Chapter 8: Chapter Eight

The palace allotted him only a moment’s time with his team before summoning him.

Abducted him, more like.

Fortunately, Region 5 was not a long distance away. When his team had arrived back at the academy, they had claimed they’d seen the capital’s attack from their location and boarded the train back immediately.

Besides that brief interaction, Calder’s royal guards entered their quarters unannounced and escorted him from the academy.

He hadn’t even had the opportunity to ask how the mission went.

Obligated to make an impromptu decision, Micah requested Kai’s company. The boy remained clammed up, silent for most of the carriage ride to the palace. He’d clearly expected Micah to fill the silence to what was transpiring, but Micah had his head buried so deep in the mess that was Josiah.

He hardly had time to come up for air.

Kai’s stubbornness did not last long.

“Varuna! Will you tell me what happened?” Kai demanded irritably.

“Chaos happened,” Micah responded promptly. “I’m more interested in knowing how the mission went with the team. Did they do well? Were there any areas that needed improvement?”

“It was uneventful, the others did well, and there are no areas in need of improvement,” Kai replied shortly. “Interestingly enough, as soon as we stepped off the train, we heard the gossip. Why is the palace summoning you? What, exactly, did you do?”

“No areas in need of improvement?” Micah repeated. “I doubt that.”

Edlen sent him a stern look. “What did you do, Egan?”

Micah cast the boy a sidelong glance. “I used my Element in battle.”

It frustrated him. His Element. It wasn’t as if could feel proud of himself for what he’d accomplished today. It had been purely instinctual and unconscious. He’d been powerless to stop it from taking precedence over his actions.

Fortunately, the turnout had worked out in his favor, he just wished he could have more control over it. Next time, he may not be able to stop the power drain from an unneeded and menial task.

Upon Micah’s admission, Kai stilled. Realization came to the boy quickly.

The team knew about his ability to conjure ice as an Element. Though they sensed Micah’s reluctance in discussing the topic, they were intrigued with the notion of an unknown Element. Everyone was intrigued over an unknown Element.

Kai shook his head. “You see what happens when I’m not around?”

Micah turned to look out the window, subdued.

Distracted.

“Calder will have a conniption,” he murmured distantly.

“Conniption? Calder? The whole capital is chattering.” Kai hesitated. “Maybe it was for the best. Those who wavered between supporting and resisting your coronation will readily follow you to the throne. Do you know who was responsible for the attack? Many say it was earth and air Elementals, but they wouldn’t dare attack the capital.”

Micah’s eyes narrowed.

His mind raced.

Josiah had said something similar about people following men who displayed remarkable power. That man. He didn’t truly…

Had he planned this?

“I need to see your acquaintance,” Micah said, sidestepping the question. “The one who studies Noir Users. As soon as Calder is finished today, we need to visit him.”

“And here I thought you asked me to come along because you wanted my company,” Kai mocked. Having no reaction from Micah, he continued. “We were scheduled this morning and missed it. He doesn’t appreciate unannounced visits—”

“I’m sure he can make an exception for the prince, no?”

Kai was silent for a moment. When he replied, repugnance caused his tone to come out pinched. “You’re dropping titles now?”

“If it gets me what I want, I will readily declare my title.” When he recognized the sheer arrogance in his words, Micah pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated. “I apologize, Kai. I have things I need answered urgently. Only he can help me.”

“If those questions are so urgent, Micah, perhaps it’s time you share it with someone. Keeping it contained will only drive you mad.”

Turning away from the window, Micah smiled thinly. “Perhaps it’s too late for that.”

“Well, you and I know that,” Kai said disparagingly, giving Micah a once over. “Let’s try to prevent the public from finding out how unstable you are as well. Yes?”

Micah grinned.

Before he could reply, however, the carriage stopped and a guard promptly opened his door.

No time for responses. No time for recollections or considerations. Fortunately, while he waited for his team to return to the capital, he’d had enough time to recover his wits. Recover from battle, that is. He had yet to come down from the gravity of his recent discoveries, however.

Facing Josiah would prove challenging.

Calder’s personal guards abruptly surrounded both Micah and Kai as they exited the carriage and walked up the palace stairs. The exaggerated protection was clearly for show, simply because Micah doubted there would be any further attacks today.

Before he entered the palace, he ran a critical eye across his surroundings.

There weren’t any demolished buildings near the palace from the attack, yet he knew there was destruction just to the north. The heaviest damage was near the south wall, the exact location Micah and the others had guarded earlier.

Currently, there were masses of people gathered outside the palace, held back by members of the military and royal guards. Usually, the palace was open to the public with designated sections reserved just for the citizens.  

Today, Calder had closed the doors to the public.  

“They’re here to catch a glimpse of you,” Kai assumed. “You’ve become a legend.”

Standing motionlessly on the steps, Micah examined the crowd of citizens. They craned their necks around the obstructive guards and stared back at him with inquiry, curiosity. Some expressed surprisingly clear dislike and disdain, while others expressed marvel and unguarded worship.

