When Kilvic took his seat, Moss and Stratin made failed attempts at concealing their emotions towards the debacle. But Ariadne made no such attempt, the compassion was written all over her face when she turned to him.“I’m so sorry,” she said, and meant it.The apology brought him confusion.“Why?” he asked her, curious. There were only a few reasons a person would feel the need to apologize in such a manner, and by the life of him he had no idea what her crime could’ve been. “What have you done?” he added.Ariadne drew a blank, her confusion usurping her compassion.“Aren’t you…” She trailed off when she saw the other boys shaking their heads. “Am I missing something?”“Look at him,” Stratin told her.“Ok,” she complied, skeptical. After a while, she turned back to him, confused. “What am I looking for?”&ld

There are many ways to fight like a man, but there is no one way to fight like a man. Since the beginning of things, men have fought and been fought, anyone could easily say mankind has lived only to perfect the art. So when people asked a person to fight like a man, Kilvic was always confused at the request.To fight like a man, apparently, was to fight with honor and grace and class and other things of the sort. The truth? It was all hubris. Such notions and dispositions were found in duels. In a fight, they were a quick way to lose; it was not their place. Thus, he could agree that these notions and ideals were what it meant to duel like a man. Regardless, to fight like a man means to do anything to win, which meant a man should be willing to claw and scratch and bite. Hitting below the belt wasn’t left out, and the occasional sand toss and spitting was as fair as anything else could be. Some would say these acts were unsavory and considered cheating, but that was wh

It was a short walk to the platform that held the massive harp, and Kilvic took his time covering it. Ariadne had succeeded in turning him from Moss’ idea the moment she’d asked him of its benefit. At that moment, he’d remembered something he’d always wanted to try since before leaving mount Trenon, and here was a splendid opportunity as any.In Zeldric the art of performance was underappreciated. In truth, it was also underappreciated in a few other kingdoms. But it was worse here. Performances the likes of singing and the playing of instruments was at the heart of the kingdom of Almada’s belief however, where it was said to have originated from when the kingdom’s troubadours had migrated from its borders in search of newer audience who would marvel at their art.As the saying goes: to be an Almadan is to be an artist.Kilvic climbed the wooden steps to the platform, unnoticed by anyone but a few serving girls, the bartender,

The air was cool with the teasing whisper of a promising winter when Kilvic and his companions stepped out of the tavern. The sun was still high in the sky, however, it was no confusion that they had lost some time. Kilvic tightened his hold on the bottle in his hand and turned down the tavern steps onto the sidewalk, and his friends followed.“I didn’t know you knew how to play the harp,” Moss said as they walked down to the nearest junction.Kilvic didn’t take his eyes of the road. “I know.”“Where did you learn?” Tudi asked.“Back home.”“It was a beautiful piece,” she said. “What’s the name?”“Clara,” Ariadne answered.Somehow Tudi had ended up beside Kilvic and Ariadne walked on the other side of the girl. Until now, she’d been busy ticking of a mental list on her fingers and frowning.“Just Clara?” Tudi

Kilvic tapped Ariadne’s cheek, drawing her attention to him, and not just whatever she didn’t like about him. “I need your help Ariadne.” “Go fuck yourself,” she spat. “You never want anyone’s help, let alone my own.” He ignored her rage. “Well I need it now.” “Why should I help you?” “Because we’ll all die if you don’t,” he told her, soaking the words in sorrow and remorse. He could’ve gone over to Moss or Stratin, shaking them from the strong hold of the spell would be easier than shaking Ariadne; he knew them better. But they didn’t possess the skill she did, and he knew nothing about Tudi to help. He looked at Ariadne, eyes pleading. “Please, help me.” She ceased her struggling and looked at him with a frustrated sigh, but he could see she was now willing. “What do you want, mister Rudric?” He ignored the mockery in her voice. “A concordance spell.” “What for?” She looked at him, suspicious. “I won’t help you make Tudi pay