Date: 2018-06-06 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy
Description: The Supreme rules the world. For centuries the Supreme has reigned with an iron fist. The people are slaves to her whim and at the mercy of her followers who revere her as their goddess. Using a supernatural ability, known as the 'Power' she is able to channel emotions and convert them into superhuman abilities. Some Resist. Not all live their lives in servitude. A few rare people also possess the Power and try to fight. These Empowered Ones are hunted mercilessly by the Supreme and her servants, for she knows the threat they pose to her will. None has dared to challenge her outright. That is
Publisher: Firebound Books
Rights: All rights reserved (#331482683103269)

The First Fear

The Empowered Ones Book One

M.S. Olney

Copyright © 2018 by Matthew Olney. All Right Reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of very brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Cover art by Reza Afshar

A big thank you to my wife Chloé for always supporting me.

Preview

Other Books By M.S. OLNEY

The Sundered Crown Saga-

Heir to the Sundered Crown

War for the Sundered Crown

Quest for the Sundered Crown

The Sundered Crown Boxset

Tales of Delfinnia -

The Nightblade

Danon

Terran Defenders: Genesis

Terran Defenders

Unconquered: Blood of Kings

Audiobooks-

Heir to the Sundered Crown

They would not touch her again.

The girl stood in the centre of the flames. The screams of the bad men, friends and family merged with the roar of the fire and the crash of falling timbers.

She watched as one of the bad men stumbled past her, his cloak ablaze and his skin cooking. It smelt like roast pork. The other cloaked figures were either dead or fleeing for their lives. No. They would not take her. She walked out of the ruins of her family home, the smoke and heat not bothering her in the slightest.

The white-hot of the Rage she had felt still lingered in her chest, but the Fear was fading. Despite the horror, the girl laughed. Why should she ever be afraid again?

A body lay on the ash covered ground. Cautiously the girl approached and rolled it over. She blinked. It was her mother. The flames had burnt her to a crisp. Her flesh had melted away to reveal the bone beneath. The Rage built again, but this time something else grew with it. An emotion so powerful that it felt like a lead weight in her heart.

“You would let them take me? Your own daughter!” the girl screamed.

Hate. The emotion she felt was Hate.

The ground trembled causing some of the fire-ravaged buildings to collapse. The girl looked at her hands in surprise. She didn’t know how but she knew that she was the cause of the quake. The cloaked men had wanted to take her away, to take her with them so that they could use her powers.

“Such Anger. Such Fear.”

The girl spun around. With a blue and black cloak billowing in the heat and flame stood the leader of the Empowered Ones. His handsome face was furrowed in concentration as though he were trying to protect himself from the raging inferno. The girl screamed again and lashed out at the man. Unlike the others, however, this one swatted her blows aside with ease. Tears flowed from the girl’s eyes, and her throat was raw from her screams.

“I hate you! Leave me alone!” the girl sobbed. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her; she could feel her limbs becoming heavy, her head felt light. She swung a small fist at the man, but this time she stumbled and fell to her knees. He stepped forward placing a palm on her forehead. A strange tingling sensation coursed through her body and her senses dulled.

“No!” the girl cried weakly before going limp. The Empowered One caught her as she fell and held her close.

“You fear your potential girl,” he whispered as the blackness took her.

Chapter 1.

300 years later

Hesselwit Estate – Western Imperium

Life was good. The sun was high in the sky and casting its heat over the plantation. To anyone out in the fields the temperature would no doubt be unbearable, but Baron Hesselwit was comfortable sitting under the shade of an umbrella held by one of his servants. Sat out on the terrace of his opulent manor house he took a sip from his glass of ice cold apple juice and savoured the cold chill that worked its way down his throat.

Hesselwit lay on his cushioned couch while his slaves toiled in the fields. It was harvest time, and he was willing to do whatever it took to ensure that his workers hit their quota on time. He smiled as the crack of a taskmaster's whip carried on the air.

“A motivated slave is a good slave,” he chuckled to himself.

The slave waving a fan over him stood emotionless. As usual, Hesselwit was surrounded by house slaves that tended to his every need. The man holding the umbrella was slowly cooking, his bare back slowly turning raw from the merciless heat. A young woman massaged his feet while another worked his shoulders. Unlike their lord, they were all skin and bone.

“I am sure Her Supreme Majesty will be pleased with this year’s harvest. I hear all of the barons have been working their slaves especially hard. Hopefully, it will be enough to allow her to forget the unpleasantness that occurred last year,” said the baron’s guest.

Tall and wiry, Minister Trajin was the complete opposite of the Baron. He was the leader of the Western Imperium, only the Supreme herself was of a higher rank.

Hesselwit shifted uncomfortably under Trajin’s intense gaze. The man never seemed to blink; it was most discomforting.

“Yes well, the peasants paid a hefty price for that little incident. It took me six months to buy in enough new bodies to replace those I lost to the executioner's axe. Just to keep up with demand I have had to work over two dozen to death already this summer!” the baron whined.

Trajin sipped from his glass and raised a thin eyebrow at him.

“One would think you are unhappy with the Supreme’s order. Do you perhaps feel the punishment she commanded was too harsh?”

“No! Never!” Hesselwit sputtered.

A smile crossed Trajin’s lips, a menacing glint in his unblinking eyes.

“I hope not, for your sake. Her will is law. Tell me Hesselwit, do you know why I am here?”

Hesselwit looked into the bottom of his empty glass, unable to meet the Minister’s eyes. Annoyance flared within him. Angrily he snapped his fingers, summoning over a slave girl. He liked to keep the most attractive of his stock close to hand. On his instructions, the girl poured him another glass of juice and scooped out some ice from a nearby bucket.

“Such extravagance for such a middling baron. Importing ice from the mountains must cost a hefty sum,” Trajin noted, a hint of threat in his tone.

Despite the iced drink and the shade cast by the umbrella, Hesselwit began to sweat profusely.

“My business interests in the mines at Hestra provide me with ample income...” Hesselwit said hesitantly.

“Or, could it be that you have been selling slaves on the side,” Trajin interrupted coolly.

The Baron almost spat out his juice. He felt panic rising within him, how did the Minister know? Did one of those wretched slave masters inform on him?

An awkward silence descendant, Trajin continued to stare at the now profusely sweating baron.

“I jest of course,” he said breaking the quiet. “I am here to ensure that you continue to send your quota of slaves to the capital.”

Hesselwit almost cried out in relief but quickly thought better of it. The amused expression on Trajin's face suggested that the minister knew all about his little business on the side. No doubt he too sold his most attractive slaves to the pleasure palaces across the Imperium.

“The quota will be reached, Minister. I would never fail that most important of tasks. In fact, I have a wagon load ready to depart this evening.”

Sending a quota to the capital had been a practice amongst the ruling class for years. What the Supreme did with them, however, was something only the high priests of the Venerable Chamber knew. If he failed to meet demand, then men like the Minister would deliver swift retribution or worse, a Hollowed may pay him a visit.

Trajin smiled, but there was no happiness in it, his eyes were like those of a vicious predator, one just waiting for a man like Hesselwit to slip up.

“I am very glad to hear it. Well,' he said rising from the velvet cushioned couch, ' I must be off. I have a few more estates to visit today. Remember Hesselwit; the Supreme knows all. Farewell.”

