I

  In the darkness of the forest, the trees twisted like ghostly silhouettes. Garmo made his way stumbling, not like a hunter, but like a beast fleeing its predator. An arrow protruded from his chest, and his right forearm was a shapeless mass of flesh and splintered bone, as if it had been shoved into a grinder.

  ?Damn it, damn it, damn it... Life is escaping me with every heartbeat, I have no time left?, he thought frantically.

  With a stifled roar, he channeled the little Ether he had left into his left hand. He used it like a press, squeezing the muscles of his shattered arm until the flesh itself contracted over the bone, forming a grotesque tourniquet to stem the hemorrhage.

  ?That will buy time... now the chest... I think it punctured a lung?, he reasoned, as a deep cough ripped a spurt of blood from him, which he spat against the undergrowth. The taste of iron flooded his mouth.

  The world began to spin. Leaning against a trunk, he slid down to the ground.

  —I think I will rest here —he whispered to the solitude of the forest. His last strength focused on a silent plea—. I know I don't deserve to live... but, by Blans... just grant me to die beside them.

  The darkness enveloping him transformed into the memory of an immense sea; the sea that separated enemies. On this side, Corvus, with its smell of steel and lies. On the other, the frozen wind of Vilgur, his home. The home of the "barbarians". He remembered the tense calm between both kingdoms, a peace that felt like a knife about to fall.

  We travel to the past, to a village in Vilgur where young Garmo, twelve years old, occasionally helped his father, Bjor, on security rounds. Bjor held the title of village chief, and responsibilities weighed on Garmo's shoulders.

  —Garmo, I hope one day you become the village chief —his father told him—. But remember that the most important thing is your strength with the soul fire.

  —Of course, father —Garmo replied—. I train every day with the adults to awaken my inner fire as soon as possible.

  On one of those rounds, Garmo felt the presence of a beast.

  —Father, careful, there is something around here —he whispered.

  Suddenly, a black shadow jumped on Chief Bjor, biting his left side.

  —Garmo, be careful, that animal is poisonous —his father warned him, feeling his body go numb.

  Bjor channeled all the ether he could, creating the classic Vilgur warrior armor, a protection with which barbarians fought using their hands as weapons. Bjor began looking for the beast, but it was unpredictable. Seeing him semi-kneeling, the beast went for its final attack. But it was all theater on Bjor's part. At the last moment, he caught it and struck it with the power of a bear; however, he realized it was a human dressed in black, with bone claws shaped like jaws to simulate beast attacks.

  Garmo saw his father prepare for the final blow. But in that instant, the invader looked at him. A transparent sheet fell from one of his eyes, revealing a gaze full of malice. An eye with a slit iris, like that of a serpent from the demonic abyss. The stranger laughed as he watched Bjor clench his jaw. Blue fire erupted from the stranger's head and began to consume both his body and his father's.

  —Garmo, get away from the fire! —was the last thing his father said.

  When Garmo returned to the village with more people, they found Bjor's charred body next to a pile of ashes where only some bones and the beast jaws remained.

  —I swear it was a person dressed in black, not a mana beast —Garmo said.

  But the incident was closed as a sad surprise attack by a mana beast whose combustion ended up reaching Chief Bjor.

  Years after his father's death, Garmo, now a warrior, emigrated from Vilgur with his fiancée, Keila. She, a woman of six feet with intense blonde hair that almost blinded with the reflection of the sun, had not been able to channel ether by the age of eighteen.

  —Keila, you don't have to leave the kingdom because of those antiquated laws —Garmo told her, his voice laden with worry—. There are many in the kingdom who do not handle the soul fire and, look at them, they are still here.

  In the Kingdom of Vilgur, strength was the only thing that gave status, so much so that any citizen who could not create soul fire (ether) before eighteen had to leave the kingdom or risk their life in an almost deadly ritual.

  —Yes, but what do they do? —Keila replied, her voice full of anger and frustration—. They clean excrement, carry the dead from diseases, sleep in stables... they are invisible to others. Even a horse could be worth more than me.

  —But I don't care —Garmo said with a sympathetic voice.

  —But I do. I don't want you to be the husband of someone who anchors you to misery. I will go to Corvus, they say many like me live in those lands.

  —I think you won't change your mind. Then, I will go with you —Garmo said with a smile.