Aside from the halls of the academy, this was the first time he stood amongst the public as Ezra. It felt strangely revealing.

“A legend?” Micah repeated with disbelief. The people didn’t appear too smitten. Quite the opposite. “I believe they’re here to implore for assistance. Cleaning and restoration would be a good project for the cadets at the academy, don’t you think?”

“Prince Ezra!” someone yelled in the crowd. “Welcome home!”  

Someone else heckled cruelly in response.

Then another jeered back at the heckler.

A heavy pause festered into a tangible haze of austere tension. Micah watched, incredulous, as a riot suddenly broke out amongst the crowd of citizens. Violence erupted over him. Over merely existing and standing solitary.

Exceptionally intrigued, yet at the same time disturbed, Micah barely comprehended as the guards closed around him and physically hoisted him up the stairs.

“Barbarians.” Kai’s insult barely reached his ears over the mass of guards between them.

“I can walk,” Micah informed wearily.

Hands released him as soon as they were safely inside the palace. Ruffled and exasperated, Micah gathered his composure by leisurely readjusting his uniform and securing his sword holster across his back.

“Your Majesty has requested your presence in the throne room. Alone,” one of the guards—the captain—informed. His dark gaze assessed Micah before looking pointedly at Kai.

“Are the councilmembers already in attendance?” Micah inquired.

Up ahead, the throne room’s double doors were closed and the hallways eerily empty. Micah turned back toward the tall Unda warrior, noting the pinched nostrils, a minuscule sign of the man’s annoyance.

“I believe so, yes,” the Unda male answered.

“Then I request Kai’s attendance,” Micah countered coolly. “Let’s not keep Calder waiting over such silly pretenses, no?”

The captain of Calder’s royal guard wavered for a fleeting moment. His attention jumped over to his comrades before refocusing sharply on Micah. The silver-white hue around the man flickered vexingly, a sharp contrast to the impassiveness of his face. Evidently, taking orders from an uncrowned prince did not sit well with the man.

“Very well, Your Highness,” the man replied as he motioned the others forward.

“What are you doing?” Kai asked quietly as they followed Calder’s personal guards. “There are stipulations in place for a reason, Egan.”

“Are you against being a part of this, Edlen?”

At Micah’s casual and apathetic tone, Kai balked. “You know I’m not. I—”

“Will accompany me inside,” Micah finished, standing tall and waiting for the double doors to open. “I need someone I trust at my back. I’m not entirely familiar with the Royal Council and their politics. I can use another set of eyes.”

The blue-clad guards entered the throne room and lined up shoulder to shoulder on either side of the aisle. Micah watched as they bowed their heads, waiting for him to pass. A sign of submission and reverence, though not necessarily voluntary.

Walking between the wall of guards, Micah emerged from the other side, nearly overwhelmed with the activity inside the throne room.

There were long tables on either side of the carpeted aisle, all situated close to the throne. Close to the king, yet not on the same level of standing. Six chairs were at each of the tables, though only a few people currently occupied them.

Micah assumed the Royal Council sat there when they were in session.

Alongside the perimeter of the room, crimson-clad guards stood motionlessly.

Josiah’s royal guards.

To the side of the throne room, pieces of long fabric lay underneath eight prone figures. Most of the assembled councilmembers stood near the bodies, unabashedly ogling the corpses with blatant and morbid intrigue.

Upon his entrance, the attention quickly focused on him.

Under their stares, Micah became a peculiar specimen. An unknown. He identified a few faces of the councilmembers, amused that there were an equal number of Igni and Unda members. Two were women, one Unda—Cain’s mother—and the other an Igni woman.

Micah turned toward the raised dais, encountering Josiah sitting upon his throne.

Josiah watched him attentively, his expression bored, yet his orange eyes intent. Micah’s pulse quickened underneath the unfathomable scrutiny, feeling small, feeling insignificant. Across from Josiah, he’d never felt so inconsequential.

Not after what he discovered about the man.

Not after he realized what was inside Josiah.

Upon recognizing his pathetically weak state of mind, Micah forced confidence through his self-consciousness and doubt. He readjusted his stance and lifted his chin defiantly. Even from a distance, Micah observed Josiah’s pupils dilating predatorily.

Leaning his chin upon his hand, the man smirked at Miah’s nonverbal challenge. Josiah wouldn’t know what spurred Micah’s defiance, but he clearly found it engaging.

“Ezra.”

Calder approached him from the side, effectively garnering Micah’s attention.

A certain stillness engulfed the throne room, no illusion of privacy whatsoever. Micah imagined most of his interactions with his father, from this point forward, would be mostly public. The Royal Council was now a part of their family, after all.

“It appears as if you have been withholding some remarkable information from me.” Calder stopped near the closest council table, his attention immediately falling on Kai, who kneeled low in reverence. “Mr. Edlen.”

“I’d like him to stay,” Micah intervened before Calder could order Kai’s evacuation.

At Micah’s directive, Calder inclined his head, observing him thoughtfully.

