The Book of Ten

“There weren’t always dragons in the valley, they arrived shortly after the migration of the Aetherians; Our diverse energies attract the dragons.” Brook Sneered.

I had expected this curveball, the conversation had been civil for a while now. With a deep breath, I steeled myself for the brunt of the helmsman's indignation.

“Diverse energy?” The helmsman began mockingly, though he concluded the two words as a question. Having diverted the helmsman’s anger into curiosity, I let out my breath, then couldn't help but try and catch Brook’s glance to see if I could find pride in his eyes from this success.

“Dragons thrive off the conflicting tensions between those exerting mana,” Brook answered. The helmsman squinted with confusion I couldn't help ease with my spiritual voice as I didn't quite understand it myself. Brook had attempted to explain it to me time and time again, eventually conceding that it’s something I would figure out with real-world experience.

“Nonsense, nonsense that is!” The helmsman claimed after failing to mull it over.

Smug, albeit with anxiety that Brook would not have noticed my previous success, my eyes were still trying to catch Brook’s glance. The remainder of my mental faculties were reeling with how I could help explain Brook’s theory; it was a moment of complete lack of focus.

“Worry not, I wouldn't expect an orc to understand.” Brook delivered with a lash of disdain. After the words, I had earned his glance, not from pride but rather as taunting disappointment for my smugness and ensuing lack of concentration.

Caught off-guard for the crucial time I should have been preparing a defense, the helmsman absorbed and reflected offense. “That so bird? Reckon you be smarter than us, do ya?” The helmsman bellowed. Lost in aggression, he began to radiate a vigorous aura. “think so?”

Fighting past the immediate notion to feel disappointed in myself, I resolved to steer the conversation back toward civility. My habitual response to aggression is to expend spiritual space “saether” in order to allow aggression to dissipate into the broader emotional spectrum. However, while I was performing this exertion, I recalled the helmsman's words and produced a more direct solution. If I treated Brook’s attack as if it were a question, I could narrow the saether toward understanding. It was riskier but I feared failing Brook once again.

I let go of the saether too quick and the amount of energy required to divert the helmsman’s fury was greater than expected, yet I attempted it anyway, resulting in a highly perceptible spiritual burst, the likes of which had the helmsman looking back at me suspiciously; for the first time finding it strange how close I stood behind him.

The daggers of Brook’s and the helmsman’s eyes staring me down flustered me. In a panic, I continued the defense using my physical voice. “The orc soul cannot exist within the realm of meaning… thus we are not able to intuit the tensions specific to the expenditure of mana, as orcs cannot channel mana.”

My heart raced as the helmsman mulled this over. After a moment his head bounced with subtle nodding, he gazed back toward Brook, brow furrowed just enough to imply he was incensed, but would give it up if Brook showed apology.

“Thank you Ten,” Brook began. “I did not intend to imply anything regarding intellect. As I cannot comprehend the depth of an orc’s vigorous fire, an orc cannot intuit the nature of manic tension. Each perceives the Aethers in their own capacities and cannot comprehend senses they do not possess.” Brook’s voice was soothing, helping set the board back to peace.

“‘Aight then, assummin' what your sayin’ is true. ‘m still not convinced dragons exist in the first place. Would have heard of such powerful creatures wouldn’t I then?” The helmsman queried, reverting the conversation back to the initial question asked an hour ago.

Brook hmmed with annoyance and explained again, “Of course not, dragons are creatures of uncanny intelligence and do not desire their own discovery. They are as the whisperleech, happily feeding, invisible as to avoid being plucked.”

“Aye ’m not sayin’ any of it isn’t trackin’, it’s that…” The helmsman continued to argue, meanwhile, a shiver ran down my spine, ears perking to attention eyes widening. It took only a few seconds to be sure, she was approaching down the path behind me.

My feet began to tap and pace and my training melted entirely into expending saether.