  Since both kingdoms did not have very cordial relations, the journey was not easy. They had to pay an illegal boatman to smuggle them across. Upon arriving in the Kingdom of Corvus, a compatriot from Vilgur received them in the town of Argent, a port satellite town of the city of Uzziel. The contact offered them work as fishermen. They had a tradition that, when visitors could support themselves, they had to be candidates to receive others from Vilgur who were in the same predicament.

  But before doing all this, it was imperative that they leave behind everything they were. The couple went to a shaman near the port, who lived quite well.

  —Hello, young ones, come here to initiate you into your new life —she told them.

  The shaman, of moderate age and the physique of a common citizen, touched their heads, and both Keila and Garmo began to feel as if pages of knowledge were being inserted under pressure. The shaman removed her hands, and a headache began to breed in their temples.

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  —Are you okay, Keila? —Garmo asked.

  ?What are you saying to me, Garmo? I don't understand anything?, Keila thought as she watched Garmo speak in strange tongues, until suddenly she began to understand him. —What is happening? —she asked.

  —Let's say you now know the language of this kingdom —the shaman explained—. It is complex to explain, but give thanks that the "Corvus Language Express Course" now exists. Before, you had to hide until you learned the language on your own. Also, you, big guy, drink this —she passed him a black potion with an unfriendly smell.

  —Is it necessary? —Garmo asked.

  —For you yes, for her no.

  Garmo drank the potion and watched as the color of the hair on his arms and legs changed to black.

  —Garmo, your hair is dark now —Keila said with surprise.

  —Almost everything is ready, now you just need names from the kingdom —the shaman said—. The tradition is that your names have the first letter of your barbarian name, but you can also take a name from this book.

  The shaman threw a book to Garmo, which poetically opened at the letter 'G', and Garmo chose the name Gabriel.

  —I will call myself Esperanza —Keila said—. So that every time you call me, it reminds us of the hope of this new life.

  Days passed, weeks, and months. Garmo and Keila got used to the town of Argent. As fishermen, their life did not have great luxuries, but it allowed them to eat and live quietly. After months passed, Esperanza realized she was expecting a child from Garmo. The life illegal immigrants could have was not the most comfortable when it came to extra expenses like illnesses, accidents, or, in this case, expanding the family. Due to shortages, they could only opt for medical care from scholars (Erudites), who tried their best but did not have the best implements for all complications.

  Esperanza had complications during childbirth. The situation could have been resolved with the help of a devotee, but that was not the case. Keila died giving birth to a girl. Garmo named her Ziel, a diminutive of Uzziel, in honor of the city that had become his home.

  Ziel grew up like any other girl in the town of Argent, playing among the few children that remained. The fishing town was a place of passage; young parents left in search of better prospects and immigrants, for the most part, preferred to live invisibly, with no other aspiration than to return the favor that had allowed them to reach a new land. Argent was like its own beach: always the same, but with sands that changed with every wave.

  Most of the day, Ziel was alone while Garmo worked at sea, fighting for the basics to maintain his humble life and, in the future, to be able to help another compatriot cross.

  When Ziel turned six, her health began to break. She started moving with difficulty, with a strange walk that twisted with every step.

  —Hello, Daddy. How did fishing go? —Ziel said, going to greet him.

  That scene broke Garmo's heart. Before, Ziel ran to him with an overflowing smile. Now, that same happiness was eclipsed by the effort of every step.

  —Good, daughter. Today we caught quite a lot —he replied, forcing a cheerful tone—. In fact, we will go to the doctor and offer him part of the catch so he can check you.

  Garmo felt a pang of guilt for taking several days to gather the money. It wasn't even for a Devotee, but for the town's Erudite doctor, with more accessible prices.

  —Well, Daddy, let's go, but after eating! —Ziel exclaimed, her face lighting up upon seeing that Garmo had brought brightly colored fish.

  —Gabriel, next time, bring Ziel sooner. We'll see about payment later —said Patricio, an Erudite doctor of about fifty, with gray hair and an affable personality that made him popular among Vilgur immigrants. Knowing their situation, he often offered his services at a reduced price or even for free, but Garmo hated the idea of others lowering themselves because of his inability to make money.

  —Of course, Patricio. I won't hesitate —Garmo lied.

