The Eight of Image ( Complete Edition 3)

“Yea,” Mark said, “I know that part”.
The wind blew softly through the trees with a silent whisper as it swept the fallen leaves away. Loren slowly got to his feet, his eyes on Mark. There was a kind of stare in the man’s eyes that showed an unusual kind of concern.
        Mark saw it and wondered who this Loren really was.
                    “There are things you need to know now,” Loren said, “things you might find hard to believe and accept. You are in grave danger and the only way I can guarantee your safety is for you to come with me”.
                Mark laughed. “No can do, Loren, I have to get home and call the police,” he replied. It was Loren’s turn to laugh.
                “What are you going to tell them?-that a group of mythical creatures attacked you for no apparent reason?”
                Loren shook his head slowly. “You have no idea what is going on,” he said, stroking his hair back.
      Mark remembered Frenze saying the same thing, “What is going on?”
      Loren smiled lightly in amusement, “Would you even believe me?”
      Mark nodded towards the centaur on the ground and said, “Try me”.
                “Alright then, but on the condition that you come with me,” Loren said.
Mark straightened up from the tree he was leaning on and brushed off the leaves on his torn and blood stained shirt.
                “I have a family, you know,” he said as he looked up at the man, “and I have to get to them”.
                “You stick around here for as much as a day and you won’t have a family to get to,” Loren said somewhat bluntly, “they’ve found you Mark, I don’t know how but they have and they’ll do anything to make sure you’re dead, …even if it means they have to kill your family”.
      Mark wanted to brush those words away but they weighted him down with such dread, his insides turned cold.
                  “You’ve seen how dangerous they are, surprisingly that’s not the last of it,” Loren said.
                  “Where are you taking me?” Mark asked abruptly. He knew that by the end of the day everyone would be concerned about his sudden disappearance.
                  Loren must have read his mind, “I’m sorry Mark, but this has to be done”.
The man turned around, his eyes playing into the trees. “I’m taking you to Image and we better hurry,” he said walking towards the trees on Mark’s left.
                “Image?” Mark asked, doubting his ears.
                “Yea, Image. Follow me,” he said, beckoning to Mark with a hand. Mark trudged through the trees after him, lost deep in incomprehensible thought. Occasionally he would look around in an attempt to spot anything familiar.
              “What I’m going to tell you right now may be a bit shocking,” Loren said, “Image’s an alternate world to yours and quiet different too”.
                Mark looked quizzically at the man’s back as they continued their walk; he felt he hadn’t heard that sentence right.
                  “I have been in your world for a while,” Loren continued.
                  “Watching me,” Mark interrupted.
Loren chuckled. “Yes, watching you and every one else that I could. I am native to Image and do not fully understand the system of your world. Image is ruled by kings and is home to many creatures that people in your world have no ideas about”.
                  “There are more than just centaurs?” Mark asked in disbelief, something like that was enough to drive anyone crazy.
He realized they were back in the clearing. The ground was covered with men and centaurs, swords, spears and bows were all over the place.
                  “Why are there men here?” Mark asked as he cautiously knelt beside one to examine him.
                  “They were also sent to kill you,” Loren said as he knelt beside an unconscious Frenze.
        He found a small parchment attached to the centaur’s scabbard and took it. He glanced briefly at Mark as he opened it, for a few seconds he stared at its contents with furrowed brows. His free hand closed into a fist.
                How had they precisely known?,  he thought as he tossed the parchment to the ground. No one he knew in the king’s army was skilled enough to have deciphered that prophecy, clearly nothing made sense.
                “Let’s go Mark,” Loren said as he stood up, “I have a feeling there are more of them around”.
          Mark also stood up and turned to Loren. “Who sent them?” he asked.
                  “The king of Image,” Loren replied after a few seconds of silence. Mark swallowed hard; once again he felt his insides freeze.
                  “What’s an Alterer? And are you one?” Mark asked after a while.
Loren shook his head. “Let’s just say they’re people with very special abilities. Why do you ask?”
                  “One of the centaurs mentioned something about an Alterer,” Mark said, thinking back in an attempt to remember what the centaur had actually said.
        Loren sighed; things aren’t going to get easier with the king this knowledgeable.
                  “Let’s get out of here,” Loren said, heading into the trees. Mark followed, taking one last glance at the still figures on the ground.