Hesselwit slumped back into his chair and wiped his brow in relief as the Minister departed. Once Trajan was out of sight he snapped his fingers, summoning a slave.

“Go into the manor's wine cellar and bring me a bottle of the 34 vintage. After that, I need something stronger than poxy apple juice.”

The slave bowed deeply and hurried off towards the manor.

The Minister was just doing what he always did. The man liked to throw his weight around and reinforce just who was in charge of this part of the Imperium. Hesselwit smiled to himself, he would play the game just as his father had done and his grandfather before that. Despite the postulations of the Venerable Chamber's Chanters, the Supreme Imperium was anything but pure. Every baron was out for themselves. Slaves meant wealth and wealth meant influence in the Capital. Overall, he was satisfied with his performance at handling the minister.

‘Perhaps I shall celebrate tonight;’ he thought. The raven-haired beauty that acted as his wife's body slave would do, he'd had his eye on her for a while.

He looked out over the fields satisfied that the slaves were working hard. The taskmasters were pushing them to their limits, but such was their lot in life. They were the bottom of the heap, those least in the Supreme's favour. The men and women toiling away looked broken, centuries of oppression dwindling any fight within them. Hesselwit's eyes fell on an old man who was struggling to stay on his feet. The man was more like a skeleton, and his limbs were feeble. The baron sighed in exasperation as the man collapsed amongst the wheat.

“There goes another one,” he muttered.

Some of the other slaves looked up from their tasks before forlornly returning to work. To go the man's aid would only result in a whipping from the taskmasters. Servitude and obedience was their lot in life, just as the Supreme decreed -

His heart quickened as he spotted a tall, thin man wearing a suit and tie standing in the field. They looked at each other for a heartbeat, and to his stunned disbelief, the man had no eyes, just empty holes where they should have been.

“Who?” Hesselwit stammered. “Grimson, come over here,” He called over to one of the taskmasters. The burly shaven-headed brute jogged over to his lord.

“My lord?”

“Who is that over there...?” he trailed off. The strange man had disappeared. Had he been real? The sight of the eyeless figure had shaken him deeply. Where had the man gone?

“My lord?” Grimson asked.

“I... I must have been seeing things,” Hesselwit muttered. Troubled, he looked at the taskmaster who had a look of confusion etched on his scarred face.

“It's just the heat, yes the heat has gotten to me. Back to work with you.”

*

Vavius knew things should be different. His travels across the Supreme Imperium had taken him to places that even the Supreme’s omnipotent gaze could not reach. She thought herself invincible, Vavius would prove her wrong. It hadn’t always been this way; before her rise to power the world had been free, at least that's what the Mentors had told him. He pulled the hood of his cloak tighter about his head to hide his features. Even out here in the remote parts of the Western Imperium, he could not risk someone recognising his face. He had waited until dusk to make his move, the exhausted slaves who had been toiling in the fields were slowly drifting off toward their compound that lay at the edge of the estate. He crouched in the shadow cast by a tall oak tree and watched the manor house of the Baron Hesselwit.

It wasn’t long before the sun dipped below the horizon and lanterns were lit. He narrowed his eyes; only four guards were positioned at the entrance to the walled complex. Vavius smiled. Hesselwit’s reputation for arrogance and overconfidence was well founded it seemed. He pushed off into a sprint, the tall wheat providing cover. The wind whistled in his ears as he ran, his eyes fixed on the manor houses outer wall. He reached the wall without being spotted and eyed the top of the stone coping. Bending his knees, he channelled his emotions, a smile crossing his lips as he harnessed the power of Joy. He jumped, clearing the ten-foot-high wall in a single bound. Switching to Anger, he felt his body strengthen. Switching emotions on the fly was easy for him after so many years of practice. He landed in a crouch, his enhanced legs absorbing the impact of the fall.

Looking around, he saw that he was now in the manor’s main courtyard. He shook his head at the baron’s slack security. If the man knew that there was an Empowered One in the area, he would surely have garrisoned an army, or worse. Swiftly, he crossed the courtyard and ducked down a flight of stairs leading to the manor’s cellar. If all went according to plan, it should have been left open for him. Voices caused him to pause and duck into the shadows. Two armoured guards ambled by, completely oblivious to his presence.

Once they were gone, Vavius turned and tried the cellar door handle. He smiled. The latch was open. The slave he had bribed the previous night had done her job well. Carefully, he opened the door and slipped inside. The cellar was dark save for a single candle casting a flickering light. Barrels and racks of wine bottles filled the space. A flight of wide stone steps was at the far end of the room, and he made his way towards it. He kept low to the ground, keeping his footfalls light. Above him, he could hear guards patrolling. Tilting his head, he listened. Just one was in the corridor above him. He reached the bottom of the steps and ascended quickly. There was no door at the top of the stairs. Instead, there was an open archway that led into a wide carpeted corridor.

Vavius pressed himself tightly against the cold stone wall and peeked around the archway. He had been right, just one lone and bored looking guard was doing his rounds. The man was looking at a painting hanging on the wall. From his vantage spot, Vavius could see that the image was that of a beautiful brown-haired lady. ‘The Baroness no doubt,’ he thought.

Darting out from the archway, he crept up behind the distracted guard and with a sharp movement wrapped his strong arms around the oblivious man’s throat. A quiet popping noise sounded as his power enhanced limbs snapped the guard’s neck with ease. Maintaining his grip, he dragged the corpse to the archway and down into the dark depths of the cellar. Vavius blew out the candle to make it harder for any curious folks discovering the body. Once the grisly deed of hiding the corpse was done, he hurried back upstairs and down the corridor. Turning right, he headed towards the baron’s quarters. The time he had spent pretending to be a slave had proven invaluable; he knew the manor’s layout like the back of his hand. His back still ached from the sunburn he’d suffered holding the umbrella over the fat baron. The conversation between Hesselwit Minister Trajin had been interesting, but it had been of no benefit to him.

Encountering no more guards, he crossed a small inner courtyard that was dominated by a bubbling stone fountain. Lavender and other sweet-smelling flowers grew in borders around the courtyard’s edge adding to the splendour of the place. Anger flashed in Vavius, men like the Baron lived in luxury while countless others lived in misery and despair. He froze and listened. For a heartbeat, he thought that he’d heard soft footsteps behind him. He waited – nothing.

Quickly, he crossed the courtyard and entered the manor house’s living quarters. A red carpet lined the floors, and mahogany panels decorated the walls. A tapestry emblazoned with the Hesselwit crest hung from the wall, and small statues of previous Hesselwit barons stood on pedestals. The arrogance of the man was breath-taking. Vavius pressed on, finally reaching the baron’s quarters. To his surprise, the door was open. Cautiously, he crept forwards and pushed the door open with the tip of his boot.

Lying on the four-poster bed dominating the chamber was the baron, his throat slit and his eyes bulging in a death stare. Next to him was the Baroness, a deep cut across her delicate neck. The room stunk of blood. The bodies were a surprise, but the creature standing over them made Vavius recoil.

Tall and thin with a long narrow face and dressed all in a suit of black stood a Hollowed.

“You’ve finally arrived. We were beginning to grow impatient,” the Hollowed said in a deep emotionless voice. “Were you looking for this?” it added. In its hand was a scroll. At seeing it Vavius’s heart sank.

