Year 2567, 40th of Chillwind, Hour 11 – Yorn’s and Solaria’s Home, Living Room – Solaria’s POV

I blink my eyes as my mind comes to consciousness. Drukl is still asleep on my bed, his right hind leg twitching from whatever dream he’s having. Magical Meditation is canceled from my palms, as my arms stretch above my head.

Checking my watch with a yawn, the time reads 11:06. I feel a wave of confusion.

“Why didn’t he wake me,” I mutter to myself, scratching my left jaw. “he’s becoming senile in his old age.”

Yorn isn’t seen anywhere within our living area, as the sound of slow, heavy hammer strikes reach my ears.

I climb from my bed, the motion causing Drukl to snap from his sleep. His head bolts up before he bounds from my bed onto the floor.

“And you’re getting to be old and senile too,” I rub the top of the wolf’s head as he happily lolls his tongue. I look at the custom-made calendar hanging above my bed.

Today is the 40th of Chillwind.

“Really…? huh,” I mutter to myself.

I guess that’s why Yorn left me in meditation for so long. 25 years… time really does fly.

I use Telekinesis to open my old pack, retrieving a clean, royal purple t-shirt and head to the bathroom for my morning routine.

==000==

“Yorn, I can’t believe you,” I say, walking into the workshop.

The old Minotaur is standing over the workbench, sending a confused stare in my direction.

“You let me meditate longer, while not getting extra sleep yourself.”

“Today’s a special day. I figured you would appreciate it,” he replies, using his body to not-so-subtly hide whatever it is he has on the workbench. “and I wasn’t tired. Don’t worry about me, Solaria. I can take care of myself.”

“Why is it when you say that, a wonderful quote from yesterday comes to mind?” I stroke my chin in a thinking motion.

Yorn’s face gains an embarrassed look.

“It was one time…” he mutters out.

“Don’t worry about me, Solaria,” I repeat the words he had said in a deep voice. “I swear, I’m still young enough to carry almost 200 pounds worth of raw materials. Trust me!”

Yorn grumbles.

I laugh while walking up to him.

“I’m only teasing. Relax,” I say with a smile, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“What are you making?”

Yorn hides the item in his hands.

“You can see it later,” he says.

“Fine, be that way,” I back off and move to my over armorstand. A pale cloth covers the armor that sits upon it.

“What’s left for you to do?” Yorn asks, stepping over to look at the armorstand as well.

“Just need to try it on and make any necessary adjustments,” I say, excitement building in my stomach. “I did the final touches yesterday before falling into meditation.”

“You meditate so often,” he comments. “I figured you would’ve lessened your time spent doing that.”

“No can do. I need to keep expanding the size of my Magic Pool. You should be doing the same. I’ve noticed you haven’t been recently.”

Yorn rolls his eyes with a smile, turning to the shop door.

“I’m too old to spend nights meditating rather than sleeping,” he says, unlocking the door and heading into the shop.

“I don’t recall you using your age as an excuse to avoid overexerting yourself…”

Yorn rolls his eyes, disappearing behind the shop door. I watch the door close before quietly retrieving a dagger wrapped in cloths that I had hidden with my armor. I take the wrapped blade into our living area, making sure Yorn hadn’t suspected anything.

After confirming he hadn’t, I unwrap the blade and look over the weapon.

The handle is fitted with black iron, a rather expensive material to acquire in Norrg’kl, with the pommel forming into the head of a wolf. It also had a ribbed grip along the bladed side. The blade itself is silver steel that curved back as the blade extended, containing intricate etchings of random runes.

The runes themselves were glowing with a faint red hue, the result of an enchantment that was set onto the blade. It was very taxing, taking me several days to complete. But, it was well worth the time and magic to complete such a gift for Yorn.

This weapon is some of my finest work, outside of my new armor set I had been working on for the past few years. Unfortunately, Yorn neglected to teach me leather work, meaning I was unable to shape a proper sheathe that would be equal to my talented creation.

Fortunately, there was someone with adequate skills to almost match my own abilities.

I slip on my cloak and cast Exposure, heading out the door with the rewrapped dagger in hand. The decision is instantly filled with regret as my face is whipped by the icy air of the blizzard. I throw up a hand to protect my face. It blocks the snow enough to allow me to see my path over to F’jub’s leather shop.

