“I know it’s a lot.” Matthias finished his story.

  “It’s more than a lot, little brother!” Bregindoure hissed, his eyes bloodshot. He gripped the bars, turning his knuckles white. “You nearly died. You fell from a cliff, cracked your head, had a dream about someone awakening to Divine Breath, then you awakened to Divine Breath—”

  “I think it’s Divine Breath, at least,” Matthias cut in.

  “Right, you think it’s Divine Breath, forgive me.” Bregindoure massaged his temples. “I’m a little hung up on how you grew a tentacle out of your shadow and used it to stab a gamrung. Oh, and how you almost died!”

  “In the eye,” Matthias added with pride. “I stabbed it in the eye. That part’s important.”

  Bregindoure’s gaze was fixed on the tendril. “If I wasn’t seeing that thing for myself, I’d assume you were pulling some elaborate prank. Matthie, why are you taking this so calmly? You do realise you could be rune-marked, right? Many runes are tolerated, but they still limit your rights under the law! You cannot ever hold title and...oh by the gods, what if it’s something like my rune? Do you want to be killed or imprisoned all your life like me?”

  Matthias’ jaw hardened. “I will free you.”

  “That’s beside the point—”

  “Look!” Matthias gestured to his body. “No runes: Master Altaizar would have seen any when he was treating me.”

  Bregindoure shook his head, leaning forward, eyes wide. “Sometimes they can appear in very out of the way places. Open your mouth!”

  Matthias opened his mouth, lifted his tongue and shifted it from side to side.

  Bregindoure peered inside before sighing with relief. “No, no runes. But still…”

  He closed his eyes. “Master Altaizar gave me some books on the rune-marked and other magics, reading about them helped me pass the years. I’ve read them enough times to know most by heart. It says in chapter three of A Hunter’s Guide to Nightmares of the Age of Wolves.”

  Bregindoure cleared his throat, reciting from memory, “Rune-marked bear crimson runes on their flesh, each imbued with unique powers. Examples include: the Rune of the Warrior, which grants great skill with arms, strength, speed and toughness. The Rune of the Storm grants the ability to fire crimson lightning in a deadly attack. The Rune of Clarity will free the mind of exhaustion, shore it up against influences that destroy reason, and make the senses resistant to illusion. The Rune of the Berserker curses a warrior with a bloodthirsty rage that also gives them colossal strength, toughness and speed. Note that the Rune of Clarity is a deadly pairing with the Rune of the Berserker, for such a union grants most of the strengths of the Berserker rage while leaving the mind clear and in control.”

  “It’s amazing you remember all that,” Matthias interjected.

  Bregindoure made a sour face. “I was motivated to learn all I could about my curse. As I was saying, Deeds of slaughter, mastery and valor mark a rune-marked with additional runes, thus granting them an ever-increasing horde of synergistic powers. The greatest rune-marked warriors have bodies covered in blazing glyphs, terrorizing battlefields with monstrous magics, titanic physical abilities and preternatural skill. The runes of a rune-marked are divine in nature, crafted by the will of a deity of which we have no knowledge. They most often appear on a warrior’s body during battle, but can manifest on anyone, even children, at any time. Be vigilant of neighbours who gain a taste for conflict and bloodletting, and check their skin thoroughly: runes might be obscured by clothing for a time, but will shine through even metal when a rune-marked is filled with bloodlust. Unlike lycanthropy—hidden during daylight hours in the early days of that curse—runes will always be visible on the skin, and are immune to magic’s attempts to obscure them. Whichever entity marks a rune-marked, they wish for their runes to be borne openly and with pride. Use this to your advantage when hunting rune-marked warriors.”

  “Bregindoure, I think it’s Divine Breath. It’s not so ba—” Matthias started.

  “Oh, only the Third—forbidden—pillar of power that steals the energy left behind by the deities? Not so bad?” Bregindoure’s voice was strained like a string about to snap. “Do you hear yourself? That thing—” He pointed at the tendril. “—could still destroy your life. We need to hide it, forget this ever happened and figure out how to get back at those three—”

  “No, we’re not forgetting anything.” Matthias shook his head.

