“Why is this happening to me!?” Quin yelled into the wilderness.

  As the sky transitioned from orange to black, the woods stood more obscured. Quin’s eyes could only discern the scene directly ahead of him. The sky helped him less and less, but his ears picked up more and more.

  He only heard the chatter of crickets. Dirt and leaves teamed up to ambush his nose; it gave him a bout of sneezing fits. No help were the downward temperatures.

  The festival likely began already yet Quin couldn’t be further from the festivities. Darkness crept into the woods at a faster rate and made it difficult for him to get his bearings straight. From the mountains down to the forest and up to the city, many paths existed.

  Too many paths however, led to another, then another, and maybe, even another. What’s worse, his one source of guidance continued to fade. Nature appeared unfriendly.

  The entire day had been less than perfect. Quin just wanted to make some extra money. Instead, he possibly lost out on that money, nearly lost his life, and at the moment had certainly lost his way.

  Still, one thing remained that could turn his day around but the paths continued to turn him around. The weather cooled but Quin heated up. At this rate, he wouldn’t see Aesther at all.

  “Why is this happening to meeeee!?” he shouted again with eyes closed and mouth open.

  His movements ceased, every step made him more agitated. He had to think but anger occupied his thoughts. His head told him to calm down, his heart told him to get mad. He obliged his heart.

  Anguish escaped Quin’s mouth as he let out his heart on anything nearby. The trees, the rocks, they all felt the bottom of his shoe except his eyes pictured them differently.

  One tree he kicked stood for Lymon since the misfortunes began with him. A stone he stomped was Desmon since the disaster stemmed from him. A log that took up half the road was the Cosondera not because they played a part in Quin’s awful day but because they couldn’t be bothered to help him off the mountains.

  The idea of those two cloaks back in town among the festivities while he aimlessly roamed around, infuriated him.

  In the end, the festival wasn’t foremost in Quin’s head. More and more, his chance to gift Aesther appeared to be dashed.

  Of course another day would come. Of course he would run into Aesther again. How she’d respond upon that next meeting though, circled his mind. To go out of her way to see him only for him just to be absent? He assumed she’d never talk to him again.

  All because a random Sentar’i wanted something and had no regard for Yerps like Quin. Whether they wore a cloak or not, they all possessed an utter disregard toward their weaker counterparts.

  Everyone was born a Yerp; everyone started their lives powerless and without ability. Once they stood out however, they became a Sentar’i and all of a sudden their Yerp past, life, and friends became irrelevant. Some were worse than others but that made no difference to him.

  Once he ran out of steam, Quin noticed a glow in the distance. Under the skies between the branches, the celebrations were underway. Quin felt forsaken, so far away.

  Led astray by the treacherous trail once more, Quin wanted to ditch it altogether and cut right through the greens toward the smoke.

  It was a dangerous idea, he thought, but it was a faster way back home, he understood. There was more in the woods than just crickets, he knew, but the paths led him nowhere fast, he concluded.

  “I just want to go hoooome!” Quin shouted to his head.

  With his mind completely ignored, Quin darted off the path. He followed the faint glow as he traversed the deep green woods.

  Off the beaten path, Quin kept his attention on the glow. His body informed him of the thorns and bushes he came across. The sound of rustled leaves replaced the crickets, it put an end to their conversations. Nothing else mattered to him.

  He had tunnel vision as pushed himself through the greens. The pricks and bites he sustained, continued to irritate him; Quin bore through it with gritted teeth.

  To his relief, he reached an open patch of grassland. Sight of a tower to his right provided more relief as it poked out from behind the hills. A while of a walk separated him from Sirqu, but Quin found his way back.

  Quin took one step towards home before he heard a step nearby.

  Out of the bushes across from him, a wolf emerged into his view with a growl in every breath. Anger turned to heart-sinking fear as he took a step back and the wolf, a step forward.

  So close to home yet much closer to death, a long second went by before he zipped back into the woods. The wolf quickly followed.

  Quin zigzagged across the trees, his hope that they would be barriers for his pursuer. It didn’t work. Much more nimble than he, the wolf maneuvered itself closer and closer. Every bark commanded his attention. He took so much note of the danger behind him, he barely noticed the danger ahead.