He had the authority to put Micah in his place by denying him. With so many figures of authority observing their interaction, Calder should have done just that.

Instead, he smiled thinly and spun it expertly in his favor.

“You show an aptitude for choosing the right allies. The Edlen family has been close supporters of the royal bloodline for generations. You may rise, Mr. Edlen.” He angled his body toward the councilmembers but kept his eyes on Kai. “Considering the circumstances, it is a pleasant surprise your partnership formed so naturally.”

Micah believed ‘considering the circumstances’ meant Calder was more than aware of Kai’s separation amongst the nobles and even his family. He’d probably heard the slander against Kai. He’d probably formed his own opinions as well.  

“Kai and I have a common adversary,” Micah informed stiffly, his eyes settling just over Calder’s shoulder and toward the uptight members of court.

“Do not assume your friends from foes until faced with a drawn sword,” Calder advised serenely, easily recognizing Micah’s comment as an attack on the nobles at his back. “Perceptions are oftentimes misleading.”

“Perceptions backed by actions are declarations of drawn swords,” Micah rebutted, standing firm. His eyes found the two Edlen men, huddled together. “I do not take kindly to those who issue a challenge like that.”

He spoke specifically on Kai’s treatment.

“And yet, being a ruler of a kingdom often requires forgiveness, does it not?”

Micah recognized the question as a rhetorical one, not contingent upon a reply.

Calder, having moved toward the corpses, stopped his advance in order to glance at the raised dais. “After all, I readily forgive you and your uncle for keeping your abilities a secret. It was a pleasant revelation to hear this morning amidst all the destruction and chaos that transpired across the capital.”

Micah did not look at Josiah, though he felt the man’s endless scrutiny.

“An ice Elemental,” Calder breathed.

The attention around the throne room refocused on him with razor sharp intensity. From the guards across the room to the councilmembers, Micah found himself the object of concentrated examination.

Calder clearly had a flare for the dramatics. Proclaiming relation to Micah smartened and preened his already primp plumage. His son was an ice Elemental. He was unafraid to declare it aloud to everyone.

That was a relatively new occurrence for Micah.

Parental pride.

Nonetheless, in this instance, it wasn’t a simple case of a parent expressing their pride over a child.

There was a possessiveness to his tone, to his gaze. Micah’s spine stiffened as he speculated the consequences of kindling Calder’s interest. While Calder conceived Micah for purposes of furthering his reach for dominance across the capital, this revelation outweighed the advantage of a simple biracial game piece.

“It is curious,” a new voice announced. “Would other biracial children of powerful Elementals exhibit the same gifts? Or is the prince a singular case?”

Looking at the Igni woman who had asked the question, Micah compared her to Ember’s mirror image. She was similar to his mother in many ways, though the several fine lines around her orange eyes set her apart indefinitely.

“It is a concentrated case, I am certain,” Josiah informed idly. “There are several cases of children born to both water and fire Elementals after the war. So far, there has been no talk of conjuring ice as an Element.”

“What of immunity to water and fire Elementals?”

Josiah’s response did not come for quite some time. “That I do not know. It’s possible.”

Micah kept his attention diverted from the Igni king, choosing instead to watch his father across the room. The smugness across Calder’s face seemed to dim as he gazed down at the mutilated corpses.

“Be that as it may, it is very likely the attack was centralized on assassinating you today.” Calder looked up at Micah. “While we experienced casualties in the capital and several demolished structures, the perpetrators flocked to you.”

Kai shifted next to him, clearly upset that Micah kept the specifics of today’s battle to himself in the carriage. Glancing at the boy, Micah applauded Kai’s indifference.

The nobles didn’t need to glean any sort of fraction in their partnership.

“You have retrieved the bodies,” Micah stated bluntly. “Why?”

“Identification.”

As if Calder’s answer was a suggestion to reconvene, the standing councilmembers gradually approached the tables and took their seats. One by one, they looked at Micah, giving the impression he was on trial.

Much to Micah’s amusement, the Unda councilmembers sat on the right side of the aisle, leaving the Igni members to the left.

Always segregation.

Micah advanced further down the aisle, intentionally placing himself between the two separate bodies of government. Introductions were in order, however, Calder appeared to have no inclination to introduce him to the councilmembers today.

Micah caught Sachiel’s searching eyes.

“Who do you believe was behind the attack today, Your Highness?” Sachiel inquired. 

Micah did not hesitate. “I imagine you’ve already come to the conclusion.”

Sachiel smirked. “If you don’t mind, we’d like to hear your account. You dealt with them personally. Aedus and I were mere afterthoughts.”

Were they testing him?

Micah had a very good assumption of what attacked him today. His assumption relied heavily on his ability to see souls, however, leading to the impossibility of the councilmembers knowing the truth.

“The public says the gods were upset,” Calder said, ensnaring Micah’s complete attention. Stopping next to Sachiel, he clasped his hands behind his back. “It certainly seemed that way. The elements were volatile, especially the rain and the wind.”

