Book One – Chapter 15

Yu had stuffed himself with Bubs’ dough balls until he was as exhausted from eating as he was from travelling. In his relief and excitement, he had completely forgotten that he could not, for the life of him, digest the doughy food the tairan made. Which meant he probably should not have eaten any of the doughy stuff Bubs had made either. He had been starving, desperate, but now, as he crammed himself on the toilet, writhing in agony, he regretted every single bite.

He regretted coming to the guild. He regretted leaving the estate. He regretted ever arguing with Tria, all the times he fought her instead of just doing what she wanted. Because still, of course, it had to get WORSE.

Yu had not even put his ass down on the seat before the voices from downstairs started crawling into his head. Deltington and Gurs, changing shifts at the guild entrance.

Yu cursed his wretched “senses”. That godforsaken skill of exceptional hearing. He could hear things no one else could — eerie, otherworldly whispers that did not belong. And worse, he also caught voices that definitely existed and belonged to someone, but should not be possible to hear. Not from the distance he could. Not even the sharpest hunters could pick up the things he heard. Not through storms and stone walls, not across rooms, not up two whole damn flights of stairs.

But here he was, listening to every scrape of boots, every shift of weight in their voices. Deltington’s tone, thick with exhaustion, laced with something else he could not place. And Gurs, dripping with hostility. Every syllable, every growl, cutting through his skull with terrifying clarity, as if they were right next to him.

“He is not wizard,” Gurs snarled in his distorted form of Teh. “He is not fighter. He is not flyer. He is child. Runt.”

“No shit,” replied Deltington, the amusement in his voice underlined with resignation.

“What can he? He is not spotter. He sees not the colours. How see enemies in the snow? In the night?“

“I think he sees colours just fine.”

“No. He sees not the colours of you.”

“It’s the silver. The conduits. The excess of Adhar here brings it out well.”

A pause.

“This is the magic?” asked Gurs.

“Well, if you put it like that … No, that’s too simplistic. But … yeah, you know, why not leave it at that.”

“So he sees not the magic. He is not wizard.”

“Let the captain sort that out.”

Yu just sat. He sat frozen, hunched over, the cramps twisting his stomach into knots and forcing out tears. And as he sat and cried, Yu pushed the words down, with all the other shit of the day.