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Armando examined the blue and silver papier-mâché mask he held, wondering if he should have chosen a different one.
Izdahl came up behind him, peering at him in the full-length mirror. “You look incredible.”
Armando wore Nitelvosa clothing based on the fashion from two thousand years ago. The Amasi colors of silver, blue, and maroon had been cleverly woven into the design to create a flattering outfit.
They’d be attending a play that night about mistaken identities. The audience was invited to dress up in clothing from the time period the play was written. Everyone could also wear masks.
Armando grinned as he put on his mask that covered the upper half of his face. “Do you like this?” He turned to Izdahl. “Or should I wear one that covers my entire face?”
“Go with this, since your mouth’s still available to me.” Izdahl kissed him. “Quite convenient.”
“Of course you’d say that.” Armando laughed at Izdahl’s lecherous grin. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Two hours later, after enjoying the clever and humorous play, Armando and Izdahl were backstage speaking with the cast.
Armando was in the middle of listening to stories of wardrobe malfunctions, when someone brushed by him in the hallway. A shiver went up his spine. His chest tightened and he felt a strange pull of energy. Without realizing it, he rushed off and headed away from Izdahl. Unsure why, Armando was driven by the compelling need to find the source of the chaotic energy. He was experiencing the same feeling as when the statue’s shield had dropped. The same one as a few weeks earlier, when he’d been walking back to his company, after strolling in the park.
He hurried down a hallway that had dimmed lighting and very few humans and Nitelvosa. Taking a left, he headed into a darker hallway and almost knocked down someone. He hastily apologized and then continued to chase the energy source. A figure in a dark suit rushed away from him. The figure pushed open a side door and paused, seeming to wait for Armando to get closer. Armando rushed forward with his left hand outstretched. Heat seared his arm as he moved and he imagined his target falling to its knees. A vision of a soul floating upward came to his mind.
Three feet from the figure, images of a valjeel attacking him flared in Armando’s mind. Several of the extinct creatures, with leathery wings, had been summoned to attack his family decades ago. He pushed against the mental barrage, trying to keep focused on the figure. Blood dripped from his nose as a cerebral bombardment stripped him of his ability to act.
“I guess my spell’s wearing off.” The words echoed in his head, joined by, “You almost caught me. And it seems like you have the beginnings of a nasty power. Keep trying, Little Medina.”
Armando leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, as he tried to calm down. His mobile rang and he answered it.
“Where are you?” Izdahl asked. “What happened? You just took off.”
“That Nitelvosa from the shield was here again. I followed him.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah. I think so. Just a little confused.”
“Tell me where you are and stay there. I’ll come to you.”
Armando looked around for a location marker and told Izdahl. A few minutes later, Izdahl found him.
“Did you see where he went?” Izdahl asked.
Armando motioned to the exit. “Out that door, I think. I lost focus and I couldn’t move. I can’t even describe him properly. Some kind of spell was over his face.” Armando flinched and held his left hand to his chest. “I tried to pull his soul, Izdahl. I wasn’t even thinking. I just reached out.”
Izdahl carefully took Armando’s bruised hand, examining it. “It doesn’t feel like anything’s seriously damaged.” He took out his handkerchief and wiped the blood from Armando’s nose. “Let’s get you home.”
When they returned to their house, changed, and settled, Armando sat on the couch. He replayed what had happened, trying to understand it from every angle.
“How can I help?” Izdahl asked, as he set a cup of tea in front of Armando.
“I don’t know. There are too many strange images. I see flashes of circles and hexagons, but there are swooping valjeel too. I don’t know how they’re connected or if they’re related. I can’t make sense of any of it.”
Izdahl sat by him. “What if we talked to my mother or Great-Aunt Sunja? She did a mental review for you.”
Armando thought of when Sunja Ziyad had done a mind diving session with him. He’d been resistant, at first, to letting anyone into his head. But eventually he’d given in to Izdahl’s encouragement to have Sunja do a mental search. He hadn’t known what had been the source of his power, but he’d violently rejected her presence. The force of the rejection had set her aflame and launched her across the room. After she’d recovered by healing herself, they’d contacted Xeira to explain what had happened. They’d figured out that Zaitiv Havad had put a block on Armando’s mind to protect him.
Due to his similar spiritual energy to Zaitiv, Armando had been linked to the powerful former Velzo, who’d been in stasis for centuries. Zaitiv’s immense spiritual energy helped to maintain the system of shields that protected the three Nitelvosa and human planets. Some of Zaitiv’s soul energy had been put in an orb that circulated in Armando’s heart and lungs. While Armando had learned his connection with Zaitiv stabilized the revered leader, he sometimes was conflicted about his role.