  Yards in front of him, he saw a tilted log. The feral beast drew closer, its barks virtually next to his ear. If he slowed down his pace, he’d speed up his demise.

  With instinct his only guide, Quin dropped back and slid knees first underneath the log. The sight of claws scratched the air above his eyes. He popped back up and continued forward.

  The log bought him time but it wouldn’t be enough time.

  That time came to an end when he reached the edge of a hill. Not high enough to threaten Quin’s life, a bad landing could still threaten his livelihood (not an unfamiliar scenario).

  The barks became louder, he only had one direction to go. He wanted to make a safe climb down. The wolf appeared and leaped at him, he too had to leap.

  In his descent, he tucked his head between his arms. He made contact with the slope then bounced, tumbled, and rolled his way down.

  At the bottom, Quin’s body folded to a ball. A phantom sense and memories linked together to evoke agony of years past. He couldn’t tell where he was. He couldn’t tell what time it was. He trembled on the ground as his mind continually received double vision.

  All his brain registered were fainted words from his sister. “It’ll be fine Quin,” she repeated again and again. The pain, the helplessness, the fury, the dread. From the flesh to the heart, every feeling relived those painful moments, all in rapid succession as if on cue.

  Then a line of Naim Noma’s popped into his head: “The mind manifests fear. It is up to the heart to prevail or succumb.”

  Earlier, Quin’s mind and heart locked horns with one another. Now, the two worked as one to build the other back up. “It’ll be fine Quin,” he heard again but the words amplified in his head. He could still breathe. He could still think. He could still live.

  Eventually, Quin rose off the ground. He experienced no broken bones nor saw any large gashes. Only scratches and bruises, in short, a miracle. Perched up above where he stood seconds ago, the wolf sent barks down after him. It had no intention to follow his lead and ultimately retreated from view.

  Quin let out a sigh of relief as he took stock of his state.

  His clothes took the worst of it, tattered after a tangle with grass and dirt. Black and red colored his arms and hands. To his surprise, he wasn’t in as much pain as he expected though his body ached from head to toe.

  That was how Quin felt on the outside. He felt something different on the inside. The sensation of warmth he felt earlier encompassed his flesh and bones. It rammed against his flesh as if they were attempts to escape.

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  Faint cheers could be heard in the distance. It felt like a celebration for Quin, a commemoration for his brush with and escape from danger.

  Into the outskirts of Sirqu, Quin shambled into civilization with its welcoming warmth and away from nature with its cold indifference. Lights of all sizes glowed over the hills, the city proper just on the other side.

  Quin’s mouth watered when scents of cooked meat hit his nose. His eyes served him well, now the assorted spices and roasts carried him back.

  Over the hill, Quin saw houses, farms, fields, and lit roads. He made it back to Sirqu and found himself in the more wealthy part of town that hugged the mountains to its north.

  The houses stood far apart from one another while tall statues littered the roads on either side. Up ahead of him laid a yard of statues equally spaced apart in rows. It served as a junction where all the other roads converged.

  Had it been a regular night, Quin would have stuck out spectacularly. To his fortune, many of the residents brought their attention to the festival. All the easier for him to slip back to his abode and put away the awful day.

  The day wasn’t entirely over with but Quin was entirely over with the day. Aesther and the sandals were an issue for tomorrow; he had enough with issues. Once he reached the other side of the yard however, a new issue cropped into view.

  In the middle of arm stretches, stood a red headed man with two bald individuals next to him. They noticed Quin. He noticed them.

  Quin’s face widened in disbelief. Once he saw the crooked smile, he turned back. He couldn’t believe his luck, it would only get worse.

  Halfway through the yard, a gust of wind pushed him off his feet. His body collided with the unyielding marble. It remained vertical, the same could not be said for him.

  “Not really up for a run tonight,” Orpes said as he strolled toward Quin. “So I’d rather you don’t.”

  For a split second, Quin sought death. Bound against his will up in the mountains. Chased through the forest by a wolf. Attacked once more by the one person he can never avoid. He couldn’t take much more of this. The sensation in his body became hotter.

