The streets of Farryn were awash in beautiful colors as the people prepared for the New Year's celebration. It was a special time of celebration. The new year signified new beginnings in Vorthe; new couples are united in marriage at the beginning of the new year, so it was one long celebration that led into another and another.

  Ash walked around the city of Farryn taking in the view. Three years ago she came to know the world outside the slums.

  “What are those?”

  She remembered asking the maid she accompanied outside the Royal Estate. She had pointed to a horse, because she didn't know what it was, and it was the most beautiful beast she'd ever seen.

  “They're called horses, dear, they are used to pull carriages, and soldiers also ride on them.”

  “People can ride on ‘em? Oh shweets, that’s amazing! Can I ride 'em too?”

  “Sorry dear, but we have to run that errand fast else we return late to the estate.”

  “Hmm.”

  She had responded, looking a little disappointed. She was used to living free in the slums even though she had nothing, she could do almost anything, most times with consequences. She was coming to understand now that life in this part of the city came with rules that must be obeyed.

  Ash smiled as she remembered. She was young and naive back then. Alone and frightened. She hadn’t gotten justice, and even justice wasn’t enough. She wanted revenge. The psychopathic teenager who had taken her family away from her got away with a public warning. Now she’s Blank, but the psycho's already Sprout. She needed to get stronger fast so she could have her revenge.

  Uncle Rihal keeps telling me that Jerome will get revenge for us, but when? He won't even take me to him!

  Ash suppressed her frustration as she headed towards the Royal Estate. She’d been out on running errands for her master.

  When are you coming home Jerome? She thought in frustration.

  ~~~

  Darkness...

  Mountains...

  A Mountain...

  One, unlike the rest of them.

  Jerome tried opening his eyes but they wouldn’t open. He tried to move. His body was stiff and it didn’t budge an inch. Then he noticed his core. He was cycling faster than he ever had. But strange was that he could see his core inside himself, unlike before, when he had to imagine and feel the flow of essence inside him. It had completely taken shape, like a tiny seed ready to sprout.

  Sprout! I'm Sprout!

  With little effort, he slowed down his core rapidly and began picking himself up with great difficulty. Pain wracked his body, unlike anything he had ever felt before. He began convulsing violently, his muscles spasming repeatedly. His eyes almost rolled into his head before he quickly began cycling again. Jerome calmed down after a while, his muscles twitching periodically. He tried standing up again and his body made cracking sounds with every movement. Debris fell off his body as he stood, and he was immediately hit by the raging currents of the river. Jerome quickly recalled what happened before he passed out.

  Hedon.

  He grabbed hold of the undergrowth in the water before he was swept away by the strong currents. He noticed he was naked. My robes must have been destroyed by the water, he thought.

  He quickly searched around and began picking up the storage bags that were on him before the incident. They were still in pristine condition. They were artifacts and couldn’t be easily destroyed.

  There were a lot of them. With a thought, he used Suzzie to pick them all up. But he noticed something. Suzzie came out of his fingertips. She’s supposed to be a set of gauntlets, how’s it she came out of my fingertips?

  Jerome shot out of the water with wings flapping behind him. There was no point searching for answers to questions he didn’t have at the moment. The effort it took to do this put a lot of burden on his mind and body and he wondered why. He had done this as a Blank, why was he feeling burdened by it now? He flew up towards the outcropping that jutted out of the canyon wall, where he had found Ash lying in her own blood but it was empty. The blood had been cleaned up, probably by scavenging birds of prey.

  Jerome’s rage awakened. The beast reared its head but Jerome shoved it down forcefully. He looked towards the direction of the current as the faces of his friends fleeted by in his mind’s eye. Not all of them had been stabbed before being thrown into the river below. There’s a chance some of them are still alive, he thought.

  Jerome lashed onto that hope. He had nothing else to go on except hope.He quickly took out some robes from one of his storage bags and put them on. The robes were supposed to be a gift to Moss. Jerome shot forward in the direction of the current. How much time had passed? he thought to himself. He hoped it hadn’t been too long. What must have happened to Ash. Was it birds of prey? Some flying magical beast? Maybe she was thrown into the river too. Jerome wanted to hope nothing bad had happened to her but her condition the last time he saw her was grave.

  Jerome’s body hurt like hell as he flew. His back hurt where his wings protruded out of him. And they weren’t cooperating as he flew. Heck, his body wasn’t cooperating with him. Soon enough he fell out of the sky and crashed into the river.

  Try again. Try again, Jerome. They must be out there somewhere, he thought as he struggled to push himself to the surface of the water. The strong current of the river violently pulled him along eastward. He tried to get control of his body’s movement, but his limbs didn’t obey him. Jerome was disoriented. His body wasn’t cooperating. His limbs were beginning to go numb.

  With one final push he shot out of the water, flying high into the sky. He landed on the cliff edge of the canyon and fell down flat on his back, breathing hard. Jerome passed out moments later.

