Tunay spoke up: "Speaking of Sezi, where are they? What are they doing?"
In the inn they'd run into the Erk group and shared their experiences with one another. While Poyraz and Esen talked about magic, Sevda complained about how hard the Erk training was.
After a while the subject had shifted to the Sezi group.
The musician girl in the inn had been listening to them all this while and cut in.
"Grandma Miren took them to a special cave. They'll stay there a few days."
"What cave?" Hazar asked curiously.
"A special cave where the 'reverie' is denser." She thought for a moment.
"Don't ask what reverie is and all that for now. You'll learn later. Eat your food and rest. A heavy week awaits you."
No one answered; they quietly scattered to the tables.
Poyraz asked, "So, Tunay, are you still curious about Erk?"
"Why wouldn't I be? What were they expecting? Isn't developing the body the most natural way for martial arts?"
"True…" said Poyraz. Then he asked. "Should we ask Sevda to teach us the alphabet?"
"You want to learn it by getting beaten? No thanks," said Tunay.
The two of them laughed. What interrupted them were two cups that suddenly appeared in the middle. Poyraz looked; Esen was handing out cups to every table.
"What happened? When magic got too hard, did you switch to waitressing?" Tunay smirked.
"I just wanted to help the others a little. After all, they give us food and a place to stay. They even teach us things." As she said this she gave a faint laugh.
"You're right. If you ask me they help too much. This much help makes a person suspicious." Poyraz lowered his voice and looked at the musician girl.
Esen asked, "Can't they just be good people?"
"It doesn't hurt to think the worst," said Poyraz.
"You may be right. But I don't think they have bad intentions. We're probably just more manpower for them," Tunay voiced his thought.
"Ahhh! Never mind! I'm hungry as a wolf!" Poyraz dove into the stew in front of him.
After a while the inn grew crowded. The smith and the woodcutter had come and taken a table. Behind them came the other two girls and the woman with the baby.
'This… how lovely,' Poyraz sighed. The atmosphere felt rather pleasant to him.
Like a warm home he'd never had…
Last of all came Togan and Erlin. The little inn was filled to the brim.
That day Poyraz learned a great deal.
The smith Feron told them about the creatures they'd encountered in the Ruined Lands.
Bodies with their souls torn out, motionless, just standing…
Ghosts that did nothing but scream and flee…
Eyeless Hounds the size of horses, with enormous ears…
Bleeding trees that walked on their roots…
"These are only the ones I've seen. The old man has most likely come across worse," said the smith.
The woodcutter Thal cut in.
"During a ruin expedition with the old man, I once ran into the leader of the Hounds. Back then I was still a spark. And before I even understood what was happening, the enormous Hound had appeared in front of me. If not for the old man, I'd have been dead."
"How did the old man kill that Hound?" Tunay asked.
"He didn't fight. He said the Hound was a Corebearer like himself, and got us out of there. Maybe he didn't want to take the risk."
He took a sip from his cup.
"So that fifteen-meter giant Hound is still roaming these steppes. I still tremble whenever that sight comes back to me."
The woodcutter told many memories like this.
Of city-sized lands suspended in the air, of the ruins of old civilizations, of strange phenomena…
Amid the conversations, night had fallen and the people had grown sleepy. Everyone began leaving the inn one by one.
Poyraz and Tunay headed for the house assigned to them.
Tunay went over to his own bed. "Goodnight," he said, and lay down.
Poyraz sat on his bed for a while. Through the window he watched the two shining stars, the moons, and the countless other stars winking in the distance.
Then he looked at Hak's bed; it was empty…
For the first time in a long while, Hak wasn't beside him.
A coldness came over him.
He felt like a stranger. To this world, to the village, to the people around him, even to himself…
He didn't know why, but the feeling was still there.
He turned over in his mind what he'd heard that evening. Bodies with their souls torn out. Blind Hounds. Fifteen meters. Bleeding trees. And things he hadn't yet seen, didn't know, couldn't even learn the names of.
Was he afraid?
He thought about it.
Yes.
But fear was no stranger to him. He'd been afraid on the nights he slept in the cold. On the days he'd spent longer hungry than full. The first time he'd run into the wrong man. In those few minutes he'd thought he'd lost Hak.
Each time, the same thing had happened.
Morning had come.
He closed his eyes. He didn't need to tell himself anymore—somewhere inside him, deep down, there was a place that came before words. It came from there.
'You will survive.'
Because he didn't know how to do anything else.
As the night wore on, the Village of the Exiled had fallen into silence.
A few kilometers from the village, Yalaz and Garrun watched the empty steppes from a hilltop.
"They're quite talented," said Yalaz.
"Yes," Garrun agreed. "Yavuz and Sevda are adapting very quickly. The other two aren't bad either, but those two stood out more in yesterday's training."
Without taking his eyes off the plain, Yalaz turned toward the shadow of the old tree behind them.
"How were the little sorcerers, Togan?"
"Hahaha! How do you notice so fast, master?" Togan stepped out from behind the tree and laughed.
The young man came over to them and cleared his throat; he'd turned serious.
"Aylin, that blue-eyed girl, could accumulate Yelvi quite quickly. Though the other four were successful too. Honestly, it surprised me that they grasped the 'Deep Breathing Technique of the Cold Steppe' in such a short time."
"I thought the same. Even if they're not all extraordinarily talented, their intelligence is striking." Garrun stood up and picked his spear off the ground. He aimed the spear into the distance, toward the far end of the steppe. Then he narrowed one eye.
"I hope it helps them survive these hard times," he said, not lowering his spear, still gazing into the distance.
"I can see it… The migration wave keeps growing. Now it's not just the Hounds; the others have started moving east too."
