Sanctioned & Gifted
Underland and the Forehidden Kingdom, Chapter 28
Underland and the Forehidden Kingdom is a serialised, young adult, fantasy novel about an overconfident bookworm who finds himself in a parallel world where words are weapons, ideologies form fortresses, and intelligence without integrity may just cost you everything. If you’re new here, you can start from the beginning or check out the index.
RECAP: Under Wellworn’s tutelage, Keon has been introduced to three aspects of Mirror Mastery: Reflection, Cooperation and Independence. In the last test, he learns more about his Mirror than he bargained for. Not only does it have thoughts and feelings, it even has an appreciation for beauty and nature. Wellworn tells him that Mirrors are just as broken and in need of saving as the rest of humanity.
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Keon sat alert as his friends rounded a corner of bushes and entered the clearing. His eyes sifted from Shem, to Avana, to Kai and Dawit until they found Zahara. Her eyes met his and she smiled, looking down at her feet. Asya followed close behind, hesitant, with Jonas at the rear. Always at the rear. The smell of fresh, baking bread tickled Keon’s nose and set his stomach aflame. It sent him flying back vividly to that night in his bedroom. That all felt so far away now.
With his Mirror gone, he could relax. He’d even dosed off. Crap! Was he dribbling? He swiped the back of his arm across the corner of his mouth.
“What’s good, guys?” he said, trying to deflect.
“We smelt food,” said Kai, wincing as Avana’s elbow entered his ribs. “Ow! We’re here for you, bro.”
Keon arched an eyebrow.
“They are here for the next part of your training,” said Wellworn, wiping his hands with a damp cloth.
At that, Keon rose like a cat that had just spotted a rodent.
“Forging?”
“Not quite,” said Shem.
“Aw, come on man,” he wheezed, visibly deflating two inches.
“It’ll be good brother, we promise,” added Dawit.
Wellworn folded his arms as they all turned to face him, Keon reluctantly following suit.
“Dawit, I would like you to demonstrate a Sanction for our good friend Keon,” he said.
“A Sanction?” Keon echoed.
Dawit stepped out, rubbing his palms together in anticipation.
“Now then,” said Wellworn, “run to the edge of the island and back in five seconds.”
If there was anything in Keon’s mouth, he would have spat it out.
“What?!”
Dawit nodded and turned towards the path leading away from the crosswise table, bouncing on his feet in readiness.
“I mean, bro…” Keon didn’t want to say it, but his eyes staring at Dawit’s girth probably said it all. Dawit, however, just turned and winked.
He bent his knees, pushed off with his foot and a tidal wave of dirt and dust exploded in his wake, showering his comrades.
“WHOA!” said Keon.
Dawit was gone. Completely!
Before he had time to fully process what he’d just seen, Dawit came skidding back. All in exactly five seconds. Keon clawed the back of his skull with both hands.
“WHAT TH—!”
“Told you,” Dawit huffed, hands on his knees.
Keon released his cranium.
“How the heck did you do that?”
“He did as he was told,” replied Avana, arms crossed.
Keon’s eyes narrowed. He’d heard that before, back in the Narrow Strait. So that’s what that was.
“Sanctions are special powers given to us by the King,” said Kai. “They work via obedience.”
“In other words,” added Shem, stepping forward, “if Wellworn tells you to do somethin’, as long as you trust and obey what he says, you’ll be able to do whatever he tells you.”
“Are you serious?” Keon said. He turned to Wellworn who returned his look with a nod.
“What do you think you have been doing for the past few hours?” said Wellworn, a spark in his eye.
Keon blinked, realisation setting in. He hadn’t needed to go in ages. He’d been holding it the entire time.
“No way…”
“You remember what I told you, Keon?”
“The only thing I need you to do is exactly what I tell you…” he said.
Wellworn nodded slowly.
“And now, you may go,” he said, palms opening like a doorway. “I release you.”
Keon’s eyes bulged. Whatever grace had been holding him up until then violently left. He froze, arms straight with fists clenched at his side as he strained to hold it in.
