Then I was in the mud again, gasping.
"That wasn't half bad, kiddo," Qahir said, though his tone wasn't as amused as before. "Maybe you're better than I thought."
His gaze sharpened. "Cassian… do you know what Luminaris is?"
I pushed myself onto my knees, blinking away the grit. "No, sir. Should I?"
"You should," he said slowly. "Only those born into the Families can use it. It's in their blood. And you just did."
I froze, gripping my sword tighter. "I told you—I'm not from here. I don't know how this world works."
Qahir crouched until our eyes met. "Then answer me straight, boy—are you certain you're not part of a Family?"
"I'm certain," I said, forcing my voice steady.
He studied me for a long moment, then finally stood. "Hmph. Either you're lying… or you're the strangest squire I've ever had. Either way—you're with me now."
"While we're on the subject," he added, "my superior in the Purgy told me stories about wanderers who wield power without a drop of royal blood. They're called Echoes That Stray—though most folks just call them Strays."
"Am I one of those?" I asked, hoping maybe I wasn't as weak as I thought.
Qahir smirked, patting my shoulder. "You? A Stray?" His laugh was sharp, almost mocking. "Impossible. Those are just old campfire tales. You're probably from some lowborn house so forgettable you don't even know its name."
"So, what is Luminaris?" I asked, steering away from his jab.
"It's the power granted to noble families by their gods," he said. "These gods are the heads of our bloodlines, even if we've never seen them. Each one shines in the night sky, and the closer the star, the greater the power."
"So how do I use it?"
"You just did, Cassian!" Qahir barked, grinning. "This power only wakes up when you imagine it."
He flicked my forehead. "Use your noggin, kid. I'm not about to hand you all the tips on day one."
Over the next couple of months, Qahir trained me—teaching me to fight and slipping in bits of knowledge about the world. I've started to get the hang of using Luminaris.
It's simple to start: picture something impossible. Want to cut something in half? Imagine it beforehand—every detail, down to the dirt under your feet and the scratches on your opponent's blade. If they're using Luminaris too, the sharper imagination wins.
Simple to use. Hard to master.
"You've grown so much, my young squire—you might even last longer than the rest." Qahir's laughter echoed as I slumped against the wooden door, lungs burning.
I knew I was getting stronger. But it wasn't pride I felt—it was dread.
Because whenever I used Luminaris, I saw inside Qahir. Not flesh or bone—something deeper.
A shifting mass of voices, whispering, screaming—pleading to be released. Figures clawing at unseen walls. Faces twisted in agony, eyes locked on me as if they knew my name.
I can't tell if it's the ability showing me this… or if something monstrous is caged inside my master, waiting to break free.
"Cassian, our training will be cut short today," Qahir said, tightening the leather straps on his armor. "I've got a meeting with the Starborne Council in the village of Sevrath. I'll be gone a few days, so you'd better keep up with your drills."
"Yes, sir, but… what is the Starborne Council?"
Qahir stopped mid-step, glancing over his shoulder.
"They are the warlords of the Najmun's might—the commanders who lead the armies of the five most powerful families. Their words can send tens of thousands to die by sunrise. Every one of them has carved their place through blood, steel, and brilliance on the battlefield. When they meet, the air is heavy enough to choke you, and every Purgy and even Nobleman within earshot stands straighter without thinking."
He adjusted the halberd on his back, his voice dropping to a low rumble.
"They're not kings, Cassian. They don't need to be. They're the ones who win the wars the kings boast about."
"The Najmun? I've heard that name before."
"Sir… before you leave, may I ask what the Najmun is exactly?"
"You really don't know anything, do you?" Qahir muttered, sliding his helmet into place.
"They're the star-born dynasties—every family that comes from the second son of Sol, Kentaurus. Their Luminaris flows so strong that without it, nothing grows. No wheat. No fruit. Not even the grass under your feet. The fields only flourish because their Luminaris feeds the roots… and if they withdrew it, every farm would turn to dust before the next moon."
He adjusted the strap beneath his chin, his gaze drifting away for a moment.
"That's why the people bow. Not because they're loyal… but because they're chained. You can't fight someone who decides whether your children eat or starve."
His voice dropped, carrying a rough edge. "Believe me, boy, I've dreamed of seeing those chains broken. But men like us—no matter how sharp the blade—we don't decide how the world turns."
He hefted his halberd, turning toward the gates.
"And the Najmun know it. That's why they keep their grip tight. When they speak, nations kneel… and when they're displeased, entire kingdoms vanish."
As he left, unease settled in my gut. This world was bigger than I thought. All I'd known since arriving was the manor and the walls that hemmed it in. Thinking about it now, I'd never even stepped beyond the gate.
Part of me wanted to ask about the stitched-masked people. Just thinking about them made my hand clench.
Two nights passed before I finally wrapped up my night training. Grueling, yes—but the more I did it, the better I felt. It was the only thing that scraped the darker thoughts out of my head.
I grabbed the hem of my beaten, sweat-stained shirt and wiped my forehead.
"Time to hit the sack," I muttered, heading back toward the manor.
The night air was alive with the chirps and clicks of insects. In the distance, I caught the muffled chatter of restless souls and the laughter of those with nothing better to do.
But beneath it all… I felt it. That creeping weight in the air. The thick, almost metallic aura that always clung to Sir Qahir.
I reached for the manor's tall doors—then froze. The aura was behind me now.
Steel clattered against stone. Something heavy hit the ground with a dull thud.
I turned.