “You may make yourself comfortable, as I have much to discuss.”

            I sat on one of the pillows near his table. “Thank you. I also have a lot to discuss with you.”

            “Well,” Ketsu said as he straightened his glasses, “I think the first thing we should speak about is how you’re going to come to power. I suggest you kill of Garrain’s family in one fell swoop.”

            That got my full attention. I sat a little straighter as Ketsu walked over to the other side of his table.

            “Is Lila one of Garrain’s concubines?” I asked.

            Ketsu nodded. “Yes.”

            “And the boy was his son?”

            “Of course.”

            I rubbed the bandage on my arm as I mulled this over. “And the bladekeeper who is in charge of the keep… He’s also Garrain’s son?”

            “Yes. I take it you’ve met him?” Ketsu took a seat across from me. He quickly and carefully arranged all the quills and paper so they were stacked off to the side.

            “How many children does Garrain have?”

            “Seven sons, and three daughters,” Ketsu said, no emotion in his voice. “His eldest son, the bladekeeper, is Kaito. Then he has Gison, Hiro, Naru, Akihiko, Furin, and the youngest—the boy in the tea room—is Viba. His daughters, Hana, Bibi, and Tetsuga, are all under the age of seven, and born to the same concubine.”

            “Urg,” the Warden said with a groan. “What a waste of time to commit all those names to memory.”

            I shook my head, dispelling his sarcasm. “And how many concubines does Garrain have?”

            “Five,” Ketsu promptly replied.

            “And you think I should kill all of them as well?”

            “Yes. Of course. Anyone left alive would have a valid vendetta against you, and you don’t want that.”

            I sighed as I allowed my gaze to the fall to the floor. “You want me to slaughter women and children?” Fifteen completely innocent people, three of which were under the age of seven.

            “Oh, sweet darkness.” Ketsu pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t tell me you have qualms with this. What did you think you would do with them? You can’t take Garrain’s concubines as your own, and his children certainly won’t call you father. They’ll call for your head.”

            The Warden darkly chuckled. “You know it to be true, Rimon-ves. You murdered their lord. Sparing their lives won’t buy their love—it’ll just give them an opportunity to ruin you.”

            “Shoki said it was callus and dishonorable to seek out the death of innocents—and that children were the most innocent of all,” I muttered.

            Ketsu leaned onto the table as he narrowed his eyes. “This is why I hate that book. Shoki never had to deal with taking power away from an old ruler. Whenever you dramatically reveal yourself,”—Ketsu sardonically shook his hands in the air as he spoke those last words—“you must eliminate those who would delight in your death.”

            I had no problems killing Kaito, the bladekeeper. I already knew I wanted him out of this castle. But massacring children didn’t sit right with me. Shoki spoke of benevolence as a powerful tool, and if I abandoned it at the first opportunity…

            But Ketsu and the Warden weren’t wrong.

            I had never been so conflicted in my life.

Chapter Fifteen

“Before humanity had built cities, there was a time in which the suns burned too bright.

Fires swept across the world, reducing everything they touched to ash.

This time was known as the Age of Cinders.”

- A quote from ‘Varinth’s Beginnings, a History Book’

            “I need time to contemplate this,” I whispered.

            Ketsu folded his arms over his chest. “I pray you finish mulling this over before you declare yourself the new lord. Because if you don’t kill them then, they will flee the castle, I assure you.”

            “Hmm.”

            “Are you ready for my second suggestion? I fear you may not be.”

            I stood from the pillow and paced around Ketsu’s personal quarters. While it was a beautiful room, I saw none of it. My gaze remained on my feet, my mind elsewhere.

            “Ketsu-rah,” I muttered. “Would you mind sending me on an errand through the keep? Something that would allow me to wander without being harassed by the other servants or guards?”

            “Because you wish to explore this area?” Ketsu lifted an eyebrow. “I can continue my tour.”

            “I’d rather go alone.”

            Not because Ketsu was unhelpful—it was the opposite. He was, perhaps, too helpful. I wanted to interact with the others away from his presence. And if I could catch sight of Garrain’s concubines or children, I’d rather face them as myself, rather than having them speak to Ketsu the entire time.

            “You can fetch us tea,” Ketsu suggested, rubbing his chin. “Everything we need is located in the kitchen.”

            I strode to the door and shoved it open. “I’ll return shortly.” Then I stepped out and left, not even bothering waiting for Ketsu to reply.