Armando had never thought the former Velzo of the Havad Family would have such a powerful effect on him. He wondered if Zaitiv was awakening from stasis.
“Good idea,” Armando said. “Sunja might help me sort the images. Maybe I’ll finally remember more about that strange Nitelvosa.”
***
When Armando went with Izdahl to meet Sunja in her home, he was surprised to see Hadil.
“Sunja explained your situation,” Hadil said.
Sunja nodded. “Given what happened last time when I did a mind dive, I’ve asked Hadil for assistance.”
“I really am sorry about what I did,” Armando said.
Sunja laughed softly. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. At any rate, Hadil recommended we try another tactic. My method may have been too blunt.” She motioned to the living room couches and the four of them sat.
“All right,” Armando said. “What do we need to do?”
“We’re going to tap into memories you might have forgotten,” Hadil said.
“About the night my parents died?”
“No, but it does relate to your family. Just take a chance and we’ll see how it goes.”
Armando looked at Izdahl, who squeezed his hand for encouragement. He glanced back at Hadil and nodded. “I’m ready.”
Hadil set a metal device on the wooden table and activated it. The device began to play a video. It was something Armando had never seen. His heart clenched at the sight of his mother, Olivia, and himself at four years old. Olivia was being recorded talking to Xeira.
“Armando’s seeing things,” Olivia said. “He even believes they’re real. But I can’t see them. Neither can his father or his sister.”
“Has he ever described them?” Xeira asked.
“Sometimes.” Olivia put a disk on the table and tapped it. “He also draws these.”
A moment later, holographic images appeared, projecting from the disk. They were a child’s drawings of different figures. Some were of humans and Nitelvosa, while others were animals or objects.
Memories scratched in Armando’s mind of him using crayons, color pencils, and paint to make the figures. He reached out toward the drawings. Pain pierced through his head, as he tried to remember more about those images, especially why he’d drawn them.
Hadil stopped the video and looked at him, with deep concern in her eyes. “We have to be careful. We don’t know what we’ll stir up, doing such an invasive search into your memories. If you’re feeling a lot of pain—”
“It’s not too bad.”
“Do you remember anything about the drawings?” Izdahl asked.
“Not really.” Armando reached out and spun the video image to get a better look at the figures. “No. These aren’t familiar.”
“Should we do a deeper dive?” Sunja asked Hadil.
“Actually...” Hadil sat back and studied Armando. “I’m thinking we’d better not. Your energy’s too unstable. The last time I saw your energy in this state, you were in a coma after your accident in the Havad territories.”
“Can’t we try?” Armando asked. “I need to push past this block. Or whatever it is.”
Hadil shook her head firmly. “Your mental state is not where it should be for Sunja’s technique. The backlash this time could be devastating.”
“I know it might be dangerous,” Armando said. “But I can’t keep living like this. I don’t want to be vulnerable ever again. What was the point of coming here, if you won’t help me?”
Izdahl tapped Armando’s knee. “Listen. My mother and Sunja wouldn’t deny you, unless it was necessary.”
Armando let out a long breath and leaned back against the couch. He closed his eyes, as frustration rose in him. All he could think of was that Nitelvosa taunting him, calling him “Little Medina.”
He felt movement next to him and opened his eyes. Hadil had come to sit at his side. She held his hand, looking at him intently. “I sense that you feel incredibly vulnerable. What would you need, so you don’t feel that way?”
Armando glanced furtively at Izdahl, before responding, “After I put Izdahl’s soul back in his body, there was a lot of speculation about me. There still is. Some have said that if I can put back a soul, I can take one.” He took a deep breath before adding, “I was almost able to grab that Nitelvosa I’d been chasing. If I see him again, I don’t want to mess up. I want to learn how to capture souls. Properly.”
The gasp that escaped Izdahl made Armando look at him again.
“You can’t be serious,” Izdahl said. “You want to be a Soul Reaper? Do you know what you could be risking?”
Armando stared at Izdahl, seeing his frustration. “Is that what the Nitelvosa call it? Well, I guess that’s what I need to learn.”
“It’s dangerous. You might not have enough spiritual power to control that ability. Learning it could backfire and you’d injure your soul, if not completely destroy it. You don’t need to do this.”