“Let us give Keon a moment,” said Wellworn, turning to the others.
Keon blew a sigh of relief.
Shem led Keon up the mountainous slopes of Ir-Salem to the eastern side of the city. Keon took the opportunity to peer out over the vast terrain of Underland. He still wasn’t used to the lack of clouds, especially given how high up the encampment was, but a familiar blue haze settled on the distant lands like an azure fog, enshrouding the hilly surroundings of the Eastern Monument. He hadn’t been allowed to pack snacks for the journey, which unnerved him. After all, he’d just been made to hold his bladder for the good part of half a day, who knew what else was coming?
“So, why is it the others aren’t coming again?” said Keon, manoeuvring his way up the rocky hill.
“Wellworn asked me to handle this next bit.”
“Aren’t I learning about Sanctions though?”
“Yeah?” Shem replied.
“But…they work via obedience, and…you’re not Wellworn.”
Shem smirked as he clambered up and over an outcrop of rock, turning to give Keon a hand.
“You always think you have it all figured out, init?” Keon could have sworn Shem hoisted him up with extra force just to make a point. “So, are you gonna let me learn you a thing or two, or are we gonna have to re-tread old ‘istory?”
Keon threw his palms up in submission.
“Nah, we’re good.”
“Good.”
Shem stood with a knee up on a naturally formed rock step, signalling with his head for Keon to join him. Keon wobbled his way up then flapped his arms in panic, gripping Shem’s shawl. His toes peeked out over the edge of a sheer cliff face descending into a deep valley. What a valley was doing in the midst of a city, he didn’t know; but then again, this place was based off of the Empyrean and that place had all kinds of wild geography.
“This is the Valley of Decision,” said Shem.
“You don’t say…”
Shem turned to face him.
“Alright, so it’s pretty simple. You’re gonna cross the valley to the other side.”
Keon had seen this movie before.
“Pretty simple, yeah?” he said, sceptical. “What. Am I supposed to jump across?”
Shem smirked.
“Nah, you’re gonna walk.” Keon scrunched his nose in befuddled scepticism as Shem continued, “To answer your question, we call this ‘delegated authority.’ Wellworn told me to teach you. He didn’t specify how. So, this is as much a test of ‘ow much you trust your teammates as it is of ‘ow much you trust him…You understand what I’m tellin’ you?”
Keon’s eyes narrowed as he scanned Shem’s face, mentally piecing it all together.
“He told you to teach me…so, whatever you tell me to do…I’ll be able to do it. The authority flows through you like a chain.”
Shem clapped his hands and spread his arms wide.
“Thass’it!”
Keon rolled his eyes.
“Yeah. Sounds pretty simple.”
He went to take a step forward, but Shem’s hand barred his path.
“Listen, don’t believe you can do it. Just do it.”
“Thanks Nike.”
Shem let him pass, shaking his head. Keon edged closer to the drop as Shem took a couple of steps back. He leered over the edge; the really high, really steep edge which seemed to grow taller and taller the longer he stared at it.
“You ever done this before?” Keon asked.
“Course!”
“Does everyone fall the first time?”
Shem raised an eyebrow.
“If I said ‘yes,’ would it make a difference?”
Keon’s eyes dropped, considering.
“I’d like to think so…”
“Well…they don’t,” said Shem, his confident jaw outstretched. “Not all of ‘em.”
Keon’s mouth unconsciously dropped a half-inch. Now that was mad.
He turned and stared out over to the opposite end of the valley. A sudden gust of wind kicked up, ruffling the mushroom of curls on his head. His right hand found its way to his satchel, holding it tight. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but when his foot finally felt its way out, it found something solid. It was perfectly flat. Smooth, but with good grip. He pushed down on it a couple of times just to make sure, then took another step. Still this solid whatever-it-was held firm beneath him. He wouldn’t dare look down; his eyes fixed on the opposing cliff. Step over careful step, his pace quickened. Ok, at this point he had to look. He couldn’t not look. Dipping his chin, he closed his eyes and braced himself. When they snapped open, his arms were stretched out at his sides for balance; a balance he didn’t need, because whatever force was holding him up wasn’t letting go. Instead, he turned, scanning the world around him as he stood airborne in the midst of the valley. He gaped, exuberant. When the wind picked up again, he welcomed it, arms stretched wide to take it all in.
