text: [Themes: fantasy, fantasy, war, action]
  
  > Continue
  "Form one!"
  
  Rows of children move in unison, reacting to the teacher's instruction. Their feet step at exactly the same moment creating a single, thunderous clap.
  
  "Form two!"
  
  The bodies shift their weight to the side and powerfully weave their hands into a defensive position. Upon movement, the bodies breathe out at exactly the same time.
  
  "Form three!"
  
  The bodies turn to their left and let loose a series of punches and kicks. All except one. You turn right instead of left. The rest of the children break out in laughter over your mistake.
  
  "Acolyte. Stay!" Brother Trevor commands. "The rest of you are on meal prep."
  
  As the room empties, you stand still, ignoring jabs from your passing peers. You stand stiff, unmoving, for fear of upsetting the Brother even more. When the last of your peers exits the room, Brother Trevor addresses you.
  
  "I know you did that on purpose," he spits.
  
  "Did what?" you ask.
  
  Your answer is met with a backhand to your cheek.
  
  "Don't play dumb with me, acolyte. You may not know it, but we have watchful eyes everywhere. I've seen you flow through the forms flawlessly."
  
  "I just messed up is all," you answer, rubbing your cheek.
  
  Your answer is met with another strike knocking you to the floor.
  
  "Admit it," Brother Trevor growls. He begins to walk towards your fallen body.
  
  > admit it
  You feel the ground shake with Brother Trevor's footsteps as he stomps towards you. Just before he arrives, you speak.
  
  "Ok, fine."
  
  "Fine...what?" he prods.
  
  "Fine. I did it on purpose. I thought it'd be funny."
  
  "Well it wasn't," Brother Trevor answers. "One may not reach enlightenment if they are focused on being funny, rather than being disciplined."
  
  You nod.
  
  "Instead of repreminding you, I have a better solution." Your eyes begin to widen at your good fortune. They quickly melt once he continues. "You'll be given extra training hours before sunrise and before you're allowed to sleep. That should instill the forms within your practice. Now go before I add cleaning hours on top of that."
  
  You sprint out of the room so that Brother Trevor cannot make good on his warning. You're moving so quickly that you don't notice the girl in front of you. You both go flying to the floor, and the folded laundry she's carrying scatters all over the floor.
  
  "Damn it!" she exclaims.
  
  "Sorry," you mutter, helping her to her feet. "I'd watch your language if I were you. The monks don't like bad words."
  
  "I heard Brother Samuel say it once. More than once actually," she replies, curling a strand of bright blonde hair behind her ear.
  
  "Me too. But he can get away with a lot more than me," you say. "Hey, I didn't see you training with us. How'd you get away with that?"
  
  "This," she spreads her arms wide at the mess of clothing on the floor. "And I train with the advanced students."
  
  "You do? Can you teach me?" you ask.
  
  "Help me with the laundry first and then ask me," she replies.
  
  > Later that day...
  A flurry of fists thump into your chest. You attempt to block, but each blow keeps you distracted from the next. Her foot follows the series of punches, sending you sprawling to the ground. Still balancing with her leg outstretched, the girl, Kassi, laughs at your misfortune.
  
  "It's a good thing Brother Trevor is making you train more. You could use it."
  
  Unanswering, you pull yourself up and raise your arms defensively. Still smiling, Kassi lunges forward. You cover your face with your hands and hug your elbows in tight to protect your torso. Still, somehow, her strikes find their mark. One left hook finds its way to your temple temporarily stunning you.
  
  "Give up," she says, holding an aggressive stance.
  
  "Never," you reply, still holding your defensive posture.
  
  Shaking her head, she steps forward for another series of attacks. This time you're ready for her. Covering your head and torso, you wait for her offense to begin. As she lets loose another combination, you drive your weight into her. One of your arms underhooks hers, and the other wraps around the far side of her neck. Shifting your hips below Kassi's for leverage, you complete the "head 'n arm" throw and land on top of her. Before she can recover, you toss the underhooked arm aside and press your head into the base of her arm, pinning it against the side of her neck. Connecting both hands together, you begin to squeeze. Your arm around Kassi's neck and her own arm pressed against the other side cuts off her air flow.
  
  "Kassi, tap out," a male voice echoes across the training mat. You look to see Brother Samuel, although you make sure to keep the choke first.
  
  She struggles, gritting her teeth. She tries to strike, but in your dominant position her attack is ineffective. Eventually, her struggling begins to fade.
  
  "That's enough, child," Samuel says walking across the mat.
  
