A Banner Torn (Book 1 Complete)

Kaelid:

The first sign that something was wrong came from the livestock.

He noticed it during his morning chores, the way the chickens huddled together in the far corner of their coop, refusing to venture near the eastern fence. When he scattered grain for them, they pecked nervously at the feed while constantly glancing toward the forest, as if expecting something to emerge from the tree line.

"They've been like this for days," his mother Maerwen said, joining him by the chicken coop. "Ever since those Collegium people arrived. I thought it might be the strangers making them nervous, but even when the visitors are nowhere near, the animals act spooked."

Kaelid frowned, studying the chickens' behavior more carefully. His enhanced perception picked up subtle details, the way their heads tilted at specific angles, how they avoided certain areas of the yard entirely, the rapid flutter of their heartbeats that spoke of genuine fear rather than simple nervousness.

"It's not just the chickens," he said. "Have you noticed the birds?"

Maerwen followed his gaze toward the forest edge, where the usual morning chorus of songbirds was notably absent. The trees that normally hosted dozens of species stood silent and empty, as if the wildlife had collectively decided to avoid the area.

"Now that you mention it," she said slowly, "I haven't heard a single robin in three days. And old Henrik mentioned his cows won't go near the eastern pasture anymore."

A chill ran down Kaelid's spine that had nothing to do with the morning air. Animals were often the first to sense danger, their instincts attuned to threats that humans might miss. If the livestock throughout the village were displaying similar behavior, it suggested something was fundamentally wrong with their environment.

He finished his chores quickly and made his way to the village square, where he found Rannek helping his mother carry supplies from their cottage to the market stall. His friend's expression brightened when he saw Kaelid approaching, but there was an underlying tension in his posture that suggested he had noticed the same disturbing signs.

"The animals are acting strange," Rannek said without preamble, confirming Kaelid's suspicions.

"Everywhere?"

"Everywhere. Mother's been complaining about the goats refusing to graze in certain areas, and I heard Farmer Willem say his sheep have been clustering together like they're expecting a storm."

They were interrupted by the approach of Brannic, the dragonkin's scaled features set in an expression of grim concern. His golden eyes swept the village square with the systematic attention of someone conducting a security assessment.

"You boys," he said, his voice carrying an undertone of urgency. "We need to talk. Now."

He led them away from the square toward his forge, but instead of entering the building, he guided them around to the back where they could speak without being overheard. The morning sun cast long shadows across the yard, and Kaelid noticed that Brannic positioned himself so he could watch both the forest edge and the village approaches simultaneously.

"I've been finding tracks," Brannic said without preamble. "Human tracks, but not from anyone in the village. They circle the perimeter, always staying just inside the tree line, always positioned to observe without being seen."

"How many people?" Kaelid asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.

"At least three, possibly more. They're good at covering their trail, but not good enough to fool dragonkin senses." Brannic's nostrils flared slightly. "They carry unfamiliar scents, metal and leather, with an undertone of something chemical. Not natural."

Rannek's face had gone pale. "The Praxis."

"Most likely," Brannic confirmed. "The timing is too convenient to be coincidence. They arrive shortly after your Collegium tutors, which suggests they've been monitoring the situation and waiting for the right moment to begin their own surveillance."

The implications hit Kaelid like a physical blow. The Praxis wasn't content to wait for political maneuvering or legal challenges. They were taking direct action, positioning themselves to observe and potentially act against the village and its inhabitants.

"What do we do?" he asked.

"For now, we continue as normal," Brannic replied. "But we stay alert, and we don't give them any reason to escalate their surveillance into direct action. That means no obvious displays of your abilities where they might be observed."

The warning felt like a cage closing around them. Just when they were beginning to understand and develop their capabilities, they were being forced to hide them again. But Kaelid understood the necessity, revealing the full extent of their abilities to Praxis observers would only confirm their value as targets.

They spent the rest of the morning trying to maintain normal routines while remaining hyperaware of their surroundings. Every shadow seemed to hide a potential watcher, every unusual sound suggested surveillance equipment or hidden observers. The village that had always felt like a safe haven now felt exposed and vulnerable.

It was during their afternoon break that they decided to visit Curio and Lexicon in the forest clearing. The need for answers and guidance outweighed the risk of being observed, especially since they had been visiting the clearing regularly for months without incident.

The journey through the forest felt different now, charged with tension and the constant awareness that they might not be alone. Kaelid found himself using his enhanced perception to scan for any signs of human presence, while Rannek seemed to be relying on his intuitive abilities to sense potential threats.

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They reached the clearing without incident, but both boys remained on edge as they approached Curio's pool. The slime's translucent form rippled with what seemed like agitation, its usual calm demeanor replaced by something approaching anxiety.

"You sense it too," Kaelid said, settling beside the pool. It wasn't a question.

The forest feels wrong, Curio replied, its surface vibrating to produce the words. There are presences that do not belong, minds that observe without understanding. They carry the taste of metal and cold purpose.

Lexicon emerged from its hiding place among the rocks, shifting from journal form to its natural mimic shape with obvious relief. The baby creature's large eye blinked rapidly as it extended pseudopods toward the boys, seeking the comfort of contact with familiar minds.

"We think the Praxis is watching the village," Rannek said, gently touching one of Lexicon's extended appendages. "Brannic found tracks, and all the animals are acting spooked."

That would explain the disturbance I have been sensing, Curio said. These watchers do not understand the natural rhythms of the forest. Their presence creates... dissonance.