The tall and unnaturally thin figure turned from the bodies and looked at Vavius. Just like all Hollowed it had no eyes, just black holes where the organs had once been. Vavius tensed, no one had ever fought a Hollowed and lived. He turned, trying to flee, but another eyeless figure now barred the passage behind him. He'd been followed. There was no escape. He had failed.

***

Chapter 2.

Fork – Northern Imperium

The path wound its way through the woods like a river cutting its way through a canyon to the two teenagers walking down it. Both were covered in thick, black mud, a testament to their success in catching newts that lived in the river that ran through the heart of the woods. The boy, Elian, had blue eyes that appeared to be almost unnaturally bright against the thick black mud that caked his face.

“I cannot believe you pulled me in after you,” Elian said with a goofy grin. His mother would tan his hide for ruining another tunic.

“It was your fault for trying to play the hero as usual.”

As she spoke, Lizella laughed and shoved her friend into one of the hedges that grew along the side of the path. She giggled and ran off as Elian scrambled back onto his feet and set off in pursuit.

“I'll get you for that!”

The two ran through the woods, their laughter echoing among the tall trees. It was late summer in the Northern Imperium, and the leaves were beginning to turn a golden brown in preparation for autumn. The ground was already covered.

It was always an annoyance to Elian that Lizella was able to run faster than he could. Her long legs gave her the advantage. Both were fifteen years old, but already Lizella was a full head taller than himself.

They ran for what seemed like hours, and Elian's lungs began to ache. Suddenly, at the edge of a clearing, Lizella skidded to a halt and Elian, unable to slow down crashed into her back sending them both spilling to the leaf covered ground. They disentangled from one another and clambered to their feet. Elian gulped. Stood at the opposite side of the clearing were three older boys.

The biggest was Ruy, the son of the village blacksmith and with him was Grian and Sac. They were not as tall as their friend but were just as mean. Elian groaned. The boys had spotted him and Lizella. He took her hand ready to flee, but Grian darted to the side to cut off their escape.

“Well, look what we have here, a pair of piggies. So, freak what's it to be today? Another black eye, or, perhaps a broken bone?”

The older boys laughed at Ruy's mocking voice. Elian winced, the bruise on his chest from his last run-in with the bullies was still a livid purple. Then, they had beaten him and stolen the sweet roll his mother had made for him.

Lizella stepped forward, shielding Elian protectively. She held her head high, and her brown eyes stared defiantly at Ruy. 'Wish I was as brave as her' Elian thought, feeling a sense of pride in his friend. That pride, however, was quickly replaced with embarrassment. In their games he often played the role of a hero, in reality, it was the other way around.

“Hiding behind a girl huh, you little coward,” Ruy sneered.

“If you were so brave Ruy, why does it take the three of you to pick on Elian? I think it's because it is, in fact, you that is the coward,” Lizella replied her voice full of contempt.

Ruy's face flushed red with anger as his friends chuckled. Elian squeezed Lizella's hand in warning. It wasn't wise to antagonise Ruy. She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled reassuringly.

“Shut up. Sac, go move her out of the way,” Ruy commanded.

Sac was around the same height as Elian but almost twice as wide with small pig-like eyes. The fat boy strode over to Lizella, confident that he would have no trouble moving her. He reached out to grab her arm, but as he did so, she lashed out and gripped his hand. She bent and squeezed his fingers the way her grandfather had taught her. The boy cried out as she twisted Sac's fingers into a painful position. Tears formed in the boy's eyes as she forced him to his knees. His chubby face was red, and his whimpering was comical.

“Do you want me to let go?” Lizella asked sweetly.

Sac nodded his head frantically.

“Yes! It hurts!”

Ruy swore at his friend's weakness. Lizella let go of Sac's hand and shoved him onto the ground. She then glared at Ruy daring him to try something. For a heartbeat, Elian thought that Ruy would hit her, but Lizella's bravery was too much for the bully. With a look of disgust, Ruy helped Sac onto his feet.

“Fine, you win this time' Ruy said bitterly. He pointed at Elian. “Next time you won't have your girlfriend to protect you. Next time I'm going to break your face!” And with that, the boys turned and fled through the trees.

Once they were gone, Elian let out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks.”

“He's right you know. I won't always be around Elian. You need to learn to stand up for yourself; you’re too kind-hearted. Bullies like Ruy are everywhere, and if you're not careful, you could be hurt or worse.”

Before he could reply, Lizella took off through the undergrowth. He stood in the clearing for a few moments crestfallen. Did she think him a wimp? His hands knotted into fists. He would show her; he would prove that he was not afraid.

*

Elian made his way back to the village his thoughts focused on the events of the day. He no longer cared that he was sure to get a smack from his mother. Instead, his thoughts focused on what Lizella had said. Emerging from the woods, he crossed one of the fields surrounding the village of Fork. In the distance, the gleaming snow-capped Torvus Mountains towered over the valley, and the clear blue waters of Lake Josi shimmered. The village got its name from the way the Awth River forked around it. Elian crossed the narrow stone bridge that crossed the fast-flowing waters and headed toward his father's workshop.

Fork wasn't a rich village; it only had a dozen or so thatched cottages and a single tavern. Most of the villagers plied their trade as woodsmen and fishermen. Being at the edge of the Supreme Imperium the authorities paid it little interest. As long as the monthly quota of lumber and salted fish was met, the local Baron left them alone. Elian reached the village square that lay at its centre. He hurried by the marble statue of the Supreme that towered over the nearby buildings. As was the norm, the statue was that of a stunningly beautiful woman her arms spread wide to reinforce the fact that her reach was long. To vandalise the statue meant execution. After crossing the square, he rounded a corner to find his father, Helias, stood outside his workshop.

Elian's family were a rare thing outside the cities. Helias's skill as a carpenter meant that he had earned his freedom. The local baron, recognising his talent had allowed him to set up a workshop and even allowed him to earn a little money. Such a thing was virtually unheard of in the Imperium. Out of all the families living in Fork, Elian's and that of the local stonemason were the only ones granted serf status. To be a serf meant that you were the next rank up from slave. It allowed Helias to travel and sell his wares outside of the Northern Imperium, albeit at heavily taxed prices.

Piles of logs stood in rows outside, and the sound of hammering came from within. In his father's hand was a chisel, in front of him a half-finished piece of furniture.

At seeing Elian, he smiled.

“Oh boy. When your mother sees the state, you're in you are going to get it. Elian, are you alright?” Helias asked as he noticed the forlorn look on his son's face.

“Ruy threatened to beat me up again. Lizella stood up to him, but it's embarrassing. I want her to think I'm brave and that I can look after myself.”

Helias smiled and pulled Elian into a strong hug.

“Ruy is a lot bigger than you. If you want to beat someone who's bigger than you then you have to rely on other things besides strength,' he said tapping Elian's forehead with a finger, ‘you're a smart boy Elian. Use your head, and you can find a way to beat that bully and impress Lizella,” he added with a wink.