  You release the choke and allow Kassi to sit up, or at least you allow her to. She lies on the mat unmoving.
  
  "She's always been a stubborn one. Devoted, but stubborn," Brother Samuel comments. He kneels down beside her unconscious body and closes his eyes. After uttering words you cannot comprehend, he places his palm on her forehead. Blue light softly glows from the small crevice between his palm and her head. Her eyes burst wide open, and she sits up suddenly.
  
  "Jerk. We were training, not fighting for real," she addresses you.
  
  "I saw an opening and I took it," you reply. "You leave yourself open during your attacks—"
  
  "That's enough you two," Brother Samuel interjects. "You're both right. I think you should continue to train together. Kassi, you're one of our top acolytes. It's almost unheard of for someone your age to train at the intermediate level. You could teach a lot to our friend here. In return, you'll get more experience with a physically stronger opponent."
  
  Your face breaks into a wide grin at the implication you're stronger than her. Brother Samuel turns your direction. "And you, the newest of the acolytes could stand to improve as well. Raw strength will only carry you so far. There's always someone stronger."
  
  > talk to her
  After Brother Samuel leaves the room, you turn to Kassi. "Sorry if I took it too far."
  
  "It's fine. I just don't like losing. Especially to the outlaw," she answers.
  
  "Outlaw?" you question.
  
  She sighs. "That's what some of the other kids call you. Since you aren't one of us."
  
  You understand her meaning. The other kids were brought to the monastery from birth. Your history was unknown to them, and more than a few children near your age were turned down. They don't understand why you're allowed to stay or why Brother Samuel has taken such an interest in you. Part of it could be jealousy, part of it could be the nature of kids. Perhaps a bit of both.
  
  Changing the subject you ask, "How'd you get so good with your forms?"
  
  "Brother Trevor always had it out for me. A lot of extra time in the practice room, I guess. You know I'm related to the Grandmaster, right?"
  
  "No. I thought we're not allowed to have relations."
  
  "Grandmaster didn't. His sister did and she brought me here."
  
  "Where's she now?"
  
  "I don't know, I've never met her."
  
  "Oh."
  
  "I'd stay away from Garth if I were you," she says suddenly. "I think he has it out for you."
  
  "I think he does too," you answer.
  
  > Months later...
  The blindfold around your head prevents you from seeing your footing. You stand on a series of narrow wooden beams. The beams are lifted several feet from the ground. It wouldn't be a fatal fall, but it'd definitely leave a mark.. Focusing your mind, you try to imagine the placement of each beam as you hop between them. Upon each successful landing, you let loose a series of strikes from the practice sword in your hand. As you're no stranger to the balancing structure, you keep your mind highly aware of which beam you're on. Not all the beams are separated evenly apart, and you've witnessed more than a couple unlucky acolytes misjudge their position. Your mind is focused on the task and—
  
  "Are you ready for the Grand Melee?" Kassi asks running up to you.
  
  You lose your balance for a split-second and shakily bring your arms to a "T" shape to regain it. Realizing you're broken from the meditative state, you remove the blindfold and hop down from the balancing beams.
  
  "You interrupted my practice," you comment.
  
  "You wouldn't be able to do that if it wasn't for me teaching you," she replies.
  
  "Fair enough."
  
  "So...the Grand Melee is coming up. Do you know which event you're entering?"
  
  "Not yet. What about you?"
  
  "Unarmed combat, of course. I won it last year."
  
  "I didn't enter last year," you point out.
  
  "True. Enter it then. Unless you're scared."
  
  "Remind me again, what are the different categories?"
  
  "Unarmed combat, form mastery, and dueling."
  
  "Tell me more about..."
  
  > Unarmed Combat
  "Tell me more about Unarmed Combat," you say.
  
  A smile lights up on her face. "It's easily the most fun category."
  
  "Yeah, and?" you prod.
  
  "And they pair you against an opponent in the ring. The winner moves on, the loser doesn't."
  
  "Is it striking only?" you ask.
  
  "No, of course not. Anything goes really. Except attacks on the eyes." she replies. "Do you think you'll enter?"
  
  > enter Unarmed Combat
  "I'm going to enter the Unarmed Combat competition," you say.
  
  "Your funeral," Kassi replies. "Just don't lose before I can teach you another lesson."
  