“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-HOOO!!!”
“Think of Sanctions as the backbone of any field mission,” said Avana, pacing around Keon, her arms behind her back. “The King’s command gives you everything you need to complete a task.”
She’d brought him to what may have been his favourite spot in Ir-Salem, the rainforest. He called it a rainforest because of the humidity, but they were actually in a wide, open space bordered by tropical plants. Tall Musa, vibrant Canna, Strelizia, bushes of Fatsia. Even purple Coleus! They almost glowed in the daylight breaking through the canopy. A trickle of water nearby added to the peaceful ambiance. The fragrances alone would have been enough to send him into the best slumber he’d ever had, but Avana had other ideas.
She stopped and swivelled on her foot to stare at him head on. Her massive eyes, once fierce, now burned with a different kind of fire, like a protective lioness.
“If he tells you ‘Go here,’ just trust that you will get there, and go! That way you can be certain…the success of a mission depends not on your own ability, but on how much you trust the King.”
“So, you shouldn’t ask questions?” said Keon.
Avana blinked slowly.
“That depends…”
“Cause it’s kinda my thing.”
“Questions are welcome. Doubts can be detrimental,” she said.
At the thought of seeing Dout, a chill ran like a knife’s edge along his spine. He wriggled himself free of it.
“How do you do it?” he said.
It was one of the few times she seemed genuinely stumped, cocking her head to one side as if to hear better.
“Do what?”
“You’re like…super focused,” he said, chopping the air with his hand. “You don’t, like…you don’t ever deviate. He tells you to jump and you don’t even ask ‘how high?’ you just jump.”
She looked down, a small, but beautiful smile etching its way between her lips. Then it retreated and she grew serious again.
“I did once…deviate,” she raised her eyes, noting Keon’s surprise. “Not here. Before.”
“Back in Bangladesh?” he offered.
She nodded, grave.
“We were fleeing an uprising…because of my parent’s work. They told me to stay close. I didn’t listen.” She turned away, as though trying to unsee her own memories. “I wandered beneath this bridge. I loved the water…but I saw things in the river a child should never see.”
Should he have said something? ‘Sorry’ felt like it wouldn’t quite cut it.
“So, no,” she continued. “I don’t deviate. Not even an inch. That way, everyone stays safe.”
“Is that why you’re so hard on everyone?” he said.
Her arms crossed her chest, waiting for the inevitable follow-up.
“Like,” he continued, swallowing. “It’s like no one’s allowed to make mistakes around you…”
“And why do you think that is?” she said, swiftly closing the distance between them.
“I didn’t think it was ‘cause you cared,” he shrugged.
She looked him up and down as though his very words stank, the leather of her bracers groaning between her crossed arms. Suddenly, she thrust her hand into the ground, cracks radiating like a web of scarred earth. The ground ruptured and gave way. Yanking her arm back, she dragged what could only be described as a small boulder out of the ground. She balanced it on her shoulder, pivoted, then threw it with a roar a good eight metres away. Keon flinched as it burrowed deep into the ground. She staggered back, turning to him in a huff.
“I can only do that…when I’m around you guys…Do you know why that is?”
“I don’t even know what I just saw,” he murmured.
“Because the gift’s not for me. It’s for my…the people who…it’s for my friends…My family.”
Keon grinned.
“Is that what we are, yeah? Even me?”
“OF COURSE YOU ARE, YOU…!” she faltered, closed her eyes and composed herself. “Of course you are.”
She walked past him and gently tapped his arm.
“As long as you keep that symbol on your back.”