Elian blushed. He'd had a crush on Lizella ever since she arrived in the village. He remembered the first time he had seen her. She had been at the market her long blonde hair trailing down her back and her big brown eyes had been wide with worry. Her family had been sent by the ruling baron to make up the numbers in the village following a bout of plague that had killed off a quarter of the population. In the Imperium, it was extremely rare for the lower classes to move between settlements freely. At seeing her, his young heart almost skipped a beat. He had offered to show her around, and from that day they had been best friends. Lizella was no longer the frightened girl she had once been; now she was tough and confident. Elian's father often joked that she had more confidence than the Supreme. His mind raced as he digested his father's words. 'Use my head, that's it!' Elian thought. Helias chuckled at the expression on his son’s face.

“Uh-oh, looks like I've given you an idea. Listen, son,' he said bending so that he was at eye-level with Elian, 'being brave is about knowing when to act and when to let things go. I know Ruy and the other boys pick on you and that you feel like you need to stand up for yourself, but perhaps you should think about why people like that do the things they do.”

Elian looked at his father, confusion in his eyes.

“Ruy has had a hard life. His family are slaves, and so, like many, he takes his bitterness and frustration out on those around him. He is not as lucky as you Elian. When you come of age you will be free to carry on the family trade, or, you can strike out on your own. Ruy will never have that opportunity. Instead of being angry at him, try and relate to him.”

Elian pulled a face at the suggestion. Ruy had been mean to him for as long as he could remember. Could it truly be down to jealousy? Even so, that was no excuse to be so cruel and vindictive. The bruise on his chest throbbed with pain, a reminder that his father was wrong. He had to stand up to the bully. Otherwise, nothing would change, and Ruy would continue to think that he could pick on him.

“I have to stand up to him. Otherwise, he will just continue to pick on me. Perhaps if someone showed him that he shouldn’t treat people that way he will stop.”

Helias stood and placed his hands on his hips a look of respect in his eyes.

“A noble idea Elian. Perhaps you are right. Standing up against cruelty is something every man should aspire to. I just wish other men were like you; all men should be free...” Helias's eyes widened as he realised what he said. Elian gasped. Such words if heard by one of the Imperium's informers would be deemed as heresy, and the punishment for that was death.

“Forget I said that son,” Helias muttered. He glanced around wide-eyed and sighed in relief. They were alone. The nearest person was old Graf who was banging away in his workshop.

“Now be off with you, I suggest you get yourself cleaned up before your mother gets home,” he added. Elian could see the fear in his father's eyes. Despite all of his talk and pride of them being serfs, they were still slaves. Slaves to the fear of the Supreme.

*

Elian left his father and carried on down the dirt track that acted as the village's main street. His parent's cottage was on the opposite side, to get there he had to pass by the smithy. As usual, the blacksmith Trin was at his forge. The man was massive with arms the size of tree trunks. Just like his son, Trin had little respect for Elian and glared at him as he hurried passed.

Elian looked to the sky. The sun was beginning its descent in the west. He figured that it would be another hour before his mother returned from her duties at the baron's manor. Like his father, she was a serf and served as the baron's bookkeeper. The ability to read and write was incredibly rare amongst the lower classes, and so his mother was treated well for her services. Finally, he reached the little stone cottage. Ivy grew over the front of the house and wildflowers bloomed in the garden. It was small and cosy; it was home.

As he went through the front door, he began to peel off his filthy clothes. Once in his undergarments, he chucked them onto the pile already awaiting washing. He then went to his bedroom and took a fresh tunic from the cupboard. 'My face is still a mess!' he thought as he caught a glimpse of himself in the small oval mirror that hung above the fireplace. The cottage was comprised of a small living room, his bedroom, his parents' bedroom and a small kitchen area at the rear.

He noticed that the pile of logs was running low. He headed to the back of the cottage and went outside via the backdoor. A little stream trickled at the end of the garden where his father grew various fruits and vegetables. Picking up the bucket that was just outside the back door he went to the stream and filled it up with icy fresh water. The towering mountains that loomed over the valley provided the villagers with ample water. Ice traders often passed through the village as they made their way to and fro from the frigid peaks.

Once the bucket was filled, Elian took a deep breath and plunged his head into the icy water. He gasped as the cold hit him. Feeling refreshed he scrubbed his face clean. His mother would never know how filthy he'd been, he thought happily. After cleaning up, he then took the axe that lay next to the woodshed and set about chopping up some firewood. Gathering firewood from the forest was one of his jobs, as was collecting water from the stream and river. With his tasks completed his thoughts drifted back to Ruy. His eyes settled on his father's gardening shovel.

“That's it!” Elian cried as the idea struck him like a lightning bolt. He knew how to get some payback on the bullies.

*

Despite thinking that he would get away with it Elian's mother had been furious at the state of his clothes. As usual, Helias had tried to defend his son, but Dora would have none of it and had sent Elian to bed early with no supper. Lying in his bed, Elian could hear his parents talking in hushed tones in the living room.

“It's time that boy became a man. When are you going to start training him as your apprentice? He needs a trade, something to stop him from these childish games. I spend all day working for that pig of a baron, the last thing I need is to come home to him and his foolishness,” Dora complained.

She had always been a stern woman who had little patience for the tomfoolery of youth. Whereas the other boys had been allowed to play in the mud, she had forbidden Elian from doing so. She had a thing for cleanliness and despised dirt, which explained why the cottage was spotless.

“Are you ok my love?” Helias asked softly. Dora seemed more on edge than usual.

“The Baron was in a foul mood today. Word came from the capital that he would have to increase his quota. Apparently, there was an incident in the south, from the rumours it sounded as though an Empowered One was involved.”

At hearing the words, Elian slid out of bed and placed his ear against the door. Everyone had heard of the Empowered Ones; they were just myths, stories that old folks told children, but if that was true then why was his mother talking about them as though they were fact.

“You don't think it has something to do with...?” Helias asked, leaving the question unfinished.

“It can't be. We've been careful. No one can know,” Dora replied, her tone nervous.

“I'm sure your right. I'll make sure Elian comes to the workshop with me tomorrow. C'mon it’s late let's get to bed.”

Elian frowned, he could no longer hear his parents and the living room was plunged into darkness as they blew out the candles. He clambered back into bed and waited. He had to be sure that his parents were fast asleep before he set about enacting his plan.

An hour went by, and the house was silent. As quietly as he could, Elian got out of bed and tiptoed over to the bedroom door. He had got into bed with his clothes on to avoid making any noise getting dressed. Once again, he placed his ear against the wooden door and listened. Silence. Smiling, he carefully opened the door and crept through the cottage until he reached the back door. He took his cloak off the peg on the wall and lifted the latch, wincing at the squeak it made and went outside. The shovel was right where he had left it. He put on his cloak to protect him from the night's chill and picked up the shovel. He knew just the spot where he would set his trap. With a rush of excitement, he hurried towards the woods.

Chapter 3.

The woods were a scary place in the depths of night. The tall Aspen trees cast strange shadows and the night time wildlife gave it an almost alien feel. In the distance, an owl screeched. The temperature had dropped as Elian had worked, but he had barely noticed due to the exertion he had put into his master plan. For hours he had been digging the hole that he would use to get payback on Ruy. Most villagers were too afraid to enter the woods in the dark, but Elian was committed. He would prove that he was no coward.