  After a physical exam, Patricio gave Ziel a honey-colored marble.

  —Take this fruit candy and go outside for a while.

  —Okay, doctor —the girl obeyed.

  When they were alone, the doctor's expression turned grave.

  —Gabriel, I am not clear on what is happening to her, I only know it advances fast. And I need to ask a question. I want you to be sincere. —His eyes locked onto Garmo's—. You are from Vilgur, right? Just like her mother.

  Garmo shrank, ashamed.

  —Yes, doctor, but I don't do anything illegal. I don't even use much Ether, I know that in this kingdom it is better to be a passive user. Sorry for hiding it.

  —It doesn't matter, Gabriel. Most of my patients are from your land, I am not a guard —Patricio reassured him—. I ask you because I have seen something similar in other children from Vilgur. Your people have spontaneous Ether awakenings, isn't that right?

  —Yes, we learn to use the soul fire, what you call Ether. I awakened it at ten years old.

  —And what happens if it occurs earlier? —the doctor asked.

  —Nothing, generally. Sometimes, if they feel bad, they are recommended to spend a few days near the Dragon Vein.

  Patricio suspected, confirming his worst fear.

  —That is what is happening. Ziel is having an awakening that is too premature. Her body channels Ether unconsciously, and that is killing her. She cannot resist that level of energy. Maybe in your land the Vein interacted with this condition, but here in Corvus there is nothing similar.

  —Doctor, tell me what I can do. I will do anything —Garmo pleaded, his eyes glassy.

  —As a temporary solution, you could try to channel all the primordial energy around her so her body doesn't absorb it. But it is only a patch. If you return to Vilgur in this state, it is possible the sequelae will be permanent. —The doctor lowered his voice—. Perhaps... perhaps a high-ranking Devotee could cure her aggressively, but that, besides being extremely expensive... The only hope is that you can reach the capital, Gavriel, and wait for a miracle. I am so sorry.

  —Thank you, doctor —Garmo said, and his voice was that of a man dead while alive.

  But the miracle did not arrive. Garmo couldn't even get past the locality of Geduld, stopped by royal guards who controlled access to the capital. He visited every church, every monastery, begging for help for little Ziel, but found only closed doors.

  His only comfort was channeling Ether to the brink of exhaustion to alleviate his daughter's pain. As the days passed, Ziel stopped walking. Garmo carried her on his back, a weight that felt lighter and lighter. It didn't bother her.

  —I like being on Daddy's back, it's like a game. Giddy up, horsie! —she would say with a weak laugh.

  At night, Garmo lost consciousness, only to be woken by Ziel's agitated and feverish breathing. After a week, he understood there was no solution.

  One morning, while cradling her, he told her, with a voice broken by a white lie:

  —Daughter, I think in the end I didn't find my friend. Maybe he went back to Argent. How about we go back to look for him? At home, we will eat glowing fish.

  Ziel died in his arms, on the way back to a home they would never reach.

  Garmo returned to Argent to bury his daughter's body next to his wife's. While he was on his knees at his family's grave, a cold and vengeful thought took over his mind. ?In the end, Corvus and Vilgur are the same shit. Those who have no power only die as invisible beings?.

  He looked at the grave and whispered:

  —My little Ziel, no one wanted to help you because we were invisible to them. But I promise you that we will no longer be invisible to anyone. Never again.

  In the future, Jormun would have to inform his family about what happened, through the commerce offices of Geduld, the nerve center of mercantile information in the locality.

  —Sorry, kid, but access is restricted —said the guard at the entrance.

  Without saying a word, Jormun took out a golden plate with the kingdom's shield and its four symbols: the quill, the sword, the tree, and the book.

  —Go ahead, esteemed taxpayer —the guard rectified immediately.

  Inside, Jormun approached the receptionist.

  —Hello, I want to send a message via Manaphone —he said, showing her the plate. Then, he turned it over, revealing the symbol of a serpent engraved on the back.

  —Immediately, Mr. Irisoch —the woman replied, her tone now treating him with reverential respect.

  In a private room, Jormun activated the device.

  —Hello, this is Jormun. I need to report that a certain Garmo 'The Dog' almost killed me due to an aversion to the Irisoch eyes. Also, something happened on the trip that activated the arcane barrier. Can you inform Mrs. Irisoch?