“Alright,” said Kai. “Tell me them again.”
“Bro, again?” said Keon, arms hanging limp.
Now, this was a part of the island he hadn’t seen yet but he saw immediately why Kai liked it. They were basking in an idyllic orchard on the eastern side of the city, beyond the Valley of Decision. One of the four main rivers broke off into a tributary feeding the deep red soil on the slopes of the garden. Daylight bathed the ground, nourishing the apple, pear, cherry, and apricot trees that dotted the orchard. Kai was pacing, a forged basket of cherries under one arm and a half-eaten apple in the other hand. Keon sat cross-legged on the grass.
“Sooner you get this, sooner we can all get on with our lives. I ain’t got all day,” he said, cheek stuffed.
Keon sighed, shaking his head.
“Valley Fold, Mountain Fold, Squash Fold,” he mused, eyes rolling.
“And these folds are called…?”
Keon palm rubbed his eye.
“The basic Three-Folds.”
“And you need to know them because…?”
“Because you’re making me!” Keon said, flinging his arms in protest.
“Because you wanna learn bloody Forging, don’t you?”
“Bro! It’s folding paper! How hard can it be to fold paper? Why do they need names? Why do I even need to know those names?”
“Alright,” Kai dropped the apple in the basket and set it down. With a flick of his thumb, he unrolled a sheet of scroll Codex and tore it off, holding it out to Keon. “Show me a Valley Fold.”
Keon swiped the sheet and bent it, being careful to line up the corners.
“H-hey!” he yelped as Kai snatched it from his hands.
“Too slow.” Kai scrunched the paper into a ball and tossed it over his shoulder. He tore off a fresh sheet and held it out. “Try again.”
This time, Keon flattened the paper together with his hands. The result looked more like a misshapen star than a rectangle. Again, Kai snatched it, only this time he tore it.
“Too messy,” he said, ripping it in half, then in half again, and again before sprinkling the fragments like snowflakes. “Try again.”
When they were done, and Keon had had to admit defeat, it looked as though he’d been in a fight with a barn full of chickens. He blew a stray fragment out the corner of his mouth.
“Not so easy, is it?” said Kai with a shrug.
Keon kicked the pile of torn paper.
“Whatever man, I forged a whole weapon on my own back in Midnah-Dogu.”
“Cause you cheated.”
“I innovated…”
“You literally stole the technique, bro.”
Keon sighed, clasping his head.
“I know! Fine! I know.”
“And it didn’t even work ‘cause the materials were too weak,” said Kai, pointing an accusatory finger in Keon’s face.
“I know, but I believe it now!”
“Yeah? So, what happened the next time you tried it? Tell me.”
Keon heaved in a breath and blew it out.
“I was too slow.”
“You were too slow. How about that?”
Keon kicked the ground again.
“Alright man, don’t rub it in.”
“So do you get it now, genius?” said Kai, hands out pleading.
Keon nodded. Neither of them spoke for the next few moments.
“So, Kai,” Keon began. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Avana’s gift is super strength…”
“Nuh-uh,” Kai replied, shaking his head. “We ain’t doing that.”
“What, why not?”
“Cause you don’t need to know my gift,” he said, rapidly rolling up his scroll and grabbing his fruit basket.
Keon flapped his arms in exasperation.
“The Scribe said I’d have to discover your gifts for myself!”
Kai paused, still as a statue, then turned to Keon.
“He said that?”
Keon nodded vigorously.
Kai took another bite from the almost-eaten apple.
“Flip sake,” he muttered shaking his head. He closed his eyes. “It’s called discernment. Double-sight. When I split from my Mirror, I can see things from different perspectives. I can pick out Trespassers from Travellers, truth from falsehood…”
Keon threw his arms up, incredulous.
“Are you serious bro? Don’t you think we could’ve used that way back when?”
Again, Kai shook his head.
“You mad? To use my gift, I have to use my Mirror. I ain’t doing that.”
Keon pursed his lips in thought.
“Well…I mean, that I get.”
