Putting his plate in the sink, Okimoto almost broke his neck, slipping on the stone tiles still wet from mopping. “Fucking hell!”

  ,

  Erecting himself from the kitchen floor, his ear caught something bizarre blaring from the television a room away.

  “The Secular Church of Gillian is left in shambles, following Archbishop Tyranaggan’s revelation confirming the first instance of deicide since the third succession war! Chaos sparks as devastated followers of Gillian struggle to cope with this new reality.”

  Without realising, he had moved to stand before the screen, rubbing his chin in fascination. Having gotten an associate’s degree in Ritualistic Philosophy during his first two years at Toaddor university, Okimoto had some rudimentary insights into religion, mainly from studying the rivalry between independent ritualists and religious ritualists.

  “Would you get out of the way?” Shenelly hissed on the sofa, swatting the air for him to move.

  Aunt Yohanna was knitting beside her.

  Okimoto sat on the single-person sofa opposite them, something that had become his unspoken spot these past five days.

  Shenelly adjusted her oversized glasses. “Good riddance, I say. Gods are a thing of the past. People should learn to rely on themselves for purpose and understanding and not beings who are removed from our everyday lives.”

  Aunt Yohanna shook her head. “Don’t say things like that, Shenelly. I know some good people from that church. It’s a shame, honestly. A lot of them won’t know what to do with themselves now.”

  Shenelly perked up in her seat, ready to proclaim, “That’s exactly what I mean! They form their entire view of the world based on something utterly beyond them, clinging to ideas made to fit societies that existed hundreds of years ago. Can’t you see how unhealthy that is? The moment one of their gods falls, they all fall apart. It’s truly a show of weak character to submit yourself to another person like that.”

  “Gods aren’t people, darling.” Aunt Yohanna sighed.

  “They are people. Haven’t you read history? They’re just the worst kind of people. People who’ve never known weakness, mortality, or genuine emotion. Scientifically speaking, they’re nothing more than ritual-bound entities, a little stronger than the rest of their sort, but bound to rituals at the end of the day. They're born from human concepts that shape their entire personality. When you worship a god, you’re just worshiping ideas that come from people.”

  “Go tell that to the priests and priestesses who pour their blood, sweat, and tears into their faith. Have a philosophical debate with them, not me, I’m an old woman.”

  It had been five days since his little encounter in the alley. Okimoto hadn’t seen Christopher since then, but remembered his words. His RVIS pay slip had arrived in the post the previous morning, and he had yet to spend the money. A ladybug sprite (the breed his ether sprite was based on) would cost him one hundred shingles or one coronus. Just buying one would wipe out one-thirtieth of his pay slip. What’s worse is that he’d have to buy a second sprite for breeding, too, doubling the damage to one fifteenth, which would be two hundred gone. With each generation, he’d have to buy a new breeding sprite if he were to avoid inbreeding. The making of each new generation would take him a day, four hours for the eggs to hatch, five hours for the caterpillars to reach a suitable size to pupate, and another hour for metamorphosis, and then another for the new sprite to reach sexual maturity and start either laying eggs or fertilizing them. He’d have to repeat that every day, which would make the expenses in both money and time ridiculous.

  “I bet that Okimoto agrees,” Shenelly said. “Don’t you? Big mighty mage boy.”

  “I agree with what?” Okimoto said, expelling his words with exhausting effort, not in the mood to argue.”

  “That submitting yourself to a god is the simpleton’s path.”

  Okimoto replied. “Everyone is different. People have their reasons for devotion or non-devotion; it’s not our place to spite others for those decisions.”

  “I disagree,” She said, annoyingly. “This country grants us all freedom of speech. So I believe everyone may criticise as they please, and may also be criticised.”

  Okimoto frowned. Shenelly was one of those insufferable people who always knew it better, and he wasn’t one to argue excessively with people. He said, “Fine. Please either talk about something else or leave me out of it. And don't speak about the gods in such a disrespectful manner, our first mother was one of them, blessings upon her.”

  Resuming his prior train of thought, he drew up a plan for how he’d go about remaking the ether sprite. Before, when imagining this scenario, he reasoned to himself that the process could be shortened. Taking a compromising approach, which would allow him some money and time for mage activities, he’d restrict himself to purchasing only nine new sprites per RVIS payment for the foreseeable future. This would cost him only nine coronus per payment, leaving him money for things like potions and other general utilities, including rent. He’d set aside nine days every thirty-three days for breeding the sprites, allowing him to complete the process in at least a year.

