"Father, we have a fourteen-year-old Iron Dome. Should we proceed with the baptism?"
They had passed numerous smaller gates, each with different guards bearing increasingly sophisticated weapons, until they reached this garden.
A red-haired, red-eyed man sat leisurely as the young master addressed him casually.
"Go ask your sister," the man shooed him away.
"Why? I'll be his sponsor."
"No. You know the Duke Orders. Meet your sister first."
The young master gestured for Sol to follow him.
'There is an underlying procedure!' Sol thought.
At a pool, a woman paced along the water's edge, holding a fifty-page iron book and reading aloud in an unfamiliar language. She grew frustrated and repeated the passage, but the young master's presence disrupted her concentration.
"Please verify him. He has an Iron Dome!"
The tall, bronze-skinned woman stepped forward and appeared before Sol, startling him. Her hair was blood red, but her eyes were golden.
With an interested smile, she touched Sol's face, then frowned and walked away.
"He is not ideal." She flipped her book open and added, "Just tell the school to train him well. He has potential."
"What? Why?" The young master asked, clearly annoyed. He is ready to take Sol onto his team.
"He's disfigured," she said casually before returning to her book.
Sol's heart sank. What was it with people and their treatment of the disfigured?
He sighed internally—he knew the reason, but it wasn't his fault.
The boy turned to Sol. "What's your disfigurement?"
***
Sol walked out of the City Lord's mansion in a foul mood.
He was more than upset with these people, and he hated himself now more than ever.
He hated his body almost as his cursed name.
Why couldn't good things come to him for once and stay good?
Sol had been forced to undress before the young master.
At first, his elongated arm hadn't been an issue—the Young Master had been willing to accept him. But then the mansion's inhabitants began to whisper.
The same disgusting looks and insults kept coming.
They began persuading the young master not to take him—handicapped people brought bad luck, they said. Misfortune.
This led the boy to change his mind, which also resulted in Sol being forbidden from using Iron Dome again.
Without an Oathbound sponsor, no offensive abilities were permitted in the city without a license.
As a student, Sol couldn't obtain a license until the end of his first month of classes.
By the time Sol reached home, he had calmed down.
What would a slave do if he lost an opportunity? Complain to his master?
No. Sol didn't complain. He simply informed Zavien what had happened.
The mountain of flesh that was his master chuckled.
"I knew that would happen, but you don't need to worry. The more mastery you gain, the more people will look past your body. Just like me—only an idiot would refuse to work with me."
Hearing this, Sol felt slightly better. Besides, he might not have gained an Oathbound sponsor, but he had received a badge identifying who he was: Youngest Iron Dome Initiate.
Iron Dome was still a valuable skill, and anyone who learned was precious.
The next day at school, eyes followed him. Not only those in his class, but students from other years as well. Those who are already First Era.
He ignored them and sat down. Murmurs surrounded him, falling silent when he looked their way.
There was fear, but also pity. Sol assumed they knew what happened.
The orange-haired boy arrived late, trying not to look at Sol as he took his seat. Fear and uncertainty on his face.
The teacher entered with a smile. ''Sol! Fifty Ei for you!"
The class gasped, looking back at him with envy and awe.
"Congratulations, Sol!" said the girl who usually looked sleep-deprived.
Sol smiled and nodded to her. He was now on cloud nine, as if he'd taken one of those special substances Zavien used to enjoy for mood enhancement.
All manner of depression, awful thoughts, and negativity disappeared for five minutes before he returned to normal.
The teacher hadn't yet started the lesson, but was explaining something important.
"Being a mage is about solving problems. Don't think we'll teach you everything. You're only here for thirty days in this elementary class."
He paced around the class as he explained in seriousness.
"After that, you'll undergo a very difficult test. Those who succeed will work directly under the City Lord for one year. If you perform well, you'll have a chance of going to..."
He paused dramatically, "the Golden Capital!"
Sol's eyes snapped open. Now he understood what Zavien wanted. Just by learning, just by achieving mastery within a year, he would have a chance to reach the capital city.
'I'll work hard. I must not hold back. I'll do everything I can!'
The orange-haired boy suddenly raised his hand. Sol still hadn't learned any of their names—he didn't particularly care, though he was curious.
"Rolf, what is it?" Teacher Rabey asked.
"I'm wondering—those who were once possessed by demons, can they infect us, or are they clean?"
The class fell into deep silence. Sol clenched his book, his excited mood plummeting.
"All previously possessed individuals are clean as long as you see them in the city. Those who could infect others are always killed,"
Rabey answered before starting the lesson.
"Era is not the era you all know. Era is the term we use for the quality of Eiros you can wield."
The explanation was lengthy, but despite his dampened mood, Sol did his best to condense every hundred words into a single sentence.
They were all at Zero Era now—what they used was just their body's raw affinity to Eiros.
The teacher was in the Second Era, which allowed him to produce and distribute Ei freely.
To become First Era, they needed their Eiros Glass to possess at least a Grade 2 artifact or above.
The books they used were gradeless, but had the quality of growing with the user. Currently, they possessed Grade 1 quality, which wasn't sufficient.
A Grade 2 artifact would stimulate them and push their Eiros quality to First Era. Only then could they proudly call themselves mages.
A boy raised his hand. "What's the ideal grade one should aim for?"
"The highest you can achieve. There are seven grades of artifacts. If you got your hands on a Grade 7 artifact don't hesitate to use it. In fact, it's the most ideal."
"Wouldn't it be harder to use?"
"It would be. But the benefit isn't in using it immediately—it's in making yourself capable of using its abilities."
Teacher Rabey Salvador stood proud with a smile, "My own is Grade 4 artifact, stored deep within the Golden Capital."