  “What? Matthie, this is dangerous. This is your life.”

  “And so was going off that cliff.” Matthias’ eyes flicked to a plaque hanging on Bregindoure’s wall. Way of Stone was etched into it. “I can’t just forget this, because they won’t. They will do it again, and I can’t just endure it anymore. Whether this is Divine Breath in me or not, it’s...look, Breg, I’ve had nothing. Nothing I can use to defend myself or carve a path in this world. But whatever’s happened to me now? It’s already happened, and it can’t be ignored. Even if it's forbidden, I finally have something. I finally. Have. Something."

  His words—hissed out in the harshest of whispers—hung in the air.

  Bregindoure watched him for a long time. Then he grimaced. “If only your failure of a brother could protect you. ...but you’re right. What is done is done, and perhaps ignoring it is not the best idea. I ask your forgiveness.”

  Matthias winced. “Breg, it’s not like—”

  “Now, we need to know about Divine Breath, right?” Bregindoure spoke quickly, cutting his brother off. He walked to one of his bookcases, pulling a large volume bound in green scales from among the books. “I don’t have any books that talk about the Divine Breath in detail, but there’s multiple mentions of it in The Three Pillars of Power. Bear with me, I don’t have it memorised.”

  He cleared his throat. “When our deities returned after the Age of Wolves, they bestowed upon all mortals dominion over creation; we are the earthly lords of the world, and have the potential to command the inanimate, elements, plants, and beasts. While we cannot command mortals, even ourselves—just as a king might not command another king—we are capable of all manner of wondrous feats. One might command stone to crumble. One might command a beast to be sturdier, stronger or calmer. One might command waters to part and heavens to pour. With a single word and a focused thought, all manner of physical wonders are possible. Such feats are called The Gift, and while the Gift has great power, it comes with certain rules and limitations. Some of these can be worked around with creative thinking, while others are hard and fast. The many rules will be covered in a later chapter.”

  Bregindoure continued. “Yet, despite all mortals having the potential to develop The Gift, only a select few ever will. The required willpower, mindset and natural talent to make a Gift Wielder are exacting and uncommon. Those who are of the peasantry, often do not possess the time, resources and mindset of command to generate a Gift Wielder, though The Gift can manifest regardless of social class. After all, under the deities, we all hold lordship over the world. Regardless of noble, royal or common origin, great lineages often result from families that produce multiple generations of Gift Wielders, and elevation to nobility tends to follow.”

  “Like our family,” Matthias said dryly. “Not that it helps either of us. And I think the author might need to do some rephrasing: can’t imagine that idiot Petric having ‘exacting and uncommon willpower, mindset and natural talent’.”

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  “Tell me about it.” Bregindoure grunted. “Some get lucky I suppose, especially in families that have produced Gift Wielders before. Then there’s us, who luck seems to be fatally allergic to. Hold on, Divine Breath’s mentioned soon. Let me skip ahead. “—use of The Gift is tiring, drawing not only on one’s willpower, but on one’s physical stamina as well. As such, the practice of Life Enforcement will enhance a Gift Wielder’s strength and endurance in using the art. Note as a warning: practising the cultivation of Divine Breath will often destroy one’s potential to develop The Gift. While Divine Breath grants incredible health, stamina and lifespan, it does so by shedding one’s mortality. The Gift is a gift to mortals and mortals alone, and not to beings who steal immortality from our deities through Divine Breath.”

  “Oh, well if I didn’t have a chance at developing The Gift before, I certainly don’t have one now.” Matthias snorted. He was only slightly bitter. Slightly. “Does it talk more about Divine Breath?”

  “Not in this part,” Bregindoure said. “Let me skip to the chapter on Life Enforcement. The second pillar of power, Life Enforcement, is the direct cultivation of nature’s strength. What energies Life Enforcement practitioners take from nature is little more than what a tree might draw from the soil, but the effect of its refinement on the body is incredible: increased longevity, enhancement of all physical abilities, and a higher state of awareness. The practise is uncommon—one must have an innate compatibility, which usually appears continuously in one’s bloodline—”

  “Except for me, of course,” Matthias grunted. “But apparently, it’s fine for Kari and Siegfried.”