I rush into his store, slamming the door shut before disabling Exposure. I wipe the snow from my face and cloak before looking around. At the counter, F’jub is speaking with another Minotaur.

I patiently wait for him to finish, checking out his recent works. Finally, after a few minutes, the other Minotaur leaves. I approach the counter, greeting F’jub with a curt wave.

“I thought Nuu’r was the only one foolish enough to brace the storm,” he quips. “guess I was wrong.”

“Save your quips you fool,” I wisecrack. “Have you finished the sheathe?”

“Of course,” F’jub replies with a grin. “Give me a moment.”

He retreats into the back, returning in under a minute. In his hands is the sheathe I ordered for the dagger, even more extravagant than what was expected. The black sheathe curved with the blade, matching the silver runes with golden ones.

I slip the blade into the sheathe, hearing a satisfying ‘shink’ as the weapon fits in without resistance.

“You did an excellent job,” I compliment. “How much do I owe?”

“Nah,” F’jub waves his hand. “I haven’t had the chance to make a sheathe in a while. It was a fun challenge. Besides, I like you and that old Minotaur well enough. Consider it a gift for lasting 25 years in this cesspool of a town.”

“Won’t argue with that,” I say. “Thank you.”

F’jub gives me a two-fingered salute before returning to the back of his shop.

I wrap the dagger, snug in its new sheathe, and secure it on my belt. After checking for F’jub’s presence, I remove 15 Gyffs from my coin pouch and quietly leave them on his counter before returning home.

After arriving safely in my home from the storm, the built-up snow is shaken from my shoulders. I remove my cloak and slip the dagger into my pack, hiding it deep within the bowels of the bag.

Once the dagger is sufficiently hidden, I head through the workshop door to help Yorn with whatever tasks we had to complete for today.

40th of Chillwind, Hour 22 – Yorn’s and Solaria’s Front Shop – Solaria’s POV

“Go ahead and close up for today.”

I hear Yorn leave the shop area as I secure the lock on the safe before moving around the counter to the front door. The door is locked as well., Turning to head into the Workshop, I look around the shop at all the faintly glowing weapons.

Enchanting our products was the best idea I’ve ever come up with… Should’ve figured a dull shine would draw in more customers…

I retreat to the workshop and continue to our living area. As I enter, Yorn gestures for me to join him at the table. Drukl is already there, asleep at his master’s feet. I sit down, waiting for whatever Yorn wanted.

“For most of my later years,” Yorn begins. “I never imagined that I would ever feel happiness, or joy brought by another. I mean, I have Drukl, but he’s different. I never thought there would be a close bond between myself and another Sentient, and a small part of me was fearful of such a thing. But then, you stumbled your way into my life. Heh, living with you has been quite the experience,”

Yorn chuckles.

“You made me realize that waiting for the right moment or the right soul to come along and fix everything was never going to happen. The only way things could change would be if I stepped up and solved it myself. So, what I’m meaning to say, is thank you for all the, colorful, help and care you’ve given to me over these past years.”

Yorn passes a small wood box over to me. I carefully lift the lid, revealing what lies inside.

A platinum medallion with a golden band wrapping around the circumference is within. On the side facing me is a gold etching of a parhelion, same as my Mark. I run my fingers over the symbol before removing the medallion from the case and flipping it over. On the other side is a pair of gold horns, sharing the same shape as Yorn’s. On both faces of the medallion are runes, the ones on Yorn’s side glowing yellow with the others unaffected.

“Wow,” I say, awestruck by the craftship. “It’s beautiful.”

“It took me quite a while to make, especially with how busy we’ve been these past months,” Yorn comments.

“That speech was very touching, and not to sound ungrateful, but how did you discover my Mark?” I ask.

“Before you accuse me of something heinous, I realize how sacred your kind’s Marks are, and I would never purposely break that sacredness, even though I honestly don’t understand it.”

“I didn’t accuse you of anything,” I say. “I am simply curious as to how you obtained this knowledge.”

“It wasn’t hard, the Mark’s on your shoulders. I assumed that’s where your kind’s Mark is located.”