Seeing souls aside, Micah supposed a competent individual could draw steady conclusions. Calder merely pointed out the obvious, though they couldn’t possibly believe the gods were behind the attack.

“Fire and earth were present as well,” he explained.

“Only through agents. Sachiel tells me a fire Elemental went up in his own flames. Agni was watching over you.”

Micah bristled and curled his hands into fists. “You’re insinuating Varuna and Vayu—the Air God—were responsible for today’s attack?” He gazed across the throne room at the deadpanned expressions. “I imagine Varuna is far too busy with his own life complications to worry about mortal affairs.”

“The legend of Varuna indicates he is rather… fickle,” Josiah said slyly.

Micah kept his attention on the councilmembers as he replied to Josiah. A childish tactic, but something he needed to do in order to establish stability. “Even so, I haven’t done anything to warrant the ire of the gods.”

“Is that so?”

He stilled as the distorted question reverberated across the throne room. His eyes roved across the members of council, recognizing their lack of reaction. They hadn’t heard it.

And why should they have?

The voice was Micah’s personal ghost.

The hairs on his neck prickled unpleasantly as raspy laughter echoed brokenly in his ears. Slowly, Micah turned his head, finding the murky figure in the corner of the room. Similar to the first time he’d summoned the entity, its form flickered disjointedly, as if stuck between realms and time.

Micah remembered it gaining form after consuming his blood, but none of that renowned strength seemed to present itself in front of him now.

The entity was back to where he was before.

“Summoning me, in itself, would unsettle the gods.” The entity blinked out of existence before appearing directly beside Micah.

Familiar trepidation sunk heavily into Micah’s limbs, weighing him down with unrestrained terror. He stared straight ahead, forcing himself not to outwardly react to the entity’s unnerving proximity.

“I require substance,” it hissed into his ear.

Time suddenly stopped—similar to what had transpired after the attack with the white-haired woman—only, it was much smaller in scale and the colors did not bleed from the world.

“You will not find your substance here.”

Upon Josiah’s harsh words, the entity took a startled step back. The atmosphere grew heavy, sluggish, and Micah just barely caught the entity facing Josiah with surprise. A hiss of frustration and disbelief sounded from the shadowy figure before it abruptly fled the throne room.

And then time resumed normally.

Micah blinked rapidly.

“Ezra?”

“From an uninformed perspective, it would be easy to blame it on the gods.” Micah found his voice and looked at his father. “However, I believe it was a group of radicals. There were Elementals from each kingdom rebelling against either monarchy or something more specific.”

Upon his response, the council’s questioning stares abruptly left their expressions.

Obviously, he had recovered well enough.

“Good answer,” Calder praised.

Josiah’s observation felt like sharp and unrelenting pinpricks on his skin. There was an unusual friction suspended in the air, enticing Micah to look the man’s way.

The man wanted Micah to give him attention, to give him recognition for chasing away the entity, but Micah refused. Never before had Micah wanted to leave the man’s presence as much as he did at that very moment.

He was uncomfortable and ignorant to the depth of the situation. Josiah’s ability to not only see the entity, but also chase it away simply reinforced Micah’s assumptions.

Moreover, it increased his anxiety by tenfold.

“Have you identified the water Elementals from the attack?” Micah forced himself back into the conversation, focusing only on the council, only on his father.

“Or what was left of them?” Sachiel countered with amusement.

“We have,” Calder informed. “They are known nobles who went missing several years ago.” The king moved closer to Micah. “We had reason to suspect they had left the capital to join the Noir Users. Today only confirmed it.”

Noir Users.

Micah hadn’t anticipated the court concluding the Magi were responsible for the attack today. Grudgingly, he realized the practicality of the conclusion. When things did not seem rational or understandable, ordinary men and women blamed magic.

Of course, their conclusion may be partially accurate. The hosts may have been Noir Users.

“Are you aware of their reach?” Micah asked Calder. “How large are their numbers?”

Josiah may have destroyed the majority of their numbers a few years after Micah was born, but that was ages ago. Undoubtedly, their numbers have increased, as has their thirst for vengeance. Last term with Keegan only proved as much.

“Your uncle eliminated their numbers near extinction over fifteen years ago,” Calder said, unknowingly astounding Micah with his knowledge on the subject. “We assumed the problem was taken care of. Just recently, as you recall, they made a reappearance.”

Is that what Josiah and Calder considered it?

Population control? Removing the problem before it took shape? 

Did they ignore the fact that Josiah committed mass genocide on groups of men and women without cause? From the books Micah read, the Noir Users were traveling nomads. Yes, their powers were dark as were the practitioners.

However, from Micah’s understanding, they didn’t go out of their way to wreak havoc across the kingdoms. They kept to themselves mostly.

Twenty years ago, their alleged crimes were no greater than ordinary Elementals who did not practice Noir Magic. Only, the public exaggerated the crimes the Magi had committed, fearing abilities they could not comprehend.

