The Poem

"Now you could dwell on how meaningless Bob's existence is or focus on the near god-like applications!" "Now, you could dwell on how meaningless Bob's existence is, or focus on the near god-like applications!" Stephan's hysterical laughter echoed, then he deflated like a mannequin, locking eyes with Asher.

"Amazing, isn't it? We're basically gods! If you ignore that most of us are put down like Dogs, enslaaaaved, fall into...melancholia, or simply go insane. Isn't our life diiiivine?" Stephan's gaze bore into the puppy, his blue eyes glowing brighter, almost matching the cyan flames he wielded.

Almost reflecting Stephan's emotions, the lab lights flashed on and off, the cyan hands floating in the air began to glitch, the fan in the vent spun around quickly, and the blades…the jars…no the entire room began to shake.

Asher could confidently say that it was almost the first time Stephan expressed a hint of true emotion. It was almost scary how easy it was to drown in the sorrow the blue eyes were reflecting.

But it was only for a few moments. The world that echoed Stephan's feeling so bizarrely returned to normal and so did Stephan who sat up straight and dusted his black coat.

"MOooving on. Let's wrap up the basics of Chaos theory." Stephan clapped his hands as some of the cyan hands moved to bring a chalk board over and begin to write.

"As you may know or not know…" He winked at Asher. "Everybody is born with a seed of Chaos. It is what you would call a soul…our definition of individuality. Few…meaning us Canites are born with what you would call a Factor."

"The Factor is like-like a…parasite. Yes, that's a good way to put it. The Factor attaches itself to the seed and inserts something into it. What that thing is or where the factor comes from doesn't matter…few know to begin with. All it matters is that the factor allows Canites to do two things when it makes the seed bloom at the tender age of sixteen."

"First and foremost, it gives us the ability to manipulate malaize to perform…the bizarre things we do. It is not entirely unique to us. The Sylphs have their tree voodoo…the Covens have their incantations which affect the malaize for some godforsaken reason…the Carvers have their runes…There is also the mediums and the Dremin."

"As to why we're hunted and they're not...it's simple really. Our lot is of Chaos and theirs of Order. We change the nature of the malaize…we consume it…we become one with it while they simply ask of it."

"It is what makes us prone to possession, insanity, or losing control as well as run the risk of opening rifts in our world but it is also what makes us the strongest in terms of potential."

"As for the second thing…the factor bestows knowledge of a confined concept. I could quantify knowledge like the plebians in Egrafelt but frankly, it's not a proper metric of quantifying power."

"When I say knowledge it's more akin to an understanding of a specific branch of sorcery. Some inherit a factor seeped with a long history that allows them to inherently manipulate wind to form tornadoes while others only find themselves barely able to push a gust of wind." 

"Most Canites would follow the factor's gift and delve deeper to understand the meaning in a breeze, and they would be right to do so. In pursuit of this understanding, they find more progress compared to someone pursuing the nature of fire when his inheritance was that of water."

"Again with enough time they would match each other but it would take the second double if not more time to catch up. This is why I dislike Egrafelt. They perceive potential as a reflection of inheritance when it's really tenacity and ambition."

"The inheritances aren't limited to the elements. They are as infinite in conceptuality and only finite to what the scales of reality allow to happen before they begin to unweave into rifts to the Infernos."

"So what's yours? What was your inheritance?" Asher cut him mid-explanation. He was admittedly curious about his future teacher.

"You'd have an easier time convincing me to tell you how to kill me than actually making me put to words something so ingrained in my being. Secondly, it's offensive to ask. Even Egrafelt would not force such a question."

"Oh and the answer is love."

"You can kill me with love…I have quite the romantic soul."

"Now I would love to go deeper into the actual methods of manipulating the malaize or the tiers of power but considering you don't have a factor…It would be pointless." The cyan hands clapped once he was done with his explanation while Asher was gritting his teeth.

"What now? I just continue on without a factor…just die?" Asher snapped. He was over the theatrics, but Stephan merely stared at the boy. Strangely there was a hint of pity in his eyes.

"You don't know, do you? Oh, puppy…you sweet little thing. To get a factor you have to kill another Canite and consume his."

"What was that about only killing those who deserve it."

"I'll-I'll kill a criminal…someone who deserves to die." Asher shifted in his seat under the weight of Stephan's scrutiny.

