That same morning, just before the bell sounded, Poyraz and Tunay sat cross-legged on their beds, applying the 'Deep Breathing Technique of the Cold Steppe.'
"It's not growing…" said Tunay.
Poyraz stopped counting and took a deep breath. "Yeah, very slowly." Then he added, "So this is what he meant by 'for the rest of your life.'"
As Poyraz got up, Tunay broke his pose and let himself drop back onto the bed.
"I'm tired," said Tunay. He raised his right hand into the air, as if trying to measure something.
"BONG! BONG!"
As the familiar metallic ring of the bell echoed through the village's stone houses, the two of them left the house and headed for the square.
As he walked, Poyraz, out of habit, began watching what was around him.
Aylin, Sevda, and Tekin sat at a table, talking with one another. Tekin had a book in his hand and was waving it, showing it to Sevda.
'I'd like to read…' he sighed; he was curious about the books of this alien world. But he hadn't yet cracked reading.
Tunay had said he knew a little, but he couldn't read much either.
He went on observing.
Yavuz and Esen were sitting at another table. Their third was missing. He thought—the name was on the tip of his tongue.
'Sedef…' The shy girl's presence and absence were hardly distinguishable to begin with. When she wasn't around, he could barely remember her name.
'What are they doing in the Sezi training that they're not in the village?'
The group taking the Sezi training had been taken somewhere by the old woman Miren and hadn't been around since yesterday.
Hak was among them too, which was why Poyraz felt a kind of emptiness.
Then he saw little Devran. He'd gone off to a corner and was eating his dried meat alone.
'It must be hard.'
Devran's older sister, along with the other girl—whatever her name was—was in the group Miren had taken. So the boy had been left alone in this place he didn't know.
When Tunay and Poyraz reached the women handing out food, they quietly took bread and meat. Then they too moved to a corner and started eating.
As he bit into the hard, bitter meat, he was still lost in his thoughts.
"Fuck it." Tunay's curse pulled him back.
Tunay was trying to tear off a bite of the meat, but the dried meat refused to come apart, making a comical sight.
"Hahaha!" he burst out laughing.
"Is it funny?" Tunay shot a glance.
"Yes."
Tunay grunted and tried biting the meat again, this time managing it, though with difficulty. "Terrible food," he said.
"It is," said Poyraz, then added, "But it could be worse."
Tunay didn't answer; he seemed not to want to argue with this street kid.
As they ate, when the familiar metal bell rang again, they got up. The two of them headed for the classroom they'd gone to yesterday.
Along the way the others joined them too.
Togan greeted the group—Poyraz, Tunay, Aylin, Tekin, and Esen—in the village's little classroom.
A small, dusty classroom and the same desks. On one of the tables sat the three books he'd seen yesterday too.
He didn't tell them to sit. He sat down himself.
The five of them looked at each other. Then they sat too.
Togan picked up the cup of water on the table. He just held it.
Poyraz observed. Nothing happened. Aylin was waiting too, and Tunay. Tekin had leaned slightly forward; whether out of curiosity or because he'd slumped, Poyraz couldn't tell.
Then he saw something on the outside of the cup. A thin mist. It was slowly thickening.
The cup had gone cold.
Togan set the cup down. "It's my kor," he said. "I can change the temperature of whatever I touch." He paused.
"I learned it when I was twelve. I burned the food without meaning to. That day I went hungry."
Esen and Aylin tried to hide their giggles.
Poyraz didn't laugh but leaned in slightly to look at the cup. The cup was still cold. It was real.
'Interesting…'
"Do we have a kor too?" asked Tunay.
"You do," said Togan.
"Do you know what it is?"
"No."
Tunay was about to ask something else; Togan went on.
"You'll discover your kor yourself."
He coughed and took up the other two books he hadn't opened yesterday.
"What we call magic is analyzing and copying someone else's kor. You can do it without knowing your own kor."
He opened one of the books.
"I have some spells in hand. Someone analyzed and recorded them before. You'll just apply them."
"When do we start?" asked Esen.
Togan looked at her. "Now."
Esen sat up straight.
"But first you have to accumulate Yelvi," said Togan. "Without that, nothing else means anything."
Poyraz sat cross-legged. He put his right hand below his navel. Togan came and corrected it—moved his hand up slightly.
Togan said, "Five, seven, as you learned yesterday," and sat down in his chair.
Poyraz counted.
Five, seven, stop.
The spark in Poyraz's head was growing, slowly but surely. It was still very small, but it was growing.
'Like a little star… shining. Radiance?' A theory crossed his mind in that moment, but he didn't dwell on it. There were more important things right now.