As much as Micah hated to admit, the Noir Users were unfairly treated. However many remaining there may be, the public created the Noir Users of today. Angry. Vengeful.

“They targeted you and your uncle for what had happened to their people several years ago,” Calder continued. “As a result, your friend passed away—”

“Keegan passed away unnecessarily, yes,” Micah interrupted. 

Your friend.

How very detached and impersonal.

Calder paused at the correction, most likely deliberating if he should address Micah’s tone or overlook it. “You are being targeted,” he said in a way of changing the subject entirely. “As a result, there will be tighter laws across the capital.”

“Tighter laws in which way?”

“Books on Noir Magic will be destroyed. Anyone in possession will face severe consequences. Those who have any sort of connection to Noir Users will be under review.”

Society already looked down on Noir Magic, already feared it and whispered about it with unrestrained dislike. One did not practice Noir Magic anywhere near the public, especially in the Concordia capital. It was incriminating to possess such items, such ties. Concordia prohibited such activity.

Yet there were no legal repercussions for someone accusing others of Noir Magic. For the capital to place those accused ‘under review’ would be a complete mess.

“And what, exactly, will be done to prevent ill intentions?” Micah inquired sharply.

Calder cocked his head “Excuse me?”

“I don’t like Kai,” Micah said abruptly, looking at his comrade who merely quirked a brow in turn. “I hear about these new laws being put into place with severe consequences. Seeing it as an opportunity to get rid of him, I plant books in his possession and proclaim him a Noir User.”

Murmuring spread across the councilmembers as Micah faced his father.

“Tell me what safeguards will be used to prevent situations like these,” he demanded to his father. “Tell me what you will do to prevent unfair judgement.”

Cordelia Abital caught his eyes. She was an image of smugness as she nodded her approval. Next to her, the Unda men did not appear so impressed.

“He is a ruler after all,” an elder Igni man proclaimed.

Next to him, the Igni woman smiled thinly, assessing Micah with a certain reminiscence. “He is much like his grandfather.”

“What would you suggest then?” an Unda man inquired challengingly.

Micah looked at Calder. His father merely nodded once, appearing unruffled at Micah’s defiance. On the contrary, there was a new light in his eyes.

Something bordering on approval and eagerness.

“I wouldn’t suggest any new edicts.” Micah looked at the man who’d demanded an answer. “But I would certainly acknowledge their participation in the attack today. Suspicion and disapproval of the Noir Users is already high, and people adapt well to proclaimed threats. They will practice due diligence in order to protect their homes and their family. If they catch any wind of Magi activity, they will report it.” He then looked at Calder. “It eliminates the messy applications of regulations.”

The council remained silent as their attention turned to the king, awaiting his response.

Micah would be disappointed if Calder were the individual who came up with the idea of harsher punishments for Noir participation. He hoped one of the Unda councilmembers brainstormed the silly solution.

“We will talk amongst ourselves with the new proposition,” Calder responded diplomatically as he walked up the dais to his throne. “In the meantime, rebuilding the capital is our main priority.”

Micah rocked to the heels of his boots, hoping to make a quick exit.

“If that is all, Your Majesty?” he inquired, veiling his anticipation for the end.

Calder laughed lightly as he sat down. “No, that is not all.”

Stilling, Micah felt the sense of unease nip at the back of his neck.

Calder leaned forward on his throne, cupping his hands together and observing Micah closely. “I am pleased you recognize the Noir Users are targeting you and are a significant threat. I shouldn’t have to explain, then, my reasons for prohibiting you from returning to the academy.”

Micah stared stupidly, unable to form a coherent thought.

“You are at the top of your class,” Calder continued, easily reading Micah’s open surprise. “Councilman Sachiel has trained you well with the staff and sword. You cannot learn anything further at the academy that you cannot learn here at the palace with private tutors.”

“I—”

Calder raised a hand, cutting Micah off. “This is not up for negotiation, Ezra. I agreed to give you time, but I require you here, under the protection of your uncle and myself.”

Micah took a deep, steadying breath. He didn’t dare look at the figure sitting smugly to Calder’s right. The same figure who boasted—just days ago—that Micah would soon be locked in Calder’s cage with him.

“I’m commanding you as your king, not as your father.”

Micah could very well argue and explain the reasons why Calder’s request was unfounded. Only, he was intentionally aware of all the eyes on him, watching his reaction, far too prepared to judge him quickly.

So he reigned in his immature impulses, at least for now, and inclined his head. His entire body was as stiff as a board.

“I would like to at least return to the academy and speak with my team. If that is permitted, Your Majesty?” He did not hide his derision.

Calder chuckled, as if enjoying this immensely. “Of course, I will permit it, my son,” he said, matching Micah’s tone perfectly.

“I will collect you from the academy this evening,” Josiah informed.

Micah bowed low at the waist before turning his heel and retreating from the throne room as hastily as possible. He could feel Josiah’s displeasure lick at the back of his heels like merciless flames of irritability.

The man did not like to be ignored.

