Morwin coughed and sputtered, water splattering his shirt. He slowly opened his eyes, taking in the room before him. He looked down at his shirt. A plain white tunic that’s dry , save for that one part where water landed on it. He looked to his side. A candle rested on top of a maple dresser, illuminating the room.

  His head pounded and throbbed. He instinctively reached out for his gems, wanting to grace amethyst. Only to find it wasn’t there.

  Where was he? He shot up and the painful feeling returned. He let out a groan before falling back to bed.

  Morwin struggled to remember what had happened. He remembered… taking the bottle from the old man, seeing Galvin before him speaking to him, getting angry, then flying off into the ocean. That was about all he could really recall.

  “You’re finally awake,” a voice sounded on the other side of the door. The old man stepped through, holding a cup of some kind of steaming liquid. He set the cup down on the dresser by Morwin.

  “My head,” he groaned, sitting up. “Mind telling me what happened?”

  “You jumped into the ocean like an idiot,” the old man said. “I saw that boy there talking to you. I’m sorry that’s happened to you, but try to not die next time.”

  “I’m sorry,” Morwin muttered. “Just the heat of the moment.” He looked down at his hands, seeing the cuts there. He remembered falling out of the sky when the last of his emerald was drained and descending into the depths. He thought he was done for then.

  “How was I saved?”

  The old man gave a hearty laugh. “I jumped after you, of course! I wasn’t going to let a youngin like you die on me!”

  “How did you find me? I must have been miles away from shore.”

  The man held up a gleaming emerald. “When you’ve been Gemming for as long as I have, you learn some tricks. I can detect gems from very far away.”

  Morwin reached for the gem, feeling its essence swirling around, its power contained within the casing of its crystal. He wanted to reach out and Absorb some, but when he tried, the feeling of being submerged and the taste of salt struck him. He stopped reaching out immediately, pulling his mind back.

  “Help me up,” Morwin pleaded, moving to stand. As he stood, however, pain rocked his world and the room spun underneath him.

  The old man shot to his feet to help Morwin, holding him and steadying him. “You might want to rest up, son,” the old man said. “Just let yourself heal naturally.”

  “Give me an amethyst and I’ll be fine,” Morwin said.

  The old man shook his head. “No can do. The Aylin Islands may have items that look like gemstones, but they’re all fake if you couldn’t tell. Amethysts aren’t within the collection of gemstones you brought with you. I’m afraid there isn’t expedited healing for you.”

  Morwin sat back down, feeling a sharp stab in his ribs. He moved his arm to clutch it.

  “Well, there isn’t expedited healing through gemstones,” the old man said, thumbing the cup he’d set down.

  Morwin took a whiff and felt bile rising in the back of his throat. “No way I’m drinking that,” he said.

  “Either you drink that for three days and be fine or you’ll lay in bed for the next month or so. Your choice.”

  “Fine,” he muttered, hesitantly picking up the cup.

  Galvin had betrayed him. Sent him off somewhere mysterious and expected him to live there for the rest of his life.

  Like hell he was. He held onto that thought as he downed the distasteful black liquid. The entirety of his mind focused on Galvin’s final message to take his mind off the taste.

  Have a good life. Those words echoed all throughout him. One thing was sure, he needed to get out of there as quickly as possible.

  “In three days,” Morwin said. “You’re going to take me to the dock, and secure me a ship. And the ship will take me back to Agnius, where I will join my brother in the fight against a tyrant.”

  The old man shook his head. “No can do. You saw his message. You know his wishes.”

  “Please,” Morwin begged.

  “You know… there’s only one ship that’s brave enough to make trading with Agnius. And that’s captain Mikael’s crew. No other merchant even dares set sail for that cursed land. The only way back, I’m afraid, is through Mikael.”

  “But I saw boats back in Jovin City!” Morwin protested.

  The old man frowned. “Those aren’t boats trading with another nations. Those were boats trading within itself, using the river as means to travel through the country faster.”

  “You talk like you know what Agnius is like,” Morwin said.

  “I did live there, once upon a time. But that was a long time ago, so don’t ask me anything else. I try to forget I was ever a citizen there.”