"Master…" said Togan, lowering his voice considerably.
Yalaz and Garrun, noticing the sudden seriousness in the young man's voice, turned to him.
"Master, doesn't all of this seem too suspicious to you?"
Yalaz's eyes closed, his face taking on a hard cast in the dim light. "What's suspicious, Togan?"
Togan stepped forward, clenching his hands inside his robe. "Thirteen people of unknown origin suddenly appearing on the outer circle of the Ruined Lands… and on top of that, the ripples beginning right when they arrived."
Yalaz was about to open his mouth when Togan, as if wanting to pour out all his suspicion in a single breath, hurried on:
"And the fact that this migration wave started right after their arrival. That even the shadow—which hasn't budged in years, which never leaves the boundary of the outer circle—has begun to stir."
Yalaz stayed silent. His silence was heavier than the cold of the steppe.
"And do you know what's stranger?" Togan swallowed; there was a faint fear in his eyes.
"On top of it, they claim to have come from a planet that has no energy, no Path of Kut, not even kor. These…"
"Ances—"
A very low, murmured word slipped from Yalaz's lips, but the old man suddenly stopped himself, gritting his teeth. Togan was so focused on his own arguments that he didn't even hear this unfinished word of the master's.
"These are far too suspicious and frightening, even for this ill-omened land," Togan finished, out of breath.
Togan looked at the old man, waiting for some confirmation or explanation. But Yalaz's eyes were locked on the far distance, on that dark border beyond the steppe. As if his mind were no longer there, on that hilltop.
Garrun put his hand on Togan's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. The calm voice that broke in dispelled some of the tension in the air.
"Calm down, Togan. They're orphaned children who survived an extraordinary disaster and don't know what to do. The master knows very well what he's doing, whom he's accepted into the village."
For a while no sound was heard but the rustle of the leaves.
"Let's head back," said Yalaz.
Three shadows quietly returned toward the village through the darkness of the night, without a single word.
The next morning passed similarly for Poyraz. When he woke in the morning he applied the breathing technique, then went to breakfast with Tunay.
The only difference was that Aylin and Tekin, who were trying to learn Iskar's alphabet from Sevda, joined them too.
After a half-hour alphabet lesson, the group headed for the classroom where they'd spent most of their time for two days now.
Togan sat in his chair, waiting for them with a frown.
After everyone had taken their places, he began speaking in an irritated tone.
"Have you all decided which spell you'll learn first?"
He went on without giving them a chance to answer. He set one of the two books he'd shown yesterday on one table and the other on a different table. Then he opened the first page of each.
Pointing to the book on his right, he said, "Those who want to learn lightning come here, those who want to learn earth go to the other one."
Poyraz headed for the earth-magic book. Esen followed after him.
The remaining three—Tunay, Aylin, and Tekin—slowly headed for the lightning-magic book.
Poyraz began scanning the open page.
'What the hell is this?'
The page was made up entirely of meaningless shapes. As if it were written in some alphabet he didn't know.
From left to right, countless shapes were lined up one after another.
First a square, then behind it a triangle, behind that another triangle, a circle, a pentagon, another square…
Togan went on speaking in a needling tone.
"Luckily, to learn magic you don't need to know the Iskar alphabet."
He picked up the earth-magic book and, flipping through a few pages, went on.
"Memorize all the shapes on the first three pages of the books in order. Then come to me."
As Togan walked toward the door, he paused, and spoke without looking back.
"Carve the shapes not just with your eyes but with your mind. If you misremember even a single corner or angle, that spell will blow up in your hand."
'Three pages? Memorize? How is a person supposed to memorize this many shapes?'
While he was trying to shake off his astonishment, Tunay spoke up.
"Some magic. We have to memorize like we're studying for a test."
"I think it's fun," Esen answered.
"Then memorize them, Miss Magic Enthusiast."
"I'll memorize all of them," said Esen, and went on. "Want to bet?"
Tunay chuckled.
"Are you sure? I memorize fast."
"Scared?" Esen began to giggle too.
"Then whoever among us memorizes them all first wins the bet."
Tekin snapped, "Why'd you rope us in right away?"
"You scared too?"
Tekin couldn't answer and sat down in his chair.
Listening to them, Aylin asked an important question.
"What are we betting?"
Faced with this important question, Esen was thrown; she hadn't thought about what prize the winner would get.
"We'll decide later, never mind." Tunay brushed it off with a chuckle.
After a few giggles and chatter, the group began to focus and memorize.
As Poyraz watched what was happening from off to the side, he began wondering how he'd memorize them. He didn't think he could pull it off.
'Goddamn it!' Cursing inwardly, he too sat down and began to memorize.
'Square, triangle, triangle, circle, pentagon, square, an octagon? No, a nonagon. Then a square, triangle, square, circle…'
He began running the shapes through his mind.
'Square, triangle, circle…' After a while the shapes began to blur together before his eyes, turning into a meaningless crowd. He raised his head and looked at the one beside him.
Esen sat with her back straight, her lips unmoving as she looked at the page. There was neither strain nor haste on her face; as if she weren't memorizing the shapes but quietly conversing with them.
Poyraz sighed and turned back to his book.
An hour passed. Maybe two.
His eyes burned, his head throbbed. But something strange had happened—he no longer saw the shapes one by one, but in clusters. Square-triangle-circle came to his mind in a single breath, and so did the next sequence.
When he could close his eyes and recite the first page from beginning to end, the corner of his lips lifted slightly.
It was a small victory, but it was his.
'So this is how it happens,' he thought to himself. He'd forgotten his hunger, and his fear too. All that remained was the page, the shapes, and his own breath.