Micah had never anticipated time would run out this quickly. He had only a few hours to act and he needed to be as prepared as possible.

Unfortunately, it came at a poor time. Kai would not understand his need to seek a stranger in the last few hours he had left with his team. However, it was vital Micah learn as much as he could before facing Josiah tonight.

* * * *

Oddly enough, Kai didn’t even blink when Micah had insisted that they see the Noir User expert. In fact, Kai hadn’t shown much emotion since they departed from the throne room.

The boy had been silent, stewing.

Micah imagined he’d eventually figure out the cause of the other man’s anger. Either Kai was upset that Micah hadn’t explained the details of the battle, or he was upset about the revelation that Micah would no longer attend the academy.

Whatever it was, Micah knew to give the other man distance. Kai typically preferred to sort things out himself before addressing it.

“Kai Edlen indicated you wanted to talk about daemons.”

Clearing the top step of the long staircase, Micah entered the stale, malodorous attic and approached the man seated behind a desk.

Down below, a fancy tailor shop sprawled across the main level. Kai waited down there, lingering near the display window and in sight of the two guards who’d accompanied them to the academy.

Kai had proclaimed to the guards that he had needed to make a stop at the tailors before returning to the academy.

Catching on to the boy’s intentions, Micah also requested privacy. Last time he had looked, the guards stood outside, peering into the tailor shop with looks of intense boredom and indifference. Meanwhile, the shopkeeper had ushered Micah up a set of steep stairs, reassuring him the scholar of history dwelled in the attic.

And that he did.

Micah did not know where the desk ended and the man began.

The Noir User guru was tremendously heavy-set, as wide as the desk and as deep as the nook positioned behind him. There was only one window in the attic, and flimsy drapes hung in front of the strong sunlight, dimming their surroundings in an unattractive shade of green.

Dust suspended in the air, appearing like small jewels as they caught the vague rays of sunlight through the drapes. Books crammed in every corner of the attic, and bookshelves, buckled and broken with unbearable weight, struggled to remain standing against the walls.

“Daemons,” Micah repeated, turning his attention back on the man. “Kai indicated I wanted to talk about daemons?”

Through his haze of single-minded focus, a flame of amusement licked at him. Kai indicated he knew the reason for Micah’s little adventure between terms. Clearly, he’d seen Micah’s books and the topic that had interested him.

Micah found himself amused over Kai’s resourcefulness.

Even if that resourcefulness was snooping.

“Yes,” the man repeated slowly, as if Micah were thick, “…daemons.”

Washed-out blue, beady eyes stared at him from behind the desk. Besides a quick once-over, the man did not appear too impressed by Micah. Instead, he turned back to the biscuit on his plate and proceeded to lick his fingers clean.

The scent of stale body odor and food stunk the attic. Micah grimaced at the heavy air, underwhelmed. Did he trust this man to hold his answers? Micah suddenly came down from his anticipation and dwelled in skepticism.

Perhaps he wouldn’t find his answers today. Perhaps he would have to face Josiah wholly and purely ignorant.

Unprepared. Unarmed.

“Initially, I did have questions about daemons. I still do, actually, but it’s not so pressing anymore,” Micah continued despite his reservations. He looked uncertainly down at his boots. “I want to know about…” He took a deep breath and gathered his wits. “Gods.”

Gods.

Gods!

There, he’d said it aloud. Despite his entire life living in disbelief over the prospect of gods, he finally acknowledged their existence. Saying it aloud did nothing to soothe his agitation. If anything, it made it worse. They weren’t really real, were they?

He was wrong. He had to be.

The man behind the desk refocused on Micah. “What about gods?”

“The likelihood of a god walking amongst us.”

Watery eyes glazed over for a moment before squinting. “Now we’re talking, boy!” Standing, the man pried the chair from his hips and struggled to shuffle around his desk. “I don’t get many inquiries about gods. Interest? Yes. But not inquiries.”

Kai mentioned the guru’s name was Beck. The man hadn’t introduced himself, and Micah hadn’t felt the need to introduce himself either.

Beck suited the man just fine, Micah deduced as he watched the scholar shuffle his way over to a nearby bookcase. Somehow, he’d managed to get there without tripping over the sheer mass of books in his way.

“Gods walking amongst us are rarely topics of discussion, simply because their induction into our world is far less likely than a daemon. Far less feared. Daemons are somewhat of a horror story, told to scare enemies and used as threats. Little do most know that a god cloaking himself in mortal skin should be feared far more than any daemon possession,” Beck said as he surveyed the bookcase. “Fortunately, we mortals are rarely engaging enough to hold a god’s attention for too long.”

Micah’s lashes lowered with deliberation. “You say that as if we are insignificant.”

He’d known that.

Identified it himself this morning, even.

But…

“Oh, we are. To gods at least.” Beck paused. “To daemons, it is from my understanding that we are a source of energy.”

“The texts proclaimed daemons can consume human souls,” Micah surmised. “Do gods consume our souls?”

“They have the ability, but they don’t crave our souls for nourishment.”

