Tuesday, 8th of August 2006 – Camille entered the cafeteria complex alone at half past one in the afternoon. She stopped at the entrance of the hall and sighed thinking, ‘I hate eating alone’. Finally, gathering herself, she slowly entered.

  She wore a plain white blouse tucked into light jeans and a grey jacket – nothing striking, yet the faint tiredness in her eyes, however, made her stand out more than she wanted.

  As usual, the place was packed. Many heads turned and she heard many whispers. There had been a subtle buzz around the Palace of the recent failure of the Zeta Squad but the details had not been made public. Even so, everyone saw that the squad returned without the bounty hunter. They were asking questions. And silence was all the answer they needed to make up stories.

  Furthermore, the news of Faris Naji being treated in the Aquarae had been causing a stir as well. The man seldom visited the Palace and was even rarely seen at Ayn. But him being treated at the Northern Hospital at the same time as the Zeta Squad raised a lot of questions.

  What had happened? Who or what did the Zeta Squad encounter? Even Camille was not at liberty to tell anyone. So, she walked along the border to the kitchen and then quietly sat at an empty corner table to eat.

  While most avoided eye contact, whispers still kept tickling her ears, but no one approached her.

  ‘They either believe we did something terrible,’ she thought, ‘or maybe they don’t even wanna know what actually happened.’

  All the others from her squad had decided to stay at home and rest for the day. Camille sighed and brought out a book from her purse. She placed it beside the tray before her – a bowl of warm rice porridge, a side of pickled vegetables, and a steaming cup of herbal tea that smelled faintly of mint and something sweeter. She ate slowly, each bite measured, her body grateful for the warmth.

  The Sokidu flipped through the pages whilst she ate. It was a compilation of poems by ‘Robert Frost’ and commentaries.

  “Voilà!” she whispered as she leaned ahead. She had found the verse she was looking for. “Yes! ‘and miles to go before I sleep…’ I knew I heard that somewhere.”

  Vincent had recited a portion of the poem when they were in Jamaica. She went through some commentaries in hopes of understanding what the bounty hunter may have meant. She wanted to uncover the secrets inside the man’s head.

  ‘And miles to go before I sleep…’ she kept wondering. ‘What are you looking for? Sleep… death? Or satisfaction, maybe? He read the last stanza only. Promises to keep… He’s out looking for something and got stuck with Hugo and maybe ended up enjoying the momentary captivity… nah, Cami! Something’s missing.’

  She shook her head. ‘I need Hugo’s side to make sense of this. I have a feeling he knows that guy…’

  Before she could finish up her meal, Zaatsu Master Kenji Masaki, leader of the Delta Squad and a friend of Hugo, approached her. She did not notice.

  “Hey, Cami,” he said, sitting across from her.

  “Oh, sorry,” she was startled. Straightening herself and gulping the veggies down, she said, “I didn’t see you there, master.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Kenji smiled. “Just came to tell you that your brother was looking for you.”

  “Hugo?”

  “Hmm.” He crossed his legs and leaned back. “Were you not home this morning?”

  “I left early. Went for a walk then the checkup at the clinic… you know.”

  “Of course. And how’re you feeling now?”

  She sighed and then smiled. “A lot better actually.”

  “Well, ah… I guess check the hostels. See if you can find him. He asked me to tell you. He knew you’d be here in the afternoon.”

  Camille chuckled and dropped her head. “Alright, I will. Thank you.”

  By the time she got to the hostel, she was told that Hugo had already left. So, she decided to head back home.

  At half past two, when she arrived at her place, she found Hugo along with Faris sitting at the kerb in front of the gate. They had donned their standard Eye attire and as they saw her walk over, they smiled. She noticed a large paper bag with them as well.

  “Heya, Cami.” Faris smiled and placed a hand over the bag. “Be a dear and help us heat this up, will ya?”

  For a moment, she just stared – eyes wide, lips parting into a stunned half-smile. Then she laughed softly, unable to help herself.

  “You two...” she murmured, shaking her head in disbelief.

  Camille sat dumbfounded by the unreal display of fried-chicken devouring as the senior Martial Artists went through several boxes. She could not bring herself to even take a bite. Similar was the case of the milkshakes – the two drank at least 3 each, while she sat there with her only one.