“On my shoulders,” I ask, confused. “My Marks are on my hips, like any other Anthow’piovel.”

Yorn shrugs.

“Perhaps you’re a unique case. But, forgive me if I’ve overstepped any boundaries.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I reassure. “Traditionally, our Marks are meant only for the eyes of our mates, but those considered as family are allowed to see them. I would say that you are more family than any of my blood relatives ever were. Besides, tradition is idiotic, in my opinion.”

I look over the medallion again.

I know the perfect enchantment for this…

“That reminds me,” I say, walking over to my pack and retrieving the wrapped dagger. “I made you something as well.”

I hand the cloth to Yorn. He gently unfolds it, his eyes going wide as the weapon and the sheathe are revealed.

“You made this?” Yorn asks, astonishment in his voice.

“I’ll admit, F’jub did the sheathe, but the dagger is my own creation. It’s my way of giving back for everything you’ve done for me.”

Yorn draws the blade, causing the dull red hue to become slightly brighter.

“I also enchanted it, with the Enchantment of Bonding. It’s a combination of Courage, Harmony, and Clear Mind. When you wield the dagger and you’re near those you share a tight bond with, you’ll feel braver, calmer, and more focused.”

“So that’s why you kept your Enchanting castings hidden from me for these past weeks,” Yorn chuckles out. “I was thinking you were embarrassed of being watched.”

“I was never embarrassed. I don’t care if you watch me perform an Enchantment dance, but it would be troublesome for you to watch me enchant your own gift would it not?”

“Very true,” Yorn agrees. “Speaking of Enchantment dances, are you going to enchant your medallion?”

I sigh, rolling my eyes.

“Really? Resorting to Telepathy? I thought you were better than this.”

“I only do it because it annoys you,” Yorn says with a smug grin.

I roll my eyes again, setting the medallion in the center of the living area and walk back to the table, igniting Enchanter’s Touch into my palms. I inhale deeply, holding the breath for a moment before releasing it and focusing on the medallion.

I begin to twist my hands in a methodical movement, sending red streaks of magical energy into the medallion. The object begins to rise off the ground, steadily glowing brighter with each streak. The graceful movements shift from only my arms and fingers to my entire body. Arcane whirring echoes throughout the room with strands of energy arcing from my palms and dancing fingers into the floating medallion, the object humming with its own ethereal tone.

I close my eyes, feeling my mind become lost in the delicate and flowing movements. An unknown amount of time, what feels like a calm eternity, passes as a build-up of tension in the back of my mind starts to spike. My eyes open and I close my fingers in a motion similar to a conductor ending a performance.

The medallion flashes red with a hum, gently settling down on the ground. It holds the same dull red hue as all my enchanted weapons do.

I fall into a sitting position, panting heavily. Even with my heightened magical strength, performing enchantments is still magically and physically draining. Still, every casting and every ‘dance’ was an experience of it’s own; something I would never grow tired of.

“Beautiful performance, as always,” Yorn says with a brief bout of clapping. “What did you enchant it with?”

“Something to help fight against the weather,” I say, still recovering from the magical drain. “Now you don’t have to go outside and face the cold as often.”

“Don’t take that away from me as well. I’ve never been bothered by the cold!”

“Oh please,” I say, rising from the ground. “You’re becoming way too old for such activities, admit it.”

“I didn’t realize I signed up to live with a caretaker,” Yorn snorts.

“Think of it as a gesture of my affection. Now then, I’m starving. What do you want to eat?”

“Oh no,” Yorn exclaims. He pushes me into a seat at the table. “There’s no way in Tartarus I’m letting you cook anything, ever!”

I open my mouth to retort, until realizing that he’s right. My head sulkily nods in agreement.

“Now then,” Yorn repeats me. “What do you want to eat?”

40th of Chillwind, Hour 28 – Yorn’s and Solaria’s Home, Front Shop – Solaria’s POV

I quietly step into the work room, wearing the Veralax Mesh under-armor for the first time in a long time.

Honestly, I’m amazed it still fits…

I shut the door leading from the living area to the workshop quietly, making sure to not disturb Yorn as he sleeps. I walk over to our weapon rack, looking over my custom longsword.

