Even though they shaded Quin from the blaring sun, the forest still had an air that felt thick and hot. Random rays of light poked holes through the woods as they traveled to the ground.

  The birds above appeared to be in an argument with an assortment of different chirps at different volumes all at the same time.

  Their heated debates occasionally stopped courtesy of a breeze but would carry back on.

  A minor distraction they were, but it wasn’t like Quin lost sight of his two targets. A couple of minutes into his pursuit and he made as much progress as when he started.

  His movements were swift and silent while he made sure to stray from any paths where he could come into view. The two men he tailed have yet to appear in his.

  He thought he would have caught up to them by now, but they could have changed directions.

  One solution would be to resume his search from above among the leaves. The higher view would no doubt be a great aid to his eyes.

  One problem against that idea was the higher view.

  Quin had no intention to leave the ground unless absolutely necessary, and he very much felt like he didn’t have to. He’d stick to the flat dirt even if it kept his progress flat.

  He made sure to keep the hill behind him and used it as a guide point. His teammates were on the other side of that hill.

  If his pursuit became a lost cause, he needed a straight shot back to the spring and back to his squad.

  He clutched his bundle of things which shared a spot with Ythan’s waterskin. The more time he took, the more irate his boss would be.

  He reached a small decline of the ground with more woods ahead of him. A needle in a haystack, Quin started to see futility ahead of him. He had no more time for aimless searches.

  His payback to the Black Nails would have to wait for another time. He turned to the hill and started his first steps back.

  “Will you hurry it up back there?!” he heard in the distance.

  Quin slowly moved in direction of the voice when he caught sight of one of the men from earlier.

  They waited alone on the path while several feet away, his associate stood affixed in front of a tree with their arms in front of their waist.

  “When nature calls, nature calls,” the other man said from his position. “The dam almost broke when that damned cloak showed up. Just our luck. I hope he ain’t following us.”

  “I think he was more interested in those two girls than chasing us, we should be fine. Also, thanks for having my back back there. You were with me in spirit while that bastard held me up and I appreciate the bondship.”

  “What good would it be if he nabbed us both?” the man asked before he wiggled in front of the tree. “Though, I’m starting to think that would have been preferable. We can’t keep going back empty handed.”

  “Well we can’t continue to live off of petty debts either. Our lives were supposed to be better, but it’s been the same this whole time.

  “If nothing changes soon, I’m out of here. All this crap ain’t worth the scrap.”

  “You might be right. I thought the Tyru were supposed to be rich. Everything keeps getting pushed back to tomorrow every day.

  “Methinks the whole thing is about to fall apart, so you might be right about looking for a way out.”

  The two men grouped back together and went on their way. Quin remained hidden as he kept his eyes on them.

  He lay low under the bushes and pursued with a crawl. He made sure to keep his mouth locked up despite the scratches he endured, courtesy of the thorns.

  The leisurely stroll helped him none, he could almost feel his boss’ ire from here. He thought all would be forgiven if he found the group’s dwelling spot.

  To that end, stealth was imperative as he trailed behind. He even lifted his mask, he thought his actual face would alert less attention.

  Finally, the two men arrived at a small camp on an unremarkable dirt beach. There, Quin spotted nearly a dozen people, all with fingernails painted black.

  They engaged in simple errands but mostly, they looked out to the sea where a collection of boats floated peacefully. One boat stood out spectacularly.

  Bedazzled in jewels, its glimmers were hard to miss. No doubt, someone important occupied that vessel.

  If he desired, Quin could slink back to his team and inform them of this camp. He wanted to see more however and in particular, his curiosity honed in on the boats.

  A focal point for all those ashore, his gut told him something would happen or was already in progress.

  His call paid off when he saw one of the plain boats turn back to shore. Everyone stopped their activities to meet its landing.

  Before the Yerp crew aboard disembarked, a sole Sentar’i stepped out into the crowd.

  Sunlight bounced off his dark skin while his mean scowl bounced off any stares.

  His large braids sparked familiarity and it took no time for Quin to recognize him as one of the two Sentar’i he fought at Odlassi the other night.

  “So...are we good Arthur?” asked someone among the crowd. “Are we getting a shipment of fresh supplies?”

  Arthur stared over in direction of the voice. “Did I ask for any questions? Things are a little tight right now. We have the cloaks breathing down our necks, but of course they would. We’re trying to end them.

  “The venerable Tyru family are on our side, okay? So of course they have the resources. Of course they have the funds. It’s just those damned cloaks.

  “They’re the ones that are making it harder for us. So, we gotta pinch a little more for a little while longer.”

  Grim sighs filled the air.

  “Remember why we’re doing this in the first place,” he prompted with a closed fist. “When the Tyru family takes back Sirqu and do away with those ‘protectors’, we’ll all be sitting pretty and enjoying the good times.

  “You’ve all seen what it’s like to live under that old man in Sirqu and his cloaked puppets. You won’t see that with the Tyru family in charge, but it’s not going to be easy. We’ll get over it and get. Through. This.”