  “What’s up, kiddo?” Faris asked, with his mouth full. “You haven’t eaten a thing…”

  “I already had my lunch.” She slowly shook her head. “And I kind of lost my appetite too…”

  And yet, they continued undeterred.

  Finally, Camille leaned ahead and cleared her throat, grabbing their attention. “Bro, you were looking for me?” she asked. “Master Masaki told me at the cafeteria.”

  “Oh, yeah, yeah.” Hugo took a long sip. “Hadn’t checked up on you since the mission. And also…” he paused and smiled. “I needed an excuse to get out of the Palace.”

  “Fair enough. I could hear Lord Seear talking with you and Erina from the other side of the curtain… didn’t feel right.”

  Faris leaned back. “One trip to the Continuum and you’re rebelling already?” he remarked. “How dare you defile the Lord and Protector of all?”

  Camille’s chest tightened. It was not that she feared Faris, but the way he joked about treason made her skin prickle – like even laughter could be dangerous.

  “Cut it out, Faris,” said Hugo.

  “No but seriously.” The Mystic dusted the crumbs off his fingers. “Don’t go speaking like that in public. They’ll skin you alive.”

  With the meal finally over, Faris and Hugo washed their hands and returned to the table once more. Sitting triumphantly, looking at the empty boxes being collected by Camille, Hugo asked, “You seem somewhat troubled… anything specific on your mind?”

  She threw the boxes in the bin and then came back and sat down. With her head dropped, she said, “Vincent.”

  “Ah… of course.”

  “It’s just odd, you know.” She looked up. “I was just trying to get a grip on him, but he’s… he’s tough to understand.”

  “How so?”

  “Do you remember what he recited back in the Bahamas?”

  “Oh… promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep… yes, I remember.”

  “Well, it made me wonder… what could he have meant?”

  “Hmm… Do you know the poem that’s from?”

  “Yes. I found it and even read a few commentaries about it. But I just can’t lay a finger on it. Was his time with us a pleasant stay at the woods?”

  Faris leaned in, interrupting them. “Ah, which poem are we talking about?”

  Hugo shook his head and looked at Camille saying, “Let me explain it to the illiterates first.” With a hand on the Mystic’s shoulder then, he recited the poem:

  “Whose woods these are I think I know.

  His house is in the village though;

  He will not see me stopping here,

  To watch his woods fill up with snow.

  My little horse must think it queer,

  To stop without a farmhouse near,

  Between the woods and frozen lake,

  The darkest evening of the year.

  He gives his harness bells a shake,

  To ask if there is some mistake.

  The only other sound’s the sweep,

  Of easy wind and downy flake.

  The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

  But I have promises to keep,

  And miles to go before I sleep,

  And miles to go before I sleep.”

  Camille found herself leaning in without realizing, her lips mouthing along with the final lines. They’d been haunting her since Vincent first whispered them. Hearing them again, spoken so easily, made her throat tighten.

  Smiling, Hugo added, “We read that in our world literature course back at the academy. Never forgot it…”

  Faris let out a whistle. “Looks like the white-haired guy is towing a familiar line, eh Hugo?”

  The Zaatsu chuckled. “It sure as hell felt like it. But then the jackass ran away.”

  “Wouldn’t blame him. Working through the mess is much tougher.”

  As the two dropped their heads, Camille leaned ahead and placed her crossed arms on the table. “What do you guys mean?” she asked. “What line is he towing?”

  “He’s a man on a forced mission, Cami,” Faris explained. “That’s a simple interpretation of why he would recite that.” He picked his head up and added, “He didn’t choose to do what he’s doing. But he knows it’s the right thing to do. Or…” he turned towards Hugo and shrugged. “He’s working an angle and has different motives entirely – not a supporter of the Eye, the Alchemist, the anyone. Maybe he’s just serving his own agendas.”

  Hugo leaned closer smiling. In an almost whisper, he said, “The anyone, huh?”

  “Oh you know how it is…”

  “She’s my sister, old friend. No need to speak in riddles. And besides, she loves to ask questions herself, don’t you Cami?”

  With a narrowed gaze, Camille half-smiled and slowly asked, “Are you guys talking about the Outsiders?”

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  Her pulse spiked. The Outsiders – it felt heavier in her mouth than she expected – a name she had only heard whispered like a warning. She braced, half-expecting them to shut her down.

  Faris looked at Hugo. “Those kinds of questions can get her into trouble, bud…”

  He smiled. “Not while I’m around.”