With one last effort, he scooped out another pile of earth and added it to the growing mound beside the hole. Sweat dripped off his brow, and his clothes were damp with perspiration. Satisfied that it was deep enough he hauled himself out, his arms trembling from the night's labour. He lay on his back and looked at the sky above him. It was a clear night, and the stars shone like a sea of fireflies. The moon was high and casting an eerie glow on the slumbering world below. Elian felt at peace when looking upwards; it made him wonder what else was out there. Were there other worlds like his own? Was someone just like himself lying on their back and looking at the same points of light? He liked to think there was. He also wondered if their world was like his own. One ruled by a single person. A being that had lived for centuries and possessed powers that could enslave an entire race. Elian had heard the murmurings of the people before, but it had been a surprise to hear talk of freedom come from his own father's mouth. Helias was a man who obeyed and who had always done as he was told. Whenever the baron's men came to the village to demand more supplies or taxes, Helias always agreed and never showed resistance. And yet, he had spoken about freedom. Then, of course, there was the strange conversation Elian had heard before sneaking out. Perhaps his parents weren't as submissive as he'd once thought? The idea both excited and terrified him. There had always been whispers of a movement known as the Liberators, a group of escaped slaves that tried to fight the Supreme and her Imperium. The authorities did their best to suppress the rumours, but it had been hard for them to hide the mass escape of slaves that occurred the year before. Travelling pedlars had spread the tale far and wide, and most of those had in turn been hanged for doing so. Elian wondered if his mother's words about the rumours of an Empowered One was related to the rebels. His father would no doubt tell him to keep such thoughts to himself, and he would certainly do so. He wasn't an idiot. Informants were everywhere.

With a groan, Elian got to his feet. His legs were wobbly from exhaustion, and his eyes were droopy. He wasn't done yet, however, first, he had to dispose of the dirt pile and then cover up the hole. It was going to be a long night.

A rustling sound came from amongst the trees. He froze. Heart racing, he slowly peeked out over the rim of the hole. He almost cried out as he spotted a tall, cloaked figure moving quickly among the trees. Almost as quickly as it appeared, the figure disappeared amongst the undergrowth.

Elian held his breath.

‘Old Yin!’ he thought.

He waited a few minutes to make sure the figure had truly gone. Convinced that it had left, he went back to his task, a new sense of urgency to his digging.

*

Elian awoke with a start as his father nudged him with his boot. He was outside the cottage in the shed where Hellias kept his tools.

“And just why are you asleep outside my boy?” Helias asked his hands on his hips.

Elian groaned. The sun had risen in the east but judging by the light it was still very early in the morning. Helias always awoke before the sunrise to prepare for the day's labours. Bleary-eyed Elian sat up and coughed. His eyes were tacky with sleep, and his back ached from sleeping on the hard ground. Memories came back to him.

“I took your advice about Ruy,” he yawned.

Helias raised an eyebrow. From the dirt on his son's clothes and the shovel that lay next to him, he had a pretty good idea of what Elian had been up to. He sighed deeply.

“If your mother found you like this she would have had a fit. Heck, she still might.”

“Please father, don't tell her!”

Helias couldn't help but chuckle at his son's pathetic pleading. He rolled his eyes and offered Elian, a helping hand. The boy took it and got to his feet; he was exhausted.

“Fine. I'll say I got you up early to help me in the workshop. When she catches the cart to the baron's, you can go to sleep in your bed. Judging by the looks of you, you won't be much help to me.”

“Thank you!” Elian cried in relief.

“Just be careful son,” Helias said shaking his head.

An hour later and Dora had left for her job at the baron's estate. She'd not questioned his sorry looking state and simply put his tiredness down to the fact that Helias had awakened him at such a horrid hour of the morning.

Elian slept for most of the day but was woken up by a knocking on the cottage's front door. Bleary eyed he slipped on a clean tunic and shambled into the living room. He looked out the oval window and smiled. It was Lizella. Every time he saw her his heart beat quickened. He squinted as bright sunlight flooded the room when he opened the door. Lizella stood in the doorway with arms crossed and a frown on her pretty face.

“It's after mid-day Elian, you were supposed to help me get firewood an hour ago,” she said annoyed.

“Sorry, I had a busy night,” Elian replied sheepishly.

“Doing what? Never mind. C'mon let's go. If we don't get that wood, we will both be in trouble.”

Elian took one of the sacks resting next to the front door before the two teenagers hurried down the path and through the village to the woods. As they walked, Lizella began to sing a song, to Elian her voice was like that of an angel. Birds flitted about in the trees, and a red squirrel darted across the path. He always felt at peace in the woods, safe except for the odd occasion when he would encounter Ruy and the other bullies. Eventually, they reached a clearing that was used by one of the village’s lumberjacks. Often the woodsman would leave some logs and other wood for the children to collect. In the distance, they could hear the faint thudding of axes at work.

“So, why were you still asleep at such a late hour?” Lizella asked as she picked a wildflower and put it in her hair.

Elian yawned loudly before answering, “I took some advice. Next time we run into Ruy follow my lead.”

Lizella raised an eyebrow.

“Sounds mysterious. I hope you haven’t done anything daft.”

Elian flushed. He desperately wanted to tell her what he had spent the night doing but thought better of it. It would be a surprise if they ran into the bullies. He imagined her being impressed by his cleverness.

They walked deeper into the woods. It was humid amongst the trees and patches of mist lingered in parts. The place felt eerie bringing Elian memories of the strange encounter he’d had the night before.

“Do you think the stories about Old Yin are true?” he asked.

“Old Yin? The old hermit who kidnaps and eats children? I dunno. Thought he was a just tale told by the adults to keep us out of the woods after dark. Why do you ask?”

Elian looked over his shoulder; he swore he felt eyes watching them from the trees. He shivered.

“I…I think I might have seen him last night. It was only for a second, but I swear I saw someone moving through the trees,” he replied softly.

Lizella stopped. The look on her face was one that suggested she thought him mad.

“You’re not serious?” she said before bursting out laughing. “Oh, that’s a good one Elian, you almost had me going then.”

Elian folded his arms across his chest and frowned as he waited for her to finish laughing. Lizella wiped a tear from her eye, her body still trembling from the giggles.

“There’s no such thing as Yin; he’s just a myth. It’s just a story the old folk tell to scare children into behaving” she said finally.

“My dad says that there is often some truth to myths. I overheard my parents talking last night, and they mentioned an Empowered One. My mother said that one had been involved in some incident in the south,” Elian replied defensively. The mention of an Empowered One caught Lizella’s interest.

“But, you know whatever, I guess they are just tales too,” he added with a smirk.

Both of them spun around as they heard the sound of people running through the undergrowth. Before they could move, three figures burst out of a nearby hedge. Red-faced and breathing hard were Ruy and his cronies.

“See, told ya I saw them Ruy,” gasped Grian a cruel grin on his face.

Elian and Lizella backed away from the three boys.

Ruy stepped forward. In his hands was a wooden axe handle which he slapped against an open palm. Sac was at his side, a look of uncertainty in his eyes as he glared at Lizella.

“What did I say to you two last time? Oh yeah, next time I see you I’m gonna break your face. Well, I’ve got the tool for the job,” he said holding the axe handle menacingly before him.

Elian could see that Lizella was about to play the hero again and challenge Ruy. ‘No, it’s my turn, my chance to prove to her and myself that I am not a wimp’, he thought determinedly. To everyone’s surprise, he stepped forward to stand protectively in front of Lizella.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

Not taking his eyes from the three bullies he replied; “Trust me, I know what I’m doing. Just follow my lead.”