  ~~~

  The sun was high up in the sky. And the wind was blowing heavily making it hard to hear anything but the sound of gusts. Jerome awakened to the sound of birds screeching high up in the sky. He opened his eyes and struggled into a sitting position. His eyes hurt as the sun shone down on him. Or was that the aura in the air?

  Jerome stood up and looked around. He immediately noticed his clothes. Have I grown taller? How long has it been since I was thrown off the cliff? He thought. His body was a lot skinnier now like it used to be before Mhen Agrh’ur. But he was also very weak. Weaker than he’d like to be. He looked towards the direction the river was flowing with a wistful expression.

  I’m gonna come back for you guys. I promise. Just hold on…hold on for me. Jerome turned around and walked the other way. He walked back to the spot where he was thrown off the cliff. The soil looked undisturbed. It didn’t look like there had been any fighting recently. Jerome sighed thinking he had been under the river for far longer than it appeared. Maybe a few seasons.

  He jumped down to the outcropping on the cliff wall and sat down in a meditative posture, his body in pain as he took a deep breath and began to cycle. Time passed by slowly as he absorbed the pure essence in the air. Jerome could distinguish the strange aura in the air now. Sword Aura. It was sharp and felt dangerous. He remembered Rihal’s teachings once again.

  “To comprehend Sword Force, one had to comprehend the edge of the blade.”

  “What’s the edge of a blade?”

  Jerome visualized the Sword Aura in the air and magnified it in his vision. He shaved off particle after particle of the Sword Aura in his mind’s eye, as though it was physical matter until it was as thin and sharp as a blade’s edge.

  Blade’s Edge, he thought and looked around him. It’ll be a fitting name. Jerome closed his eyes once again. With his understanding, he began absorbing the Sword Aura in the air. Pain wracked him once again but he held on. His body convulsed from the pain, yet he withstood it—not for long, though. His heart felt like it was about to explode and Jerome felt death approaching. He quickly slowed down his core, even pushing out some of the Sword Aura.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  What’s wrong with my body? he thought as blood flowed from his nose, ears, and mouth. This shouldn’t be normal. His eyes were unfocused and watery. He felt a splitting headache that made him want to curl up and into oblivion. The pain was unbearable.

  Jerome remained in his cross-legged position, however. Waiting out the pain. After a while, he opened his eyes and raised his right hand slightly with his first two fingers outstretched. The essence in his body spiked. Jerome felt like he was zapped by lightning and the hairs on his skin rose. He forced the pain to the back of his mind. His focus sharpened. He took hold of that feeling and channeled essence to his hand. With his outstretched fingers, he sliced into the rock wall beside him with an invisible blade.

  Pain! His fingers curled involuntarily as his hand shook from the pain. My nervous system is a mess! he thought as he held his right hand in his left watching it tremble continuously. He lost the feeling in that hand right away and couldn’t move it anymore.

  Damn it! What the hell is going on?! Jerome couldn’t practice anymore. The more he did, the more his body broke down from within. He needed rest as he was exhausted and out of breath. He began taking stock of his injuries. I can’t slow down my core to a halt. If I do that, my nerves and blood vessels would cause me pain from the lack of essence passing through them.

  If I cycle too fast, it’ll put too much pressure on my channels and my entire body. “Ah,” he sighed, “so much for being a prodigy.” What did Hedon do to my body? he felt regret. He knew now that he shouldn’t have antagonized the teenager.