As the five of them applied the breathing technique they'd grown a bit used to, the sun shifted its place.
Togan's voice came. "Try directing it."
Poyraz didn't quite understand what to do.
"Think of the thing in your head," said Togan. "Then push it toward your hand. As if passing it through a circuit."
Poyraz tried. In the first few attempts nothing happened.
Then a sharp burning came on the left side of his neck.
"Ah—" He grabbed his neck with his hand.
Togan was beside him. "Normal," he said. "Keep going."
"It hurts."
"I know."
His voice hadn't changed. Neither pity nor harshness. Just information.
Poyraz pulled his hand away. He tried again. The burning came back—this time spreading toward his shoulder. He clenched his teeth.
When the sun withdrew behind the mountains, Togan stopped them.
No one spoke much. Esen was rubbing her neck. Tekin stared at the ground.
Poyraz put his hands on his knees. His neck was still burning.
Before leaving, Togan turned.
"Tomorrow you'll start learning magic," he said. "Decide now whether you want lightning or earth."
He paused.
"And apply the breathing technique whenever you find time. Accumulating takes a while."
Togan went outside, and then conversation broke out in the little classroom.
Poyraz asked Tunay. "Which one?"
Tunay leaned back and started watching the ceiling. "Don't know, could be lightning, could be earth. You?"
"I don't know… Maybe earth?" He tried to move his neck; the pain was slowly easing.
Tunay looked at him. "Why?" he said.
"No idea." He sighed.
A thousand and one thoughts were tumbling through his mind.
'Kor, breathing technique, Yelvi, spells…'
He felt overwhelmed.
A girl behind him spoke.
"I'm going to choose earth. What are you going to choose, Aylin?"
Esen's face was blooming. Her voice was so excited that when Poyraz turned around to see what was going on, the thoughts in his head had already flown away.
Aylin answered gently. "I think I'll try lightning. It sounds more fun."
"Right?" said Tunay, then went on, "Earth seems kind of dull next to lightning."
Esen pouted for a moment, but it didn't last; she snapped back to her usual self at once.
"Don't say that. Think of lifting a whole bunch of rocks and hurling them. That sounds cool too."
Tunay thought for a moment.
"Could be. Maybe what they call lightning magic is just a little current. Maybe what we call earth magic is something that can lift mountains. We don't know."
He went on with a laugh, "Heehee! At least we don't have to stick to just one. We can actually choose both."
"That's very greedy," said Aylin. "But I like it. It sounds nice," she went on with a laugh.
"Will you even be able to learn both?" The voice belonged to Tekin, who'd been quiet until then.
"No idea," said Tunay.
As the five of them talked, they headed for the village inn for dinner.
"I told you—with that 'archive' memory of his, he drew a map right away," Poyraz was recounting what they'd been through in the valley, laughing.
"So where on the map are we?" Aylin asked curiously.
"I asked the old man. We're behind the mountains to the west of where we first arrived. Those mountains over there are the ones." Tunay pointed to the distant mountains with his hand.
Beyond the mountains surrounding the plain they were on, there were, in the far distance, high mountains that looked impossible to cross.
Tunay took a piece of leather from his pocket and unrolled it.
"When I asked the old man where we were, he gave me this old map. He said it's not entirely accurate, but it's a fairly acceptable map. A pretty generous fellow."
He showed the map to everyone and went on.
"The map doesn't look too encouraging."
Poyraz looked at the map. There was a lot of Old Common writing on it. In some places there were drawings of ruins, in others various creature markings. What caught his eye was that the whole area was surrounded by mountains.
"As you can see, we're completely surrounded by mountains. If you don't count the sea. I think where we arrived on the first day is somewhere around here."
The place he pointed to was somewhere to the east of the large region surrounded by mountains. That area was ringed by mountains too, but according to the map the ones there were fewer in number and lower. The empty circular region was drawn there as well.
"Where are we on this map?" Poyraz asked.
"Here." Tunay's hand pointed to a small spot beside the mountains that split the map in two. A house symbol…
"The exiles…" Poyraz sighed.
He'd murmured it, but everyone had heard.
"Anyway, let's eat our meal." As he said this he rubbed his stomach and went into the inn.
As night went on falling, a familiar shadow was climbing the terrible slopes of the Ruined Lands.
Each of its steps was slower, heavier than the last.
As if the more it advanced, the more the mountains pulled it back with a rope.
But it didn't stop.
It had to press on.
But sometimes, simply having to wasn't enough.
Just then, a powerful sound of beating wings echoed through the mountains from high above.
The shadow paused. It slowly raised its head.
Gripping the hilt of the black sword in its hand, it fixed its eyes on the darkness in the sky.