“I’d like to try, Izdahl.” Even as he felt the heat of Izdahl’s gaze, Armando turned to Hadil. “Will you please teach me?”
“I can, but it’s like Izdahl told you. It’s not a technique to use lightly.”
“Talk with Xeira,” Sunja said, her tone insistent. “Get advice from her on the best course to take. She’s also one of the best at removing a soul. She may even agree to teach you.” She looked at Hadil. “And frankly, I’d rather Xeira decide on Armando learning to pull souls. If we taught him without her approval...” Sunja shook her head. “I’m not dealing with that. Also, Xeira’s technique is so beautiful and precise.”
Izdahl cursed. “Why are you two encouraging him?”
“Don’t you want me to be safe?” Armando asked.
“Of course I do.” Izdahl pressed a hand to his chest. “I can protect you.”
“From my memories? From those who killed my parents? What if someone tries to hurt you? Again?”
Izdahl let out a frustrated huff. “You’re really going to learn this technique, aren’t you? No matter what I say, you’ll do what you want.”
Hadil held up her hands. “Why don’t you two take more time to discuss this? Nothing has to be decided today.”
“I agree,” Izdahl said. He looked at Armando, with anger in his eyes. “This conversation isn’t over.”
Izdahl rose and left the room. Armando followed him out. He wanted to talk to Izdahl, hoping he could help him better understand. He followed Izdahl out the house and tried to get him to talk. Instead of doing that, Izdahl flew off.
As Armando watched Izdahl go, he threw his hands up in exasperation. He cupped his hands around his mouth and raised his voice. “Seriously? You’re doing that again? Don’t be so childish.”
When Izdahl didn’t acknowledge him, Armando cursed softly. “Well, at least I know where to find him.”
***
Izdahl thundered across the countryside, as a feeling of unrest grew within him over his argument with Armando. His chosen outlet for his anxiety was to ride Koraiy through his family’s property. He rushed across acres of lush, landscaped greenery, designed for the most skilled luraga riders in the Amasi Family. For almost a decade, Izdahl had ridden those grounds, bonding with Koraiy and releasing the worst of his frustrations. Today, he’d already run the courses seven times, three being his usual habit.
The tension that coursed through Izdahl’s body transmitted to the reigns in his hands and traveled to his steed. Koraiy threw his head fiercely and whinnied reproachfully. Izdahl slowed to a trot and then a walk.
“I’m sorry.” Izdahl patted his luraga’s neck. “I’ll give you extra sugar cubes tonight.”
As a down payment on the promise, Izdahl offered one to him now. Koraiy nipped at Izdahl’s fingers, before taking the cube and Izdahl chuckled at the impish move. While Koraiy chewed on his cube, Izdahl looked up at the sky, which showed the first signs of stars coming out for the night. When he’d left the stables, it had been early afternoon. Now, the sun had given way to the moon.
He made his way to the nearest fully-stocked cabin, one of several across the 60-acre property. After settling Koraiy for the night, Izdahl went inside, undressed, and began to shower. He hoped the water would wash away his worries. Even as he lathered his skin, images of the cause of his distress came back to him—Armando’s determination to learn how to pull souls. Izdahl hadn’t wanted to limit Armando’s opportunities but he hadn’t been pleased with the development. It was this unrest that had made him ride through his family’s fields, trying to fully cobble together a more complete picture of why he was bothered.
After changing into linen shirt and pants, he went to prepare dinner. He laughed when he realized he’d automatically made enough food for two. Armando wouldn’t be dining with him.
As he did, he kept looking at his mobile and feeling tempted to call Armando. He picked up his mobile and, instead of reaching out to Armando, he called his best friend, Dmitri.
“Hey Dima,” Izdahl said.
“It’s good to hear from you. We haven’t talked since my trip.”
As an accomplished cellist, who had taught Izdahl to play the instrument, Dmitri had gone on a multi-planet tour.
“Did you have a good time?”
“Yes, I did. And how are things with you?”
“They could be better. Right now, Armando and I are having a disagreement.” Izdahl settled on a couch and explained the situation to Dmitri. When he finished, he asked, “So what do you think?”
“Well, I agree with Armando.”
“Why?”
“Knowing he’s with you doesn’t mean other Nitelvosa won’t hurt him. He has to be able to protect himself. Besides, what human wouldn’t jump at having the kind of power he has. You should be less stressed, knowing he can fend for himself. The deeper he gets into the Nitelvosa world, the more others will pay attention to him. There’s already a huge beacon over his head because of how he brought you back.”