Ruy took another step closer and chuckled.

“Look, lads; it finally looks like the wuss has grown a pair. Won’t do him much good when I smash his face in, though.”

Ruy and the other boys approached. Elian looked around, desperately trying to get his bearings. He almost shouted out in joy as he recognised the fork in the woodland path. They were close. Lizella cried out as he grabbed her hand and took off in a run, pulling her after him.

Ruy laughed.

“Looks like we got us a hunt boys!” he whooped.

Elian and Lizella ran through the undergrowth, twigs and brambles snatching at their clothing as they went. The bullies were close behind and shouting taunts as they pursued. After a short distance, Elian changed direction, and they emerged into the clearing he had chosen to set his trap. They had gained some ground over Ruy, but it would only be seconds before he caught up with them.

“Go over there, in front of the tree,” commanded Elian. Lizella nodded and did what she was told. She seemed more curious than frightened. Elian wished he could be so calm. His heart was racing a mile a minute; he just hoped his plan would work.

Ruy and the others burst into the clearing. Sac was breathing hard, Elian was surprised the big lad had been able to keep up with his taller and skinnier friends.

“I’m almost disappointed. Is that it? Not much of a hunt,” Ruy complained causing his mates to laugh.

‘C’mon you bastard’ Elian thought.

Ruy stalked toward his prey, his comrades at his side. Elian began to retreat. They took a few more paces before Elian suddenly dived to the side to land in a pile of leaves. The unexpected move caused Ruy to freeze.

“What are you doing idiot. Stay still and take your beating like a man.”

Elian looked up and smiled.

“Don’t look down,” he said.

The looks of confusion on the bullies’ faces was priceless. The sound of breaking twigs was better. He had led them into his trap perfectly. With a loud snap, the ground beneath the bullies collapsed sending them tumbling into the hole that he’d dug. Cries and shouts of surprise were quickly followed by a cacophony of swear words. Cautiously, Elian clambered back onto his feet and hurried over to the edge of the hole. The three boys lay in a tangled heap. Elian couldn’t help but laugh.

“Got you! You may be bigger than me Ruy, but you’re not smarter. You ran straight into my trap,” he taunted. Lizella walked over to stand at his side and laughed. Ruy struggled free from his friends and stood up. He jumped trying to grab the side, but his fingers couldn’t quite reach the edge. He swore loudly. His face flushed red with anger.

Elian began to pace along the edge of the hole.

“I could let you out, but I will do so only if you promise to leave Lizella and me alone for good.”

Ruy’s hands knotted into fists.

“No freak. I’ll get out of here and when I do you’re dead. The girl too,” he snarled.

Lizella picked up a small stone and threw it at Ruy. It struck him right between the eyes to send him falling back onto his stunned arse.

“Make all the threats you want Ruy. Elian’s beaten you. Know when to quit,” Lizella said.

Ruy rubbed his nose; his hand came away bloody from a small cut caused by the stone. His rage increased at the sight. Without a word he grabbed Sac and slammed him against the side of the pit. The fat lad cried out in protest, but Ruy silenced him with a punch to the gut.

“Shut up and stand there. I’m getting out of here, and I’m gonna kill them!” he bellowed. With that, he forced Sac onto knees and climbed onto his shoulders. The extra height was what he needed to reach the edge of the hole. Grabbing the grass at the top, Ruy began to haul himself up.

Elian stood dumbfounded. That wasn’t supposed to happen!

Panic filled him as Ruy crawled out of the pit and staggered to his feet. The stunned Elian was too slow to react, and the bully gripped him by the back of his tunic. Lizella screamed for him to run. Too late. Elian gasped as Ruy’s fist connected solidly with his back. Pain shot through him sending him to the ground. Lizella rushed to help him, but Ruy shoved her backwards. She tripped on a tree branch and crashed to the ground winded.

A rain of blows struck Elian’s body forcing him to curl into the pain. He could feel blood oozing from his nose from where Ruy’s fist had struck it. Blow after blow hit him until Ruy stepped back panting from exertion.

“If you think I’m going to let you off with just a beating you’re mistaken,” he growled. Ruy staggered back to the edge of the hole.

“Pass me the axe handle Grian,” Ruy commanded.

Grian left the side of the crying Sac and picked up the handle. Fear was in his eyes.

“Calm down Ruy. Don’t you think the freaks had enough?” Grian said, his voice trembling.

Ruy glared at his friend.

“I’ll say when the little freak has had enough. Now pass me the bloody handle or else I’ll beat you too,” he growled. Grian cowered and tossed him the axe handle. Once again Ruy slapped the handle against his palm. He stalked toward Elian who was curled up in a ball on the ground, blood dripping from his broken nose and the cut on his cheek. Lizella stood; she looked dazed from where her head had hit the ground.

“Now then, let’s smash that face of yours.”

Elian moaned. He tried to stand, but pain stabbed him like a knife to the chest.

“Please Ruy…” he pleaded.

Ruy smiled and raised the axe handle ready to strike. Just as he was about to bring the heavy wood down on Elian's head, Lizella stepped forward. The handle struck her across the face, knocking her to the side and back onto the ground with a thud.

“Lizella!” Elian cried. Ruy stared at her unmoving body in horror.

At seeing it, a rage surged through Elian. It was an Anger he had never felt before. It flooded into his veins. All of the pain vanished, and strength burst into his limbs. Without thinking, he jumped to his feet, darted forward and grabbed Ruy by the throat. To both of the boy’s surprise, Elian lifted Ruy off of his feet and high into the air, the bigger boy felt as light as a feather. The power was intoxicating.

The surprise Elian felt was quickly replaced with anger as he looked at the unmoving Lizella. With a roar, he threw Ruy right across the clearing, over the hole and crashed into a hedge. A sickening snap sounded where Ruy’s arm shattered from the power of the impact.

Elian advanced, his fury felt unquenchable as though he were possessed. The other boys were screaming in fright as he reached down into the hole and lifted them both out, one in each hand. With a roar, he threw Sac high into the air and batted Grian across the clearing with a single blow. Sac crashed into a pile of dead leaves that cushioned his fall and Grian landed in a hedge of brambles.

Their screams for help rang out through the woods. Elian was out of control. He could feel it. The rage was like a storm in his chest, one that he could not calm. A part of him was screaming in terror while another was relishing the feeling of boundless strength. He was no weakling after all.

He spun as the undergrowth burst apart. Standing at the edge of the clearing was a figure wearing a long yellow cloak, their features hidden in shadow. The figure took in the scene before them. Their gaze flitted between the unmoving girl and the three petrified boys that were cowering before the rage possessed lad before them.

“Run.” The figure said.

Ruy and the other boys didn’t need to be told twice. They fled through the trees. Elian snarled at the mysterious stranger. The stranger let Ruy go; he let the thugs who had hurt Lizella flee! How dare he?

Elian roared in rage and charged at the figure. The cloaked man held his ground, easily parrying the punches aimed at his torso. Elian swung another punch but this time his fist connected with the man’s open palm. The man held his ground, but his legs trembled from stopping the supernaturally strong blow. Suddenly, the man stepped forward and placed his palm on Elian’s forehead.