The man bent down as low as he could manage, his trousers straining painfully against his backside.

“Gods think of mortals as mere livestock. Animals. Pests. We are insignificant to them.” Beck focused on a very large tome on the bottom shelf. “It’s understandable, really. We are mortal and our lifespans are short. Compared to gods—both the minor and major gods—we are powerless and easily disposable.”

Micah narrowed his eyes. “Major gods?”

Beck glanced at Micah from over his shoulder. His beady eyes squinted. “Major gods. Gods like The Big Four. Records indicate anything and everything has a god attached to it, whether it be an emotion, a catastrophe, whatever the case may be. It is not proven, so I can only speculate given the information I have.” 

The God of War, Micah considered.

The Goddess of Envy? Lust? Misfortune? 

He supposed there were several other gods and goddesses he hadn’t even considered. He thought briefly of the attack this morning. There had been at least a dozen gods or goddesses present.

“I’m assuming The Big Four are Varuna, Agni, Vayu, and Prithvi.”

“Your assumptions prove correct. Why are they called The Big Four, you may ask? Because they are ancient, the most powerful, and they are the only gods who receive worship and proper recognition.”

Beck turned back around and slowly tugged the book from the bottom shelf. In doing so, several other books tumbled to the floor in its absence.

The scholar paid the discarded books no heed as he shuffled back over to his desk. Settling in his chair as if it were a throne, he pressed a hand against the cover of the book, short of breath.

“Gods are created with all sorts of power levels. However, if they receive further worship and sacrifices by us unassuming mortals, they tend to grow more powerful.”

Micah contemplated the information, his mind racing. “There are kingdoms centralized around The Big Four.”

“Rightfully so!” Beck accentuated with a snort. “They’ve blessed mortals with fractions of their powers. The Elementals. It is only fair we pray to them and offer sacrifices in their name. Each prayer, however, only makes them that much stronger.”

He raised his arms and waved them around.

“Like daemons who rely on human souls to give them energy, gods feed off the pleas and the cries of dedicated followers.” Beck smiled, showing crooked and stained teeth. “They are rather greedy creatures, in all actuality.”

“And what if a kingdom is wiped out from existence?” At Micah’s inquiry, the man’s eyebrows furrowed with misperception. “Like the Igni Empire,” Micah stressed. “Just say those who worship Agni are no longer in existence. Does that mean the Fire God becomes the weakest of The Four?”

His pulse pounded at each mention of Agni.

Fortunately, it wasn’t beating loud enough for the other man to hear.

“It is difficult to say. I don’t believe any god would allow it to get to that point. Gods are rather vain, after all. Though they may turn their cheek to our desperate pleas, they would take quick action if they believed their people faced extinction. The Igni Empire may have lost the war, but they are still thriving, still worshiping Agni.”

Micah rocked to the heels of his boots and found the pieces slowly coming together. “By taking quick action, you mean coming to our world.”

“Walking amongst us? Yes.” He tapped the book twice. “Most of the time, they do not shy away from admitting their presence—their identity—to mortals. Inside this book are a few recorded sightings in our world. Now, keep in mind most of these may not be accurate, but rather fables of uneducated and misguided fools.”

Micah’s attention dropped to the thick book, marveling at the sheer size. Disbelief made him speechless for just a moment.

“Why don’t more people know about this?”

“Most have a general sense that gods are, in fact, real,” Beck replied, squinting at Micah oddly. “It’s why our faith is so strong. Unless, of course, you are one of the skeptics.”

Micah blinked at the man and deadpanned.

When he was incredibly young, he vaguely remembered Ember explaining the different rituals performed in Agni’s name. While he knew some passages of the scriptures, he was not too familiar with the fables. It had never seemed a pressing thing to learn. They were fables, after all. Mere stories, faith suspended on a fragile thread of chance.

Micah clasped his hands behind his back and asked the question that burned the back of his tongue.

“How often does Agni come to our world?”

A pause.

“Agni!” The man laughed excessively.

He opened the book and shuffled all the way towards the back, leaving only a few pages remaining.

“Agni doesn’t appear to us often. Those who worship Agni know of his fierce temper and his unyielding demand for obedience. His people do not stray often, though his presence would be disconcerting, to say the least.”

“Oh?” Micah ignored the goosebumps across his arms. “Why disconcerting?”

“Agni typically brings destruction when he walks amongst us. The last known entry was centuries ago. He brought a mass plague to his people simply because he believed they were growing too power hungry and disobedient.”

Micah’s eyebrow twitched.

It sounded like someone he knew, yes.

Beck nodded, as if reading Micah’s expression. “I hesitate to use the term immature when describing gods, especially considering how old they are, but judging from the stories, they are incredibly juvenile. Very childish, as if stunted emotionally.” Pausing, he bowed his head. “Not to speak ill of you, Varuna.”

Micah observed the scholar as he waved a hand in the air, lost in his own private prayer as he asked for forgiveness from the Water God. 