“Everything you said makes sense. I just can’t help feeling frustrated.”
“You’re taking him wanting to learn soul reaping as a slight to you. He knows you can protect him. You did that in the park, when some Nitelvosa attacked. Maybe he wants to balance things to be able to protect you too.”
“I hate how you and him are so reasonable. Here I am, getting in my feelings.”
Dmitri laughed. “When we’re right, we’re right.”
“Doesn’t make it easy to—” The cabin VI told Izdahl that Armando was at the door. He rose from the couch. “Just a second. He’s here.”
Izdahl went to the door, looking at Armando reproachfully. “What do you want?”
“Iz, are you really still mad at me?” Armando asked, taking a step closer to the door. “Or do you want to come out and play?”
Izdahl’s eyes widened and he laughed. “You sound like when we were boys.”
They’d known each other since they were children. At a time when they’d had one of their worst arguments, Izdahl had pushed off the ground to fly home, angrily stirring up leaves and twigs in the park. He’d turned back for a bit to see Armando watching in shock. As he’d flown home, a sulking Izdahl had promised he wouldn’t be the first to say sorry. He’d stewed for a few days, and as time went by, he’d wondered if he should have gone and apologized. It had been Armando who’d relented first, going to Izdahl’s house to smooth things over.
Izdahl reached for Armando. “Come inside.”
“Do I want to witness what happens next?” Dmitri asked.
“I forgot I was talking to you.” Izdahl laughed, as he turned his mobile to face Armando. “Does he look familiar?”
“Ouch,” Dmitri said. “Anyway, Armando, Izdahl poured his heart out to me and I told him you were right.”
“Oh good.” Armando chuckled. “I like you even more than I like the vodka you gave us.”
“You’re welcome. My work is done here.” Dmitri pointed at Izdahl. “See you at practice tomorrow. The new cellist will be starting.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting them,” Izdahl said. “Have a good night, Dima.” He ended the call and put away his mobile, focusing on Armando. “Did my mother and great-aunt talk sense into you?”
Armando gritted his teeth at Izdahl’s stubborn tone. “After you flew off, like a bratty child, I did speak with your mother and Sunja again.”
“I did not fly off like a—”
Armando held up his hands. “Your mother said the magic that came to me from the soul column might not remain. I need some way to protect myself.”
“I see. Then we’re at an impasse. I don’t want you to learn a dangerous technique. But as is your habit, you plan on doing whatever you want. Remember the last time something like that happened?” Izdahl stroked his jaw. “I seem to recall that you fell off a fucking cliff and ended up in a coma.”
The previous year, when Armando had gone to see Zaitiv’s statue, he’d lost his footing. He’d plummeted almost 30 feet to a ledge below and landed on his back. His head had slammed against a massive rock. While trying to get his bearings, another rock had fallen on him, pinning him and making him lose consciousness. His injuries had led to a coma that last several weeks. Izdahl had stayed by his bedside, devastated and worried.
Armando narrowed his eyes, hurt by Izdahl’s tone. “That’s not fair.”
“Well, I’m pissed.”
“And you’re being a jerk about it.” Armando took a deep breath. “Listen, I know you’re worried, but can you please trust me on this?”
Izdahl rubbed his forehead. “Okay. I’ll try.” His shoulders slumped in defeat. “Just make sure you listen to all the guidance from my mother, Sunja, and Xeira. Sometimes, you get an idea and just run with it. The Soul Reaper technique could have horrible backlash.”
“I really will be careful. I promise.”
“Shit.” Izdahl huffed in frustration. “I suppose that will have to do.”
“Thanks for understanding.” Armando patted Izdahl’s chest. “Why don’t we relax for a bit? I’ll make some tea.”
Armando headed to the kitchenette and Izdahl followed him.
“You drink a lot of tea,” Izdahl said. “Was it always like that?”
“My mom really liked it. Doing the same thing reminds me of her. Overtime, it’s become comforting.”
Armando filled two mugs with water and gave Izdahl an expectant look. Izdahl chuckled, before releasing a ball of flame and quickly heating the water.
“I remember you made a teacup for her.”
Armando nodded, as he added leaves to the hot water. “We both made ones for our mothers.” His smile faded. “When I was angry with your family, with you, I broke that teacup.” He cast his eyes away from Izdahl. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey. We don’t have to talk about any of that.”
“I’d still have that mug, if I hadn’t been so angry.”
“Maybe we can take a pottery class one day. We’ll make new mugs. I know it won’t be the same, but...”
“I’d like that.”