  For the past five days, he had also been training: first, an hour of physical exercise to get himself warmed up for the day; second, an hour of shadow boxing. He had realised that his biggest issue at the moment was his lack of exposure to genuine combat. On paper, he should’ve destroyed both the shadow crawler and the white-haired thug, but he wasn’t used to fighting with rituals. He had an academic understanding of how mage battles ought to be fought, but that couldn’t make up for not actually fighting them. His temper especially needed work, as he had come to realise that the white-haired thug had used a time acceleration ritual on himself to get the better of him. Had Okimoto remained calm, he would’ve realised it in time and performed the ritual himself. Then the altercation would’ve ended much differently. He had made a deadly mistake: he had hyper-focused on the physical aspect of the battle while neglecting the mental aspect due to his hurt pride. In a mage battle between two, the more emotionally compromised one would always be at a disadvantage, no matter who was superior in power. An emotional opponent will make rash decisions, overlook opportunities, and discard strategies. Okimoto had learned these things a long time ago, yet forgot them in the face of a heated situation.

  The news broadcast went on. After the matter regarding Gillian had been addressed, they cycled through one mundane topic after another. Okimoto waited to see if the Orion family would reveal the sprite today. Eventually, the broadcast ended, and a movie came on after the adverts.

  Three days ago, he had gone once more to see Mr. Bensisilli, showing him the memories of the attack. The man had quite a few unnecessary things to say and was quick to whimper when Okimoto asked him to step outside.

  He hadn’t heard from Kariggan or any of his friends from university. He also never called Iomy. It wasn't kind of him, especially since she offered to hear out his woes so earnestly. Okimoto hadn’t neglected her out of spite; he’d simply forgotten all about her; he’d best give her a call now.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  On the dresser, the phone rang as soon as he was about to get up.

  Aunt Yohanna paused her knitting and pranced over to pick up. “Oh, hi Kariggan. Okimoto, come, it’s for you!”

  “It’s been some time, man,” Kariggan said to him after Okimoto took over the phone. “I hope you’ve been doing well. I handed in my essay this morning; it’s the end of school life for me, at least, for now it is,

  “Iomy said the other day that you plan on cutting ties with your family. Is that true?”

  “Yes indeed. It probably won’t do much to help your situation, though, it’s mostly because I need to get away from that house. I can’t sit by my father’s table in good conscience anymore. It’s not just about you, it’s about a lot of things.”

  “That’s right, you can’t tell everything about your family because of a ritual they have on you.”

  “Yes.” Kariggan chuckled.

  “There are plenty of ways around that, aren’t there?”

  “Not for me. If the ritual fades for whatever reason, I’ll die instantly. There’s no way out of it.”

  . Okimoto wouldn’t press the matter, but he was already making plans in his mind. One way or another, he’d expose everything about the Orion family to the world.

  Continuing, Kariggan said, “The reason I phoned you is that I, Dolly, Joyggan, Iomy, and Crystella will be going out shopping later. We’ll be going down Spindle Street around the sixteenth hour. They wanted to know if you’ll come along.”

  “I’m not rich like you all.”

  “Neither is Iomy, but she’s still coming.”

  Okimoto gave it some thought. It felt rather strange for him to go out with his friends at this tumultuous time. He had already been rather unproductive these past five days, having spent the time he wasn’t exercising chasing up the investigation by phoning the State Treasury for Magically Gifted Youth repeatedly. He was told day after day that word back from the Geazish Secret Services was still pending. While he had initially planned on seeking out employment opportunities, he decided to let that wait after considering the white-haired thug's words. He was certain not much would come from applying to major guilds; the tendrils of the Orions extended far. Another day of inaction would do him no good; he already felt guilty for staying with Aunt Yohanna for so long without taking concrete steps. Aunt Yohanna was his legal guardian, not his actual mother. As kind as she may have been, he’d rather not burden her further. Plus, he was a grown man, and a man’s worth was his competence at the things he did.

  The rejection of his friend group’s invitation rose up on his tongue before a thought kicked it back down. Actually, perhaps he could turn this into something to push his situation forward. Crystella would be there, and she was of the Anthian family, which outranked the Orions. She had expressed support for him the other day, wishing he’d win against the Orions. Only now did Okimoto realise how valuable this connection was. Her father’s power extended far beyond Oddon’s easily. He could have Okimoto unblacklisted!

  “I’m coming.” He said.

  “Great! The sixteenth hour, don’t forget that. We’ll be waiting at the Spindle Street entrance facing Union Station. I’ll see you there.”

  With that, Kariggan hung up.

  Checking his watch, Okimoto saw that it was the thirteenth hour at the moment. From East Toaddor junction, it took only five minutes to get to Union Station by train. He had nothing to do now, so he might as well go early. He’d browse around for an hour, then return to the entrance to wait for them.

  “Move it,” Shenelly said, nudging past him to get to the phone. “I’m gonna phone Lanalisa. I plan on cooking dinner today and want her to taste it.”

  Walking over to hover behind Yohanna on the couch, Okimoto said, “I’m going to head out with some friends later. I know it sounds irresponsible, but I have a theory that one of them might be of help.”

  “It’s not at all irresponsible, Darling.” She said, smiling up at him. “You have a right to live your life and have fun like any young strapping chap. Who’s this friend of yours?”