  The bridge’s been burned already, and he’s gonna pay for bringing my family into this! His eyes filled with determination and a thirst for vengeance.

  The flowing steel had merged with his body somehow, but he could use it just as before it did. That should be a good thing, right? He took out the storage bag containing the Sunfire stone and held it for a while before dipping his hand into it. He couldn't bring out the stone here as there was nowhere to place it.

  Jerome sighed. This is gonna hurt really bad. “Aaaargh!”He screamed as he started absorbing its essence straight from the pouch.

  ~~~

  Jerome flew towards the City of Farryn. His body was on fire from the inside out. The Sunfire stone was too potent for his battered body. He hurriedly flew forward with his nerves on fire. He soon fell out of the sky crashing into the earth with a loud bang.

  The locals of the area saw this and fled in haste. Many of them were mere mortals who didn’t cultivate and didn’t visit cities where sacred artists dwelled, so seeing someone fall from the sky was bizarre. Jerome tried to stand up but the pain was unbearable. He forced himself; groaning loudly as he picked himself up. The wings at his back dissolved into his body and his paralyzed arm was now broken.

  Ain’t it a beautiful day, he thought looking upward in frustration. He began walking towards Farryn with a limp. He had to walk for miles. Thankfully, even though he was bruised and battered, his body was still that of a sacred artist. Jerome stopped to rest for a while as he neared the city gates. He’d been walking for half a day and it was night already. There was a line of people waiting to get into the city.

  He didn’t want to draw attention to himself so he decided to join the line. He wrapped his head in a small scarf to hide his face before getting in line. The line in front of the gate was quite long, as a lot of people wanted to get into the city to purchase accommodations.

  How long can I hold on here, he thought in agitation. Little by little, the line moved forward, and more people joined behind Jerome. A fight broke out behind him but Jerome didn’t bother looking back. It was the survival of the strongest out here. It was already dark and everyone wanted to get into the city before the gates were shut.

  Someone began walking towards the front from the back, skirting the line and looking for sheep among wolves. He took a glance at Jerome and saw someone weak and probably at death’s door. Jerome was hunched over in pain and his body was trembling as his nerves couldn’t stay still.

  The man stopped beside him and spoke loudly in a hoarse voice, “Leave the line, or lose an arm.”

  “Walk away,” Jerome said, loud and clear without even looking at the man. The line moved and Jerome limped forward.

  The man was taken aback. The kid in front of him was surprisingly confident even though he looked fragile and in pain. He looked Jerome up and down, just to be sure he wasn’t from a noble home. Jerome’s robe was a cheap-looking one, something common on the streets of Farryn. The scarf around his head concealed most of his face, but one could still tell he was a kid. But what drew the man’s attention was that Jerome was clean, from head to boots.

  “This was a misunderstanding, honored one. Do forgive this one,” he said with a bow and quickly walked back the way he came, not waiting for an answer from Jerome.

  “Brother, what the hell happened?” The man’s brother and partner in crime asked him when he got to his position on the line.

  “He ain't no one we can mess with, brother, he clean. Too clean ta be from the streets.”

  “What the hell ya come here talkin' he clean.”

  “I’m tellin’ ya brother, we don't wan’ mess with that boy.”

  “You watch me, watch me get we a space up front.”

  The second man left the line as his brother took his position. He was older than his brother, clearly stronger. He walked up to Jerome, speaking in the same raspy voice. “So you’d rather lose an arm, won’t ya?” He raised his hand to place it on Jerome’s shoulder.

  “I’m gon’ give ya to the count of—”

  Something sliced into his upper arm and drew blood. He quickly withdrew his arm but it was too late. He shot backward and looked at his arm. What he saw made his heart drop. His lower arm was dangling from bits of flesh still attached to his upper arm, with blood gushing out like a scarlet fountain.

  “What’s your name?” Jerome asked him.

  “I, I, don’t have, don’t have…” he stuttered out an incomplete reply. His eyes were erratic, and his racing heartbeat could be heard a mile away.

  He didn’t have a name.

  Jerome looked at him for the first time. The man was a roughly built Sprout, and haggard looking. Probably went through life, fighting tooth and nail to earn a living, plus he hadn’t taken a decent bath in like a year. He held his dangling arm as he cycled to stop the blood flow. That arm was as good as gone if he didn’t meet with a physician by morning.

  It was the first time Jerome felt someone cycling. He could feel the essence from the man’s core moving towards his arm. So this is how Sprouts perceive the world. He thought in fascination.

  “I should end you. Not because you’re pitiful, but because you’re a parasite in this world, but I won’t,” he said, making sure to infuse his words with as much venom as possible. “Learn from your mistakes.”

  Jerome looked away. He noticed that the person in front of him and the one behind him had put some space between him and them. They were afraid of him. No average Sprout could fatally injure an older Sprout, especially with such ease. It was well known that different sacred artists in the same Realm were powerful with respect to age and experience, except you were from a powerful family fighting a street rat. The older they were, the stronger they would be.

  The nameless man scampered off with his arm holding back tears and pain.

  If you wanna hit someone, get ready to be hit. If you wanna beat someone, get ready to take a beating. If you wanna kill someone… Jerome got lost in thought as the line moved. He tried to remember where he heard those words but couldn’t. It didn’t matter though, it just shows that reality is something every man had to face for himself.

