The crackling fire outside cast flickering shadows across the rough-hewn walls of the lean-to. Its warmth was a needed distraction to the biting cold outside and the freezing gaze with in.
Femi sat cross-legged on a worn fur rug, his breath visible in the chilled air as he stared into the steaming bowl of broth cradled in his hands. The rich aroma of simmered meat and wild herbs filled the space, mingling with the earthy scent of damp fur and pine resin from the fire.
Varga sat across from him, her piercing eyes reflecting the firelight as she studied him. The glow in her irises had dimmed, but traces of that otherworldly light still lingered, like embers waiting to be stoked. The silence between them was heavy, charged with unspoken questions.
Femi's mind raced, his claws tightening around the warm bowl. Oh boy, they don't catch me, he thought, his pulse quickening, with the implications of the situation.
What am I going to do now?He pondered how she had noticed something, when she had noticed it, and why she was asking him now. He replayed every interaction since meeting her were had he slipped up? The cooking fire's embers popped, scattering orange sparks into the air as he met her glowing eyes.
He replayed the moment Varga had confronted him, how her gaze had sharpened, how her voice had taken on that knowing edge. "I have to figure out a way to deflect the heat off me."
He steadied himself, meeting her stare without flinching. The broth's steam curled between them like a fragile barrier.
Femi's gaze never wavered as he deflected, "What type of accusation are you accusing me of?" Femi challenged, his voice carefully measured. "And first of all, I should be the one questioning you. Your fellow warriors tied me up to a pole for two days, and you never answered for that. And even now your eyes were just glowing. Not with intensity, no your eyes are actually glowing. What's up with that? Are you using some kind of juju?"
Varga didn't react to his deflection. The firelight danced across her sharp features as she exhaled slowly, her breath misting in the cold air. "Just tell me the truth," she said, her voice low but firm. "Stop trying to deflect the question." She leaned forward slightly, the fur-lined collar of her tunic brushing against her jaw. "I'll make it simple. You tell me yours, and I'll tell you mine. Fair enough?"
Femi hesitated. The offer was suspicious. He glanced at the fire, watching the flames lick at the charred logs. What does she really want?. He hesitated for a moment more before responding, "I don't know what you're presuming I have," he said slowly lifting his gaze back to hers "but sure, you go on first."
Varga exhaled, her shoulders relaxing slightly as if she'd expected his resistance. She set her bowl down on the floor between them, the broth's surface shimmering with droplets of fat. "About your first question…"
She flexed her bandaged arm, testing the healing flesh beneath. "I remember telling you that as long as you belong to a Krag, you'll be treated well. That applies to those under a krag's control."she took a pause to stare into the fire.
"However," she continued "those under a krag's control are seen as second to the krag's warriors and members of the tribe or war band. So, you are considered lesser than every warrior."
"Simply put you're beneath every tribesman." She finished while staring at him.
"Ah, I kind of got that", Femi nodded, understanding the dynamics, a bitter pill but that was life. "So, you might be treated well by the one who took you, but that doesn't mean the others will give you the same courtesy." He, asked trying to confirm.
"Yes." Varga's fingers traced the rim of her bowl, as they sat down on a log. Her expression was thoughtful. "What happened to you was… a sign of that. It's normal.And I was thinking of a way to Change that for you, which we can discuss after you answer my question."
Femi's ears pricked and brow furrowed. "Change how?"The thought was intriguing, but Varga didn't elaborate. Instead, she ignored him, and continued, her voice dropping slightly.
"And as for the second thing… what you saw was....Kuros."
"Kuros"
"I knew it,"Femi muttered.
Varga's lips twitched, as if she'd caught his whisper, but she pressed on.
"Kuros is the world's energy, a gift from the gods, awoken by the dungeon."
Femi's mind reeled. "A gift from the gods?" The concept was staggering. "You gain that type of power from a god? How didn't I know of that? Wait, how's that supposed to work?" Is it like using jazz. His thoughts tumbled over one another, struggling to reconcile this revelation with everything he'd seen so far.
As they sat down with their steaming bowls of food in their arms, Vaga continued to explain the power of Kuros. "The use of Kuros, is a gift that very few are born with," her eyes calm and serious as she gazed at Femi.
"It is the chaotic energy of the world," she explained, her voice steady. "It surrounds everthing and is within every living thing." To illustrate her point, she reached for a nearby stick, half-buried in the snow near the lean-to entrance. She held it between her fingers, her focus narrowing.
Then, before Femi's eyes, a faint, flickering aura,like a ghostly flame, wreathed the stick. His breath caught.
"It is within the birds, the sea creatures, the beasts, even the risen creatures, and all races." She turned the stick slowly, letting the energy dance along its length. "And those who are able to tap into it are known by different names. Some call them the gifted or blessed. Others, those who see them as a danger, call them usurpers of the gods' power. But within the Circle, we call each other by the branch of power we wield."
Femi watched, mesmerized, as the energy pulsed faintly before dissipating.
"One of these branches is called Enchanters," Varga continued. "I fall under this. We can enchant and focus our Kuros to enhance our bodies, imbue our weapons, or enchant them with its power."
Her gaze grew distant, as if recalling something far away. "But there are said to be even higher levels of Enchantment, ones very few reach. She sighed.
"And then there are the Manipulators, those who wield the Kuros that surrounds the world into different forms. Be it ice, fire, or even light." She refocused on Femi. "We call the human Manipulators Weavers, while we call ours Shamans. But both are similar, they manipulate the Kuros within the world."
Femi's head spun with the implications . It means this isn't just jazz but some form of fundamental force."
Varga wasn't finished. "There are many more forms," she said, her voice taking on a storyteller's cadence by the campfire. "I've heard that creatures like the Catfolk of the west coast can use Kuros to change their forms. I have never seen it myself, just heard stories told by traveling warriors." She leaned in, her eyes locking onto his. "That's just the basics of what Kuros is. It's not just some 'juju,' as you keep calling it. It's everything."
Femi took a pause, processing the information Varga had just shared. He thought about the energy, Kuros and how it seemed to be a form of power that allowed people of this world to perform incredible feats. The different forms of it, the Enchanters and the Weavers/Shamans, each with their unique abilities.
But Femi's expression became puzzled. "I'm confused about something you said," he admitted. "You mentioned that Kuros is the energy of the world, gifted by the Gods, and awakened by a dungeon. What do you mean by 'awakened by a dungeon'?"
Vaga's eyes sparkled with understanding. "You see, to awaken Kuros within your body, you must first go through a trial," she explained. "And the trial is done within a dungeon. It opens you up, allows you to tap into the energy."
She leaned forward, her voice taking on a serious tone. "I told you about what a dungeon means to our people. You must first find yourself, confront your fears, and then overcome them. Only then can you awaken Kuros within you."
Femi's eyes widened as he listened, the concept beginning to sink in. "So, the dungeon is like a test, a trial by fire?" he asked, seeking clarification.
Vaga nodded. "Yes, exactly. It's a way to prove yourself, to push your limits and discover your true potential. And for those who succeed, the rewards are... substantial."