  She leaves you alone to practice. You slip the blindfold back on and pull yourself onto the beams. With each hop and technique you practice, you imagine facing an opponent in the unarmed competition. You imagine, specifically, each of your peers in front of you and their tendencies. Then, you imagine the counter. An overaggressive striker leaves himself open to a takedown. A grappler looks to grab hold of their opponent, best not to throw many kicks and give them an opening. Brawlers want to drag you into their chaotic mess. Similarly, a disciplined, but inexperienced, fighter might be lost in the chaos and forget their well-practiced techniques.
  
  You lose yourself in the practice until a bell rings, signaling dinner, drawing you out from the trance.
  
  > Meanwhile...
  Brother Samuel hadn't told anyone of the shade's appearance, except for the Grandmaster himself. Deep down, the shade's interest in the boy frightened him. He had the feeling it wouldn't be the last appearance to the boy. The boy's past is a mystery, and ordinarily he would have been turned away from the monastery. Though he didn't show it, Brother Samuel could tell the Grandmaster took special interest in the boy as well. Samuel knew the Grandmaster before he earned the title. Only the Master of Archives could share the same boast.
  
  Brother Samuel reaches his destination: the Grandmaster's private study. The heavy oak door is reinforced with steel, barring unwanted entry. Samuel knows there are other deterrents to keep thieves or renegade monks out. He closes his eyes to focus on the seals. Magic flows from his open palms dispelling the deadly traps. He takes a coin from his pocket and looks at the door's keyhole. He whispers into the coin, and the object transforms into a key. He unlocks the door and flips the key into the air. After several flips in the air, a coin lands into his open palm.
  
  "Still got it, old man," he whispers to himself.
  
  The door swings open revealing a room lined with bookcases. There isn't a single bare wall. As his presence is detected, torches light up illuminating the entire room in their blue glow. Samuel places his cane on the center table and begins to search for the book he came for.
  
  "You shouldn't be here," a voice projects from behind him.
  
  Brother Samuel turns to see a white glowing light. The wisp, the Master of Archives, shines disapprovingly. Not many would be able to tell an approving shine versus a disapproving one, but Brother Samuel is not unaccustomed to the one before him.
  
  "You know I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important," Brother Samuel replies.
  
  "Why not come with the Grandmaster? You are among the few he's invited in," the wisp answers.
  
  Samuel hesitates. He knows the wisp will relay his words and actions to the Grandmaster. "I'm searching for a tome on dark magic. Specifically, on the origins of shades. The Grandmaster is far too busy to help me look for a book."
  
  "We have plenty of history books in the main library."
  
  "This one is not among them."
  
  "What makes you so sure?"
  
  Samuel takes a seat at the center table. He'd been standing too long without his cane. He breathes out an exhausted breath. "Because I've checked. I've spent years carefully working through all the volumes we have in the library. It's not there."
  
  "Very well, follow me. I shall inform the Grandmaster of your intrusion. No doubt, he will reprimand you for your actions. I am no guardian of knowledge. I exist to further it."
  
  Whatever punishment the Grandmaster gave, it would be worth it. Brother Samuel rises from his seat and follows the wisp down the hall of books. The white glow from the Master of Archives, in combination with the blue torch light, casts sinister-looking shadows from angles of differently shapen books. The two arrive at a small section of the bookcase wall. The Master of Archives circles in the air for a moment and then flies directly into the wall. The light vanishes instantly, leaving Brother Samuel alone in the blue.
  
  Brother Samuel stands still for a few moments and then begins to feel uneasy. The thought pops into his head that the wisp could have let him into a trap. He checks the hallway for movement. Nothing. Suddenly, the bookcase swings open and Samuel is face to face with the wisp.
  
  "It's a lot harder to open a doorway without arms," the wisp says.
  
  Brother Samuel frowns. "I don't remember you being funny. Maybe this is a trap," he comments.
  
  The Master of Archives ignores him and flies down the dark staircase. Brother Samuel does his best to follow quickly. The narrow staircase leads into an even narrower hallway and finally to an open room. Several single-bodied cells are against the sidewalls. Samuel gulps and tries to ignore them. The wisp leads him through rows of cells before arriving at a series of pedestals, five of them arranged around a summoning circle.
  
  "The tome is here?" he asks.
  
  "In a manner of speaking," the wisp replies. "Approach the middle pedestal."
  
  Brother Samuel does as he's instructed. On top of the pedestal lies an open scroll. Samuel instantly recognizes the spell's intent. "By the light, I'm to call him to this plane?" he wonders aloud.
  
  "Such knowledge is too dangerous to be written."
  
  "And summoning the dead isn't?" Samuel retorts. "Very well. If this is the only way."
  