  So as Quin understood it, the Black Nails set themselves out to get rid of the Cosondera.

  From a young age, he saw how helpful and “helpful” the Cosondera could be, but he never thought about their downfall let alone acted on it.

  To see Yerps involved in the activity never would have crossed his mind.

  The other boats at sea began to set out one at a time with the more extravagant vessel last. Quin thought he too should head out.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  He heard their true intentions.

  While he and the Cosondera thought of them as pests engaged in trouble, the Black Nails actually engaged in a campaign of destruction with the Cosondera as their targets.

  While prone, Quin turned around and made for the hill when he heard something rip as he moved. The pesky thorns did him an awful favor and tore his sack open.

  All of his things (especially his old cobbler tools) plopped to the ground under him.

  By no means a loud noise, it still perked up Arthur’s ears.

  “What was that?” he asked as his eyes darted for the bushes. He turned over to the men and pointed at them. “Hey, something’s over there. Go and check it out.”

  Quin had no time to tend to his things which shockingly, didn’t include the sandals. He left them behind in his escape.

  He elected not to dash out in his departure and instead stealthily backed away from his spot.

  That only assisted the Black Nails as they nearly encircled the bushes he hid in. As they moved closer in his vicinity, reality set in that they more or less found him already.

  “Come on out,” one of them ordered. “We know you’re there. No use holding out.”

  With the cat out of the bag, Quin had only one place left to hide, behind his mask. He lowered his eyes while he lowered his second face then he emerged from the bushes.

  As he stepped out, they all stepped back.

  “If you lot don’t want any trouble, than don’t start any,” Quin quietly warned them while he took slow steps away.

  The men were too nervous to make a move, all too perfect for Quin to dash out. As soon as he had enough distance, he turned and booked it back for the hill.

  He only took one skip before he ran out of space.

  Quin couldn’t see what blocked him but he certainly felt it. A solid, transparent wall, as if Quin found himself in a clear building.

  He could even feel a corner all while nature and birds carried on in front of him. The air itself completely boxed him in.

  “So we got a trespasser snooping around huh?” Quin heard behind him.

  He turned to see the braid headed Sentar’i, Arthur as he slowly approached.

  “Awfully far from home for you masked ones, and all by yourself too?” he pointed with no trace of a friendly face.

  Quin moved along the transparent borders as he kept his eyes on Arthur. His hands traveled all along the see-through barricade for any sort of opening.

  “Looking for a way out? Well keep looking cuz you won’t find it inside my [Airbox].”

  It was no use. Just as Arthur said, clear walls trapped Quin inside.

  “That’s the neat thing about us spatial artists, we don’t need no ropes or traps, we can just use the air itself. Don’t get too comfortable, you’ll be on your way to your new home in the next life.”

  Quin took another look around his transpicuous prison before he faced the ground. If he wanted out, he would have to force it. His knuckles played a tune as he readied his hands.

  “Walls made out of air and I’m guessing aura. That is pretty neat,” Quin said as he placed a hand along the [Airbox] one more time. “I can use air and aura too though. Watch this...”

  Quin let out a huge [Gust] right at the walls. From point blank, it had no effect on the [Airbox]. Instead, Quin propelled himself back and he barreled toward Arthur with incredible speed.

  Instincts told Arthur to put up his arms to block, but Quin aimed for a lower target.

  He crouched low in his pounce and he knocked Arthur’s leg right from under him. As Arthur wobbled to retain his balance, Quin advanced.

  He unleashed a barrage of strikes on his unsuspecting opponent. Arthur narrowly blocked every attack as he was constantly pushed back.

  An arm to fend off punches. A leg to fend off kicks. Arthur could only defend while Quin continued his relentless offense.

  Finally, an opening appeared and Quin thrust a boot into Arthur’s gut. His kick pushed the braided Sentar’i back but Arthur stood his ground, ready to go on his own offensive.

  Quin instead jutted an arm to release his [Gust attack] and jounce his opponent back several yards.

  Arthur bounced off the ground in his tumble, but he quickly rose up and kicked off the dirt in his charge at Quin.

  The Tyroviv readied himself for an offensive but before Arthur could even reach him, the [Airbox] made contact first.

  Quin barely caught himself before the invisible force drove him back. Arthur continued to charge ahead while Quin continued to be pushed away.

  Forced into the camp proper, the [Airbox] rammed Quin against a thatched house that nearly toppled.

  He tried to wiggle, he tried to squirm. Pinned between two walls, Quin could only watch Arthur close in.

  Just as his opponent reached arm’s length, Quin felt the [Airbox] disappear. At the last possible second, he twirled out to his left and avoided a charging punch.

  Right against the wall, the two combatants struck at each other with no clean hits when Quin clapped an arm down.

  Arthur’s upper body stood open and Quin sent the tip of his boot right up to his foe’s temple.

  Quin kicked Arthur’s head right through the thatch wall. Arthur wasted no time as he yanked himself out. Still too slow.