Something Brook said incensed the helmsman. The helmsman was “growing tired of” something, Brook then said something snarky again, I could tell Brook was annoyed with me; which stung, it really did.

My mind fell helpless into focus on the aura behind me until I remembered to glimpse ahead of me. The helmsman was staring at me, perplexed by my fierce grip of the saether and childish pacing. I caught my attention forward long enough to ask Brook to be excused.

Brook scoffed then chuckled. It seemed he wasn’t so mad after all, but the scoff hurt. It felt as if-

“Go to her.”

Brook's command broke my inner dialogue in a snap and I turned on a shekel, breaking into a run. “Hahna!” I called for her “Ha-” I tripped on a rock, catching myself on fours, gaining speed, then pushing back up to twos right before our noses touched. Our eyes locked for a moment and I gasped at the sight of her. Bright orange fur which perpetually rippled with vigorous fire, short stubby ears, a large funny nose that sat firmly and still, though she would scrunch and wiggle it dramatically to make me laugh, her face always smiling, smiling at me.

We soon fell into a dance, pulling ourselves through its steps more on muscle memory than focus. I could have closed my eyes if they weren't so fiercely enraptured with her movements. Our dance ended in what always felt was far too soon; so we feigned the game of chasing each other’s tails that we would play as children, then we laughed.

“Hahna…” the laughing gently fell into pouting, then crying. I dove into her embrace. There I felt nestled warmly as if in a burrow dug just for me. She was near twice my size now, she being large, even for a female, and I particularly small, even for a male; it was one of the stark differences between us that drew each other as friends.

“Tell me your sorrow.” She scrawled in Liignas, the language of the orcs.

“I will miss you when away from you, it is an immense time away from you.” I scrawled in return.

“What is sorrowful?” She asked in Chiracle, the common language of the Chirans.

“Brook is not proud of me when I am good, he is only mad when I make mistakes. I left something in my burrow and wanted to get it but Brook-"

“Atma” She interrupted me, not believing my rambling. I had already revealed my true feelings in scrawl so I repeated my previous scrawl several times.

“I comprehend you.” She scrawled with comforting care.

“I know.” She said at the same time, squeezing me tight.

We purred together until the turbulence of our spirits died down.

From where I was held I could make out an outline of a basket hanging from Hahna’s carrier. “What's this,” I asked to break the silence, gesturing to her back. She eased out of our embrace in order to retrieve three baskets from her back.

“Things Aarok wanted me to give you.” She handed me the baskets.

“Aarok?” I mimed back with confusion that grew into frustration. The frustration surprised me as it spiraled into a rage so great that I started scrawling a simple sentiment that meant, “I am angry and hurt.” It ended with a snarl loud enough that Brook would notice from the port. He would be disappointed in me for this show of rage, saying something about how anger weakens the flow of my soulpower. I felt embarrassed after showing such uncontrolled emotion. Hahna was visibly surprised. I steeled myself back from anger, ears sinking low with shame.

Hahna scrawled “Tell me your sorrow.” And looked at me, the out-of-control monster.

“ I am leaving for such a long time and still he does not wish to see me?” I stifled, voice broken with frustration

“Your father is proud of you Atma, he wanted me to tell you that.”

“Proud of me? Now that I’ve been called to Seventhport? Because Has Yi acknowledged me? Now father acknowledges me? They both know me the same, someone Brook believes in, someone with a weird power. They do not know me. They want to use me. They want to study me. Father is sending me away, I do not belong here.” I was rambling, my voice eerie and dead, my tears were already spent on sorrow for Hahna so I had no more and there was only bitterness.

By the middle of my monologue, Hahna had me in another embrace, she scrawled empathetically and whispered to me “It is okay, I understand”

“How could you understand? You are cherished in the dens, they would not allow you to go even if Yi personally called for you.” My heart sunk low as I heard myself. What I said was true, yet it was harsh and bitter.