When the tea was ready, they settled on the couch with their mugs to talk.
“I’ll be meeting with Velzo Nieri soon,” Armando said.
“She’s great at mind games and can be a wild card.” Izdahl sighed and watched the steam rise from his mug. “I mean, you’ve met Paltra. Her personality is a lot like Velzo Nieri.”
Armando nodded at the reference to Paltra, Velzo Nieri’s granddaughter and Izdahl’s ex-girlfriend. He laughed softly. “I get along with Paltra. Maybe I can charm her grandmother.”
Izdahl shook his head. “I like your confidence.” He tapped his mug of tea against Armando’s in playful praise. “Maybe I need to be more positive like you.”
***
Armando took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of recent blooms carried by the spring air. This wasn’t the first time he’d been in Xeira’s garden. It still felt like one of the most peaceful places he’d ever been. Among the beautiful insects were Phaenna, beings that fluttered on translucent wings. The small three-legged creatures were considered good luck. Seeing them made Armando smile, as he thought of how much his mother loved the beings of the Nitelvosa worlds.
Across from him, Xeira waved her hand and a plate of peeled sugarcane appeared in front of her. The plate held ten pieces that were about two inches thick.
“You look like Olivia, when you smile that way,” Xeira said. “She and I used to chew on sugarcane and talk. Your mother and I were such kindred spirits. Fierce about protecting family.” She stared meaningfully at him. “It was during some of those conversations we discussed you and the orb.”
Armando had planned to talk to Xeira about how to reap souls, but the mood she was in indicated other things were on her mind. At the moment, he was more curious about what she’d just brought up. “Why was I chosen to carry Zaitiv’s orb?”
He rubbed his chest, where the enchanted orb circulated in his heart and lungs.
"There were other candidates,” Xeira said. “But after intense vetting, your parents met the rigorous standards. They’d always wanted to contribute to strengthening ties between humans and Nitelvosa. Your incredibly strong spiritual energy, akin to Zaitiv, was a perfect opportunity.”
“Doesn’t having this orb makes me a target?” Though it never hurt him, he hated knowing his parents had allowed Xeira to put it there. “I’m a pawn in your greater plans to protect Zaitiv.”
“I’ve never considered you a pawn. Saying so is an insult to your parents. You’re vital to several of my strategies.”
“At least one of your strategies led to violence. I lost my parents because of that.”
“They knew the risks. I respect them because they understood what was at stake.”
Armando stared off into the distance. Some of the youngsters of the Phaenna colony hovered nearby. He picked up a piece of sugarcane and cut it into much smaller pieces. He handed some of them to the flying beings. They chattered happily before taking off with their treat.
He look back at Xeira. “I think your goals will lead to more violence.”
“That’s likely.”
Armando took a sip of his drink, taking in Xeira’s casual tone. “Do you believe violence is the answer?”
“It is, when someone asks a violent question.”
“You know, humans have a long history of fighting. That’s not necessarily a good thing.”
“It’s similar with the Nitelvosa. We have a strong sense of fairness. We cut down aspiring tyrants quickly. That’s why there are less tyrants in our past. It’s likely to be so for the future.” Xeira leaned toward him. “Speaking of fairness, if there are scales you need to balance, you’ll have my support.”
“You mean if—when—I find out who killed my parents?”
“Yes.” Xeira motioned between herself and Armando. “And we will find out.” She leaned back in her seat. “Do you have any more questions for me?”
“I know there are rumors about how I can affect souls. Some have negative opinions about that. I don’t want those to hold me back from exploring what’s possible. So, can you tell me what it’s like to pull a soul from its body?”
Xeira raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to ask. It’s a horrific experience.”
“Is it something that’s expected of Velzos?”
“It’s one of our abilities. All the Velzos know how to do it, even though we can’t see souls, as you, Hadil, and two others can. Velzos don’t need to see a soul to destroy one. Our fully released power levels result in us having that ability. What many people don’t know is that we’re dampening our immense spiritual power, so it doesn’t negatively affect others.”
Armando stroked his jaw, thinking that explained the hum of power he sensed whenever he was around Xeira, Sunja, or Dagmar. “I’ve felt that energy, sometimes. It became noticeable after bringing back Izdahl. Am I able to do these things because of Zaitiv or—”
“Some of your abilities are because of him, but humans aren’t without magic. They just subdued it, punishing those with strong abilities for millennia. You, however, have similar spiritual powers as Zaitiv.”