It shared a similar design to Yorn’s dagger, with the blade faintly curving back to make a faint arc. The metal is all black iron, the handle being fitted with Veralax Mesh fibers from my Captain of the Guard tasset. The crossguard only covered the front side of the blade, leaving the back open for more maneuverability.

It is as much of a work of art as Yorn’s dagger was, although a bit rougher in design. Still, there was pride to be found in this creation.

My real pride and joy however, is my armor. I move to the armor stand, removing the tarp in a single motion. Underneath is my finest work.

The new armor is very similar to my old Captain armor, although this was much less modern and much less open. The armor plates were fully wrapped around the limbs, instead of sitting in the front and sides. Like my old armor, the plackard, tasset, and pauldrons were three plates half-layered atop one another, with the remaining plates staying single-layered. I also had left in a single gold plate from my Captain armor, as a faint reminder of my past life.

I admire my work again, before working on donning it all. The process took a good ten minutes, even with my previous experience. Unlike my old armor, this set didn’t contain the magical seals like before.

The final strap is pulled tight and locked off. I flex the metallic fingers, the metal clinking as my fingers move. My armor fit perfectly against my form and the Veralax Mesh under-armor.

Am I good or what?

I bend over to adjust a bootstrap.

My ear flicks to a dull crash from the living room. I jolt up and listen.

Drukl loudly barks. He never barks.

His barking is cut off by a yelp as faint shouts follow.

At this point, my soldier’s mentality takes over. I sprint to the weapon rack, draw my longsword, and dash for the door. I rip the door open, stepping into the room with my blade at the ready.

An unknown Minotaur drives a shortsword into Yorn’s chest.

My vision tunnels onto the Minotaur as the hot rage overwhelms my mind. I ignite and cast Flashfire, throwing the spell directly at the Minotaur over Yorn. A burst of white explodes in his eyes, causing him to scream out in agony.

He claws at his eyes before I close the distance and slide my longsword up through his armpit. The blade pierces out of his neck before I swiftly draw it out. To my left, near the doorway, two more Minotaurs prepare to attack.

One raises a crossbow in my direction. With a flick of my wrist, I ignite and cast Telekinesis. In a squeezing motion, I cause his crossbow to collapse in on itself. With the wood splinters of the weapon, grasped with Telekinesis, I drive them into the Minotaur’s neck. He gives a gurgling gasp before falling to the ground.

The last Minotaur looks to his clanmate then to me, uncertainty upon his face. Using that pause, I cross the room and swing my sword down across his chest. He raises his arm to block the strike, causing it to be severed from his body. As he screams, the attack is followed through with a spin and a cut across his stomach.

A fourth Minotaur appears in the doorway. Instantly, he spots me surrounded by the carnage of his fallen clanmates. He turns to flee.

I drop my sword and fully cast Telekinesis, pulling the Minotaur into my home. He struggles to break from my grasp. I bear my teeth at him, feeling the familiarity of seething rage as the symbol of Clan Hytori upon his chest is recognized.

I slowly bring my hands together, my fingers held like claws. The telekinetic grasp on his body is directed to shatter his bones and send the splinters into his muscles. From his fingers and toes to his femur and collarbone, I provide as much pain that can be mustered to the leathersack. After I can see his shattered collarbone pushing against his skin, and notice his swelled tears striking the ground, I twist his spine in separate directions.

I drop what remains of that Minotaur to the ground and spin around to help Yorn and Drukl. After crossing over half the room, I hear a groan. Whipping around, I see the Minotaur with the severed limb holding a trigger in his remaining hand.

My eyes go wide as I watch his thumb press down on the button.

I ignite and cast a shield spell around myself, Drulk, and Yorn as a bright orange flash of fire and shrapnel explodes from the Minotaur.

The rumble of the explosion fades away, leaving only the crackle of fire and shifting of broken wood.

My eyes slowly open.

The entire front of our living area is destroyed. Fire is licking at the wood ceiling and floors. My bed, my pack, and the remains of the Minotaurs are completely gone. Anything in the vicinity has been obliterated.