  As soon as his opponent faced him, Quin sent out another [Gust] that repelled Arthur out from the camp and into the trees. Its leaves bristled slightly from the disturbance.

  So far, Quin held his own decently in the one on one fight. What he saw out the corner of his eye looked to change all that.

  Up on a small hill just out of camp, the black-nailed Yerps hoisted a large orange flag out to the sea.

  Four of them had to carry the pole as they waved it from side to side. Quin looked out to the waters and surely enough, the boats redirected themselves for the beach.

  It was time to go; Quin made a beeline out of the camp.

  The air stopped him dead in his tracks and he bounced off it to the ground. He looked over and saw Arthur in front of him who simply looked back with squinted eyes.

  Arthur never took a step forward, but with his [Airbox], neither could Quin.

  He tried to race to the side as if to circle around the transparent boundary. Arthur just kept track as he ensured Quin had no way off the beach.

  Quin looked back. The boats moved closer.

  He needed a way to get through the barrier, he chewed over, but he had little time for ideas, he understood. He could ponder over how to address the boats, he thought, but something must be done about Arthur, he concluded.

  Desperation set in. Quin’s head swiveled between his enemy on land and those at sea until he lost it.

  Completely on autopilot, Quin ran up to the tides.

  His boots sloshed through the water as he took deep breaths and charged his aura. Then in one fluid move, he jutted out both arms and released the full vigor of his wind arts.

  A tempest erupted out of his two hands and while its strength dissipated in the travel, it still lifted the nearest boat by its hull.

  It splashed back to the water while the others behind it scattered in disarray.

  Quin bought himself some time. Arthur took it away.

  He sprinted toward Quin and his [Airbox] took the lead. Once more, it forced Quin from where he stood, this time it swept him toward the sea.

  He tried frantically to push it back as he constantly planted his feet against the ground. He felt water travel up his legs.

  As he sank, Quin began to hyperventilate. Then again. Then again. Then again. Until he submerged.

  Arthur didn’t sink with him, the [Airbox] remained above the surface with Arthur above both.

  Quin tried to swim up for air, but the air wouldn’t let him. Arthur just stood over the water and waved at the desperate Quin, likely as a farewell.

  This. Was. Bad.

  Quin had to think fast while oxygen still flowed in his brain. Disaster arrived before the boats and death wasn’t too far behind.

  He should have focused more on the [Airbox] and not the vessels. That’s when he had an idea.

  Quin swam out and away from Arthur, once again with hopes to circumvent the barrier. Arthur chuckled as he watched.

  “Sure. We can play this game,” he uttered in amusement.

  Quin swam and swam and swam all while he tried to break from the surface. His hand escaped water several times before the box knocked it back under.

  Arthur made sure to keep close enough to dash Quin’s hopes.

  He chased after the erratic Tyroviv and blocked all attempts to escape. Quin continued his chaotic rush to outswim the box, his hand banged furiously under the transparent barrier.

  The braided Sentar’i kept his eyes down, eager to watch the final signs of life. He should have kept his eyes forward.

  “Arrthuuurr!!!” He heard from ahead.

  He looked to discover his close proximity to the boats. His [Airbox], too close.

  At once, solid air crashed broadsides with the boats. Arthur lost his concentration, lost his [Airbox] and as a result, lost his footing.

  He smacked into the water while the boats nearby rocked and rolled as the crew aboard did everything to maintain balance.

  The Yerps ashore could only watch the bedlam occur at sea. They looked at each other for a plan before someone emerged from the waters.

  Finally on land, Quin lifted his mask and regurgitated all the seawater he collected. His body convulsed as he took air in and spat water out.

  The Yerps gathered whatever they determined was a weapon and slowly inched for the Cosondere.

  They had him surrounded when he snapped his arm right at them. They flinched and expected to be flown away. Nothing happened.

  “Don’t make me doooo iit!” Quin yelled.

  His eyes were beady with red streaks all over. Snot ran down his face as he bared his teeth. His arm shook while he still had an open palm at the men.

  The crazed look froze the Yerps, they wanted nothing to do with the volatile Sentar’i. That was all Quin needed.

  He made it to his feet before he hopped over the antsy Yerps. His legs cramped and he fell to a knee. The Yerps didn’t pursue.

  With nothing to impede him, he just needed to catch his breath and he would be out free.

  The boats were still all over the place, but the last boat on the scene, the more ornate vessel continued its path.

  The trip took too long for one person aboard and they leaped off from the middle of the sea before they descended to the beach.

  Streaks of gold ran up and down his white pants and sleeveless shirt as the tide rolled up to his feet. Wear and tear showed itself across his aged body.

  The air around him looked dark and a huge sense of dread filled Quin’s heart. It reminded him of the Aerviv and the tense presence he felt in the air, except this felt more dangerous and more fearsome.

  An older man with an intense look, wrinkles and scars dotted around his eyes as they stared directly at Quin.

  Through his efforts, Quin made it out from a potential watery grave and back on land.

  As he looked back at the grim face of this old Sentar’i, he realized that even though he made it out of the water, he was not out of the woods.