  The old man stood up. “Point is, you’re here now. I am going to take you under my care, whether you like it or not, and we’re going to be the best of friends.”

  “I don’t even know your name.”

  “Aubriel,” the old man said. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  Galvin wandered aimlessly, every inch of his body either covered with cuts or bruises. The king did a wonder on him, but the immortal man was experienced enough to know the human limit. He had left Galvin barely alive and given him the tiniest of amethysts to heal himself up. The cut of gemstone he was given had barely been big enough to heal more than a cut each day.

  In the blink of an eye, a week had passed since the encounter. A week of wandering aimlessly, hopelessly, healing himself just the tiniest amount. He stopped by towns, but no one seemed to recognize him. Some even helped him with whatever he needed, given the shape he arrived in.

  Due to the kindness of strangers, he was made better off. That is, until he healed enough to be recognized as Galvin, the rebel leader within the nation. They didn’t help him after that.

  It was after the incident that they didn’t help him not out of disgust, but out of fear. Word of the battle had, by that point, reached the furthest corners of Agnius, and every man, woman, child, has heard of the defeat of Galvin.

  He wandered around throughout the towns and villages, and it was his sorry state that made the townspeople shake their heads, muttering the hopelessness of the rebellion. It was seeing him beaten up that made them think twice about rising against the king. Galvin himself didn’t have to say a single word for them to see the power the king held.

  He made his way across Agnius in two weeks, which was a bit longer than he should have, and reached Jovin City.

  The sight before him was as he expected. Ruin and ashes lay before him, the destructive power of De’Shai’s army evident from the rubble.

  Galvin wondered through town. There were people heaving rubble, still searching for survivors of the battle two weeks later. A crushing defeat, as Galvin had suspected.

  Lord Seldam. Surely he still had to be alive, right? The people who were brave enough to join Justicar. There had to be some left. He held on to the hope, but that hope, too, was crushed as he meandered through the city.

  As he walked, people turned heads and stared at him, anger and disgust and fear hidden in the depths of their gazes. A woman held onto a pendant around her neck, a mother, Galvin could tell. Several children stood around the rubble, lifting and carrying rocks around. They turned as he strode past.

  One of them stuck their tongue out. They were still searching for their father underneath all this destruction.

  Murmurs and whispers spread through town. Galvin didn’t need to enhance his senses to know they were talking about him. People stopped working and peered on.

  No matter how many people he saw, the same look of betrayal was written plainly on their faces. And Galvin deserved every bit of it. He had used these people as bait, all for naught too. And what came of it? Their homes destroyed and the people they love killed.

  What would happen if he lead them into battle as a proper leader? He didn’t want to think about that. Didn’t want to think of the what ifs, the possibilities. He just wanted to sit down and rest. Close his eyes and never open them again.

  The fight he’s been fighting ever since he was a child turned out to be an unwinnable battle. How could he go on with that knowledge?

  Still, something pushed him forward. One of his fighters was still an unknown.

  “Excuse me,” Galvin approached one of the workers. “Where’s Lord Seldam?” The woman turned her face. Galvin could recognize that face anywhere, even through the red puffy eyes and tear-stained face. That was Clara, wife to said Lord.

  “You,” she breathed. “He trusted you. And you left him and his people for dead.” She shook her head.

  Galvin looked around and realized the rubble in front of him used to be the house that Lord Seldam lived in. He remembered when he came to the balcony of Seldam’s place and showed him the will of his people. A town angry at the kingdom and ready to taste victory. What a foolish time that was…

  “I’m sorry,” Galvin said. The sight of watching the poor woman sob into her hands cut worse than anything King Rai’Shal did to him.

  “We have not been able to find a body. We’re not sure if we’re ever going to,” she spoke softly. “Leave this town, you monster. You and the king, you’re the same.” Another punch to the gut. “You’re willing to sacrifice lives for your cause. Only difference is that the king will say when he’s sacrificing. You just lie and give people hope while looking the other way.” Another sob. “Sorry won’t bring him back. Sorry isn’t going to bring any of them back.”

  Galvin turned his back without another word and continued strolling through town aimlessly.

  What had he done?