            The long hallway had a T-intersection that went in three directions—north, east, and south. Castle servants cleaned the floor mats and straightened the decorations, none of them paying me any mind. I decided to head north, not caring about my destination.

            Killing children…

            I shook my head.

            “You wield the most powerful form of death,” the Warden whispered in my ear. “Your destined path in life was always going to be lined in corpses.”

            I gripped my hands into tight fists. “I’ve hated the Ring Warlocks since I was young, and it’s exactly because of this. They kill and destroy wherever they go. No one stopped them—because no one had the power or authority to do so.”

            “You took the ring and placed it on your thumb. Or have you forgotten that? You chose to be a Ring Warlock.”

            Someone screamed.

            I came to an abrupt halt, my heart hammering. One of the doors in the hallway rattled, and several thumps echoed within. I dashed over, slid the door open with all the might, and then stared inside.

            A young woman in the same white servant’s outfit was swinging a broom around with reckless fervor. She whapped something on the floor several times. It appeared to be a brown lump of hair and fur, but after a moment of staring, I realized it was a fist-sized spider.

            Its eight legs were curled in on itself, and its eyes dull.

            This was the largest spider I had ever seen in my life. Most I had laid eyes on were no bigger than my thumb. Was this even normal?

            The woman smacked the gigantic spider for the tenth time, shouting as she did so.

            “Wait!” I leapt forward and held up a hand, blocking the spider from the woman’s assault.

            She snapped her attention to me, her eyes large and watery. “It… it came through the window! Look at how huge and disgusting it is!”

            I turned around. The spider remained curled up on the floor, unmoving. As first, I thought it was dead, but then I spotted its legs unfurling a bit.

            “Spiders are useful.” I knelt next to it. “Even a spider this size has no interest in human flesh. You shouldn’t attack them. They want to eat our pests.”

            With a shaky hand, the woman pointed. “Look. At. It. That’s the largest spider I’ve ever seen in my life! I don’t care if it’s helpful—it’s revolting!”

            “Allow me to handle this.”

            I gently scooped the spider up with both hands. Its furry body tickled my palms, and the creature shuddered in my grasp. Was it frightened? The majority of the spiders in the Tze Empire weren’t harmful to humans, even if they bit someone. The only exception were the crested spiders, with red spines, and this one was so brown and fuzzy, I had almost mistaken it for a kitten.

            “You’re touching it?” the woman asked. She flinched away from me as I walked by her.

            “I’ll take it to the garden.” I stepped out into the hallway. “It won’t bother you anymore.”

            The woman brandished her broom like a warrior held his weapon. “I’ll squish it good next time. Don’t put it near any windows.”

            I ignored her as I hurried to find a door that led to the gardens. Spiders were quite useful, and I always felt sympathy for them whenever someone went out of their way to destroy their webs or squish their bodies.

            This one had been struck several times with a broom, and it seemed to be fading.

            This spider was so large, I could feel its heartbeat weakening.

            “You’re holding that spider like it were your child,” the Warden said with a chuckle. “You’re stranger than even I had imagined.”

            I slid open a door and sunlight washed over me. I stepped out into the lush garden, the greenery bright and beautiful. Then I knelt and gingerly placed the spider on the ground. Its legs twitched, and its eyes seemed to jiggle.

            But it didn’t scurry away.

            Again, sympathy ate at me. The spider didn’t deserve this.

            I thought back to my time in the forest, and how I was able to give life essence to the spirit. After an odd thought, I glanced down at my bandaged hand, wondering just what else I could do with this unwanted burden.

            Could I give essence to the spider?

            I removed my bandages, jabbed a fingernail into the scab over my wound, and then held my palm over the spider. With as much concentration as I could muster, I squeezed out silver-tinted blood, allowing the essence of the trees I had killed to pour out with my vital fluid.

            My blood dropped onto the spider. Some on its thorax, a few droplets on its head, and finally, a few onto the fangs of its mouth.

            The spider twitched and rubbed its fangs, consuming the blood it could shove into its mouth.

            “You’re giving such a gift to an insignificant spider?” The Warden’s tone was far more disgusted this time around. “The spirit in the woods I could understand… But the spider? Really? Have you lost all your senses?”

            To my delight, the spider stirred. It managed to stand on its eight spindly legs, its stance firm. The creature stared at me for a long moment, its eight eyes twinkling. It seemed intelligent—more so than any spider had a right to be. Was it examining my face?

            Then the arachnid scurried into the nearest bush with plentiful energy.