  The Sokidu leaned back and crossed her arms. “What is it with you guys? Were you really an Outsider? And you too Master Naji?”

  Faris smiled. “What do you mean were? And please, call me Faris.”

  “Seriously?”

  Hugo leaned back and stretched. With arms raised and hands clasped behind his head in an easy sprawl, he smiled. “Seriously?” he said. “You’ve still got doubts? Come on, Cami. You’re better than that.”

  “I would love it if you guys could set that record straight, please.”

  The duo exchanged a look. “Alright, Cami, I’ll try to make it brief,” said Hugo. “In the last half century, the Outsiders were responsible for averting a full scale war, stopping a rogue Martial Artist from destroying the Eye, and keeping the Order in check. So, they didn’t get the time to keep an eye on the Eye.”

  Camille took a moment as she stared wide eyed. “You mean this stretches back to the Cult Wars?” she whispered.

  Hugo nodded. “Indeed…”

  “By the way,” the young Sokidu looked around. “Are we safe to be talking about these things?”

  “Oh, now she’s worried!” Faris laughed. “Don’t worry, kid. If they knew how to spy on us, we would’ve been sixteen feet deep by now.”

  After yet another pause, Hugo began explaining further. “It is said that the Cult Wars were about the Cults messing around with each other to acquire land and resources. And they say that the Eye had to step in and stop them. But in reality, it was a proxy war.”

  “They were using the Cults,” Faris added. “It was an ideological war between the Eye and the Order.”

  “The Order,” Camille said, wide eyed. “What do they have to do with it?”

  The friends smiled. “They were using the Cults just like the Eye,” the Mystic explained. “It was a race to win as many Cults over as possible. And then it was all about using these Cults to hurt each other – a proxy war. It was in fact the Eye and the Order who wanted more land and resources, not the Cults.”

  “So many people died unnecessarily.” Hugo shook his head. “Infrastructure was damaged, even sacred sites were not spared. The world was an arm’s length away from an arcane world war, Cami.”

  Camille shrugged. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

  “Well, the Outsiders saw the struggle for what it actually was, kiddo,” Faris said and brought a leg atop the other. “And they also had the balls to oppose the struggle. They didn’t oppose the Eye, they didn’t oppose the Order – they opposed the meaningless skirmishes and covert operations.”

  Hugo nodded and said, “And that’s why they became public enemy number one. But, while they had the balls to oppose the meaningless proxy war, no one, and I mean no one had the balls to go up against the Outsiders in the 60s, 70s, and 80s.”

  “Hu-hu-hu,” Faris laughed as he leaned ahead and smacked his knee. “No one!”

  “Why?” asked Camille.

  Hugo smiled and said, “Because of one Zaatsu, Master Warren Ford…”

  “And the help he had… Holy hell!” Faris looked away. “His council! My dude! Mustaqeem al Gohari and then Vincent Von frikkin Bergen!”

  The Zaatsu giggled. “Yeah. And Warren alone was enough for the jackasses of the world. I mean that guy had a different kind of aura, man!” He looked at his friend and added, “We became Martial Artists because of Warren.”

  Both the seniors looked at Camille then. Hugo said, “You might’ve become a Martial Artist because your brother was one, or your father was one… but us? We just wanted to be like Warren Ford. I mean when that guy walked into the Academy… God, it was epic! The man was a stoic champion in a time of utter turmoil. He was a hero. Wherever he went, just his presence demanded respect! No one rushed to shake hands with him, no one wanted to meet him – the moment he walked in, we’d just bow… I’m getting goosebumps from just telling you!”

  “No one dared to go up against the Outsiders while he was still around,” Faris added, in agreement with his friend. “Mustaqeem assisted him from the shadows and later, Von Bergen provided an unshakable philosophical backbone.”

  Hugo nodded. “Yup. Warren had his flaws, no doubt about it. But he kept the predators at bay. Where he walked, respect followed. And where Vincent talked, controversies died. And Mustaqeem was there to support them through and through. They became the perfect trio.”

  It took her a moment to process it, but Camille eventually nodded. “So, the Outsiders ended the Cult Wars,” she said, “by countering the Eye and Order’s covert agendas.”

  Faris smiled as he nodded. “Yup, that’s right, Cami.”