  All the scheming and planning, and nothing to show for it. He didn’t once consider the ramifications of his plan. So many people hurt and killed, and seeing it firsthand brought him back to reality. Perhaps giving up the fight was for the best.

  One month later

  Guenevir paced the room, anxious. She didn’t dare leave Stormwins Peak. She didn’t know what lay beyond the mound of rock she was living on. News had reached her of the battle, and of Galvin’s defeat. And she waited for Galvin to come home. And waited. He hasn’t shown up yet.

  Neither him nor Morwin. Morwin should have been back, right? Galvin didn’t specify how long Morwin would be gone for. Did they just leave her there and plan to create another group of rebels without her and go fight the battle she wanted to join in on? She quickly shook her head of those absurd ideas. They would never do something like that.

  A breeze blew, rustling her hair. Right, the building didn’t have any windows. She left and breathed in the clear air.

  A month and a half has gone by since Galvin left, and no hint of whether he was alive. Some of the messengers that reported to her stated the state of things, but she dared not leave the mountain without instruction from Galvin. There were times when she came close to taking the leap, but held back. Galvin’s plans usually worked. After all, it was his idea to bring Morwin to their side, and although it took longer than expected, he succeeded. She had to hold onto the hope of Galvin winning.

  Kaden waited with her as well, in his own little hut.

  A rustling sounded from behind her. She spun around to see a familiar face standing there.

  Galvin. And he was hurt. Scars ran along his arm and healing bruises littered his face. But he returned.

  She couldn’t help herself but throw her arms around his body, enveloping him in her embrace. “You should have come back sooner,” she whispered, clutching him tighter.

  “I know,” he whispered. “I tried, I really did. But I couldn’t scale the mountain in my condition.”

  “You asshole.” She let the tears flow onto the fabric of his tunic and she didn’t care.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “I know,” he said. Something about him changed.

  “Where is Jules?”

  “He isn’t here?”

  Guenevir shook her head.

  “Then he must be dead too.”

  She froze, letting go of the embrace and staring into Galvin’s eyes. “Please say it isn’t so. It’s just a cruel joke, right? This month and a half with you away. You didn’t actually fight the king. You guys were planning a prank on me, weren’t you?” Tears stung at her eyes.

  Galvin slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry. It was my fault. Darius died fighting the king, but in the end, Rai’Shal proved himself unkillable. The plan failed.”

  Guenevir fell to the ground, burying her face into her hands. Jules had been the one to save her, to raise her like a second child. Saved her from the hell she faced day to day. And now… he’s just gone. No, it wasn’t confirmed. He still had to be alive somewhere. She clenched her fists, not able to accept this outcome.

  “Come with me,” she demanded. “We’re going to go back to Rathalin, take out every last soldier within those god-forsaken walls, and kill the damn king!” She didn’t even realize she’d raised her voice that much.

  Galvin, however, remained calm through it. All he did was shake his head. “Guenevir, no,” he said. “I came back to tell you we’re going to give up our fight. From this day forward, Justicar is dead. I’m done fighting.”

  Those words hit her like another death. “No,” she spoke. “Not you. Of all people, please tell me you aren’t giving up as well.”

  “I’ve led many people to their deaths,” Galvin said. “And I am just so tired of it all. The king might come for me any day now and I might not wake up. I’ve had to live with that fear for the past month. If we go against the king, we’re going to die.

  “I felt his power that day in Rathalin over ten years ago during the battle. I’d forgotten what kind of a terrifying force he was. I should have remembered and ran away. But what did I do? I kept fighting.

  “I kept fighting and where did that get us?” his voice rose in volume. “Darius, Jules, Seldam, they’re all dead! They’re not coming back to help us in this fight! It’s hopeless! The king is immortal! We can’t beat him no matter what kind of trick we try.”

  “If we can’t kill the king,” Guenevir spoke, her voice trembling with her denial. “Then we take over the kingdom by force with an army. Morwin is overseas, right? He’s going to come back with an army! This has to work, Galvin!”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t send Morwin overseas to send for help. I knew from Axwel that the Aylin Islands didn’t have an army. They’re a peaceful country. I sent him to live there so I could do something right for once in my life. I sent him there to protect my little brother.” Galvin sighed, and Guenevir noticed tears were welling up in his eyes. “Don’t you see? This battle can’t be won. Justicar stood for hope in the darkest of times, but that hope is gone from me now. This rebellion… it’s over.”