Kai rubbed the back of his neck.
“So what, are you drawing up some kinda plan or something?”
“For what? No, why?” Keon frowned.
“No reason.”
“Now that you have the Three-Folds down—more or less,” said Dawit, “we can move on to the Base Folds.”
“Are you serious? There’s more?” said Keon.
They were standing by the same pool of water where Wellworn had first taught him how to split from his Mirror. An idyllic spot, sure, but one that left a sour taste in his mouth. The stillness of the pool still freaked him out a little bit.
“Yup,” Dawit nodded. “Seven main bases and nine derivatives that branch off from the main bases. Every Forge starts from a base. It’s like uh…a geometric shape that foreshadows what you wanna make. You build the base using the Three-Folds, then build off that base.”
“This is so long…”
“I know, but it…it’s good to know. You need to know this if you wanna Forge. Take, for example, the Shawl Base.” Dawit tore a sheet out of his Codex, folding it into a triangle. “Great if you ever misplace your actual shawl,” he chuckled.
Keon arched an eyebrow in ‘unimpressed.’
“Ahem, so,” he folded two tips of the triangle down to the bottom tip to make a square. “Fold it this way and you have the Helmet Base, its derivative. Now, the Waterbomb Base is interesting because…” he tore out a fresh sheet, folding it in a matter of seconds, “it utilises all three basic folds. Valley, mountain, and squash.”
“And I’m supposed to remember all this?” said Keon.
Dawit flicked through his Codex, turned it, and held up a two-page spread. At the centre was written ‘Basic Base Folds’ with annotated diagrams of numerous geometric shapes branching off of it.
“I do. You wanted to learn Forging right? This is what you need to learn. It just takes practice.”
Keon reached for the book and Dawit yanked it back.
“Oh no you don’t!”
Keon sat cross-legged on the sand, fiddling his way through a Frog Base. He’d gotten the Square Base—the base fold of the Frog Base—down almost to an art. He liked the Square Base. There was an easier way to do it, but it was nowhere near as cool, nor as efficient. The Frog Base on the other hand was doing his head in. The one benefit he saw in all this was that he’d have something cool to show Bella when he got home. Come to think of it—
“Say Dawit, do you like…retain all this knowledge when you go back home?”
“If only it were that simple,” he chuckled with that cherubic smile of his. “Some things you take with you, others you leave behind. But it does work in reverse.”
“Reverse? So…if you practice something enough back home, you’ll bring that knowledge here with you?”
“It’s all in here,” Dawit said, tapping his satchel.
Keon scrunched the paper contraption into the ground, frustrated. His folds weren’t accurate, and he was still too slow.
“Need a break?” asked Dawit, knocking his flask back.
“Please!”
Dawit sat beside him and offered him a morsel of bread. The loaves had been baked hours ago but still retained their warmth. They broke the bread in half, then knocked the pieces together in a toast to the King.
“How is it you’re all allowed to bring snacks and I’m not?” said Keon.
Dawit smiled.
“Depriving yourself of food weakens your Mirror and helps you focus.”
Keon leaned back in thought. That made perfect sense.
“So, why doesn’t Kai do that? He said he doesn’t use his gift ‘cause it involves using his Mirror.”
Dawit leaned in, “Can you imagine Kai skipping a meal for a mission?”
They broke into fits of laughter, Keon slapping his knee.
“So, what about you? You allowed to talk about your gift?”
Dawit huffed a chuckle through his nostrils.
“I’ll do you one better.”
Standing to his feet, he took out his Codex and forged a blade. Once flicked to full size, he tossed it to Keon.
“Alright. Hit me with that. Hard as you can,” he said.
“Bro…”
“Trust me. As hard as you can.”
Keon glanced down at the blade then back at Dawit’s confident grin. He held the blade with two hands and planted his feet.
“Go for the head,” Dawit said with a flick of his chin as Keon flinched to move.