  Brother Samuel silently reads the scroll, softly moving his lips as if pronouncing the words. Satisfied at his ability, he speaks the incantation. Nothing happens and he repeats it again. Still nothing. Finally, he shouts the incantation.
  
  Black mist begins to swirl at the circle's center. It begins low and then slowly builds in density and rotation. As quickly as it appeared, the mist dissipates. A lone figure hunches in the summoning circle: Ragar the Unbroken. His skin loosely hangs from his bones, completely absent in many places. The few strands of black hair that haven't fallen out completely dangle near the edge of his shoulders. The left side of his mouth is completely rotted away.
  
  "Why have you called me from the abyss?" Ragar snarls.
  
  "I seek knowledge on shades," Brother Samuel answers. "Knowledge that even the lowliest necromancer would have."
  
  "Shades! Don't insult me, monk. I have no love for petty sorcerers, but even less for devotees of the light."
  
  "You will tell me the knowledge I seek," Samuel commands. He holds out his arm in focus. Blinding light fires from his open palm searing Ragar's cheek. Ragar grimaces in pain and attempts to resist. The magic seals surrounding the summoning chamber amplifies the divine magic. The ray from Samuel's palm grows brighter.
  
  "Tell me what I seek!" Samuel shouts.
  
  A piercing screech projects from the summoned spirit echoing throughout the room. The intensity grows with the ray's brightness. Suddenly, the spirit collapses. The screech, now silent, leaves behind a soft ringing in Samuel's ears.
  
  "Very well," Ragar the Unbroken utters. "Ask your accursed questions and release me."
  
  "I've crossed paths with a shade and—"
  
  "Then you're lucky to still be alive, monk," Ragar interrupts.
  
  Samuel warns him with a look and continues. "Shades are the spirits of the dead in possession of a living being. Is there a reason a shade would be interested in another being? A boy."
  
  "It is not uncommon for the spirit to search for a more powerful host. There is a fine line between choosing to possess a strong host, and being destroyed in the attempt. If the spirit grows too ambitious, they may find themselves facing a being too powerful. That's why shades primarily inhabit sorcerers who overstep in their search for powerful magic.
  
  "I came across a boy being pursued by a shade. I do not understand how the boy resisted its possession.
  
  "Are you sure he resisted?"
  
  > Continue
  "I am sure he resisted the shade," Brother Samuel says.
  
  "That is your concern, not mine. Release me, monk, I have answered all of your questions," Ragar the Unbroken replies.
  
  "I am not finished with you yet," Samuel begins to reply.
  
  "Oh, but you are finished," Ragar the Unbroken cuts him off.
  
  It's at that moment Brother Samuel notices a break in the summoning circle. Ragar the Unbroken strides through the magic seals, gazing intently on Samuel. The monk begins to draw on the magic infused in his cane, but Ragar is quicker. Shadow magic fills the air cutting Brother Samuel's ability to breathe. The magic hangs heavy as if the monk is dragged further and further underwater.
  
  Ragar fires a shadow bolt directly at Brother Samuel's chest. Unable to move in time, Samuel closes his eyes preparing for the end and...nothing. He blinks his eyes open to find a hooded figure beside him.
  
  "Fool!" the Grandmaster shouts while maintaining the protective shield around the two. The medallion around his neck emits a bright white light.
  
  Ragar the Unbroken fires several more shadow bolts towards the monks. Each is absorbed through into the shield. Brother Samuel sees the Grandmaster's eyes squint slightly in concentration, then his eyes turn the same pure white emanating from the medallion. The Grandmaster expertly weaves his arms forward. The energy absorbed into the shield begins to redirect into a ball firing straight towards Ragar. The blast explodes into the wall sending chunks of rock to the floor.
  
  In the aftermath, Ragar the Unbroken is nowhere to be seen.
  
  "Is he dead?" Brother Samuel asks.
  
  "Yes, for centuries," the Grandmaster replies.
  
  Brother Samuel's gaze meets the Grandmaster's gray eyes. "I'm sorry. I had to know," he breaks the silence.
  
  The Grandmaster places his hand on Samuel's shoulder. "My friend, I do not blame you for seeking truth. You were foolish to seek it alone. Come, we will speak on this later. The king's emissaries will soon be arriving for the Grand Melee."
  
  > The Grand Melee
  The day of the Grand Melee has finally arrived. The weeks since your talk with Kassi has been spent preparing for this day. The event takes place on a nearby mountainside. Halfway up the rocky slope, a section of the mountain jettisons out as if the top portion was cut cleanly off. The result is flat-topped overhang, which overlooks the surrounding hills. Many monks trek to the area for prolonged meditation, but today it was meant for combat.
  