  Ashwin walked along the front courtyard of the palace, his mind racing, many thoughts circulating all at once. That attack that happened more than a month ago by one of the rebels… it certainly was the bravest one yet. Done by someone ready to give up his life.

  But time has passed since then. Why was the king calling Ashwin to his palace now?

  He was no warrior. He couldn’t join the army to replace those who died. As far as he was concerned, he was exempt from the draft. He’s more useful for snuffing out rebels and traitors! After all, that’s all he’s been doing since that night the leader of Justicar came.

  Finding out all those who helped him escape the city. Of course, they’d be imprisoned, enslaved, or executed. Depending on the king’s mood when the time of judgment comes.

  Despite knowing his exemption from the draft, a pang of nervousness still rested in his stomach. The anticipation of speaking with the king rocked through him. Eventually, he came face to face with the grand doors.

  Before he could open it, it swung open, revealing several guards standing there. “The king has summoned me,” Ashwin said, maintaining calmness in his voice.

  Even if he Absorbed the sapphire for Serenity, he couldn’t help but feel the spike of anxiety.

  “We know,” the guard on the right said.

  “Now come with us,” the one on the left spoke.

  Ashwin obliged.

  The guards led him through the familiar halls, going down intertwining hallways, moving past the foyer, dining room, kitchen, several washrooms. Even though Ashwin has been to this palace many times in the past, the grandness of it never ceased to amaze him.

  Eventually, they came to a door that wasn’t like any of the others. A door he’s seen many times, the steel it was made of covered in a thick layer of rust and several cobwebs clinging along the corners.

  “This is the basement,” Ashwin spoke, turning to the guards. They nodded before pulling something out. A piece of cloth which they both put over their eyes.

  “Anyone who sees this place that is not the king will die,” one of them spoke. “So it’s best we not risk it.”

  “Then hand me one,” Ashwin demanded.

  “Anyone who sees it except for you, apparently,” one of the guards said.

  “I don’t know why, but the king has chosen you for something,” the other guard said.

  Ashwin’s heart skipped a beat. Was he being promoted to a Minister? Surely one of those men would know the secrets of the basement, right?

  What kind of Minister would he be? Information? He did help the king with his Screening abilities. Perhaps Rai’Shal finally realized the value he would bring. He’d always hoped that his employment within the government extended beyond simply being the head servant of Lord De’Shai.

  “Now shall we?” one of the guards said, using a walking stick to aid him to the door. One turn of the handle and a loud creak echoed through the otherwise calm palace.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” Ashwin whispered before following the guard’s lead. They descended down a flight of stairs and came to another door, this one the opposite of the first door’s look, rocking a clean and shiny appearance.

  Although Ashwin was the only one with sight among them, he still allowed the guards to lead him through.

  He gasped at what he saw on the other side. Fancy beds littered the area, with blankets made of the softest cloth on top, neatly prepared. This room was nothing like he’s ever seen. The floors made of smooth steel instead of the regular marble, dotted with a checker pattern, free of any blemishes or deformations.

  “Who sleeps here?” Ashwin spoke.

  “It’s best you don’t say anything else or we all die,” one of the guards said, continuing to usher Ashwin along.

  As he moved, he could see women on top of them, most appearing drained and sweaty. What is this place?

  The sound of an infant crying rang out.

  Serenity.

  This was all normal. Of course he’d be the one who’s shown this. He was to be trusted by the king.

  Breathe. In and out.

  While Absorbing his sapphire, he could tell his eyes growing a blue color. The sign of him having an Affinity for it. He clutched the sapphire harder, drawing in more of its essence.

  They came to the end of the fancy room. “This is where we stop,” one of the guards spoke before pushing Ashwin through a door and closing it behind him.

  The next area was nothing like the place before it. This felt more like… a vault. Some place to safeguard a deep secret.

  And at the end of the place, King Rai’Shal stood, his gem-encrusted cloak draped over him and holding the scepter he’s always known to carry.

  “Your majesty,” Ashwin spoke, giving the king the deepest bow he could muster.