  “But the Outsiders were not decommissioned until the Basilisk’s attacks in the 90s. I mean, if they had the power to do that, why didn’t they just do it back then? Warren Ford was still alive in the 90s and Master Von Bergen was the Chief Seeker.”

  “The 80s and 90s are an unfortunate tale, kiddo,” Faris said as he leaned back and let down his hair, removing and throwing his hair tie on to the table. He sighed. “The Eye, being as original as they’ve been in centuries, began drafting in Cultist misfits during the 80s. They thought ‘oh the Outsiders do it all the time. We’ll do it too!’ And that’s where Mister Ambris Ferrer came from.”

  Wide eyed, Camille whispered, “What? Wasn’t he drafted by the Outsiders?”

  “Yeah… and I’m a monkey’s uncle… The Outsiders used to research assets for months, sometimes even years. Only if they passed every test and check were they drafted in. The Eye simply drafted whoever they thought was the strongest. They had an unshakable Warren complex…”

  “Ambris’s a Cultist drafted by the Eye… I did not know that…”

  “Yup. Where the Outsiders drafted geniuses like the Amazonian princess, Marion of Amazon, these idiots drafted Ambris.”

  The Mystic looked at his old friend and asked, “You remember Master Marion Von Bergen, right? You used to work with her.”

  “Yeah, I worked as her backup for a bit.” Hugo nodded and then began counting on his fingers: “One of the strongest enchantresses of the world, a Cultist leader, very smart, empathetic personality, Zaatsu, one hell of a Magicist, even knew Mysticism… there wasn’t much she couldn’t do.”

  “So, you see, Camille?” Faris leaned ahead once again. “Ambris was trained by the Eye. He became a Zaatsu, highly skilled and very powerful. I even went on a few missions with him. He was by all means an exemplary combatant – a one man army. But eventually, he learned things the Eye didn’t wanna tell him…”

  Camille asked, “What did he learn?”

  Hugo chuckled. “He learned that the Eye was responsible for the decimation of his Cult and their land. What he’d heard before of the Cult Wars were mere stories forged by some loyal Seekers.”

  Faris grinned as he shook his head. “But he didn’t go rogue straight away. He went to the Seear and the Justice Council. And that was when he was hijacked by darker forces and pushed off the edge.”

  “And the Seekers became the focus of his aggression,” Hugo explained.

  Camille said, “That explains why he attacked and killed all the Seekers!”

  Her brother nodded. “Hmm, but there’s a lot more to that tale. Where even Warren and Mustaqeem in their prime wouldn’t have been able to penetrate the walls of the City of Ayn, Ambris not only infiltrated it, but he targeted and killed the last contingent of Seekers so very easily. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? And amongst those who were murdered that night was the last Chief Seeker, Vincent Von Bergen.”

  The Zaatsu shook his head and added, “The Eye seldom attempted to stop Ambris. It was mostly the Outsiders hunting down the Basilisk and his goons. And the destruction he left in his wake provided Renekom and friends a golden opportunity to shut the Outsiders down for good…”

  Faris smacked his knee once more. “Ah! No Warren, no Marion, no Vincent, no Yang… nothing! There was no one to fear anymore.”

  “True that, buddy. But I mean had it not been for Marion, we would have already been totalled by Ambris. Eye wouldn’t need to do a thing…”

  “Talk about a power couple, eh? That Vincent and Marion Von Bergen…”

  “Oof, you can say that again…”

  As Hugo straightened himself in his chair, Faris chuckled and said, “And do you remember their kid?”

  “Oh God!” Hugo too giggled. “Don’t remind me.”

  “Who’re we talking about?” Camille asked, leaning closer.

  Faris looked at her. “Vincent and Marion’s son,” he said. “They actually had two sons, right Hugo?”

  “That’s right.” He nodded, looking away. “I think the younger one never even visited Ayn, but the older one… phew!”

  “What about him?” she asked.

  The Zaatsu shook his head as he smiled and looked at her again. “He was a genius of the kind that defies all logic, reason, sense, science, and everything else you can think of! I once saw him at the Royal Academy… came with his dad and Warren. They straight off pushed him to spar with the best of the Eye. So, that day everyone was attempting a technique called Cluster Thrusting. It’s rarely used and quite hard to master. You push all the Ki into the Clusters and create a static charge and then unleash it in a single burst getting a huge boost of strength. All the Zaatsus were attempting it.”

  Faris said, “Yeah. And everyone had a good laugh when Obadiah Moore surprised the kid with that same technique. What was the boy’s name again?”