  A lifted stage lies in the center of the plateau. The structure is built to be a little smaller than the practice room mats. The stage stands several feet from the ground and has no railing. In each of the melee's categories, if you fall, you're automatically disqualified. You stand next to Kassi in the ready room, although it's more a roped-off enclosure than room.
  
  "Who's that next to the Grandmaster?" you ask her.
  
  Next to the hooded elder stands a man dressed in an armored dark red robe.The crimson robe is reinforced with light plate in several key areas. A sizeable, yet nimble, breastplate is attached to his front and back torso. His shoulders are protected by layered pieces of metal. There doesn't appear to be any armor from his waist-down, with movement prioritized over raw protection. Two short swords hang on his back. Brother Samuel stands near the two. He notices your stare, and gives a friendly wink.
  
  "That's the king's emissary," she replies. "You don't know about the emissary?"
  
  You shake your head.
  
  "During every melee, the King sends a man to scout for warriors. Once a year, one of us is recruited to serve the King."
  
  "He taking one of us?" you ask.
  
  "Of course. The King protects our borders and in return we help protect him."
  
  "I didn't know that," you comment.
  
  "You haven't been here long. Don't worry, he only takes the top warrior. You'll be with us for life," she answers.
  
  You reply with a nasty, but playful look.
  
  Movement catches your eye. Your gaze is drawn to center stage where Brother Trevor begins the announcements.
  
  "Welcome brothers. The time of the Grand Melee is upon us. This is a time where we put our disciplined training to the test. Without trial, we cannot fully understand our strength. The good King Aeric has sent his man, Seth, to observe our progress. This is a time where—"
  
  "Fire!" a monk near the plateau's edge yells.
  
  The cliff's edge becomes crowded as the mountain's inhabitants rush for a viewing spot. From within the monastery's eastern wall, a pillar of smoke rises through the air. Like ants spewing from an anthill, soldiers pour over the surrounding hills charging towards the monastery. Large flaming projectiles fly in the air, their siege constructs hidden by the hills.
  
  "Is this the 'protection' King Aeric offers?" one of the younger members questions.
  
  "Quiet yourself," the Grandmaster interjects. "We have not been overrun in a thousand years. I'll not allow it to happen now."
  
  The Grandmaster steps to the very edge of the cliff. The mountain wind carries his robe as if a cape behind him. His arms move through the air as his lips speak the spell into existence. An outline of a door appears just off the cliff's edge.
  
  "Step through the portal. We must protect our home," the Grandmaster directs. "Lucky for us, King Aeric's emissary is here to help."
  
  One by one, the monks step out over the cliff into the portal. The way their bodies disappear reminds you of dropping a rock into a pond. Seth walks to the portal with his hands on his hips shaking his head. You could imagine his thought: "today of all days..."
  
  Finally it gets to your turn. You begin to step forward and feel a hand stop you. You turn to find Brother Samuel.
  
  "This day has come sooner than I expected, child," he speaks.
  
  "What do you mean?" you inquire.
  
  "Since I brought you in, I knew you were not destined to live a solitary life. I never did tell you about the night I found you."
  
  "What happened?"
  
  You see his face darken, even more than the surrounding monks who were off to battle.
  
  He speaks in a softer tone. "Great evil follows you. I thought you'd be safe here. I don't know why it wants you, but it's coming."
  
  "I— I don't understand," you manage to say.
  
  "You don't have to understand. Stick to your training, and it will guide you through. Now go! We must defend the monastery."
  
  On his final words, Brother Samuel gives you a gentle nudge towards the portal. Hundreds of feet in the air, you take in your surroundings. The hills in front are littered with soldiers. Smoke rises now from several locations in the monastery, your home. There is but one path in front of you.
  
  > take the portal
  Chaos. The portal takes you into the monastery's courtyard. Arriving, you quickly dodge from a flying spear. The bodies of the invading soldiers are beginning to completely cover the courtyard floor. You breathe a sigh of relief when you don't see any fallen monks. The monks appear to be fighting well, but the sheer number from the mountainside is too many to count.
  
  Through the doorway to the main hallway, you see Kassi engaged with several soldiers. Their armor is nowhere as neat as Seth's, if you could call it armor. It's more like rags, with some areas of reinforced leather, than actual armor. The long hair and unkempt beards of the invading soldiers make them seem more animal than man. They fight with the same savagery that you've seen in your encounters with woodland creatures surrounding the monastery.
  