This was another of the stark differences between Hahna and me. I was abandoned by my clan for my apparent weakness. She was celebrated for her apparent strength. She would tell me that this attention overwhelms her, that she feels trapped in Trisan and hated how people treated her; like she was a shiny chunk of mysterious ore and not a living, breathing orc.

It already haunted me to think the last thing I would say to her taunted her insecurity. “Hahna, forgive me I-”

She nodded and repeated, “I understand” a few times until it lingered out, then she let me go.

There was an awkwardness between us.

In an attempt to fill this awkwardness I began to sort through the baskets. The first contained a sheathed sword. I unsheathed it and instantly recognized the blade. My mother's arcanimus, I hadn’t seen it in so long I hadn't realized a sheath was constructed for it.

The blade would be longer than my arm if it were fully intact, however, a third of the blade had broken off sometime in my mother’s adventures. “My mother had eleven children. I, the youngest, never imagined would be the one to hold the artifact of her soul”

Hahna hadn’t realized the significance of the blade. Her soul, located firmly within the chemical realm, could not sense the spiritual energy it radiated. “Oh!” She exclaimed, perking up with a charming curiosity that cut the tension between us. “What was her soulpower?” she pressed.

“I'm not sure, no one has used this blade since her death. I hear she fought with demons. “

Hahna scrawled a tease. “It is no wondering that no one uses it. It is small and plain and has no hilt” Hahnas's first language wasn’t Chiracle. Her Chiracle often contained inaccuracies, mistakes I should have helped her with, though I found these mistakes charming and it was easy enough to understand her.

“Yes, it lacks a menacing flamboyance we are typically so fond of doesn’t it?”

Hahna nodded, quickly switching her attitude trying not to lay criticism too harshly on my mother's gift “It is beautiful! The sheen, what is it made with?”

Hahna was a gifted blacksmith, she trained in Trisan’s central smithy, so it surprised me that she didn’t recognize the dark crimson metal. However, the only reason I knew of the metal was because of this blade. The Chirans covet the metal and very little of it has made its way so far south. “That's the thing,” I began, holding up the blade to reach the light as it peaked just beyond the mountain. The broken tip glowed brilliant red with the light of Betan “It’s never been used because it cannot be repaired, it is adamantium.”

“No way,” Hahna responded with confident haste. “Adamantium cannot be broken.”

“Th-” My attempt to respond to the nature of this mystery was interrupted by Brook cawing for me to return to him.

“Th-”

“Why are you on twos?” Hahna interrupted this time as we made our way back to the port.

“Brook says it presents me as less threatening and more relatable to the other races.”

“Oh,” Hahna responded, sounding a tad unnerved by the sentiment. “You look funny carrying that on twos, you use my carrier if it is desired.”

I chuckled, “Thank you, it’s not far though.” I said this, yet proceeded to hook the bags to her carrier anyways. First the sword, I knew what that was, then the basket, which I could smell was full of meat and bread. I checked the last basket to confirm it was what I assumed it was, a child-sized heatsuit. Trisan was the southernmost point of haven, the hottest point. Our destination was Seventhport, the northernmost and therefore coldest point of Havan. Being such southern beings, orcs are not adept at bearing such temperatures. My hopes that a custom fit heatsuit would be made for me were dashed, however, the sword made this disappointment seem trivial now. I stuffed the suit back in its basket and placed it on the carrier just as we arrived back to port.

With the rise of Betan, it was nearly time to set out. The rest of the crew had arrived in our absence and were loading crates into the vessel to be shipped to Scriit, the orc outpost village closest to the island.

Brook was fixing to greet us before Hahna caught onto something about the helmsman’s aura. She nuzzled softly at his shoulder scrawling, “I sense your frustration.”

“Jeka, poor Jeka. they have pushing you around? ” She asked the helmsman.

This surprised the lot of us, though It shouldn’t have been a surprise; it is like making a fire near dry leaves and being surprised that the forest is ablaze. Hahna has an uncanny perception of vigorous aura. I imagined she could feel pulses of its exertion lingering around Jeka, telling the story of how Brook and I toyed back and forth with his anger.