            The essence had certainly helped it.

            “Stay out of the castle,” I whispered.

            I stood, wrapped my hand so that the ring wasn’t visible, and sighed in relief. There was no pain from the essence anymore. I had given everything only a small fraction of my excess essence, though. I didn’t want the poor thing to explode.

            “I knew you were different than any of the other previous Ring Warlocks, but now I’m starting to suspect that’s because you’re insane,” the Warden quipped.

            With a chuckle, I said, “Odd how quickly you recommend murdering children as though it were normal, but the moment I help a little spider, suddenly I’m the one who is insane.”

            “Tsk. Don’t bring logic into this argument. Life is illogical to its core.”

            The hot afternoon wind rushed through the garden. I backed away, and into the castle, irritated by the heat. Why wasn’t it night again? Only then was the temperature bearable.

            Once inside, my attention was drawn to laughter from down the hall. I turned toward it—to a place of the castle I had yet to venture. The beautiful construction, bamboo mat floors, and decorative paintings remained a constant. Wherever I went, there they were. No surface was neglected.

            Loud conversation came from inside a room with a rice-paper door. I crept close, and then stood just beyond it, listening.

            But I didn’t get much time to eavesdrop. The door slammed open with a clack and before me stood an imposing brute. The man wore silk robes, his hairy chest exposed, and his belt could barely contain everything, since his gut was so large.

            “There you are,” the man said, alcohol on his breath. He grabbed my arm, and I cringed with disgust from his touch. “We were wondering who was going to pour our drinks. Get in here!”

            The man yanked me forward, my feet stumbling over the polished wooden floors of this grand dining room. The scent of lavish, spiced foods hit me like a wave, and while I hadn’t been hungry before, I was now. The large man shoved me further, and I staggered, my eyes adjusting to the flickering light of ornate lanterns hanging from the high, vaulted ceiling.

            “Here’s the drink boy!” the man proclaimed.

            Four individuals sat at a low, lacquered table, their silken robes of crimson and gold shimmering in the soft light. Before them, an obscene array of dishes lay spread, a testament to their gluttony and excess.

            There were more plates than people in this castle, I was willing to bet. Dozens upon dozens. Plump dumplings that glistened with a savory sheen, while mountains of the freshest fish sat in bowls off the side.

            And the rice…

            Everything came with rice soaked in some sort of broth, along with intricate assortments of pickled vegetables, their colors vibrant and alluring.

            The man brought me to the table and motioned to a pitcher of rice wine. “There you go, boy. Keep the drinks comin’!”

            He laughed as he took a seat on a pillow.

            There were only three men and one woman in this grand dining hall. Somehow, it felt empty, while also being filled to the brim with food and laughter.

            “Where was I?” the woman said. She was older—in her forties?—but quite well cared for. “Oh, that’s right. Every time the man pissed, it hurt so bad he was shouting.” The woman covered her mouth as she tittered. “Every few hours, there was just screaming from the side of the road.”

            The three men all roared with laughter at this.

            I picked up the pitcher and glowered at the insides. Wine obviously transformed people.

            “These are the castle advisors,” the Warden muttered. “Aiko, the woman, is the master of coin, and Garrain’s first consort. The hefty man is Hideo, the military strategist. Rein is the thin man furthest from the woman—he’s the magistrate of justice. And Tamo, the older one, is the castle overseer, the one in charge of discipline.”

            The Warden had rattled off the information with such disgust, I was surprised the invisible presence didn’t gag on it.

            I took my pitcher over to Tamo, my anger already rising. He was a thin man with the skin of someone who had once been overweight. Now it hung on him like a second set of robes—the winkles of his skin so deep, someone could hide in them.

            As I poured the man more wine, I met the man’s gaze. He had dark, cold eyes. Calculating eyes.

            “I apologize for my delay.” I lifted the pitcher, his cup perfectly filled.

            Tamo sneered. “You better watch yourself, boy. This castle is no longer tolerating the lazy and disrespectful.” He took a long sip of his wine before slamming the cup on the table. “The good times for you layabouts are over.”

            Hideo, the man who had dragged me in here, waved a hand. “Stop that! This is why the servants avoided us for so long. You’re too harsh. They’re all afraid.”

            Aiko nodded, her smile still in place from all her laughing. “It’s true. You burn so many of them now that the ashes are starting to cause a problem. I suggest you try encouraging people with honey rather than boiling water.”