Something odd twisted inside Micah as it all came crashing down. Humans really were powerless. In the eyes of gods, they were nothing. Yet despite the gods thinking so little of mortals, mortals continued to worship, to fall to their knees before creatures who wouldn’t think twice sparing their lives.

It was out of fear, Micah realized.

If the book on Beck’s desk was a topic amongst worshipers, even if only vague recollections, they would know about the catastrophes gods brought upon them. The suffering, the deaths, the destruction.

Yet they continued to feed the gods power of prayer, of rituals. If only for a small chance the god they passionately worshipped rewarded their loyalty.

And the gods continued to take and take.

Micah viewed the whole debacle with a sense of extreme bitterness. Bitterness against the gods, but also to the mortals whose power lust blinded them and whose fear submitted them. They were malleable and so easily shepherded.

Despite his view, he felt a strange affliction to protect the foolish people.

“And what of Varuna?” Micah inquired curiously. “Does the Water God make appearances?”

His first concern was with Agni.

His second…

“Far more frequent than our Fire God, who has been absent for quite some time.” Beck raised his head and busied himself by sectioning off a large number of pages. “He creates destruction just as well, but he makes sure his good deeds are also known. While Agni’s records indicate annihilation, he also does good deeds. He just doesn’t publicize it like Varuna.”

“What makes them walk amongst us? Can’t they do most things from their own realm? I would imagine they would feel bound with us.”

He remembered the rain, the wind.

He was under the impression gods could wreak havoc, even in their own realm. 

“I am uncertain why they choose to become a part of our realm,” Beck admitted. “But yes, their powers are extensively limited when they are in mortal skin. However, their influence is also dulled when they try to control things from their realm. It lacks finesse.”

Micah released his hands from his back, his fingers brushing against the pendant in his pocket. “You’ve mentioned mortal skin before. Is that how they walk amongst us? Possession?”

“Yes, much like daemons. Only, gods require permission from their host.”

Stilling, Micah mulled over the revelation.

Permission?

“Unless, of course, they don’t mind a weakened vessel. They could possess without permission, but their presence is too overpowering. Oftentimes, unwilling hosts crumble from constantly fighting off the invasion.”

“Crumble.”

Beck smiled gleefully. “Literally.”

Flipping to another page, Beck rotated the book around.

As Micah approached, his eyes instantly fell upon a charcoal image of man bleeding from all his orifices. Eyes protruded unnaturally and fingers detached from groping, desperate hands.  

“I thought you said they crumbled.” Micah pointed to another image further down on the page. “It looks more like an explosion.”

“That would be if a mortal looked at a god in his true form.” Beck gave another sharp-toothed smile. “Gods can take on many forms, but if they choose to reveal their true selves, mortals cannot process the power before them. Your head explodes, or, if you are an Elemental, your eyes simply implode. There have actually been some survivors.”

Micah’s fingers paused over the illustration of a headless man, the gore around him indication his head had exploded.

In the corner of the page was an intricate sketch of a man with gaping holes for eyes. Micah thought back to the migraines he’d experienced in Josiah’s presence.

They’d been excruciating.

“Gods have control over the amount of power they reveal to mortals, do they not?” Micah asked. “If they possessed a human, their vessel could still portray some of the god’s real power, correct?”

“I imagine they can do many things and we just don’t know the extent of it.” Beck shrugged. “I suppose they can undoubtedly control the level of power they channel towards a mortal.”

So why had Josiah subjected Micah to slivers of his aura?

If a god possessed Josiah—

No.

If Agni possessed Josiah…

Micah removed his hand from the pages, feeling his vision swim. Feeling ill. The signs had been there. Josiah—Agni—had laid them all in front of Micah like breadcrumbs. Taunting, luring. Only, Micah came to the wrong conclusion and labeled him a daemon.

He could only imagine how amused Josiah had been then, listening to Micah accuse him like a hot-tempered child with incorrect assumptions.

Josiah knew Micah was skeptical over gods. He knew it would take Micah a long while to come to the true conclusion. After all, Micah would readily believe the existence of daemons over the divine entities of above.

“Rituals can protect a human from a god’s unveiled presence, can’t they?”

“Gods and daemons are interchangeable at times,” Beck whispered as if he were insulting Varuna directly by comparing him to a daemon. “When there is a ritual for one, there is most likely a ritual for the other. Only, different materials and different intentions.”

“Gold?” The pendant weighed a ton against his thigh.

“Gold for gods, yes. The silver metals for daemons.”

Protection against Agni hand delivered by Agni.

Settled nicely on top of his pillow.

It was too surreal. Micah could not grasp it and analyze it properly enough to make it real. Aside from his uncertainty, fear took prevalence. For what purpose would a god as powerful as Agni plant himself next to Micah and toy with him? For this long?

No.

Perhaps he was wrong again. There was only one way to find out, wasn’t there?

Micah looked up at Beck and smiled humorlessly.

“Tell me about exorcism.” He took a deep, steadying breath. “How do you exorcise a god from a willing host?”