The sky was clear; birds chirped, and flowers bloomed in the fields. It was a good morning.

  Jenne sat on the front porch of the villa, boot in one hand, brush in the other. He polished his own shoes, then moved on to Hamis’ and Ashey’s pairs. Once he finished, he grabbed a broom to sweep the porch. Though chores were meant to be shared, Hamis and Ashey weren’t used to helping so Jenne did it all. The only exception was their bedrooms.

  “Hamis, will you be okay by yourself?” he asked, knocking lightly on Hamis’ door. No response. Ashey shook her head at his persistence as she walked past.

  Hamis remained in his room and the two set off for school without him, walking side by side across the wet morning grass.

  “I think I’ve got it all now,” Ashey said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Show me a sign, and I’ll tell you the name.”

  Raising one hand, Jenne dropped his index finger and held it in place with his thumb.

  “Oh, um… Ria!” Ashey exclaimed. “No, dammit, it’s the other one.”

  “It’s Ria,” Jenne corrected. “You’re right.”

  “I am?”

  “Do you know Ria’s uses?”

  “Don’t start, please,” she groaned. “I’m just trying to memorize their names for now.”

  “Want to try again?”

  “Sure,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Give me another one.”

  She turned around, walking backward so she could keep her eyes on him. Jenne dropped his little finger, leaving four fingers raised. Ashey squinted at his hand, pouted, and smacked her lips.

  “Son… Soncara?”

  “That’s not even a sign,” Jenne said, eyebrows raised.

  Ashey groaned. Just as he was about to correct her, she raised a finger, eyes squeezed shut.

  “Come on, I just learned this.”

  “Misory,” Jenne said.

  “Shit!” She slapped her forehead repeatedly. “Misory, misory, misory.” She groaned again and spun to face forward, surrendering.

  “You remembered all of them yesterday,” he said. “I think you’re just tired.”

  “I’m not tired,” she mumbled, crossing her arms.

  “Well, you’ve been kind of different ever since you heard your mom was back on the mainland.”

  “Different how?” she snorted. “I don’t care about her. And even if I did, wouldn’t now be the right time to remember all this crap? Why do I get super dumb only when she’s around?”

  “Maybe you’re trying too hard to impress her?”

  Ashey stopped walking. Had he said something wrong?

  “I’m hungry,” she said abruptly. “What’s for breakfast today?”

  They quickened their pace toward the cafeteria. Hamis might not eat anything for a few days. Jenne understood that feeling all too well. Blackwood being offline had also dulled his own appetite. The news of Hamis’ uncle’s death, broadcast the previous night, still weighed heavily.

  “So, I have a friend from my old school,” Ashey said, “and he’s invited me to a party. They’re going on holiday soon.”

  “Who?”

  “Nicholas. From my old school,” she clarified. “Try to keep up.”

  “And the party?”

  “I don’t want to go alone. Since Hamis isn’t well—”

  “I’m not going.”

  “Jenne, everyone’s going to be looking at me. I can’t go alone.”

  “I don’t want to go.”

  “After everything I’ve done for you?”

  “No.”

  “Fine.”

  Eva was at her counter that morning, flushed-faced and distracted. She hadn’t noticed Jenne and Ashey arriving. When she finally did, she leaped up from her stool, hastily wiping her eyes with her apron.

  “Guys,” she said, her voice rough.

  “Have you been crying?” Ashey asked. “I didn’t think Firios meant that much to you.”

  “Ren Deus,” Jenne corrected. Ashey thumped him on the arm. It didn’t hurt.

  Eva gripped her hand so tightly her skin had turned red. No one would shed that many tears for a Gaverian who had raided and destroyed their home. Ashey might not have known, but Jenne did. Eva was a Myersian, born in Tardis. After the failed negotiations, Yunnish troops had flooded the city, trampling rebels.

  “I’m sorry, Eva,” Jenne said, hoping his words would be enough. There wasn’t much else he could say openly.

  “Everyone I care about is right here with me,” Eva said, forcing a bright smile. “Would you like some oats?”

  “Ew, no. We’re not horses,” Ashey snorted. “That’s not even on the menu.”

  “I’m sorry I messed things up last night, and I couldn’t…”

  “It’s fine,” Jenne interrupted, taking both trays in hand.

  Ashey sat at the table, pouting, her fist pressed against her cheek. She swatted at her porridge with her spoon, letting it fall back into the bowl. Jenne, halfway through his own meal, asked her what was wrong.