“Peace,” The figure said softly. A serene calm flooded through Elian. He felt drowsy. The world went black.

***

Chapter 4.

Elian stirred from his slumber; he felt as though he had been asleep for a thousand years and every fibre of his being felt relaxed and peaceful. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Peering over him with concern etched onto her beautiful face was Lizella, even the bandage wrapped tightly around her head did little to dampen her looks, at least to Elian.

“He's waking up,” Lizella said.

Blinking, Elian could feel some of his senses returning. A sharp pain lanced in his side causing him to gasp and throbbing aches emanated from his face and torso. Tears formed in his eyes but he forced them back. He would not cry in front of Lizella; he would be brave. He tried to focus through the pain and took in his surroundings.

He was lying on a bed in what appeared to be a small log cabin. A fire blazed in the little fireplace at the far end of the room making the place unbearably hot. The walls were free of decorations save for a piece of cloth that hung from a nail above the door. Lizella was sat on a rickety looking stool, a worn brown shawl draped over her shoulders.

Just as Elian was about to ask her who she was talking to the door opened and in walked an old man. A tuft of white hair topped the man's head, and a thick white beard covered much of his face. Thick bushy eyebrows were offset by a pair of dark green eyes and a large nose. Of his appearance, the man wore a simple linen shirt, trousers and a pair of worn old leather boots.

He walked over to Elian and placed a cold palm on his forehead. A scowl was on his face, a look of uncertainty and wariness in his eyes.

“Good, it seems to have passed,” the man muttered. “It's dark out; you two can stay here until morning. I fear that after the events of today the woods will not be safe this night.”

Without another word, the man swept out of the room and closed the door behind him. Elian raised an eyebrow as he sat. The sheets were itchy.

“Who is that?” he asked.

Lizella was watching the door as though the old man would return at any moment.

“It's Old Yin. The stories are true. He saved us from Ruy and the others,” she replied a hint of excitement in her voice.

Elian gulped. Memories came back to him. The old man hadn't saved them; he'd saved Ruy and his friends from him. Lizella had been knocked out by the axe handle; she hadn't seen what he had done, what he had almost done. His hands began to shake as the sensation of losing all control flooded back to him.

“Are you ok?” Lizella asked worriedly. She reached over and took his hands in her own and squeezed them tightly.

Elian looked at her hands on his before looking into her eyes. Shame filled him. His foolish plan had backfired spectacularly and they'd both gotten hurt as a result. As well as shame he felt fear. What had happened to him? Where had that unnatural strength come from? He looked at the door, Old Yin knew something, and he had known how to stop him.

“Just a bit shook up. I'm so sorry Lizella. I thought I'd been clever, that I had put Ruy in his place. It's my fault you were hurt, I...”

She shushed him by placing a finger to his lips. To his surprise, she was smiling.

“It was a good plan; just next time dig the hole a little deeper. Yin said I have a minor concussion, I'll have a nasty lump on the back of my skull, but aside from that, I am fine. You're the one who took a beating.”

Elian looked away unable to meet her kind eyes. If she had seen what he had done to Ruy and the others, would she be looking at him with such kindness? Or, would she be afraid of him as he was of himself?

Lizella yawned.

“Sorry, it’s been a long day. Our parents are going to be so worried about us, but I think we should do what Yin says and stay here until morning. I don't know what he meant about the woods being dangerous this night, but I get the sense that he knows what he's talking about. Perhaps he spotted a wolf pack or something?” she said tiredly.

Elian threw back the itchy covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He winced as his bruises made their presence felt.

“Take the bed. I feel like I've slept for a hundred years. I'll keep watch.”

Lizella offered little in the way of an argument and readily agreed. Elian watched her climb into the bed, and as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was snoring softly.

“I'm sorry” he whispered before heading to the door.

As quietly as he could, he opened the door and peeked into the next room. It was larger than the bedroom, and it too had a simple fireplace built into the back wall. An old table was in the centre of the room and at its side stood two comfy looking armchairs, one of which was occupied by the mysterious Yin.

“Come here, my lad. I think we have much to discuss,”

Elian jumped as the old man spoke. He obviously had no difficulty with his hearing. Nervously Elian approached. The old man picked up a pipe from the table next to him and began to top it up with some tobacco. Elian recognised it as a Sindin Cavendish; it was the same make his father often used. Next, Yin leant forward and touched a taper into the fire and then lit the pipe. A spicy aroma began to feel the room as he took a few puffs. To Elian's surprise, Yin offered him the pipe.

“Er... no thanks. I tried it once, and it hurt my throat a bit,” he declined.

Yin raised his thick bushy eyebrows in amusement.

“Young un's these days never seem to want to try anything new,” he chuckled. He took a few more puffs and sighed as he settled back into his chair.

“Although..., I gather that what you did today was new to you. Tell me, lad, have you ever done it before?”

Elian shook his head.

“Interesting. Very interesting indeed and worrying.”

“Why worrying? I don't like the sound of that.”

Yin regarded the boy for a moment before tapping his pipe on a small ceramic ashtray.

“What you tapped into today was the Power. Do you know what that is?”

Elian had heard the stories; the Venerable Chamber's priests often spoke of it. It was the source of the Supremes’ power they said.

“The Power is what the Supreme is master of. How could I have tapped into it? Only she can do that...” he replied, confusion evident in his voice.

Yin snorted and spat into the fire in disgust.

“No boy, that's just what they want you and everyone else to think. The Supreme wields it most certainly, but it is not exclusive to her. There are others out there in the world that can tap into it. You did today. In fact, you did with such force that your Emergence was as loud as a thunderclap.”

Elian looked into the fire and then at his hands. He didn't believe the strange old hermit and yet- he had felt something. He had felt powerful.

“What’s an Emergence?” he asked.

Yin sighed and stretched his back. He grunted as it clicked.

“Emergence is the term used to describe when someone Gifted comes into their abilities. Often it comes at a time of extreme emotional distress. In your case, seeing your friend hurt triggered such anger that it was enough to awaken the Power inside you. Emotion is key to the Power. Your anger gave you supernatural strength; other emotions grant their own abilities. It is sad that it was anger that was the trigger, it can lead to an unstable progression; perhaps, even a Break.”

Elian looked into the fire his mind racing.

“Before you ask, a Break is when you lose your mind. Many a Gifted has fallen victim to one, but Empowered Ones are most vulnerable to it. Harnessing and switching emotions on the fly is not a very easy thing to do after all.”

Yin gestured to one of the armchairs that stood close to the fireplace. Elian hesitated for a moment before sitting down.

“What do you know about Empowered Ones?” Yin asked. He tapped his pipe, emptying ash into the clay ashtray next to him. He regarded Elian with raised eyebrows, curious to know what the strange lad knew.

Elian shook his head, “Only the stories that my parents sometimes told. I know they weren’t supposed to tell them, they always warned me never to repeat them to anyone else.”

“Stories and myths are all they are these days it seems. It’s a crime just to utter a word about them,” Yin grumbled. Picking up a pouch of tobacco, he set about lighting his pipe. Elian watched the old man in fascination. Yin took a few puffs from the smoking pipe and sighed contentedly.

“Sit back lad and let me tell you the story of who we are and how we were betrayed by the ones we trusted most.”