  Orpes walked up with a grin and bad intentions. “I was having a bit of a bad day, but now that you’re here, I can blow off some steam.”

  “Why!” Quin shouted with arms stretched in exasperation. “Why are you doing this to me?! Why can’t you leave me alone?! What have I done to you?!”

  Orpes dropped his smile; anger filled his face. “What have you done to me?” he asked with a lowered voice. “You mean you forgot? You screwed me over and you’re telling me you forgot?!”

  Orpes kicked Quin square on the chest as he tried to get up. His body slid like a stone across the yard. The twins flanked him as they tried to hold him back.

  “Get your damned Yerp hands off of me!” Orpes barked as he shoved them aside. He stomped toward Quin. “It really has been a long while hasn’t it Quin? Long enough, that you forgot this is all YOUR fault!”

  Another burst of wind hit Quin’s torso. He twirled as he thudded across the floor to a corner.

  “Three years ago, the Royas, you getting involved in my business.” His finger rapidly alternated between himself and Quin. “You took a great opportunity away from me and you have the nerve to forget?!”

  Quin tried to get back up, but Orpes stuck out his arm and out came another blast of wind. In no shape to dodge, Quin took the entire gale and bounced off another statue.

  “I was going to be in their circle,” Orpes expressed with his fists on his chest. “I was going to bring prestige back to my family and then...and then you ruined it!”

  “But...you gave them a fake pendant.” Quin countered as he gingerly rose to his hands and knees. “You told...everyone about how they rewarded you for it.” he slowly made it back to his feet. “I didn’t know it was fake...but I had the same pendant. So I thought I could do the same thing.”

  Another blast of wind knocked Quin against the marble rock. Pain enveloped his body. Anger encompassed his bully’s face.

  “That’s why it’s all your fault!” Orpes claimed with beady eyes. “If only you minded your own business, then everything would have been fine. But you didn’t. And then you forgot about the embarrassment it caused me? Well this time I’ll make sure you neeevver forget again.”

  Back in the day, the two toiled for Lymon. Couriers they were along with several other kids. Lymon did business primarily with coins, he did payments primarily with barter. Quin, Orpes, and plenty others were handed off trinkets with claims of high value.

  Quin never believed it until he found out about a deal Orpes made with the Royas: a large and influential family obsessed with all things shiny and rare. Orpes made them an offer, a rare item for a rare spot among them.

  In the end, the deal fell apart when Quin entered the picture. The Royas shamed them both and while Quin wasn’t bothered by the backlash, it set off a meltdown for Orpes. Ever since, the harassment began.

  Quin more than had enough of it. Beaten, bloodied, and bruised, he rose up to a knee. For over two years, he had to look over both shoulders whenever he stepped outside. For two-plus years, he had to avoid or evade the red headed menace lest he’d be caught between fists.

  More than two years of fear and pain prevailed in his life, that on top of the grievous changes he incurred. All over a trinket. Orpes never revealed why he began his vendetta against Quin, but now that the reason came out (a trivial reason at that) anger filled Quin’s heart.

  By the time he reached Quin, Orpes saw a face not in fear but in rage.

  A knee bashed up to Quin’s head. He crashed back to the paved ground. Knocked out of the corner, Quin had an open route to escape with a road directly behind him. He slowly rose back up, and faced Orpes, he lost his mood to flee.

  “You should be cowering, begging for forgiveness.” Orpes stated as he approached Quin. “Have you suddenly turned into a masochist?”

  Quin took one step forward of his own. He stared directly at Orpes, fists closed as if ready to strike back. The warm sensation in his body burned him to his very core.

  “Well what are you waiting for?!” Orpes yelled. “Get on your damned knees and BEG FOR FORGIVENESS YERP!”

  Quin said nothing. His eyes looked like they would pop out any second. He made quick and shallow breaths, filtered through clenched teeth. The reaction had Orpes beside himself in anger.

  “Oooh. Oooohhh. You think you’re going to do something?” Orpes raised with feigned shock. “Cuz if you’re not going to grovel, you can...” He unleashed a quick hook to the face. “STAY down!”