  Not wasting any time, you rush towards Kassi picking up a scimitar from one of the savages. Solely focused on Kassi, you impale the closest invader from the back. The sudden rush of blood and fallen ally alert the others of your presence. Savages on either side of you swing their swords at your head almost simultaneously. Dedicated to your training, you instinctively bend your torso backwards. Two blades fly harmlessly overhead. Recovering upright, you slash one's throat and gouge a deep cut through the other's chest. Now that you've drawn the attention of the others, Kassi picks them apart one at at time. She's only armed with a small dagger, and you realize she's fighting as if unarmed, the dagger striking the killing blow.
  
  "Are you ok, Kass?" you ask.
  
  "You're seriously asking me that? Don't forget who taught you everything you know," she says confidently.
  
  "Ok, sorry I asked. What should we do?"
  
  "I saw Brother Trevor and Seth head towards the library. If anyone knows what to do, it's them."
  
  You make your way through the hallways, fighting off soldiers whenever they come near. Though you are well younger, the soldiers fight with little technique. Their swords moves as if through water. You stick to your training and finish most with a single counter. A slight redirection of their sword leaves them vulnerable to the killing blow. You do not hesitate, even though it is your first time in real combat. You do as you are trained.
  
  After several turns, you arrive to the library's double doors. The library is normally kept spotless, but the inside looks like a hurricane hit the room. Books, bookcases, and bodies cover the floor. In the center of it all, you see Seth. King Aeric's emissary appears to be unfazed by the battle and fights alone, no monks by his side. His red armor looks freshly made still, and then you realize the entire robe is blood-soaked; it's just hidden in the red color. His twin short swords work magnificently together. They glide through the air removing limb and whole heads for those who get too close. He notices you and Kassi and begins to fight his way down toward you.
  
  Arriving near you, and still fighting off several enemies, he shouts. "There are too many of them. We must regroup at Aeric's keep. Gather all who you can and let's flee this place."
  
  "No, we will not abandon our home," Kassi states.
  
  "There's no time to argue, girl! Let's go!"
  
  Seth begins to whisper into a ring on his finger and punches his fist to the ground. Waves of flame fire from the position and sweep into the surrounding soldiers. Kassi screams at the collateral damage. The books in the area instantly light up and the fire begins to spread. With the fire spreading, you exit the library following Seth.
  
  Seth leads you back through the hallways, although in the opposite direction of the courtyard. After a series of twists and turns you end up in the meditation sanctuary. Rows of mats line the open room. A sizeable shrine sits in the center, covered with religious trinkets and sacred flowers. There are no signs of the battle here. Seth walks up to the shrine and examines it.
  
  "I never enter a building without an escape plan. Ah, here we are," he comments.
  
  Seth bends one of the candlesticks near the shrine sideways and pulls another towards him. As he stands back, a low rumble begins from the shrine. Scraping heavily, the top of shrine starts to move to the side. You can see a short staircase from where the shrine used to lay, leading to an underground passageway.
  
  "We must make for King Aeric. If the western border has collapsed, we must inform him," Seth says jumping down. "Come with me. It'd be best to have monk acolytes accompany me to answer any questions."
  
  "We can't just leave. The others need us," Kassi replies.
  
  "All is lost. We can only hope to avenge them. If you decide to stay, you will be choosing death.
  
  "I'm not going," Kassi firmly states.
  
  "What about you?" Seth asks. "Answer quickly, we haven't much time."
  
  > go with Seth
  "I'll go with you," you say.
  
  "What!" Kassi yells. "Fine, go ahead and leave us. You were never really one of us anyway."
  
  "You don't mean that," you answer.
  
  "Enough talk, kid," Seth intervenes.
  
  You attempt to give Kassi a hug, but she backs away. You notice her eyes beginning to tear up, but she turns and runs before they can fall. Sounds of the battle echo into the meditation room. The soldiers have almost made their way to your position.
  
  "Come on, let's get out of here," Seth breaks the silence.
  
  You follow him down the short steps into the narrow tunnel. There isn't any visible light, so Seth pulls a candle from beside the shrine and takes it with you. You march along in silence and near darkness. The occasional rat scurrying by is the only change in setting. After a few hours, the tunnel begins to incline slightly and you feel a subtle breeze. By now, the candle has long burned out. You follow behind Seth with your arms in front, grazing his back for direction. You keep your steady pace until he stops, suddenly, causing you to bump into his back.
  