He blew a breath of ‘here goes nothing’ and swung. The blade shattered across Dawit’s cheek into a hundred pieces with a teeth-grating clang. Keon stared at the broken blade then back at Dawit. Dawit arched his eyebrows in a ‘see?’
He forged another blade and tossed it to Keon.
“One more time,” he said with a wink, folding his arms.
Keon gripped the handle and swung for Dawit’s head. This time it ricocheted off, dented but didn’t shatter.
“My gift is patience,” said Dawit. Keon’s confused stare urged him to continue. “Through patience, I can store up a reserve of invulnerability. The longer I wait, the more impervious I become, and the more hits I can take.”
“So, all that,” said Keon, tracing Dawit’s outline with his index finger.
“That was just from teaching you.”
Keon chuckled.
“Sorry man.”
“It’s cool. It’s kinda what it’s meant for anyway. Besides, it’s good discipline. The more rash or reckless I behave, the quicker that reserve depletes.”
“That’s amazing, man.”
The rise of Dawit’s cheeks as he smiled nearly squished his eyes out of existence.
“It’s all by the grace of the King. Alright, let’s go again.”
“You ready? You good to go?” said Zahara, her eyes locked intently on Keon’s. All he could do was nod like an idiot, an idiot who probably should have looked away, but couldn’t.
“Don’t coddle him,” Jonas signed over Keon’s shoulder, “He needs to learn this.”
Her eyes broke away from his, blinking then rolling.
“What’s he sayin’?” said Keon, soft enough that only she could hear.
“That we’re wasting time, come on!” she grabbed his hands and turned him around.
“The strength of the Forge is two-fold,” she said, interpreting for Jonas, “First, the materials used and second, the form of the weapon.”
Jonas tore a sheet from his Codex then rolled it up like a thin scroll.
“Take this for example,” said Zahara as Jonas held it up, “It has the right form…” A flick of the wrist burst the scroll into a staff, “…but it lacks strength.”
Jonas tossed the staff to Keon. As he caught it, he tested its weight. It felt hollow and flimsy like a really long, cardboard tube. As waved it about, it slowly unravelled.
“Whereas this…” she began.
Keon’s eyes narrowed, trying to follow Jonas’ movements as he folded. Valley fold, Book Base, Organ Base. Dang! He lost it. Jonas was just too fast.
He caught the finished staff, turning it over to examine its craftsmanship. It was more angular, hexagonical when viewed from above. A criss-cross of intersecting folds acted like scaffolding on the inside.
“Solid base and a stable form,” said Zahara. “Now, the materials,” she continued, slowly pacing back and forth as she interpreted for Jonas, “It’s not just what or how much you know, it’s what you believe in.” She paused, staring so deep into his eyes that it made him gulp. “What you hope for.”
Jonas stopped signing, his confused eyes sweeping from Keon to the back of Zahara’s head. Clearly, she’d added something he hadn’t signed. He snapped a finger, snapping her out of it.
Keon tugged at the collar of his shawl.
“We good here?” Jonas signed.
Several attempts at trial and error eventually produced a staff. It wasn’t half bad either! He’d used the same text Zahara had used to Forge him a sword back in the Narrow Strait. It had been etched into his mind ever since and only took on new meaning since his visit to the Empyrean:
Dwell in his shelter.
Live under his shadow.
Your refuge and fortress.
Your King whom you trust.
Keon tested the weight of it, tossed it up and down a few times then spun it over the back of his hand. He held it for a second, paused, then turned to Jonas and Zahara.
“What about combat?” he said.
“What about it?” signed Jonas, Zahara interpreting.
“Like, you guys don’t just know how to Forge, you know how to fight. Where’d you learn that?”
Jonas and Zahara exchanged looks.
“There are two ways,” said Zahara. “Reverence of the King is the beginning of knowledge. Allow him to teach you. Listen to what he says…what he tells you about yourself. The other way is through us, as iron sharpens iron, so a person sharpens his friend.”
Keon frowned a single brow.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we spar,” she replied. “We fight each other.”