I drop the shield and ignite Frostwave, spreading the ice upon the flames. In a minute, the fires are all quenched. By this point, I feel the cold night air seep into the open home. The change of temperature is ignored.

I run over to Yorn and Drukl, removing my gauntlets on the way. Yorn is on his bed, and Drukl lies unconscious next to him. Both are bleeding heavily.

I carefully grasp Yorn’s shoulder, casting X-Ray to see what damage he had sustained.

It’s bad.

The shortsword had broken through a rib and penetrated into his liver. I switch from X-Ray to Organic Regeneration, preparing to heal him.

“Get… Drukl,” Yorn weakly wheezes out, trying to push my hand away from his wound.

“You first,” I snap, pushing aside his attempts to stop my healing.

“Get Drukl!” Yorn’s voice is filled with alarmed trepidation. In a bout of strength, he swats my hand away.

I yell in frustration, using Telekinesis to temporarily prevent further bloodloss. I cast X-Ray on Drukl and using Muscular Regeneration to heal the more simplistic flesh wound.

I turn back to Yorn, casting Organic Regeneration to repair the damage dealt to his liver.

“Solaria,” Yorn whispers.

“Hold on,” I reply, igniting Skeletal Regeneration after his liver is fully repaired. My hand is shaking. I steel myself and focus on healing Yorn.

‘Lis… listen to me,” he murmurs.

I ignore him, moving my palm over his gaping wound. He grabs my hand, holding it firmly.

“Yorn! What in the farak are you doing?!”

He looks at me, his eyes unfocused.

“P… promise me you won’t retaliate against them for this...”

“Stop! let me heal you,” Anger grows within my voice. I try to pull my hand away. He doesn’t let go.

“Break… the cycle,” he whispers. “Don’t go after them…”

“Let me heal your wounds you faraking leathersack!” I yell, ripping my hand away from his.

“Promise me,” he murmurs. I can barely hear his voice.

I cast Skeletal Regeneration, struggling to heal him fast enough. His rib begins to regenerate, but he’s already lost too much blood for his body to handle. I’m too late.

I cancel out Skeletal Regeneration, grabbing his hand and holding it tight. The anger in my chest falls away, being replaced with a dull aching.

“I… I promise,” I breathe out, my voice void of emotion.

“Good…” he mutters.

His weak grip on my hand falls away.

“Thank… you……m, my daugh…ter…” he breathes out before his body falls still. The magical aura in his body fades away.

The reality finally hits me.

“Yorn? Yorn! Don’t leave ME LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!!”

Pain, sorrow, betrayal, and numbness all charge throughout my body as I fall back onto the ground in complete shock. My mind can’t seem to process what just happened.

“Oh no…” A voice says from my left.

A sudden surge of unholy anger floods my veins. I slowly crane my neck to see F’jub fall onto his knees a few meters away. Touching both Yorn and Drukl, I focus on a grove a few kilometers north of Norrg’kl. Teleportation is cast, taking all three of us to the location.

Drukl jolts awake, stumbling around from the sudden and unexpected teleportation. He recovers quickly enough, peering around the unfamiliar location until he finds Yorn. He approaches, softly nudging Yorn’s arm with his snout. The wolf begins to whine, quite softly at first. The pitiful sound steadily grows into a mournful howl.

The animal releases intense grief as I’ve never seen from a non-Sentient creature. My own emotions break out as well. Fierce, scorching fury forces the numbness away. I turn away from Yorn and Drukl to face the walls of the grove.

I unleash the coursing anger. Like my previous magical outbursts, powerful magical energy explodes from my body. I see nothing, only the face of the one that caused this whole mess; the one that forced me to this desolate wasteland in the first place.

Drukl’s mournful howling is drowned out by the cracking magical energy of my own grief.

==000==

I drop to my knees, the energy in my mind and body drained. Looking around at my snow-covered surroundings, the destruction of my anger has taken it’s toll.

The thriving winter grove is a desolated wasteland of broken trees and smoking craters. I simply sit in the snow, recovering from my outburst.

Drukl is snuggled against Yorn’s unmoving body, shivering from the cold. I remove the medallion from around my neck and place it around Drukl’s allowing the Weather Resistance enchantment to protect him from the cold.

