After Gray felt nothing at the Dice Markets, they left Pit City.

  It was a sad walk back to Ruin Manor.

  The pit was pretty, with all of the candles floating on the black water, but Gray couldn’t enjoy the beauty. He kept thinking of the kiss, of Settie’s sorrow, and how his core was flawed. Yes, it was massive, but it was hard to fill.

  Weeks passed at Ruin Manor, or that was what Gray called it. He couldn’t really believe he’d found such a home, and from what he saw, he had the best room, the master suite, which had a view of the Hellbinder. There were eight rooms in all, one up in the attic, five on the second floor, and two on the first floor. Settie lived in the attic. She faced the Weeping Well, which Gray still hadn’t seen.

  He got a good working knowledge of the benefits and drawbacks of the house. They needed to fix the roof, that was clear. He also needed new glass for his window, but that could wait. It was only going to get hotter, since the rainy season was over. Even without rain, their water situation was good—there was a well outside the kitchen down an alley in a courtyard between the houses. The stone planters grew weeds, but Gray could easily see flowers blooming there at some point. The courtyard was inside the warding, as was a little area where they could bathe. The wood situation wasn’t great, which was why Settie had burned furniture at first but she soon bought lust rocks, which were similar to coal. Heating water for his bath became one of Gray’s favorite parts of living in the strange place.

  Oddly enough, he got used to living in demon-haunted Old Town rather quickly. He was a little surprised that the demons came in all shapes and sizes. One morning, he watched Yellow race out of the house to snap up a bright blue rat, shake it until its spine broke, and then ate it with great relish. Another day, Yellow found a place to hide in the kitchen while a herd of strange deer-like animals thundered past, their hooves clacking on the street.

  Despite the random demons haunting the deserted streets, he fell into a very rigid routine. At first light, he would wake up and start his morning meditations after a bite of ironbite and charbrew. He would sit in the courtyard on a stone bench, and focus on his breathing. Inhaling, and exhaling, focusing on the seven instincts. In and out, he would let thoughts go and relax every part of him to focus on his core.

  Settie didn’t talk about his lack of resonance, and she never mentioned the kiss. She told him that it was possible, if difficult, to refill his core with his will alone. Around him was all the mana he would ever need. As long as he continued to use the ironbites to soften his core, he would be able to replenish his mana. She kept the discussions of his handicap casual, but Gray knew that she had her doubts about him.

  Gray didn’t share in her pessimism. He had a heart, a core, and a body he could strength through exercise. It felt like there was nothing he couldn’t do.

  After meditation, he would eat a small breakfast, and then, then they would go on their long runs with Yellow trailing after them, as long as they didn’t run toward the Weeping Well. Yellow loved them, but he wasn’t going to risk his life. They ran through the neighborhoods closest to the Hellbinder, and soon they were running two hours at a time.

  Settie was tireless, keeping ahead of him, always ready to fight in a moment’s notice. Luckily, they didn’t encounter any more Pride Serpents.

  After the run, there was more mediation, followed lunch. In the afternoon, he would go through his forms, do his strength exercises, and then he would get a half an hour to do whatever he wanted. He would generally sleep. After another short un, he and Settie would spar. She used her crystal skull cane. He eventually graduated from his tick to the smallest of the iron short swords, its edge dulled. It could’ve been razor sharp because he never even came close to striking her. She seemed everywhere at once, blocking his every blow, before smacking him with her cane.

  After sparring, it was dinner and then more mediation. In the evening, Settie would disappear up to her room, and Gray was free again. Most of the time, he would go and sit out on the street, petting Yellow, and enjoying the evening calls of the normal birds that lived there. There was a nest in the tree across the street, and he watched as the brown-feathered parents brought the fluffy yellow chicks their food.

  He went to sleep exhausted, with Yellow curled up at the foot of his bed. Every day his room got a little hotter, but he was too tired to care. Waking up, the cool morning air was welcome, and then he started his day all over again.

  He didn’t complain, and neither did Settie. Everything thrilled Yellow, especially the food he didn’t have to chase down himself.

  Spring was passing slowly. In the summer, things would change, he knew from the little Settie told him, but it seemed the days were being stretched by the heat and work. He liked the short, blistering runs in the afternoon, when Yellow would stay in the shade, eyes squinted and his tail wagging lazily. He figured the dog thought the human and dragon were crazy for going out into the relentless sunshine. Maybe they were.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  The air was so dry! Gray missed the warm, wet ocean air of Cradleport. That was probably the reason why he found himself back in the place of water and stars as the summer solstice approached.

  Above him, all those stars looked like milk spilled across the inky darkness. Below him, the black water didn’t reflect the starlight, and so, he was caught between the light and darkness. The only thing he could see was the shack, on the little island. He started to walk there, the water lapping at his ankles.

  It was strange, reaching down, he pushed his fingers through the water, expecting to feel sand or dirt or stone, but no, there was nothing but water under him. He shouldn’t have sank into the depths of the nameless ocean, but he didn’t.