Jeka and Hahna scrawled together. It was a subtle scrawling, nearly impossible to distinguish at this distance. Jealousy rose up within me that had me tapping a foot against the ground. Having been abandoned by my clan, I never learned to scrawl with such finesse.

The scrawling had Brook feeling nervous so he began an attempt at an explanation. “Hahna, Jaka and-”

“Jeka.” Hahna interrupted. “His name is Jeka. Learn and remember others’ names, it shows your care for them. You should not treat others like this; training at the cost of their anger.”

I hadn’t bothered to learn Jeka’s name either. My body felt stiff with shame, as if I had let Hahna down even though she wouldn’t know I too had failed. Seeing Hahna’s compassion inspired me to do better next time.

“Training? What's this then?” Jeka queried, brow furrowed, brimming with a stew of hurt emotion. Feeling the spiritual turmoil swell, I lifted my head from the shame I was feeling to maneuver back into spiritual exertion.

“Listen.” Brook cawed to me. Which meant he didn’t want me interfering saetherically. This was a good call, Jeka was pacing, on high alert for any aetheric manipulations. Backing away and slouching at ease seemed to reflect more calm in Jeka than any manipulation I could think to exert. After training all morning it was nice to just relax for once.

“I sincerely apologize, Jeka. What Hahna tells you is true.” Brook continued. “Ten is a spiritualist and I am his mentor. Ten’s soulpower drives dialogue towards constructive communication and conflict resolution. I thank you, in that our conversation provided us with an excellent opportunity for Ten to practice his art.”

This only expanded the depth at which Jeka felt insulted and used. Jeka pointed his finger at Brook and opened his mouth to express his hurt, however, Hahna intervened. “Brook, you are honest and apologize. In the future, you will considering others carefully.” She then scrawled reassurance to Jeka.

Jeka scoffed, then let it go. “Where ya lot headed anyhow?”

“Seventhport,” Brook responded, fetching a flamboyant letter from his purse. He produced a letter stamped with the seal of the Seventhport High Council of Wizards. “The High Council has been convinced that Ten’s power may be pivotal in unveiling the dragons and have called for him to appear to meet at city hall in one month's time, after which he will be educated at the prestigious Seventhport University of Wizardry.”

“The High Council believes in dragons?” Jeka finally got in after the long-winded explanation.

“Hmm…. Yes, they do. And they are receptive to the idea there may be more than one within Havan. You are aware there is a dragon just there atop Mount Tinsidae, are you not?”

“‘asn’t been proven,” Jeka responded indignantly. It wasn’t too uncommon for people to question the existence of Du’wirst, the dragon atop Mt. Tin, no one had ever reached the summit, let alone seen its peak. However, one could clearly hear Du’wirsts cries even from the island. It was more obvious to me because I felt Du’wirst’s presence in my dreams and intuited things about their mountain that I couldn't have known, having never visited the valley. This intuition is what sparked Brooks' endeavor to train me and subsequently communicate his observations to Seventhport.

Brook rolled his eyes, “Well… It is our hope that we may enlighten the world to these devious creatures”

Jeka let out a gentle exasperation and turned to the ship “well come on then, we are fixin’ ta set out. Get on with ya!” He motioned for us to board the vessel.

“Ah, has the captain arrived?” Brook responded, scanning the area.

“I am the captain,” Jeka replied with a hearty snicker.

“Oh, I apologize I thought-”

“Thought what? That a male can’t be a captain? You are aware that the orcs have a male chief now, are you not? Times are changing.” Jeka taunted

Brook was flustered, something he was uncomfortable being. “I… apologize, I’ll be on board.”

Brook took his things and left to board the ship. He whistled for me to follow after him, though I stayed. I had to say final farewells to Hahna.

However, before farewells, I felt compelled to follow up on something I had just learned. “You are really the captain?” I asked Jeka with stars in my eyes.