  “I’m so stupid,” she sighed. “Everyone’s having a bad time, and all I care about is going to some stupid party.”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “You don’t have to feel guilty for wanting to enjoy yourself. None of this is your fault.”

  “I guess not. Besides, my mom is back home. I’ll probably be the most miserable one here.”

  “I’m glad Renna is back,” Jenne said. She stuck her tongue at him, making him squirm, hating to see the chewed food in her mouth. Ashey did it again, and he took his tray away. She chased him down the dining hall.

  They had a class with Ms. Class that morning, who didn’t ask about Hamis’ absence. Ashey kept making mistakes with her answers, forgetting the stuff they had learnt a week ago. Ms. Class ended the class early, giving Jenne some free time to do something important. He took out his phone from his bag and prepared to record.

  “Are we making another video?” asked Ashey. Jenne nodded. She grabbed his phone, leading him outside. They headed to a grassy area near the trees. Handing him the phone, she said, “Here, take a picture of me.” She planted a hand on her waist and raised up two fingers with the other hand.

  Together, they looked at the picture he had taken. “Doesn’t this look better than the ones we record inside the classroom?” she asked.

  “It is brighter,” Jenne admitted.

  They sat together in the grass, facing each other. Ashey held up the camera while tearing open a candy bar with her teeth. Jenne frowned at her, and she grinned, steadying the camera. With a thumbs-up from Ashey, he began speaking.

  “Hey, everyone. Um, Renna Sorel is back on the mainland, as I’m sure you’ve heard. We’ve seen her a lot on TV, but I haven’t had the chance to meet her in person. Things haven’t been going too well for everyone. My friend, Hamis, lost his uncle in the Midder-Lands. He’s really sad right now. Some people say the war won’t end soon, but I don’t think that’s true. Um, I gained three points this week. Hamis and I have a five-point gap now. I know I should be proud, but I’m not. It doesn’t feel right to be happy when my friend is down. Ashey is doing okay, too. We’re going to a party later, but that’s after Hamis’ uncle’s funeral. Ren Gallant’s funeral is on the same day as well. He died on a special mission in the UCL, but I’m not sure if I’m allowed to talk about that. I guess that’s all I have to say. I’ll see you later. Bye.”

  One day, Jenne hoped his logs would reach his parents, and they would watch with the entire village.

  On Saturday, a military vehicle arrived at the school. Jenne, Ashey, and Hamis wore black. They sat together in the back of the vehicle, Hamis in the middle. No one knew what to say. A sniffle from Hamis broke the silence. Ashey leaned in close, putting her arm around his waist.

  People from all over Henrik City lined the streets that day. There were no loud wails like in other regions of Henrikia. The people here had discipline. Men and women, adults and children, stood side by side, offering a salute as a long procession of black vehicles passed by.

  Funeral services would be held simultaneously in all churches across the country, including the UCL. The largest and most significant service would take place at the Church of Rheina. Regardless of one’s location in Henrik City, the church was always visible. Crafted from stone and marble, and adorned with the finest metals and paint, the church had a simple prismatic structure, with a single floor where the congregation gathered. Four statues stood atop the roof, one on each side.

  To the north, a statue depicted a woman in flowing robes, holding an hourglass in one hand. To the south, a hooded figure held up a mirror with both hands. To the east, a naked woman held the hand of a fat man. To the west, a warrior rested both hands on the hilt of his giant blade. And in the centre, at the highest point, was the statue of a man gilded in gold, gazing at the sky.

  Politicians, government officials, and their families from around the city gathered at the church. Unlike the open streets, the vicinity of the compound was bustling with guests heading through the church’s doorway. A soldier approached the three of them, fending off the pressing crowd. “Your family is waiting, Master Deus,” he said, raising his voice above the noise. He whistled to his companion, giving him instructions in English. One soldier returned with a folded silver cloak and draped it over Hamis, concealing his hands and feet.

  Guided by the officer, Hamis joined Demettle Deus, the oldest Deus in Henrikia, and Sirios Deus, Hamis’ father, at the foot of the church stairs. Hamis’ little sister was also there, hugging him when he reached them.

  “It’s your turn, Miss Sorel,” the officer said to Ashey. Another officer appeared with an amber cloak for her. “Your family is waiting in the chapel.” The brightness of Ashey’s cloak made Jenne’s eyes ache.