“I want to understand Zaitiv more. I’ve talked to him in a dream, but I can’t control when I dream about him. He’s also not powerful enough yet to enter my dreams for me to get all the information I want.”
“Well, there might be things only he can tell you. You’ll have to be patient.”
Armando chuckled.“That’s usually what you tell me, Xeira.”
They relaxed in comfortable silence for a while, until Xeira reached out and squeezed his hand.
“Armando, should anything happen to me...”
He noted that her hand trembled. “Xeira, what’s wrong?”
“No matter what happens to me, please continue taking care of Izdahl.” Xeira swallowed and sadness filled her eyes. “When I found out he would be a Core Guardian...Let’s just say my duties as a Velzo take priority, but I would have preferred he not be a CG. Being a Shield Guardian is challenging enough, but being a CG and partnered with you...That’s a serious strain.”
“My fragment hasn’t activated yet.”
“You mean you haven’t activated it.” Xeira gave him a smug smile. “You will. I’m sure of that.”
“That’s a lot to unpack. Let’s do this slowly. Why are you worried about Izdahl being a CG?”
“It’s a heavy responsibility and the pressure on one’s soul can be brutal.”
“And why were you worried that he’s partnered with me?”
“You can burn him out. If you’re unbalanced, a hunger will grow within you. You will take from any of the Core Guardians. If he thought it would help you, Izdahl would feed you his power.”
“Has a CG ever done that with their partner?”
“Yes. It’s the main reason we kept the service to 20 years. Publicly, we say it’s due to fatigue, but the real reason is the hunger that grows for spiritual energy. After a certain period, usually around two decades years, the strongest Core Guardians experience a brutal craving. With you having the power level of Zaitiv, you’re likely to be a danger to yourself and others. You’re already showing signs that worry me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been talking to you with most of my spiritual power undampened. You haven’t even flinched. You haven’t noticed. By now, you should have had a nosebleed, at the very least. And today, you’ve asked me how to pull souls.”
“I’ll learn whatever I can to protect Izdahl.”
Xeira sighed heavily. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Armando nodded, eager to learn, despite Xeira’s grave expression. “Would you teach me yourself or—”
“I’d trust no one else to do it. Everyone who can has a specific method. If I teach you the technique, everyone will be clear I’m sanctioning your use of it.” Xeira picked up a piece of sugarcane and chewed thoughtfully on it. “Hopefully, that becoming general knowledge will give you enough protection where you won’t have to risk using the technique.”
“So how will it go?”
“We’ll start small. Nothing we do will involve the souls of any real beings. Casually practicing like that would be unethical.”
“Of course. I understand. How will I learn?”
“We’ll use the training program I created,” Xeira said. “There are three phases; stabilizing your soul energy, reading the experiences of Soul Reapers, and finally using what you’ve learned from phases one and two to capture souls.”
“How long will those phases take?”
“Everyone moves at their own pace, but it usually takes four months to learn the reaping technique. Following my method reduces the chance of a backlash damaging your soul. To complete my training, your final test will be against someone with a soul.”
“A real person?” Armando grimaced at the idea of having an actual living target, even in training. “But you said—”
“Don’t worry. This person will be able to withstand you. I won’t tell you who. When the final test comes, there will be two parts to that.” Xeira held Armando’s gaze. “Do you still want to go through with this?”
Armando nodded firmly. “Yes, let’s do it.”
Xeira took a deep breath and closed her eyes for several moments. When she opened them, Armando peered at her in curiosity.
“What was that?” he asked. “Were you praying? Getting ready for something?”
“I was apologizing to Ramón and Olivia for having to teach you this technique. If things go wrong, you could be seriously hurt.”
“Or worse, with my luck.” Armando peered at the ground, as sadness over the mention of his parents overtook him. Xeira put a hand on his and he looked at her. “But I need to learn anyway.”
“I never want you to be at anyone’s mercy. Your parents felt the same. That’s why I’ll prepare you as much as possible. This training will be taxing, but in the end it will be a huge benefit.”
“Thank you, Xeira. Izdahl’s nervous about what I want to do, but I think you training me will at least settle his fears.”
“Well then, we have a plan.” Xeira patted his hand. “So, onto a different challenge.” She chuckled. “Are you ready to meet with Velzo Vaihan Nieri?”
“As ready as I can be. I’m actually making the goal of my trip about more than seeing her. I thought I’d spend a few days in the Nieri Territories and examine their architectural styles.”
“Sounds perfect. Hopefully, it’s an eventful trip in a good way.”