"Ahh the puppy fancies himself a vigilante now. And what makes you think that the criminal deserves to die? That he didn't kill like you to survive and was branded a murderer for it. What makes you better than him."

Asher was silent. Even Bob slumped a little at the jibe. He mirrored Asher's confusion and frustration. Stephan laughed a bit before continuing.

"Now now…you'll have to kill someone eventually but not for the factor. I have an idea of how to get one but first, we'll have to train you." Stephan threw the rope and Asher climbed before he drowned in his own thoughts.

"Before that…what changed your mind?" Stephan let go of the metaphorical rope. He watched Asher search for an answer. In Asher's defense, he couldn't narrate what happened to him nor put to words how he felt. He didn't fully understand it himself.

"Survival doesn't need a reason puppy but without reason you can't survive."

"Silence…Peace and silence. I-I don't want to feel like I do right now." Asher answered with a tinge of reluctance. He wanted to just be done with everything. To live a normal life. To be happy. He hadn't been happy in a long time. He didn't deserve to yet. This training would give him the first step forward to a modicum of happiness.

"Black sheep Black sheep smile in flames.

Only bones remain of Mother's Embrace.

Snot and tears won't blow pitchforks.

Only Wind and storm betray the folks.

Black sheep, black sheep, with heart so sore,

Yearning for peace, forevermore."

"What was that?" Asher listened tentatively to Stephan who narrated the poem. It wasn't a work of art, but it still rang true. Stephan on the other hand went silent for a minute as one of the cyan hands grabbed him by the shoulder. He quickly returned to his jovial self and looked at Asher.

"That was a passage from a poem written by an old friend. You'd probably find it in some books if you look hard enough."

"Misery, betrayal, and a terrible sense of humor that's the lot of Canites. You'll only find peace with strength but never silence. The peak might be empty, but the screams will never depart." Stephan watched the boy digest the words before getting up from his seat.

"Now grab a weapon you like while I prepare the music."

"Music?"

"For the training montage of course." Stephan walked towards the record player. He didn't trust Bob or the others with his precious crystals. He had a big collection and dandily chose one of them. Asher on the other hand rummaged through a collection of knives and daggers placed on a nearby table.

Asher picked up a sleek dagger, testing its weight. "This one feels right," he muttered, steeling himself for what was to come only to be launched across the room by his so-called teacher.

"Lesson one…Always keep your eyes on your enemy." Stephan didn't stop there. He lunged at Asher who was trying to stand up and kicked him.

That day he returned to his room beaten to a bloody pulp, which became the new norm. The pain was relentless, a constant reminder of his inadequacies. Yet, amidst the bruises and broken bones, something began to shift within him. Slowly, he learned to evade, counterattack, and target effectively. Each bruise was a lesson, each cut a marker of progress.

Stephan's teaching methods were brutal but effective. He drilled Asher on human anatomy, emphasizing what veins and tendons to slice and which to avoid. The knowledge was intimate and horrifying, painting a vivid picture of the fragility of human life.

He didn't just stop at the theoretical; practical sessions of torture methods and dissection were the norm, every gory detail meticulously covered. Asher's hands would tremble at first, but soon, they moved with precision and grim familiarity.

Aside from practical fighting, Stephan also forced him to learn new habits. Recognizing tell-tale signs of lies and mastering the art of deception were fundamental. He taught Asher how not to stand out, how to blend seamlessly into any environment, hiding in plain sight.

Stephan pushed him relentlessly, and to his surprise, Asher excelled in the more esoteric parts of the curriculum. It was as if the streets of Lethica had already prepared him. He did spend six months or so on the streets, and even before then, he needed those skills.

Asher tried asking Stephan where he learned all of this, but his teacher always ignored him or brushed him off with an absurd answer like..."Natural talent" or ".

'His teacher…' Between the torturous training, bouts of insanity, and jazzy music, Asher began to consider Stephan 'his teacher'. It felt strange because he was always on his toes around Stephan, but it was somewhat comforting to have a teacher, someone who pushed him beyond his limits, who saw potential in him where others saw only a lost cause.

Clara also taught him, but it didn't feel the same. With Stephan, there was an edge, a challenge that Clara's gentle guidance lacked. She provided warmth and understanding, but with Stephan, it was a trial by fire. Both had their place in his life, shaping him in different ways, but it was Stephan's brutal honesty and relentless drive that ignited something akin to hope within Asher.