  “Crystella Anthian.”

  “My goodness! Look at you having connections in high places.”

  “If I strengthen my connection with her, her father could do me a favour by halting any attempts the Orions might make at ruining my career.”

  “Well, he’s a noble, too. He might not side with you over his own tax bracket. But trying wouldn’t hurt, I suppose. Besides, if this doesn’t work, I have more than enough experience with non-official mage jobs to give you some advice.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course! Back when I was your age, women mages were excluded from combat-centred mage guilds. Many had to make do with less profitable and safer jobs, and those like myself who wanted real money had to dip our fingers in the underworld.”

  “Scum mage work, you mean.”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t called that back in those days. I prefer the term unofficial mage work. it was a lot more dangerous, but it paid very well. Mother kicked me out for it, but it didn’t matter since I made double what she did as a foster mother. I ate well in the years leading up to the war.”

  Okimoto had never asked about her past before. He did hear from the Headmaster that Aunt Yohanna was an arch mage and among the first women to receive that rank through combat. According to him, she had many magnificent accomplishments: killing three generals and two enemy arch mages, and downing over a hundred of the Coronatian empire’s war planes, alongside wiping out droves of enemy combatants.

  “I never asked you about the war,” Okimoto said. The war with the Coronatian empire was a sour subject for most people, especially the older generations who fought it.

  This was primarily due to cultural reasons, as it was taboo for women to be exposed to any form of physical violence in the eyes of society. Of course, Coronatian women even back then were much better off than women in non Coronatian countries in the modern day. Geaze, Hitominia, Viriticily, The Democratic Republic of the Former Coronatian Empire, North Mandigogo. These were a few countries with Coronatians as the primary population, and they all had one thing in common: a woman’s council headed by a Mother Matriarch. They were in charge of civil rights and the regulation of new laws, a tradition going back over fifteen hundred years. Because of this, egalitarianism had always been at the forefront of Coronatian society. That being said, ever since the Founding of the original Coronatian Empire, one thing had always been agreed upon: that women were to be kept away from violence. The Goddess, known as our first mother Neafuma, had sacrificed herself to secure the future of all Coronatians. In the name of honouring that sacrifice, no woman would ever be made to sacrifice herself again.

  But this taboo was broken thirty years ago, halfway through a war waged in the name of democracy, in which the Democratic Coalition sought to strip away power from the imperial family.

  The issues stemmed from the high levels of desertion seen during the war effort; particularly, non necrovangelical mages fleeing to far off parts of the world, wishing to not involve themselves. It was why women mage’s like Aunt Yohanna were actually allowed to go and fight, as the numbers of magically gifted combatants on the side of the Democratic Coalition were far too small. This further added to the negativity, as many men saw protecting women as their duty. In the end the war was won, Divine Emperor Horiziyan was killed by his democrat allied twin Gidoko who ascended to the thrown and immediately abolished the imperial dynasty, happily becoming a cultural symbol with no say in politics. Following the regime shift, the Coronatian empire split into the previously mentioned countries, but the general attitude among the public was that the war was a failure and a clear show of how men had lost their honour.

  Aunt Yohanna chortled. “Do you think it’s a sore subject? It isn’t, darling. I thought for our country’s independence, there’s nothing to regret about that. At least not for me, there isn’t. I managed to make it out with all my peas in the pot. I can’t say that for some others I know.”

  “What was it like after the war?”

  “Afterwards, life didn’t go as smoothly as I thought it would. I couldn’t get a well-paying job after the war, so I went back to my unofficial mage work. Eventually, the women's council started investing more into the foster system, and my mother started being payed more by extension, and I reconnected with her, giving up on the underworld.

  “About the unofficial mage work. Where would I go to get started at that?”

  “Black tunnel market.” She said. “That’s the best place to go.”

  , He mused darkly.

  “What’s with that look?” Yohanna asked. “I know it doesn’t sound glamorous, but nobody has any right to judge you for it. We all have to survive somehow. That’s a fact of life. Nobody should be frowned upon for trying to survive in a system rigged against them. Of course, this is assuming things don’t work with you and the Anthian girl.”

  Hopefully, they would. Suddenly, the stakes seemed a lot higher.

  Yohanna had finished knitting, adding what he now saw was a dress to a pile beside her on the sofa.

  “There we go.” She said. “This belongs to Pyunaan. It tore after Fineggan pushed her into some bushes while playing in the backyard. Stupid boy, he ought to be more gentle now. He’s at that age when he’s starting to get bigger than the girls.”

  Pyunaan and Fineggan. A girl whose parents were killed by a smiling troll and a boy whose parents were slaughtered by succubi. In recent days, he had gotten to know some of the kids, though it was pointless as they’d be gone in no time.

  “You oughta give him a good belt whipping for that,” Okimoto said.

  “Gosh, no.” Aunt Yohanna cackled.