Lexicon chittered softly and began projecting patterns of light across its surface. The display showed a rough map of the village and surrounding forest, with several points marked in pulsing red light.

"Observation posts," Kaelid realized, studying the projection. "Lexicon can sense them?"

The mimic bobbed in confirmation, then shifted its display to show energy patterns that were clearly artificial, the signatures of technological surveillance equipment rather than natural consciousness.

"How long have they been there?" Rannek asked.

Lexicon's display flickered, showing a timeline that suggested the surveillance had begun shortly after their return from the capital, but had intensified significantly in the past few days.

"They're escalating," Kaelid said grimly. "First passive observation, now active surveillance."

We should focus on what we can control, Curio said, its tone carrying the weight of ancient wisdom. Your development continues regardless of who watches. Perhaps it is time to explore new aspects of your abilities.

The suggestion sparked Kaelid's curiosity despite the circumstances. They had been so focused on perfecting their status displays that they hadn't fully explored what other information their enhanced consciousness might be able to access.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.

Your displays show basic information about your current state, Curio explained. But consciousness is more complex than simple energy levels and ability ratings. There are deeper layers of information that might prove useful.

Lexicon chittered enthusiastically and projected a new display, this one showing the boys' familiar status screens but with additional sections that had previously been hidden or inaccessible.

"Skills," Rannek said, studying the projection with growing excitement. "It's showing things we know how to do."

Indeed, the new section of their status displays revealed a detailed breakdown of their capabilities, not just their enhanced abilities, but practical skills they had learned through training and experience. Kaelid could see entries for sword work, tracking, enhanced perception, and dozens of other abilities, each with what appeared to be a numerical rating indicating his level of proficiency.

"This is incredible," he breathed, activating his own status display and navigating to the newly revealed skills section. "It's like having a complete inventory of everything we've learned."

"More than that," Lexicon printed on a page, showing connections between different skills and how they might be combined or enhanced. "Skills can be shared, transferred, even improved through conscious effort. Be aware of the energy cost."

The implications were staggering. If they could share skills directly, they could accelerate each other's learning in ways that would normally take years of individual practice.

"How does it work?" Rannek asked, his own excitement evident in his voice.

Lexicon's response was to demonstrate. The mimic extended pseudopods toward both boys, and suddenly Kaelid found himself experiencing a rush of sensory information that wasn't his own. For a moment, he could see through Rannek's eyes, feel through his enhanced senses, understand the world from his friend's perspective.

But more than that, he could access Rannek's knowledge directly. Skills and techniques that Rannek had mastered became temporarily available to him, as if they had been downloaded directly into his consciousness.

The sensation was overwhelming and exhilarating, but it lasted only a few seconds before Lexicon broke the connection. Both boys gasped, feeling suddenly drained but also amazed by what they had experienced.

"That was..." Kaelid struggled to find words for the experience.

"Incredible," Rannek finished. "But exhausting."

Skill transfer requires energy, Curio explained. The more complex the skill, the greater the cost. And the transfer is not permanent, without practice and reinforcement, shared skills will fade over time.

Despite the limitations, the potential applications were enormous. They could teach each other techniques that would normally require extensive individual training, share insights and perspectives that would enhance their overall capabilities, and develop their abilities in ways that would be impossible working alone.

"We should try it," Kaelid said, his excitement overriding his caution. "Something simple, to see how it works."

Rannek nodded eagerly. "I've been working on a new fishing technique, reading the water patterns to predict where fish will be. Want to try learning it directly?"

The process was more complex than Lexicon's demonstration had suggested. They had to establish a conscious connection between their enhanced abilities, align their energy patterns, and then carefully transfer the specific knowledge without overwhelming each other's consciousness.

It took several attempts before they achieved success, but when the transfer finally worked, the results were remarkable. Kaelid suddenly understood the subtle signs that indicated fish movement beneath the water's surface, the way current patterns revealed feeding areas, the optimal timing for different casting techniques. It was as if he had spent months learning the skill through trial and error, compressed into a few moments of direct knowledge transfer.

But the cost was significant. Both boys felt drained afterward, their energy levels noticeably depleted by the effort required to share consciousness in such an intimate way.

"It works," Rannek said, slumping against a tree trunk. "But we can't do it very often."

"Not without understanding the energy costs better," Kaelid agreed. "And not without, "

He was interrupted by a sudden change in Curio's demeanor. The slime's form went rigid, its surface taking on a crystalline hardness that spoke of alarm and defensive preparation.

Something watches from beyond the trees, Curio said, its voice tight with tension. It searches for us now.

The boys froze, their enhanced senses suddenly alert to every sound and movement in the forest around them. Kaelid's perception swept the tree line, searching for any sign of human presence, while Rannek seemed to be relying on his intuitive abilities to sense potential threats.

For a long moment, the clearing was silent except for the gentle sound of water lapping against the edges of Curio's pool. Then, just at the edge of Kaelid's senses, he felt the observation fade into the distance as its focus swept further along the forest.

Whoever had been looking for them was gone.

Far away, in a temporary facility hidden deep in a natural cavern off of a disused mining shaft, a figure in dark clothing removed a crystalline viewing device from his eye and smiled with cold satisfaction. The surveillance had revealed less than he wanted, not definitively locating them, but he had sensed the vague area they were in.

The contact faded as the observer terminated the connection, leaving the forest and returning to himself in the cave.