            “I don’t need help with my position,” Tamo shouted, the mood in the room instantly souring. “We need less people anyway, isn’t that right? The cursed summer is bad on everyone. We need to keep people’s mind off the lack of food, and on how they can better serve our lord.”

            “You’re the one responsible for burning people?” I whispered—not even intentionally. I had been so wrapped up in this conversation I had forgotten my place as the lowly server boy.

            Tamo didn’t forget my place, though. He swiveled his head and glared, his wrinkled face a travesty to gaze upon. “What was that, boy? You keep your mouth shut or you’ll be going to the fires.”

            “This is what I’m talking about,” Hideo said with a roar of a laugh. It honestly startled me how funny this man thought that was. “You can’t kill the only one serving us drinks! What’s wrong with you lately?”

            “The ashes keep plenty of demons at bay,” Tamo shouted, almost louder than Hideo. “I’ve told you that a million times. More discipline, more ashes—this castle will be in tip top shape. Garrain-nox will reward me when he returns, you’ll see.”

            I walked away from Tamo and moved around the table so I could pour Aiko more wine. As I went, I spoke under my breath.

            “Is that true?” I asked the Warden. “About the ashes repelling demons?”

            The Warden chuckled. “Demons born of felheen don’t fear ashes. They are drawn to fire so they can snuff it out. But demons born of the dayvu… They leave the lands of ashes alone. They consider them kindred.”

            So, there was some truth in Tamo’s claims, though rather horrific.

            “Will you keep the dayvu’s demons away with the same method?” the Warden asked. “You’re struggling to kill a few defenseless kids—I somehow doubt you’ll shield yourself in human ashes.”

            I had been so focused on the Warden’s words, I hadn’t watched my step. I stumbled, and in the process, dumped the whole pitcher of wine across Aiko.

Chapter Sixteen

“During the Age of Cinders, all life was almost extinguished.

But then the first emperor of the Tze Empire appeared.

Claiming to be a child of Axraksii, the first emperor ended the harsh summer with innate magic.”

- A quote from ‘Varinth’s Beginnings, a History Book’

            Aiko gasped and then froze in place, her shock consuming her.

            “Lady Aiko!” Hideo stood and rushed around the table. “Are you okay?”

            Aiko’s beautiful silken robes were soaked and awkwardly clung to her body. Her cheeks grew as red as her scarlet outfit as her whole body shook.

            “How dare you?” Aiko wrapped her arms around herself as Hideo attempted to pat her dry with his own robes. “Who allowed this clumsy oaf into the castle?”

            Tamo waggled his old finger, as if to say, I told you so.

            “Come, Aiko-mya. I’ll take you to your room so you can change.” Hideo patted more of her clothing with his own, his movements betraying the fact he was intoxicated. He dabbed all around her body, practically slapping her, and sometimes in shameful places.

            “Get off me.” Aiko thrashed an arm and knocked her plate of rice and dumplings off the table, the porcelain clattering across the polished wooden floor.

            I hadn’t heard it until then, but the Warden’s laughter was growing so loud, I could no longer ignore him. This, clearly, was the height of amusement.

            Aiko jerked away from Hideo, more shaken than a woman of her station should be for such a small accident. When she turned her icy glare on me, she must’ve sensed my disdain, because she stiffened.

            “I apologize,” I whispered.

            Aiko point at me. “Get rid of this one. Castrate him! Burn him. He’s done this on purpose. I saw it in his eyes. He’s a piece of filth sent here by Lila or Yissah, I know it.”

            Castrate me for this? She was making my decision to kill Garrain’s women and children quite easy.

            As Hideo continued to blunder in his attempts to help, the thinnest man at the table stood. What was this tin’s man name again? Rein. The magistrate of justice. At least according to the Warden—who had yet to stop laughing.

            Rein walked over to me, his movements composed, and then lightly tapped my shoulder before motioning to the door.

            “Punish him,” Aiko commanded. “No one should be allowed to embarrass me. I’ve had enough of everyone’s jealously!”

            “I’ll handle it,” Rein stated, boredom in his tone.

            If only because I wanted out of this room, I followed the man as he strode to the nearest door. Part of me wondered if I should just make up my mind, and rid the castle of these people, but I held back, reminding myself I should have a clear head before making my final decision.

            I could kill them at any point—none of them seemed capable of defending against my magic. They didn’t even know I had it.

            Once we exited the dining room, and stood in the hallway, Rein turned to me.