Instantly, the cold penetrates through my armor, the metal plates not helping at all.

I need to find his brother… He deserves to know…

I ignite Mind Meld and press my hand against Yorn’s body.

My vision of the night is surrounded by swirling black as I delve into Yorn’s fading mind.

There is no resistance, nor are there any memories. I feel panic start to rise, as sudden dull noises sound from around me. With some sifting, I follow the link to the source; a memory of Yorn’s visit to his brother.

“Ahh, Yorn. Back so soon?”

Cent greets me from his rustic door with a smile.

“Of course, Cent,” I reply. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He steps aside, allowing me to enter.

“How was your journey?” Cent asks. Wasn’t too much trouble, I hope?”

“It wasn’t as bad as the last time I came here!” I walk over to one of his chairs. “Now that was a snowstorm………

The memory begins to fizzle out. I quickly pull it to myself and connect it with my thoughts. The location of Yorn’s brother flashes into my mind as if it’s a memory of my own.

I prepare to cancel out the spell, when another remaining memory catches my attention. It’s fading, but I manage to find it.

My heart aches at its sight.

“I’ve decided to listen to your advice and…”

There’s another long pause as she musters the words.

“…and drop my task of revenge against Celestia.”

“Really?” I question, feeling skeptical of her devotions to such an idea. “What brought you to this conclusion?”

She looks down for a moment before making eye contact again.

“To be perfectly honest, I’ve grown attached to this place; to you, and surprisingly, to Drukl. The bond that’s grown is one I’ve not had since my father.”

My heart suddenly feels warm inside. The emptiness left by my regretful actions as a young child is filled with another emotion: joy. I’ve waited for several years to hear those words. And now that she’s said them, I know I’ll never forget them……

The memory also begins to fade away. Like before, the memory is snatched up and saved amongst my own. I can feel the happiness that Yorn had felt. I pull out of his head back into the real world.

The warmth fades, replaced by the bitter air. I swallow down more grief, working to focus on finding my way to his brother’s homestead.

43rd of Chillwind, Hour 9 – Frozen North, Cent’s Homestead – Solaria’s POV

The past few days have been a blur. The last clear memory can recall was melding with Yorn. Everything from that moment on until now was unclear, with faint bits of arriving at Yorn’s brother’s homestead.

I slip a gauntlet onto my hand, locking the straps into place.

I know that I should face the recent events now, as to not go through what I did with my birthfather. But breaking past ways of coping is not simple. I take the easy route and try to push the grief away, back into the deepest recessions of my mind.

I should’ve tried to bring him back… I had the power to…

I shake my head, forcing the thoughts away. No reason to dwell on what had passed.

I look around the room that Yorn’s brother had graciously offered to me, before grabbing and slipping on a new survival pack given to me by Yorn’s nephew. The gear within is old and worn, but it’s better than nothing.

Unfortunately, the cloak that F’jub had made me was lost in the explosion, meaning my travels would be less comfortable.

I head down the stairs, walking into the central room of the home. The fireplace has a layer of meshed iron wrapped around it.

A brief smile comes to my face at the tiny amount of amusement it brings.

“Leaving so soon?” The younger Minotaur asks.

“There’s no reason for me to remain here,” my voice is carefully neutral.

Drukl is resting next to the fireplace, his head raising up as he hears my voice. He slowly stands and meanders over to greet me, his tail faintly wagging.

I kneel down and stroke his neck.

“You aren’t the only one who’ll miss him,” I say to Drukl, giving a melancholy sigh. “This is not going to be easy to say, but I can’t stay here.”

Drukl’s head leans to one side.

“I wish I could take you with me, but where I’m going, what I plan to do; it’s no place for an old boy like you.”

A whine escapes his muzzle.

“These will take good care of you, just like Yorn did.”

He paws at my arm. I hug the old wolf.

“Do not worry, I would not put you through such pain again. You were as much family as he was.”

A lump forms in my throat. I swallow it down.

“Good-bye, my friend.”

I ignite and cast Mind Meld, breaking through Drukl’s weak mental barrier. I sift through his memories until I find the multiple memories that contain me. I cast a spell I never wished to use: Mind Wipe. With a heavy heart, Any memory of myself is pulled from his mind, while the memories of Yorn are kept intact. It is surprising to see how much the wolf remembered, making the task so much more painful.