  "Here we are," he utters, more to himself than you. A single rope hangs down in front of you. Looking up, you see a glimpse of a round opening way above you. It must be at least twice as high as the monastery's walls.
  
  "Are you sure this is safe?" you ask.
  
  "More safe than staying within the monastery walls," he answers. "I'll climb first. Once I get to the top, I'll shake the rope. We better go one at a time just in case. Don't worry, kid. If it holds my weight, it'll hold yours too. Try to use your legs as much as possible to keep your grip from tiring. Alright, see you at the top."
  
  You're left alone in the dark, save for the small light above you. Now that things have settled a bit, you finally have time to think about the events that just happened. How could an entire army show up almost out of thin air? Kassi said King Aeric was supposed to protect the monastery. Why didn't his army show up? Then it hits you. Everyone you know is dead. Kassi, Brother Samuel, even Garth is gone. You are alone.
  
  The rope begins to shake signaling your turn. You take a deep breath and begin to climb up. Your new life was about to begin.
  
  > Chapter 2: War Refugee
  The discipline instilled in me at a young age was the main force behind my success. Others, perhaps, were more naturally talented than I. Not to say I wasn't gifted; I definitely felt suited for this life, but my unwavering devotion to the practice set me apart from others. There were times in my early life I wished for a different fate.
  
  Life is hard enough without constant physical stress. Each time those thoughts would rise, I would force myself back to my practice, back to my true being. The fact is, those thoughts were born of my lesser, weak-willed nature. My training is meant to suppress the weakness inside.
  
  Seth was not a father figure, at least not in the same way I viewed Brother Samuel. With Samuel, I could tell he had my best interests in mind. Seth's motivations were unclear, though they mostly revolved around himself. I wonder if his influence guided me to a better path. If you do not understand the influence others have on your actions, you are like a ship without a navigator. I studied the actions and motivations of those around me and introspectively meditated on their affect. I do not allow impurities into my system and that includes the impure actions of others.
  
  > The War Room
  "Another unsuccessful breach!"
  
  "Ha! Those empire dogs are all bark, no bite."
  
  "We should not be overconfident. We have nowhere to run should the empire find a way inside."
  
  "This keep has never been conquered. The walls would hold firm even if the Emperor himself shows up."
  
  "And what of the nation's people? They are at the mercy of the Empire."
  
  "They must understand our position. The storm of the empire must be weathered before any counter-attack can be mustered. They must endure."
  
  The throne room of King Aeric is ablaze with news of the most recent attack. For more than a decade, the Empire's troops have tried, and failed, to capture the nation's capital. King Aeric's keep sits at the top of a mountain. It's a nightmare for the king's mobilization, but even worse for attacking armies. The keep sits at a high enough elevation that Aeric's mages can easily pull the moisture in the air into drinkable water. The magically created food is an acquired taste, but it's definitely better than starving.
  
  "It's been long enough. We should start on the offensive!"
  
  "We should not decide hastily. One wrong plan could ruin us all."
  
  The room again erupts in debate. In the past years, you've become accustomed to the ale-empowered arguments of Aeric's war council. You imagine Brother Samuel would enjoy these types of debates. The thought brings a tinge of sadness to your mind, but you quickly focus on your breath to clear the emotion.
  
  "Psst."
  
  You turn to see Estella, one of the apprentice mages. Her red curls stick out from behind the column.
  
  "What is it? We're in the middle of a meeting," you whisper, backstepping towards her nonchalantly.
  
  "Can you break away? I need your help with something."
  
  > Stay
  You take your original position in the council and notice Seth giving you a look. He doesn't hold it for long, though, apparently just wanting you to know he's aware of your absence. You give him a slight shrug in acknowledgement.
  
  "So, Seth, can the raid be successful?" King Aeric asks through an ale-filled beard.
  
  Seth pulls a stray hair from his armored robe. "Of course, my king. The Emperor's troops have gotten lazy in the past few years. I'm sure they're just waiting us out until the Empire can free up more troops for a grand-scale siege. Right now, they're content keeping us walled in. I'd be surprised if they're even running drills down there."
  
  Another man, wearing the same colors as Seth chimes in. "Still, we must not act too hastily. If surprise is our best ally, we'd be foolish to squander it at an inopportune time."
  
  King Aeric addresses the new speaker. "Mordecai, you've remained quiet until now. Tell me what you think."
  
  The man, Mordecai, looks around the room. His long hair tied behind his head melts into the top of the robe. You can tell he hasn't shaved in quite some time, despite the lack of full beard. Even though he wears the same robe as Seth, the attire of King Aeric's inner circle, his personal upkeep is well the opposite of the clean-cut Seth.
  