  King Rai’Shal turned around.

  Ashwin couldn’t tell the expression on that man. Bemusement? Happiness? Sorrow?

  “Ashwin, the legendary Screener, whose name will bring terror among the members of Justicar in hiding among us. I welcome you, to my bunker.”

  “Your bunker, sire?’ Ashwin asked.

  Behind Rai’Shal, an oak pedestal stood, and inside of it, a strange gem Ashwin has never seen before sat. On top of the pedestal was a clay pot, with a wilted flower on top.

  “What is this place?”

  “Somewhere more Dragikiri are born, and a place where I can expend them to my own uses.”

  With a clap of his hand, someone emerged from the shadows, a boy no older than eight years old.

  “This gem,” King Rai’Shal spoke, motioning to the glass. “Is very precious to me. It comes from my homeland, which I’ve left long ago in a scarred and destroyed mess. This gem is the only thing that ties me to it, and the thing which will return my salvation.”

  The boy stepped forth, coming to the king’s side.

  “Is he your son?” Ashwin asked. “Those women in the other room, are they all your mistresses?”

  Rai’Shal let out a chuckle. “Oh heavens no,” he spoke. “This boy is a product of two Dragikiri, which drastically increases the chances of someone bearing the Blessing.”

  “That’s where all the Dragikiri go that are captured. Everyone just assumes they’re in your army somewhere, but the numbers don’t add up.”

  “You always were more of the logistical type. Asking the right questions. This might only be the second time we’ve met, but I’ve heard reports from Lord De’Shai about your skills, and I’ve been keeping a close eye on you.”

  “Why did you bring me here?” Ashwin asked, before quickly throwing in a “sire”.

  “To show you my creed. All the Dragikiri in this land are oblivious to the potential they hold. Sapphires, rubies, topazes, emeralds, diamonds, aquamarines, opals, and amethysts. Those are the only gemstones they know to exist. But what if I told you there are others, in different lands? “This gem before you, called algodonite, is one such stone.

  “You probably already deduced that I’m not even from Agnius. And I’d say you’re right. My home was a beautiful country called Arbuia, on the other side of the world. Makes sense why the gods would choose that place to hide the most powerful of gemstones.”

  Ashwin reached out for the essence but realized he couldn’t sense anything. The glass, it was some protective material.

  Ashwin looked the king in the eyes to see the emotion that man held. He dared not use his sapphire on him. All Ashwin could see was a burning fire. The anger and madness of the king seeped through.

  King Rai’Shal lifted the glass. And a powerful pressure was released into the room, as if gravity itself warped and changed around Ashwin. Tons of pressure came down onto him suddenly and he found himself struggling to breath.

  The essence within the algodonite. A powerful magic he dared not Absorb into him. But the boy standing next to the king, he appeared unbothered.

  “The homeland I left I had to leave not out of personal choice. But because it no longer existed. My wish is to bring the beauty of that place back. To return Arubia back to its formal glory. And what if I told you the way to do that is with this powerful stone, a gem that can transcend the boundaries of time?”

  King Rai’Shal made a swift movement and knocked the flower pot to the ground, letting it shatter and scattering the soil everywhere. Then he nodded at the boy.

  The pressure lessened. Ever so slightly, but Ashwin could feel it. A pound off his shoulder out of tons.

  A strange glow came from the pot, and pieces of clay moving on its own and putting itself back together, all the shards fitting into a puzzle to create a cohesive shape once again.

  But the flower still wilted.

  “Push on, boy,” the king spat, a lust and greed in his eyes. Try as the kid might, but there was no reviving that flower.

  “Why not use your own powers?” Ashwin asked. “You’re a powerful Dragikiri, you could just do that yourself.”

  “Were you not listening to me?” Rai’Shal demanded. “I do not come from this land. I do not have this Blessing. I never was a Dragikiri. I hold a different Blessing, so I don’t feel this gem at all.

  “Through all my research and discovery, I know the Words of this gemstone. One of them is Time, and with that, I will revert this world to what it was before. No Dragikiri I know of right now can achieve this feat, but I have not lost hope. Not in six hundred years. And not for another six hundred. Because that is my creed.”