In a final motion, I replace the last journey he took with me of one with Yorn’s nephew in my place, before pulling out.

I can see Drukl’s glazed eyes, watching his dazed face a moment before casting Drowse on him. The wolf falls asleep on the ground, breathing contently as he dreams.

“You better take good care of him,” I say to the nephew, making my voice sound aggressive. “Else I’ll make you regret it if you don’t.”

He holds his hands up defensively.

“I swear, He’ll live the rest of his life in luxury.”

“Good.”

I stand up, give a curt nod to both Minotaurs, and leave through the front door. With a deep breath and a moment to focus my mind, I head out into the clear tundra, traveling in a general southeast direction.

45th of Chillwind, Hour 2 – Frozen North, Clan Hytori – Solaria’s POV

He is extremely vulnerable. My entire being wants nothing more than to rip him limb from limb, hearing the agonizing screams. It is a similar fate to that of his father, but this time I would not regret my actions.

Still, I couldn’t.

As I watch the slow rising and falling of the Clan Hytori chieftain’s sleeping chest, I ignite Telekinesis. Clenching my hand, the spell seizes his lungs in place, completely removing their ability to inhale and exhale.

The chieftain jolts awake, silently clawing at his chest. He sees me and tries to stand, but I use Telekinesis with my other hand to hold him in place. I remain silent as he struggles to bring air into his lungs, only his eyes flickering about in panic.

“It would be so easy to crush your heart,” I snarl out after a bout of silence. “to cause it to burst in your chest. It would be fitting, considering you destroyed mine!”

His wild eyes stare at mine.

“Even better, I could wipe out your entire clan with a wave of my hand, leaving you alive to experience the aftermath, and you would be powerless to stop me.”

There’s a pause.

“But, I’m going to be the bigger Sentient. I’m going to break the cycle and walk away to let you and your wretch live a long life.”

I let go of his lungs, allowing air to return. He gasps and coughs.

“Someone! Help me!! He cries out, trying to struggle out of my grasp.

No aid comes to him.

Sphere of Silence is such a useful spell…

“Understand this,” I hiss, forcing my telekinetic grasp to squeeze his entire body. “The only reason you will live to see another day is because I made a promise to the one you killed. However, if you try to follow me, or if I ever hear news of you causing trouble again, I swear on your life, I will find you and make you feel more pain than you could ever comprehend. Understand?”

He frantically nods.

“As a reminder of our arrangement,” I draw the dagger that was made for Yorn. In a swift motion, I lightly carve a curled ‘Y’ into his chest. His screams the whole time, the sound falling against the magical walls of Sphere of Silence.

“Let this keep fear in your heart, and allow you to remember that I chose to forgive, instead of ripping you apart.”

I clean the dagger on his rough skin before releasing him completely. As he recovers, I ignite and cast Teleportation, taking myself outside the walls of the camp. I teleport again, this time to the horizon south.

I sheathe the dagger and sit down into the snow, giving myself a chance to think.

All I’ve achieved, everything I’ve built this past quarter-century is gone… Once again, what I grew attached to is destroyed. I can’t allow myself to become vulnerable again.

My face hardens.

Everything has betrayed me, has let me down… Everything except my training and my anger…

I stand up.

What else is there for me to lose but my life? I may have promised to break the cycle with that leathersack, but I have no reason to do so with Celestia… She needs to be broken, brought to her knees… Hmm, I can’t do this alone however…

I check through my new pack and look over my weapons before strapping everything onto my body.I begin my journey south towards Zebrica in search a force capable of removing that traitorous sahkira from her position of power.

Author's Note

And alas, the first arc of Outcast has come to a close. It went through many variations, trials, and rewrites, but finally it's out completely. The next arc will take a bit longer to get out, as I want to work on my 1st person writing as well as writing entirely. Hopefully, I'll be much more refined by then.

As always, please leave a comment telling me your questions, concerns, criticisms, or general thoughts!

Here's a better explanation of the spells used if you're interested, written in this Google Doc.

--Thanks to HoneyBacho for assisting with editing and world continuity