“Sure am! No need to make a big deal of it or anything. Captaining a ship is a precision endeavor after all. Why should it be so strange for a male to have the job?” He ruffled my forehead playfully. “Believe in yourself kid.”

Being called kid caught me off guard, though I was just recently fully grown. It occurred to me that Jeka was quite a bit older than me, his fur greying at the tips. “Thank you,” I responded, not sure what else to say.

“Go on then, get yourself on board.” He left me with a wink as he turned to start barking orders at his crew, who were loading the ship.

My smile mellowed out as I turned to face Hahna. “Well, I suppose this is… goodbye?” I was cut off by the realization that Hahna had slunk off from behind me.

After a quick scan of the area, I found her by the dock picking up two crates to be loaded onto the ship. I doubt I could lift a single one of those crates. On fours this time, I hurried up to her. “Hahna! So helpful Hahna.” I said with a purr. “This is not necessary. It is time to say goodbye.”

“It is good, we can say goodbye on the ship.”

“Y-yes, we can, that is fine,” I told her as I followed her onto the ship. In my mind, I had imagined an emotional final embrace on the beach, but this was fine too. It really wasn’t important.

“Uhmm hmm” Hahna seemed conflicted, nervous about something. “I will put these things in cargo. I will be back in a short time.” She laid down my baskets by a railing as we boarded Jeka's ship

“It is okay, I can follow-”

“Ten, there you are! I had called for you quite a while ago.” Brook interrupted.

“Ten, sit down, she will be back.”

I paced anxiously with both feet and mind, caught between chasing after Hahna and obeying my mentor. After Hahna disappeared into the belly of the ship, I gave up on that option and sat beside Brook. “I haven’t said goodbye-”

“You have, and even if you hadn’t. It isn’t an excuse for disobedience.”

“I-” I couldn't look at him, frustrated that he wouldn’t give me any leeway even though it was out last day on the island. Yet, shame and disappointment in myself washed over me. “I-”

“You have been combative all morning, it’s not like you.”

It wasn't like me. My head dropped, filled with the realization of how I was breaking the trust cultivated between us. Brook took me in when everyone had left me for dead and I felt as though I was betraying him.

Everyone but Brook, and Hahna…

I told myself she will return.

Static lingered in the air. After a while, I guessed this static was the exhaust of mana.

It must have been, the static was emanating from Brook. Brook never used his power so it was hard to recognize.

The island I had lived the entirety of my life on is called “Mt Malice” by outsiders. It is called so because it is laden with a metal called “Malicium.” The metal disrupts the channeling of mana. Orcs found this Island and made it their capital primarily because of this tactical advantage.

Brook looked elated, his face as if a child partaking in a game he hadn’t played in so long.

This drew a smile to my face. He was happy. I like when Brook is happy; it Usually means that he is proud of me for something I did.

Curiously, I asked brook what his soulpower is. Lost in an intense concentration he managed after a while to explain to me that he wanted to tell me, but that it would not be a good time at this moment.

He smiled at me, I smiled back.

The wind shifted.

I no longer felt Hahna’s Aura. The smile on my face faded into a concerned grimace. Increasingly frantically I scanned the area for her. I turned back to Brook. He appeared to be exhausted, possibly in pain.

“Are you alright?”

“Just fine,” he responded shortly.

It had been over an hour since Hahna had entered the ship. I became worried as the anchor was raised and sails unfurled. The boat just beginning to drift from the dock. “Hahna-”

“She left during our conversation. It seemed she couldn’t bear another emotional farewell.”

“Oh,” I responded, less pained than I felt internally. Confused, I opened my mouth to ask another question but soon realized Brook had fallen asleep. His last sentence was strained, it seemed to be the last he could muster.

I sat there in my hurt and confusion as we drifted further and further from Trisan. This would soon be broken by the realization that I was thirsty. We had been training all morning and hadn't taken the time to drink.