  "I say patience, my king," Mordecai says. "Let the Empire waste resources and manpower sitting at the bottom of our mountain. Eventually there will be a time to strike, but I'm not so certain it's now. We can last here for many years."
  
  Seth shakes his head in disagreement but doesn't speak out.
  
  "I will make a decision in the morning. Dismissed," King Aeric says, picking up the jug of ale.
  
  The council members bow to the king and crowd towards the door. Seth makes straight for you, pushing aside an elderly advisor.
  
  "You, boy, follow me," he says and exits the room, not waiting for your reply. The elderly advisor that was gently guided off course raises an eyebrow at you as if to say you better get going. You chase after Seth.
  
  > Following Seth
  Seth strides quickly through the castle hallways. You follow at the same pace a distance behind him. You know he prefers to walk in silence, so there's no point in running to catch up to him. He leads you down a familiar path; you arrive at the castle training grounds.
  
  The room is much more luxurious than the practice room in the monastery, though that is the case for nearly every room in the castle. It is a castle, after all. Various weapons line the room, neatly placed on racks. Cloth towels are folded in the corner to wipe down sweat and equipment after use. It definitely made for a less musty smell than the practice room in the monastery. Something about the place felt fabricated, almost too orderly. Your brief experience with combat already revealed the chaotic nature of war. Keeping the place where you train for battle clean feels a little wrong like untrained nobles in extravagant armor.
  
  Seth, still silent, pulls two wooden swords from the wall. You expect him to toss one to you, but instead, he charges forward weaving the swords into an attack pattern. You dodge a swipe near your head, and block closely followed second with your bracer. Immediately, you push Seth back with a kick in order to gain some distance.
  
  Seth gathers himself and goes on the offensive again. He arcs the practice blades low and swings high. You roll to your side and pull the nearest training weapon from the wall. A staff. You spin the staff in front of you to feel the weight and balance of the weapon. Then you hold it in a defensive position, readying for Seth's next attack.
  
  "Good, you've learned to adapt. Remember when I first brought you here? You danced around the room like a ballroom dancer. Running only guarantees your survival for a short while," Seth says.
  
  "Short while? It's been ten years," you reply, thinking of the monastery.
  
  "That is why we must strike!" Seth pleads. "You can only remain defensive for so long. Eventually, and it will happen, the castle will be overrun. I'm not going to sit here and waste away. I'm gathering a small attack force. I hope you'll join us, kid. Meet me back here at midnight if you're in."
  
  Seth drops the two wooden swords on the floor, not bothering to place them back on the wall. He exits the training grounds. You're left alone to decide your course of action.
  
  > meet at midnight
  Seth hasn't steered you wrong yet. True, he isn't a typical role model – he breaks far too many rules to call him that, but his loyalty and devotion is unwavering. Those, truly, are what you try to imitate. His actions may be questionable at times, but his character never is. Still, you understand your role. Seth is the teacher and you are the student. It is your duty to follow his instruction – and leadership. You finish training by meditating on the task ahead, visualizing the upcoming battle.
  
  Once night falls, you return back to the training grounds and find Seth along with others.
  
  "Glad you could make it," Seth whispers. "There's a window of sorts that's our way out. Hope you enjoy a good climb."
  
  You follow him through the castle hallways, tip-toeing, moving as quiet as dozens of men can. The south end of the castle faces sheer mountainside. Your way out isn't really a way out; it's more like a fool's errand and Seth confidently writes it at the top of his "to do" list. One of the men with you has knowledge of various traps along the way and disables them with ease. The "window" looks more like an empty doorway. If not for the deadly traps along the way, you'd think the opening to be an accident waiting to happen.
  
  You peer out the opening to view the landscape. It's too dark to see the ground. While extremely high up, you can see jagged pieces of rock sticking out from the mountainside serving as natural hand-holds. One by one, members of the raiding party cautiously lower themselves out the window.
  
  "Good thing it's dark, otherwise this'd be a terrifying view," someone beside you comments. The wind takes most of his words away from you. You find it's not a difficult climb as long as you preserve your energy. Not knowing how far you needed to go is reason enough to save your strength. The unknown enemy below only adds to it.
  
  Everything seems to be going fine and then a piece of rock crumbles from the mountainside, sending one of the men screaming to his death below. He desperately reaches out for a hand-hold or someone to catch him. His hand finds your shoulder, pulling you from the rock. After several seconds, your body hits the ground. You don't feel a thing.