            His black hair was gray at his temples, and he kept some facial hair—a thin mustache that hung on the top of his lip. His eyes were sharp, though, and his boredom as apparent on his face as it was in his tone.

            “You must be new,” Rein said matter-of-factly. “Please. Allow me to escort you back to the servant’s quarters. You should stay there for the rest of the day, out of Lady Aiko’s sight. Tomorrow, you will be long forgotten, your sins a bad wine memory.”

            It took me a second to realize what he was doing. “You’re not going to punish me?” I whispered.

            “Do you want him to punish you?” The Warden snickered, still amused. “What kind of masochist asks that question?”

            Oblivious to the Warden’s comments, Rein lifted an eyebrow. “I studied justice at the capital city, under the emperor’s greatest advisors. Do you know what happens when the punishment for all crimes is death?”

            Intrigued, I shook my head. “No. Is it… everyone dies?”

            Rein laughed and scoffed at the same time. “Hardly. At some point, the lord’s servants will realize that the punishment for an accident is the exact same as rebellion—and only one of them allows you to keep your dignity, and perhaps your life.”

            That drew a chuckle from me.

            Very true.

            But I had seen the burning bodies out in the castle yard.

            “Why are the soldiers burning so many people, then?” I asked, my voice low.

            It wasn’t my place to ask—servants weren’t supposed to voice such concerns—but Rein didn’t seem to mind.

            “Our Ring Warlock occasionally listens to my council. His son does not. His son prefers the overseer’s judgments.” Rein pointed at me. “And I hope you’ll keep that in mind. Our Ring Warlock travels away from the castle frequently. For your sake, be aware of those times.”

            Then he gestured to the hall, and the two of us walked its length at a leisurely pace. Rein kept his hands behind his back, one hand holding the wrist of the other. He seemed neither troubled or hurried—and even a little happier to be away from the dining room.

            He seemed wiser than most.

            Perhaps he could help me.

            “Um, Rein-rah?” I struggled with the words because I wasn’t entirely certain about the honorific I should use. Rah was used for scholars, and people with great wisdom, and mya was used for someone who had a higher social standing.

            Hopefully I hadn’t offended him.

            He didn’t correct me, so I assumed I had chosen correctly. “Yes?” Rein replied.

            “Can I ask you a hypothetical question?”

            “You may.”

            I glanced around, double checking that we were alone. We were, but I lowered my voice regardless. “If a new Ring Warlock took over a castle, would they harm the people within? Would they kill the previous Ring Warlock’s family? And perhaps the servants? Or the soldiers?”

            “That most certainly depends on the personality of the warlock,” Rein said, sardonic. “You can never tell with them. You see things differently at the top of the mountain—remember that.”

            I shook my head. “With apologies, I didn’t mean what would happen, I meant what would you consider strategic, or proper.”

            “Do you hear yourself?” The Warden choked back a scoff. “You’re so on the nose with your question you might as well show him your ring while you’re at it. Subtly and subterfuge are clearly not your strong suits.”

            “Tis a very odd question,” Rein muttered.

            I didn’t respond, but that didn’t seem to matter. Rein pinched his mustache as he mulled over the question.

            When he finally replied, it was with carefully chosen words. “One of the foremost duties of a warlock is to preserve the tranquility of all within their domain. By addressing potential issues before they escalate, the warlock not only safeguards their own peace of mind, but also instills confidence among their people.”

            “Right,” I muttered.

            Rein waved a finger. “However, you can over-prune a plant. Thus, should a new warlock take up residence, it is unlikely that someone of your position would be at risk of the warlock’s wrath, if that’s what you’re truly worried about.”

            “Even the crusty advisor—who is clearly done with everyone’s shit—agrees with me,” the Warden said, haughty and sarcastic. “You should kill everyone in charge, and then the old warlock’s family. Probably brutally. And in front of everyone. Make it a show.”

            I ignored the Warden and offered a deep bow of my head to the magistrate. “Thank you for answering my question and assuaging my fears.”

            Rein smoothed his mustache and smiled.

            There were no more words between us as we traveled the long halls of Wist Castle. When we arrived at a set of doors, Rein stopped.

            “I’ll be returning to the dining room,” he said.

            “Thank you again.”

            The man turned on his heel and left me. I assumed these were the servant’s quarters—one side for men, one for women—but I didn’t bother going inside. Instead, I waited until Rein was out of sight, and then went straight back to Ketsu.

CONTINUE THE STORY HERE.