He sighed and added, "I've only encountered it once, but I can invoke abilities I gained from it to some degree. By the time I reach the Fourth Era, I'll be able to use it properly."
The sleep-deprived girl asked, "What happens to artifacts when their user dies?"
"Simple. The artifact becomes dormant and waits for someone else to use it."
Rolf raised his hand again, and Sol sensed this wouldn't be a relevant question. "Why does demon possession cause disfiguration, and does having an abnormal body affect your chances of advancing in Era?"
"No, having a physically abnormal body doesn't affect Era advancement. And demon possession isn't the only cause of disfiguration," Teacher Rabey explained.
"Some are born that way. Of course, surviving demon attacks can change one's body. And there's another cause..." he trailed off, considering whether to tell them.
"Those who venture to the kingdom's edge without proper preparation will also be subject to bodily changes, and some of their descendants will suffer the same fate."
Silence fell. Sol thought carefully, realizing where his condition originated.
He had never been possessed, but his father was like him, as was his grandfather.
His mother's father had no arms at all.
It ran in their bloodline, which made Sol wonder: 'Does this mean my ancestors ventured to the kingdom's edge?'
He was deep in thought when an idea struck him. He raised his hand, then quickly lowered it.
He shouldn't ask that question.
"Sol, ask your question!"
He was startled, then stammered, "I... is the demon... I mean..."
Eyes were on him. He wasn't demon-possessed, but everyone thought he was, given Rolf's harassment through pointed questions to the teacher.
"Is demon possession the same as Eiros Glass possession?" another student finished his intended question.
"Yes, in general terms, but no when we examine specifics."
The teacher walked around the class, explaining which made everyone understood that, their teacher prepared it if they had a question as that was part of the class too.
Everyone began to take note regarding the questions and the answers.
The teacher smiled and nodded in approval.
Students needed to bring their confusion to him for clarification—perhaps they'd receive answers that would help them use their Eiros Glass properly.
"Possessing living and non-living things are different processes. As living beings, we can resist invasion through willpower or other means, but unfortunately, demon touch is poisonous which is why they sometimes succeed."
He waits for them to capture everything and continue.
"However, Eiros Glass possession of artifacts is beneficial the artifacts. You're refining and improving them the more you use them."
He fell silent, observing a girl who had condensed two hundred words into one. "Ten Ei for Linda!"
"The more demons—" he paused, then went back to his original topic.
Less demon and more normal lessons he needed in his class.
"If you acquire a Grade 2 artifact, it will aid you until you reach at least Era 2. Depending on compatibility, you might even reach Era 3."
This raised more questions, and Sol asked, "Without artifacts, how can one reach higher Eras?"
The teacher grew quiet before responding, "You see, artifacts are conduits—like using a hammer to bend metal. Without one, some might manage, but most will never."
The class continued for three hours.
Sol left the class. Now he knew the source of his disfigurement, but he was also elated.
In fact, under normal circumstances, he would thank Rolf for trying to belittle him through those questions— because he'd just gotten the perfect idea for how to help himself.
Sol didn't go home. He still had around forty Ei in his book.
He arrived at a tall building with academic design just steps from the school. A massive sign announced its function: "Iron Roll Library."
Sol muttered the name and went inside. As a student, he had free access to all books.
"Show me your book!"
Sol showed the cover bearing his real name. The man cross-checked before allowing him entry.
The space was vast—bigger than their clan library—with rows of bookshelves and students from higher levels moving about with books. Some sat at tables reading.
"Hey!" A grumpy old librarian called him over. She wore glasses perched on the bridge of her nose and stared at him.
"What kind of books are you here to read?"
"Anatomy."
"Human?" she asked.
Sol nodded. She directed him to the section. "No borrowing. You can only read here."
Sol reached the area and felt overwhelmed—the entire row was dedicated to the human body.
He calmed himself and selected the first volume that summarized everything. Still very thick, he found a table and sat down.
The introduction covered familiar material, and he opened his book and began copying the body sketches and descriptions.
He worked through every organ, writing and sketching.
He'd never been skilled at drawing, but the pen and book could translate his intentions into his unique language and deliver what he wanted.
In two hours, he'd copied all the important aspects from the book's first volume, and exhaustion set in.
With only ten Ei remaining, he dragged himself home.
***
Zavien had been pacing his hall, upset and angry, when someone ran inside. "We found him."
"Where?" Zavien's voice boomed, rattling the servant's bones.
"Coming from the library. He's on his way—no injuries, just tired."
Zavien took deep breaths. "I'll punish him for this."
Sol returned, went to his room. Having fifty Ei for the day, even though he'd used most of it, still left him with some energy.
He went to lunch.
"Ah, you're back!" Zavien said. His anger had subsided after some thought. "Come, let's eat."
Sol bowed and sat down, eating twice the amount Zavien typically consumed. Exhaustion came but he still had to report.
"Master, I went to the library today after learning that demon possession operates similarly to Eiros Glass possession, with some differences."
Zavien's eyes lit up. 'This boy already has these ideas?'
"So I thought—maybe if I can possess myself with my glass, I can help my body readjust and heal my disfigurement."
Zavien nodded. "That's a bold idea. It's also a path some mages take. Healers carefully tread it when treating others."
The huge man drank his juice and burped before continuing, "But it's difficult. You see me like this—"
'Slap!'
He slapped his enormous belly, watching it jiggle. "It's not actually the mystic bone I used that made me this way. Yes, I became obese, but this giant mass of flesh, bones, and fat was crafted by my choice!"
Sol was surprised. Without reservation, he scrutinized his master from head to toe—every layer of fat, every joint.
The man was truly horrifying to behold.