A bronze skinned lad with thick curly black hair and eyes that reflected the ocean were his defining features. Not too uncommon, yet he was easily spotted in a crowd, always. Even in the shadows one could feel he was there. Indeed, it was none other than Matsya Fartford of one and half years prior. His skills comprised nailing wooden planks quite well, hand fishing, swooning older women, and drinking his fill of milk. By his side was an ornate fishing rod that was more suited for a hall piece than an actual fishing instrument.

  On this fine evening the sun’s radiance hypnotized Matsya in standing his ground, enjoying the peace of quiet birds and calm waves. With a glass of milk that made his hand numb, Matsya peered out to the endless horizon.

  “Matsya…” A woman called out.

  “Ugh, not again. Hey, can’t ya leave me be for just a day?” Matsya stared at the shadows coiling about. Always surrounded, never alone, to an orphan such as he, that may be considered pleasant. However, in Matsya's daily life, it was rather cumbersome.

  “Matsya…” She whispered once more.

  “How much longer will I have to continue listening to this?” Matsya asked himself.

  Soaking up the morning rays, Matsya took to school. The path was less narrow than a corn field, but rather walled to where light had to be artificial. Matsya after a long enough time found his own little passageway to school. He couldn’t call it a shortcut, for the path was less than ideal in the realms of being short. In the starkness of flickering light cluttered with moths, three boys stood in his way.

  “Hah, seriously…” Matsya whined.

  “Fork it up!” The boy in the center demanded.

  “Fork what? Hey, I’m just warning you…”

  “You think we’re scared of you, little fisher boy?”

  “No, but you might be scared of her,” Matsya pointed to a bubbling black mass, like murky water, it devoured two of the boys. The one in the center didn’t have time to scream, for that too was absorbed by the gluttonous she.

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  “I warned them…didn’t I?”

  Nine hours later:

  “You are hereby sentenced to walk the bridge,” a white cloaked man told Matsya.

  Blindfolded in a room of swirling fire, Matsya sat on wet carpet, somehow keeping him from burning up.

  “I shall be your sentencer, my name is Dushyanta.”

  “Nice to meet you, but I surely suggest not getting too close to me…”

  “Worry not,” Dushyanta performed five hand seals that separated the space between him and Matsya. “I can manipulate the tangible, your curse will have no effect. Especially in Elysion’s tunnel.”

  “I don’t really get it…”

  “That is perfectly reasonable… Here, ah, Father, if you don’t mind…”

  The Priest bowed obediently, quietly leaving through the flames.

  “So what’s going to happen to me?”

  “It all depends on if you want to live or not. Do you?”

  “I’m not too sure.”

  “Hmm, well as it stands I can only give you two options. Become one of the Core, or get executed. I recommend the Core by the way,” Dushyanta said with a deep smile.

  “I suppose I’ll join the Core then…”

  “Excellent!”

  Two months later:

  “You seem to be getting the hang of it,” Monaha, a black faced winged humanoid, steel arms, and a black eye resembling a serpent's on the back of his neck, said.

  “You think? It’s harder than I thought,” Matsya said. Scuffed and muddy, bruised and sweaty, he pulled water from the air. Spheres floated around him in wobbly rotation.

  “It’s more than impressive, I think we’re ready for our first mission. An evil spirit sits below one of the docks. I was originally assigned, but if I felt like you wouldn’t be a burden, then I was allowed to bring you along.”

  “Thanks…”

  “Well you are a special case…I’ve never met anyone other than the current Lords to possess such a high affinity with a pillar as much as you. Some say it's genetic to possess such strength, however I won’t let that diminish how hard you’ve been working.”

  “Ya-ya,” Matsya couldn’t help but smile. In the two months he has been staying at the temple, he has grown comfortable within the surreal environment.

  “Well, sounds like a plan, we’ll leave in the evening,” Monaha clapped.