  “What about Jenne?” Ashey asked, as they led her away. “Where is his cloak?”

  “He will follow behind you,” the officer said. Once Ashey was gone, the officer stared at Jenne, as if he had forgotten what he was doing. He continued to gaze until Jenne attempted to move forward. Clearing his throat, the officer asked where Jenne was going.

  “To the church,” Jenne replied. “I need to be there for Hamis.”

  “Only special guests are allowed inside the Church of Rheina,” the officer explained. “I’m afraid you cannot enter. You will have to wait with the common people out here in the courtyard.”

  “But I know Hamis,” Jenne insisted. “I’ve been with him all this time. He’ll want me there.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t make the rules,” the officer stated. “You must wait outside.”

  “Or he can come with us,” a voice boomed.

  Behind Jenne was a group of individuals dressed in dark violet cloaks, each tall and stiff-faced. Leading them was a thicker and more imposing figure, with short brown hair streaked with grey. His violet eyes bore the intensity of a Gallant. This was Tenrad Gallant himself. Jenne’s knees weakened at the sight of the legend.

  “Ursel, give him your cloak,” said Tenrad. The tall girl behind him tossed her cloak onto Jenne’s face. He fumbled with it, his hands trembling. Growing impatient, the officer took it upon himself to adjust the cloak on Jenne. As the group of Gallants marched forward, Jenne joined them, cutting through the awe-struck onlookers.

  Jenne had never been one to appreciate ancient architecture. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but glance around at the glass windows and the paintings on the ceilings. Rows of pews faced an altar, which stood before a golden throne. Resting upon the throne was a golden crown, symbolising that one day Rheina would return to rule the world from his holy city.

  To the left of the throne stood a block of dark wood engraved with the symbol of the crafters, wide enough to fit ten men standing shoulder to shoulder. Five more blocks lined the hall, each adorned with its own symbol.

  Just before the altar, two caskets lay side by side—one silver and the other violet. Portraits of Firios and Votress stood next to their respective caskets. Priests and altar boys rushed in and out of restricted areas while organists and technicians checked their instruments and equipment.

  Flags atop poles marked different sections within the church. In the centre of the room, a yellow flag stood next to the ascenders in amber cloaks. Schemel and Ashey stood together, reunited. The other amber-haired woman was Mariel, Schemel’s sister. The dark-haired lady, Helen, was Ashey’s grandmother. On the adjacent column was a silver flag. Hamis and his family sat there, isolated and miserable.

  An usher guided the Gallants to their designated pews, their violet flag resting beside them. Each flag had its own symbol. The Gallant flag, for instance, displayed two crossed daggers encircled by a crown of thorns. Jenne realised he was more captivated by his surroundings than fully engaged in the funeral. He had forgotten to be remorseful, and Tenrad had taken notice. The mere presence of the Gaverian sitting beside him was enough to keep Jenne’s eyes down from that point onward.

  The ceremony proceeded slowly, with lengthy sermons from two different priests and even longer hymns dedicated to the deceased. He had never found such services boring, but this was a bit much. When it was time for the family to pay their final respects, Hamis and his sister placed silver coins in their uncle’s casket—a ritual not part of Hexism. Since the Deus family were not originally Henrikians, they kept their own rituals from their homeland.

  Jenne rubbed his eyes, hardening his face.

  “What is wrong with you?” Tenrad asked.

  “Nothing, Sir.”

  “Every decent ascender in this room can hear your heart pounding from a mile away.”

  “I’ve just been hearing some rumours about my village, that’s all,” Jenne blurted. “I should be stronger. Ashey and Hamis are away from home as well but none of them make a fuss over it as I do.”

  “What colour is your cloak?” the old Gaverian said. Jenne was unable to answer. “They are home; you’re not.”

  “But I don’t feel lonely. I’m doing a video log for my parents,” Jenne said, patting his pockets for his phone, only to realise he had left it in the car. “It has everything I want to tell them.”

  “What are you telling them?”

  “No government secrets.”

  “You have no government secrets,” Tenrad snorted. “I’m asking as a friend, Aster.”

  He knows my name. Tenrad Gallant knows my name. “The video logs are about the classes I’ve been attending.”

  “That’s good. Never stop talking to your parents,” Tenrad said. “I spent my days trying to make my sons the very best, and never sat down to chat with them. If I could do it all again, I would never have let them leave home. Aster, when you get out of Se Fina, go home. And if it is no longer there, find one.”