  ~~~

  Jerome had never seen the nighttime in Farryn. It was a beautiful sight to behold. For a moment he forgot his deteriorating body and took in the sight of the nighttime Farryn. There was an ongoing parade on the streets with beautifully decorated carnival floats, masquerades, dancers, jugglers, martial artists, dance fighting, and so on.

  Houses stood tall and colorful everywhere he looked, with colorful ribbons crisscrossing the rooftops and decorated lanterns hanging from them. Banners carrying the crest of the Royal family hung from rooftops as well. All the houses had these ribbons and banners hanging down their sides with tiny bells attached to them. They gave off sweet jingling sounds as the wind blew at them.

  There was a celebration but he didn't know what for. He tore his eyes away from the street as he walked towards the Northern part of the city. The essence in the city was dense. Now that he was Sprout, his senses were a lot more powerful than before. Albeit, it was painful to use them. As he breathed in, he could feel the difference compared to outside the city.

  Some men would kill to live in a place like this. One could deduce how the concentration of essence in a particular location influenced its societal value. That was an important criterion for standard living, seeing how Farryn was a highly populated city.

  ~~~

  “Master, you called.”

  Rihal appeared behind his master, Damien Vorthe. He had been training Ash to pass the time and was bored to death. He had wanted to do something, anything to get his mind off Jerome. But Ash reminded him of how he had failed Jerome.

  As soon as he got his master’s call, he was overjoyed. Damien Vorthe sighed deeply. “What am I going to do with you, kid?” he muttered to himself. He’d been Rihal's master for almost half a century and had gotten used to teaching him the same thing over and over; it had become a song.

  “Emotion, Rihal,” Damien said as Rihal appeared behind him.

  “Emotions get in the way in our line of work. A rational mind means a rational man, which is the foundation of success,” they both recited.

  The kid had great talent, but all of a sudden he started thinking with what was between his legs, instead of what was between his ears. He fell in love with one of the common folk, the Royal Family found out about it, and he had his heart broken. Rihal had remained broken ever since, and Damien Vorthe didn’t know how to fix him.

  “I have news from the Sovereign,” Damien turned to face him.

  Silence.

  Rihal knew what his master was doing. It was a matter of how long he could stand not knowing what he wanted to know, even though the one to give the information was standing right in front of him.

  Discipline.

  Rihal stood, head bowed with his right hand in a fist over his chest. Waiting. His breathing was becoming ragged. If he cycled to calm his nerves, he lost. It meant he had no control over his emotions. And he’d shame himself in the eyes of his master. Worst he’d shame his master.

  He shut his eyes and took deep breaths, taking care not to cycle. Thirty breaths of time in silence became sixty, which became a hundred. The tension in the air was so thick, you could cut out a slice of it with a knife.

  “He has awakened.”

  Rihal shook visibly.