  Quin’s body barreled toward the twins like a projectile. They nearly caught him but the ground ultimately had his back. Centered in the yard again, Quin needed the aid of a statue to pick himself up. Orpes’ temper sky high as it was,suddenly cooled down before he cracked his crooked smile.

  “Okay. Alright, I get it now,” Orpes started. “I get it. You want another broken leg.”

  Quin’s senses had to reset.

  “Yeah, that’s it,” Orpes concluded as he leisurely walked to Quin. “Last time it happened, you changed your tune. But that was like two years ago so I guess you forgot about that too.”

  Far from a lost memory to Quin, the intense warmth inside him became an inferno. He remembered the pain, remembered his sister’s response, remembered the empty feeling after she left. The heat inside felt like a caged beast. It wanted to break free.

  “I remember it like it was yesterday,” Orpes stated while he nudged the twins out of his way. “That’s when I found out about my wind arts.”

  Everything clicked.

  Quin thought of his injury as just another misfortune in his life. The warmth wanted to break free. He stood straight up, he no longer felt any pain. It wanted to break free. Every part of his body felt the same thing. It wanted to break free.

  “Yeah, you reeally changed your tune after that.” Orpes strolled up next to Quin. “You knew your place back then. Maybe it’s time for a new memory.”

  Orpes wound his arm back to send another blast. He never got a chance.

  Quin stuck his arm out and in an instant, an explosive gale slammed Orpes headfirst against the marble pedestal. Smoke emanated from his hand. The beast broke free.

  Two things cracked from the gust: the stone pedestal, and Orpes’ skull. Both collapsed to the ground.

  For a few seconds, the twins were as still as the statues, completely dumbfounded at what to do next. Not long after, they rushed up to Orpes and lifted him by the arms and legs. They booked it out of the yard while Quin paid them no mind. Eyes widened, they were affixed on his hand and the smoke-like substance that flowed out.

  His head felt both empty and crammed with thoughts. Memories, ideas, dreams. They all ran laps up in Quin’s noggin. After a few seconds, a new reality dawned on him. He just stood out.

  Quin became a Sentar’i.

  The effects of a long day vanished yet it felt like every muscle in his body gasped for air. The salt that accumulated from Quin’s sweat filled every corner of his mouth; he spat out a mixture of salt and iron.

  Nature filled up Quin’s nose with no sneezes the second time around, the smell reminded him of the outdoors after a rainstorm.

  The moment produced a loud ring in his ears that gradually went away though they still stung. Everything looked clearer. Everything sounded sharper.

  The smoke started to turn red and spread across his body. Quin grew concerned. He began to panic but not long after, it began to disappear and soon, it faded away. It felt like his troubles also faded away.

  As one of the worst days of his life came to a close, it opened up a new beginning. For the first time all day, a smile appeared on Quin’s face. Never again would the red headed menace harass him.

  After he resigned himself to the wretched fate that entailed a Yerp, Quin suddenly felt like he had control of his destiny. Though the powers showed up at a late age, Quin was excited for this next stage.

  When it came to the everyday people in his life, he wasn’t sure how things would go. Would Lymon let him keep the money, he wondered. Then came the state of his living condition. Would he have to find a new place to live, he pondered.

  Then, Aesther crossed his mind. The entire dynamic between them would change and he knew that. What that new dynamic might look like, clouded Quin’s head.

  In any case, he had a rock solid excuse for his no-show with Aesther. He might have lost one opportunity with the sandals, but Quin knew he had another. He looked forward to it.

  Quin finally looked forward ahead of him and his smile faded. Right there to look back at him, several people in black cloaks stood.

  It was the Cosondera; they did not look happy. He turned to every side of the yard and realized they surrounded him. He deduced the pieces of rock beside him had something to do with it. Some of them were in masks, some were not, their stares unsettled Quin all the same.

  The moment he took a step, a Cosondere appeared directly in front of his eyes out of nowhere, the sign of a ghost artist. In total shock, Quin stood as an open target for one punch.

  They drilled Quin in the sternum. It took his breath away as his vision blurred before it went black.