On fours, I walked toward the closest person I could find. “Water?” I asked her.

She was distracted by her duty managing the sails. “Have not been on ship?”

“No?” I responded as a question, briefly confused by her broken Chiracle.

“Is down both stairs… are you good?” She asked, noticing my sullen nature.

Cooing with a fake happy scrawl, I left toward the stairs, not desiring a conversation.

Just before I turned the corner down the second flight of stairs my ears perked. I turned to face the room I guessed was the cargo hold. Staring into the dimly lit room, I felt stunned there. My heart was sunken low but my ears betrayed me, perked with delight. Before I knew it, I found myself plodding curiously forward. I didn’t understand why, it just seemed compelling. My ears twitched as I neared the center of the room, the path blocked by crates. “It couldn't be,” I whispered as realization flooded through me. Soon I was crawling over boxes, searching frantically until-

“Hahna?”

Behind a crate in the back of cargo Hahna was meditating to hide her aura. She was so lost in this mediation she couldn't perceive my initial call to her.

“Hahna!” I repeated with hushed excitement. She woke this time and pulled herself back as if frightened.

“Hahna, how are you here? You left.”

Having not left, Hahna didn’t know how to respond to that, instead, she began to explain her presence “I hate Trisan, I want to leave, And-”

“You can’t leave Trisan, Aarok forbids it, he covets you.”

“I do not care, I will go with you. I will protect you. We will have adventures together.”

“Hahna, Aarok has already assigned me an escort into the valley. Gilda is waiting for me at the port of Scriit. You have great strength but cannot match her, Gilda is a legend in combat. You are… You are gentle. Gilda is aware of your value to Aarok and this venture will only cause trouble for you. This is impossible” The monologue felt practiced because more than anything I wanted Hahna with me in my travels, so I had played out endless scenarios in my mind in the coming weeks up until my leave. These scenarios were all rightfully rationally crushed under the weight of this desire’s sure and inevitable failure. She couldn't see this and her hope would surely hurt her, she needed to understand.

Unintentionally I had let loose a large reserve of spirit into the saether in my attempt to convince her. I knew this venture was foolish and I couldn’t bear to see her hurt.

Hahna curled up under the weight of my attack. I hated that I used such exertion to help her understand, she would inevitably resent this intrusion, yet as we drifted further from the port, haste was crucial. “Hurry, we have just barely left, you can easily swim.”

“You do not comprehend,” She scrawled.

Her response caught me surprised. I could tell she comprehended the foolishness of this endeavor, I made sure of that. Yet still, she rebelled.

“I can not leave you,” She followed up, unraveling something from her carrier. She was beginning to pout as the carrier fell apart. The spine of the carrier was revealed to be a blade, expertly crafted and concealed. This told me that she had been planning this escape for a while.

The blade was sharp and impressive but it wouldn’t be enough. “This will not defeat Gilda,” I told her.

“You do not comprehend,” She repeated her scrawl.

I shook with confusion, yet something about the gleam in her eyes beckoned me to wrack to understand my miscomprehension.

When I finally did, it struck me like a knife through the heart. The handle of the blade that Hahna had forged was constructed using the crutch I needed as a child. Tears welled up in my eyes, brought up by memories of our childhood together. Through the years she would continually reforge that crutch to fit my needs, she has always been there for me. If Hahna desired to leave Trisan, I would do everything in my power to help her, even if it was impossible, I owed this to her.

“I can not leave you alone with him,” She continued, stifling through fearful emotions.

I had thought I comprehended but I was confused again. “Who, Brook?”

“You do not comprehend,” She scrawled twice more.

“You can not-” She started

I grabbed her hand, together holding the crutch. I looked into her eyes and smiled. “I do not comprehend, but I will try my best. We will find a way, together.”I hadn’t faith that we would, yet I felt at peace with uncertainty for the first time in my life. I gripped her hand tight as I felt the wind catching the sails and accelerating us with haste from everything we have ever known.