***

Chapter 5.

Yin placed another log into the fire causing the flames to flare a brighter yellow as it consumed the new source of fuel. With a stretch, the old man sat back down in his worn armchair and stared into the flickering light. Elian leant forward in his seat eager to hear a tale of the Empowered Ones. He’d always loved such stories, especially the ones forbidden by the Supreme’s decree.

“A long time ago, our people were nomads wandering the land. We had no interest in farming or science. Our ancestors were one with nature and lived long happy lives. Humans and the other races got along, each choosing to not interfere with the others. That all changed when a tribe of nomads stumbled across something they could not explain. According to the old texts, now forbidden, of course, the tribe had found what they described as a tear in the fabric of reality. Two men stood outside the tear, their clothes different to those of the tribe. Fearful of the strange men the tribe attacked them only to be thwarted by powers they could not explain. The two men could control the elements; fire erupted from the palm of one and lightning from the other. Cowed by this display the tribe submitted to the men who identified themselves as Wizards of the Golden Empire.”

Elian sat back in his seat his mind racing. Just imagining such beings had set his imagination racing.

“What’s a wizard?” he asked dumbly.

Yin cackled at the question.

“After many months the Wizards learnt the tribe's language and were able to communicate. What they said changed everything. They claimed to be from another world and wielded a power that they called Magic. Using this power, they had discovered a way to travel between worlds and had arrived in ours. They eased the tribe's concerns and told them they came in peace. All they wanted was to learn about our world and perhaps aid the tribe. Needless to say, as the years went by more and more of the Wizards arrived and taught the tribe the ways of civilisation.

‘A close bond formed between the Wizards and the people to the extent that some of them took our men and women as their spouses. They were curious as to why the people of this world could not use Magic like they could and so experimented. It was when the first offspring of these unions were born that they learnt that they had created a new power. Unlike their abilities, this power manifested itself through emotions, and soon their children were granted the name ‘Gifted’. These Gifted, were only able to harness the powers of a single emotion. However, a rare few were capable of harnessing all. These very special people were named Empowered Ones. Then, one day, without any explanation the Wizards vanished. As the years went by the tribe became a kingdom, and before long the other tribes followed suit. Civilisation had arrived, and without the Wizards guidance conflict erupted as each kingdom used their Gifted and Empowered Ones as weapons against the others.”

Elian looked at Yin.

“So Gifted people are the descendants of these Wizards?”

“Yes. Although, it is a lot more complicated than that. Anyway, where was I?” Yin answered irritably. He never liked having his stories interrupted.

“Ah yes, the wars. When the world of man looked set on destroying itself, the Wizards returned. With them, they brought a chest made of gold and told the King of Aeranyth to keep it safe and defended. They explained that conflict had come to their own world and that soon their Golden Empire would fall. The object in the chest was one of immense power, one that could not be allowed to fall into the hands of their enemies. As quickly as they had returned they vanished once more leaving more questions than answers. The King assigned a group of Empowered Ones to safeguard the chest, but one amongst them was ambitious. A young woman yearned to learn the secrets of the Wizards, and so she betrayed the others and stole the power for herself. Using the object, she obtained eternal life and power that was nigh invincible; no one could match her strength. One by one the kingdoms fell until finally, only the great Kingdom of Aeranyth remained. She corrupted other Empowered Ones to her will, and together they destroyed Aeranyth utterly, scattering the survivors to the four winds. Today, those once verdant lands are now a barren wasteland. With the kingdom eradicated the newly self-proclaimed Supreme set about hunting down all those born with the Gift. Her hunters have done their jobs well so that now after three hundred years nearly all of the Gifted are either dead or now serve her will.”

“What was the object?” Elian said his tone full of wonder.

“Nobody knows for sure except the Supreme. She has hidden any information about it well. There are rumours, legends that sort of thing but nothing concrete.”

“You have the Power as well, right?” Elian asked looking at the old man.

A thin smile touched Yin’s lips.

“I do. My area of expertise is Positivity. By tapping that emotion, I have the ability to alter people’s emotions. I can calm folks, even send them to sleep as I did with you. I am what is known as a ‘Gifted’; I can harness one emotion with the Power but no more. Some Gifted can use two but not many. An Empowered One, on the other hand, can harness them all. They are extremely rare. I wonder...” Yin said as he stroked his chin. He looked at Elian with renewed interest.

“What?”

“Close your eyes and think of the happiest moment in your life. Concentrate.” Yin urged.

Elian did as he was told and closed his eyes. His thoughts went back to his tenth birthday. It had been a hot summer’s day, and his mother had arranged a birthday party for him. Everyone in the village had attended including the new family that had moved there from the south. He remembered when he had first set eyes on Lizella. She had smiled at him, and even though he had never spoken to her, he felt such joy that he almost felt his chest burst with happiness. Thinking of her always made him happy. A tingling sensation spread through his body.

Yin gasped. Elian opened his eyes, confused. The old man rose from his chair and walked over to a small chest of drawers. Opening it, he took out a small mirror and held it in front of Elian’s face.

“Woah!” Elian cried.

All of the bruising that had covered his face, the fat lip, the broken nose, all were gone. Tentatively he touched his chest. There was no pain. He lifted his tunic; his chest was free of bruises.

Yin stepped back his eyes wide in awe.

“You…you’re an Empowered One.”

Suddenly a look of fear crossed his face.

“You must leave here; they will have surely heard the Emergence as I did. She will have heard it,” he stammered.

Elian stood up, panic filling him.

“What do you mean?”

“The Supreme will have sensed your Emergence. The strength of it, I should have known. She cannot allow any Empowered Ones to live Elian; she will send her servants to find…and kill you. I fear you are in terrible danger.”

Yin hurried into the bedroom and began to rifle through the wardrobe. Lizella awoke with a start at the noise he was making.

“What’s going on?” she asked bleary-eyed.

Yin pulled out two moth-eaten travel cloaks from the wardrobe and chucked them at Elian and Lizella. Both were far too big for them.

“We must leave here. I fear it may already be too late,” Yin explained as he hurried back into the living room and began to raid his larder. He took a cloth sack off the peg on the wall and began to fill it with food. A few cans of beans, bread and a few jars were all put into it.

“What about our families!” Elian asked. “We can’t just run away without telling them.”

Yin stopped for a moment and sighed deeply.

“It is better that they do not know anything. Do you not understand boy? You, and now your family are in terrible danger.”

“We have to warn them then,” Elian argued. Lizella watched them both as though they were mad.

“Will someone please tell what is going on?” she demanded with a shout.

Yin threw a warning look at Elian, a look that told him to keep his mouth shut. Elian understood. To tell Lizella would also put her in danger.

“We have to leave. Yin thinks that we are in danger.”

Lizella crossed her arms.

“A moment ago, you said we should stay here. That it was too dangerous to leave, now you’re saying it’s dangerous to stay? Elian what are you not telling me?”

Just as Elian was about to reply, a bell began to toll frantically in the night. It was the village’s warning bell. Even in the woods, the sound could be heard; it was only normally used to warn the woodsmen that a dangerous beast had been spotted in the area. This time, however, Elian knew it heralded something far worse than a wolf pack or bear.

***

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- Other Books By M.S. OLNEY
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