  Bregindoure made a sound of disgust. “—as well as a calm mind, patience and inner strength. You know, things that Kari and Siegfried are known for. Ugh, I don’t usually go for book burning…but anyway. Note that the cultivation of Divine Breath is a perversion based on the practice of Life Enforcement. Divine Breath Cultivators steal divine energy left behind by the deities of our world. It is the Art of the Thief.”

  Bregindoure turned the page. “Nothing else here. Let me go to the section on Divine Breath. I warn you, though, it’s not very big and mostly talks about reasons why you should never attempt it.”

  “Well, maybe there’s something useful among all the warnings.”

  Bregindoure flipped through the book, coming to the page he was looking for. “The Third Pillar of Power is Divine Breath, the forbidden pillar. Sapient mortals are not to steal the energies of the deities, for the consequences are dire. While it is true that beasts might absorb Divine Breath naturally—transforming into demonic or divine beasts—sapient mortals must not make the choice to go down such a path.”

  “Didn’t have a choice,” Matthias grunted.

  “Most who attempt this path to power are usually killed by the abominable process. Even if they survive such an awakening, they attract greater risks as they proceed. Their bodies might crumble or mutate. Our deities might send lightning or other divine tribulations to strike them down. Most do not survive attempting this path. If you must hunt a Divine Breath practitioner, research what deities they steal from. A Divine Breath user can only gain strength by taking the energies of one deity on a path of purity, or two deities on a path of amalgamation. Their powers will be based on which deities they cultivate. A cultivator of Culf—God of slaughter—will have powers over battle and blood, while a cultivator of Sarnici—Goddess of the sea—will have powers over the ocean and the creatures that live there. Research well, and make sure you are prepared for the might they wield—”

  “That’s it!” Matthias hissed, looking at his tentacle. “It must be Divine Breath: this tendril is coming out of my shadow, and Lykosion is the god of thieves and shadows! I’m probably cultivating his divine energy!”

  “Hm, perhaps.” Bregindoure flipped a few more pages. “Note that the three pillars of power are not the only forms of magic left in the world. Old magic still exists, though it is strictly forbidden, for it once brought about the world’s ruin. Magic that conjures demons to make pacts for power with, magic that twists enchanted items—honourable relics and our birthright from the old world—to power spells beyond their purposes, the cutting of the soul, the rune-marked and many other sorceries are capable of strange powers. Be careful when facing any of their practitioners.”

  Matthias’ older brother closed the book. “The tentacle could come from any number of other magics as well.”

  “You’re right,” Matthias agreed. “But we won’t get any more answers by speculating. Do you have any other books that could tell us more?”

  Bregindoure shook his head. “If you want to learn more, you’ll have to go to Altaizar.”

  “Right.” Matthias began pacing back and forth across the tower floor. “I think I might—”

  “Matthie! I thought you might be—What is that?” a voice screamed from the door.

  Both brothers jumped, shouting.

  Dagma was at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide, staring at the shadow tendril.

  “Matthie, look out! There’s—” The girl fumbled for her dagger.

  Matthias leapt across the room, covering her mouth. “Wait, wait! Don’t make so much noise, we might—”

  “What’s going on up there?” one of the guards called from outside.

  “Everything’s fine!” Matthias shouted.

  “My brother played a little joke on our sister!” Bregindoure called down.

  Below, the tower door banged open. “We’re coming up there!”

  Matthias cursed inwardly, and his sister’s eyes widened as the tentacle melted away to black mist.

  The guards’ footsteps pounded on the stairs.

  “Listen, Dagma, I’ll explain everything, but I need you to keep calm,” Matthias spoke quickly. “Don’t mention the shadow to the guards, okay?”

  Dagma’s wide eyes lingered on her brother.

  The clink of chainmail grew louder, coming up the stairs.

  His sister gave a silent nod.

  He mouthed. “Thank you.”

  Matthias took his hand from her mouth, rushed away and grabbed two chairs, holding them above his head.