  “Are you weary of miracles yet, Grayson Fade?”

  “You’re back!” Gray laughed. “I’m so glad. You know, when things were the hardest, I thought of you, this place, that shack.”

  He sniffed the air, and yes, he smelled the breakfast smells filling the air, charbrew and frycake, bacon and eggs. His dream stomach gurgled a bit.

  “You need to eat more, my little dreamer.” She laughed, only it was more of a giggle. Then she sighed. “And you didn’t believe there was magic in the world. You thought it was all just swords and schemes. On, my little dreamer, never cage yourself by thinking small. Use your mind to expand yourself until you are every horizon.”

  He smiled. “My horizons have become very vast recently.”

  “As they should. You are special, unique in ways you may not ever understand. Never has there been anyone like you. From birth, dreamy Grayson, you were given such blessings and as many curses. But that’s everyone, isn’t it?”

  “Even you?”

  “No, Grayson, not me. But I am weary of considering who and what I am. I want to talk about you. I want to celebrate you!”

  Gray stopped, and the water swirled around his feet, as the stars swirled in the heavens. For a moment, he felt the universe moving around him, as if he were the center. He touched his belly, where his core radiated with that strange yellow light.

  “What do we have to celebrate, Oma?”

  “Your magic! Your life! Your journey! It’s just beginning but look at how far you’ve come! You no longer practice with the stick. You wield a sword, my little dreamer. A sword! Could the Grayson Fade from Cradleport even done one single form with the weight of that iron?”

  “You’ve been watching me again.” Gray laughed at the blush. “So you saw me the other night. You saw the kiss.”

  “I watch, I wait, I celebrate your every breath. I love that you think of this place, you think of me, and it gives you strength. That makes me so happy, my little dreamer.”

  Gray started walking again. “What can you tell me about my core? Settie is worried about it, and I have to admit, I am too. I love that I have so much energy and I’m getting so much stronger. I guess I’m supposed to join some kind of kill squad after something called the Testing. I don’t know, and Settie won’t tell me.”

  Oma’s laughter echoed across the water as the sky seemed to get milkier. “Do you really not know what you’re training for? Then why do you work so hard, day after day?”

  “Because I’ve spent my entire life watching, and I don’t need to watch any more. I have everything an Arena servant could ever want—a strong heart, muscles, bones, and miraculous magic. I even have a friendly got who loves me. To top it all off, I live in a crumbling, demon-infested city. Why wouldn’t I work hard?”

  “Yellow is the real miracle here.” She paused. “Your way is not going to be easy, little dreamer. I wish that wasn’t the case. I wish I could come and make your path easier, but then you wouldn’t learn the lessons you need to learn. Things are about to change forever. For you. And for your wonderful world.”

  “The world isn’t wonderful. There’s magic, yes, but I still think it’s swords and blood, scheming and screaming, and we’ll all die, sick and old, if we’re lucky enough to get old at all. Maybe old age isn’t luck. Maybe it’s more of a curse because it gives us more time to be disappointed.” Gray was surprised at his own bitterness.

  Oma didn’t say anything for a long time.

  Gray was about to apologize for his outburst when she finally did speak in a voice full of sighs. “It’s a sad cage you are choosing if you believe that. I didn’t say the world wasn’t hard. I did say it was wonderful. It becomes what you focus on.”

  Gray found himself laughing. “If you focus on the cage, you become the cage. It’s what you would call small thinking. You warned me.”

  “I did,” she said. “Lean into the changes that are coming, sweet dreamer. But don’t forget love.”

  Gray was close enough to see the pine tree next to the shack on the little island. He’d not been able to smell it, but now he could, and he breathed in that cool scent of the tree. In the air hung glimmering bits of yellow pollen. He’d mistaken them for stars at first.

  He breathed them in, and he felt his core warm.

  Behind him, he heard a splash. Someone was behind him.

  Fear filled his chest. He turned…

  And then he was awake, in his bed, sitting up.

  A lingering memory remained. There, standing in the water, he’d seen himself, but different, so different, in fine clothes, with a sheathed sword at his side, and a crown on his head. The richness was one thing, but the thing that struck him the most was the look his older self had in his eyes. It was a look of infinite peace and understanding.

  “Stay out of the cage,” he whispered to himself. Then he realized that Oma hadn’t answer any of his questions about his core, the kill squad or the Testing. He had to laugh at her and himself.

  He thought of the people he’d left behind in Cradleport. What had happened to Blind John? What did think Princess Lilian think of him now? Would he ever get answers to those questions? It was unlikely.

  Yellow lay on his bed, panting. It was already so hot.

  Gray pet the puppy, and then went out to meet the day, expecting to follow his routine, but it wasn’t meant to be.

  Settie stood near two trunks in the living room. On one of the trunks was her hat, mask, and a thick cloak. She pointed her cane at him. “Pack your things. We are leaving."