  Hugo shook his head and said, “I don’t seem to recall. But anyways! So, then, Cami…” he looked at his sister again. “Fifteen minutes…”

  As the friends paused, took deep breaths, giggled, and shook their heads, Camille too smiled and asked, “What?”

  Hugo took another deep breath and said, “Just fifteen minutes later, he briskly walked to the centre of the training ground again, pointed at Obadiah and called him to the middle, and challenged him. The Mystics and Zaatsus dropped their jaws so far down it felt like they would touch the ground! Not only did that 16 year old kid understood the Zaatsus’ technique by observing for only fifteen minutes but the bastard also countered it! His counter was so strong, Cami, it left Obadiah paralyzed for days!”

  The friends laughed. Faris said, “Even someone like your brother would take months of practice to master and counter a concentration technique like that, especially if he’d never seen it before. But he took only fifteen minutes! A completely new, Zaatsu level technique… no problems at all!”

  Hugo stroked his hair back. “When I was training with Warren, I once saw Mustaqeem give him a few books on Mysticism. The kid must have been 14 or 15 back then. Six months later I saw him doing a Continuum jump. I said to Warren, I said, ‘Master Al-Gohari’s been training him well…’ Warren looked at me and told me that Mustaqeem didn’t even train him for a single day. He simply read the books and became a Mystic!”

  “In six months, Cami!” Faris stressed. “In six months he jumped in and out of the Continuum by reading books. It took me three years of rigorous practice to attempt my first jump! Three years! And he was only 14!!!”

  “You’re kidding…” Camille murmured, her voice caught between amazement and disbelief, a grin tugging at her lips despite the chill running down her spine. “What happened to him then?”

  The smiles on their faces vanished quickly. Hugo whispered, “Ambris…”

  “Oh…”

  And silence took over the kitchen.

  For the next several minutes, everyone kept staring at the ground. Camille was sitting on the chair with her legs drawn up to her chest, arms loosely wrapped around them. Hugo had leaned back in his chair while Faris was sitting leaning forward, one hand braced on his knee, tension written across his face.

  Finally, the Sokidu looked up. “Why didn’t anyone tell us all this?” she asked.

  Hugo once again took a deep breath. “History,” he said. “Do you remember what our white-haired friend said about history?”

  “Those who write it can bend it to the prevalent bias…”

  “Yes.”

  Faris too broke his silence and said, “Within a year of the death of Yang, they changed the syllabi across the academies. Almost all the books being read are new editions published after 2000.”

  With a smile, the Zaatsu said, “Keeping tabs on academics was also a job of the Seekers… the loss of Vincent ruined us in so many ways…”

  “Vincent – that same name, eh Hugo…” Faris smiled and looked at his friend. “And then the bounty hunter’s also talking about historical inconsistencies? Bro…”

  Hugo looked away. “That’s not the only relation between the two…”

  The Mystic’s smile slowly vanished. He turned towards Camille who also looked just as stunned. Looking back at the Zaatsu, he softly asked, “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean…” Hugo dropped his head.

  “What do you mean, Hugo? He’s Vincent’s kid? That same kid?”

  “I’m afraid not…”

  “The younger one?” asked Camille. “But didn’t the kids die?”

  “Older one was found dead but we never found the younger ones body. Nor did we ever find Warren.”

  “Never found?” she echoed, but her voice came out hollow – almost detached, like her mind couldn’t quite keep up with the words.

  Faris stood up. “What’re you saying, bud?”

  Hugo looked at him. “I said what I said.”

  “Shit!” The wide eyed Mystic had a hand on his head as he spoke in a whisper. “That explains so much… the magic, the precision, the skill… Marion, Vincent, Warren…”

  Camille had her feet on the ground. She pushed forward to the edge of her seat. “So, is he carrying on their mission as well?” she asked.

  Her brother shook his head. “No. I don’t know what he’s doing…”

  The room fell into silence. Not a word more was spoken until finally Faris stormed out. Camille too eventually resigned to her bedroom. Hugo was left alone in the kitchen. His heart ached for the child who had lost his family, his soul ached for the love that he had lost, and his mind raced looking for solutions left by the void left by his predecessors. Arms dropped to the side and legs stretched, he kept staring at the ceiling with half-closed eyes. A whisper escaped his lips, “Did I betray them all?”