  Bregindoure stepped back from the bars.

  Dagma stared at her brothers.

  The guards burst into the room; maces raised. “Are you alright, Lady Dagma? Your father’s ready to take you if…if…”

  Both guards’ eyes fell on Matthias as he waved the chairs above his head. “Grrrr. Arrrgh. I’m a big, scary monster. Rawr. Rawr.”

  “Oh no, how ghastly!” Bregindoure cried mockingly. “The Sister-Eater! You should run, Dagma!”

  The guards stared at them, then turned to Dagma.

  She shook herself. “Uh, oh no! Not the uh…Sister Killer—”

  “Eater,” Matthias corrected.

  “Yes, um, Sister-Eater! Uh, stay back, you, uh, monster!” She put up her little fists.

  The guards stared at the three siblings; their expressions so unimpressed that their faces looked ready to melt off.

  “You know, some of us have actual jobs to do.” One huffed, both turning and stomping down the stairs.

  The Stonebreaker siblings let out a collective sigh of relief.

  “Okay, what’s going on?” Dagma whispered, her eyes flicking between her brothers. “Matthie, I went to your room to check on you and found your note, so I came here. What…what was that weird thing?”

  Matthias sighed. “I need you to stay quiet and keep everything I’m about to tell you secret. I’m going to trust you, okay?”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  “Wow,” Dagma whispered. “So you’re like a shadow kraken now?”

  “I…no,” Matthias said. “But…maybe, yes?”

  “No. I will not allow it.” Bregindoure shook his head. “Shadow kraken sounds far too legendary for you, Matthie.”

  “Stop being so damned reasonable and let me have an awesome name.” Matthias snorted, looking back at Dagma. “So, you’re not afraid?”

  “Afraid? Oh no, I think it’s scary, but exciting!” She poked his shadow with the tip of her boot, looking for the tendril. “You have power now. Which means it’s time for revenge.”

  Both she and Bregindoure looked at each other, grinning evilly, rubbing their hands together.

  “I don’t know about that,” Matthias raised his hands. “I’d love some payback, but I’d want to learn more about this shadow power and what it means before I go attacking two Life Enforcement practitioners and a Gift Wielder.”

  “Right, you did say that.” Dagma tapped her chin. “You also said you needed to know more about Divine Breath from Altaizar. So why not go to his tower?”

  Matthias shook his head. “He worked for father, so I want to be very careful with letting him know about the tendril. Best thing would be to get him to tell me about Divine Breath without revealing too much, but he’s so reluctant to talk about it—”

  “So, we break into his tower.”

  Silence.

  “What?” Matthias demanded. “You’re joking, right?”

  “No.” Dagma shook her head. “He’s away for a few days, right? You could just go in and look through his books yourself.”

  Matthias gaped at her. “You want me to break into a mage’s tower?”

  “Atlaizar said the protections on his tower won’t attack our family, and we’ve been there lots of times to ask him questions,” she pointed out. “You could just break in while he’s gone.”

  “I think…that’s complete madness! Bregindoure?” He turned to his brother. “You’re the sensible one: tell our sister that I shouldn’t break into Altaizar’s tower.”

  “Matthie, you should break into Altaizar’s tower,” Bregindoure said sensibly.

  “Exactly.” Matthias gestured to Dagma. “See, sister? Listen to our…bro…th…” He looked back at Bregindoure. “What did you just say?”

  “I mean it.” Bregindoure looked out the window toward the mountain where Altaizar’s tower lay. “His defences don’t harm our family. He’s away for a few days, and he likely won’t tell you what you need to know willingly. So? You should break into his tower. Take what you need yourself.”

  It's tiiiime for magic stuff! So I think this chapter we get more insight into Runes and a little more into Life Enforcement, Divine Breath and The Gift.

  Fun fact, one of the translations of 'Qi' is 'Breath', so when I was designing my version of more classic cultivation, I wanted something that paid homage to the original philosophical inspirations.

  Divine Breath felt like it fit, NGL, I was pretty happy with it. I am biased tho, lol.

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