                  “Why would the king of Image want me dead?” Mark asked, “We’ve never met”.
                  “I’m going to leave that explanation to an Alterer,” Loren said, brushing a fern aside for Mark to pass. Further into the woods turned out to be more spacious than Mark had expected, the trees were about a meter from each other with the ground entirely covered with dead leaves.
                  “I’ll bet no one’s being this far,” Mark murmured to himself as he glanced around.
                  “We’re here,” Loren said, stopping so abruptly that Mark walked right into him; the boy rubbed his nose as he stepped beside Loren and looked up.
                  About two meters in front of them stood a tree far different from those around; its trunk was twice as thick with its only two branches both outstretched towards them.
            Mark could feel his hair on end, there was something extraordinary about this tree that he couldn’t put his finger on.
                  “Fear will only hold you back from the real truth,” Loren said with a grin.
                  “Easy for you to say,” Mark replied. Loren stepped towards the tree, pulling Mark gently along. Within an arm reach of it Mark found himself gaping at what he saw. The tree split vertically in two, revealing a brilliantly glowing doorway as tall as the tree itself.
                  “What is that?” Mark murmured in total awe.
                  “The way to Image,” Loren said, pulling Mark into the radiating portal after him. For a few seconds Mark lost all sense of himself and all that was around him, it was like a sea wave had swept gently over him and left him floating. He couldn’t feel his body or clothes.
            The damp ground brought him back to his senses; he rolled onto his back and looked up at the now cloudless blue sky. Mark sat up and looked around, the surrounding had changed completely.
              The trees were fanned around with shrubs of grass all over the place, he had a feeling they were on a hill.
              He noticed Loren wasn’t there with him and got up. Turning he saw the strange tree about three meters away, its two branches outstretched.
                    “Loren,” Mark called out cautiously, his eyes playing into the open. He heard footsteps to his left and turned partially out of fear; Loren stepped out from behind a tree and walked towards the boy.
                  “The movement must have knocked you out,” Loren said, he stopped in front of Mark and brushed leaves out of the boy’s hair, “I’m not surprised though, this is your first time”.
                    “So, this is Image?” Mark said with a casual look around him, “Looks normal to me”.
Loren laughed. “Yes it does, but it’s not normal just because it looks like it” he said.
                    “We go this way,” he said as he stepped past Mark, they headed down the gentle slope of the hill for a few minutes.
          A portion of the ground before them jutted out like a cliff, revealing the landscape below in a beautiful portrait of colors and shapes.
                      “Is that…?” Mark said in awe, stopping in his tracks.
                      “Yes, a castle,” Loren replied, stopping himself to view the scene, “Beautiful, isn’t it”.
                  “I’d say unbelievable,” Mark said, his eyes still on the building down below. It was about five floors high and definitely bigger than his school, around the castle was a circular field with a radius of about fifty meters, surrounding the castle and field in a circular form were trees tightly packed together. A thin brown line in the dense green told Mark there was a path leading through the trees to the castle, that same path wound up the hill.
            Just beyond the forest surrounding the castle and some rocky terrain was thick black smoke which rose lazily into the sky.
                “What’s that?” Mark asked, pointing at the pillar of smoke.
                “Dunno…,” Loren replied after a while, there should be a village at that very location…
                “The Alterer lives in that castle with an army,” Loren said, walking on.
Mark followed him down the hill with his eyes still on the pillar of smoke.
                “Who’s this Alterer I’m supposed to meet?” he asked, finally turning to Loren.
                “One of the most powerful there is left in Image,” Loren replied, “His name is Mantis”.
                  “An army,” Mark murmured, “an army like the king’s”.
                  “Exactly,” Loren said, “except this one’s trying to save you”.
They reached leveled ground and faced the sea of trees ahead that stood between them and the castle.
      Mark’s eyes followed the path as it cut straight through the trees, ahead the towering castle loomed over all there was around it.
      Suddenly nothing looked normal to Mark; he could feel it in his blood. This was Image.

CHAPTER FOUR (IMAGE)

    The trees stayed clear of the path, even their roots seemed to edge away from it. Mark turned his head as he heard a strange sound belonging to something he thought was a bird. The strange sound repeated randomly again after a few moments of silence.
    He looked away from the trees and back to the path. The man walking beside him had fallen silent a few minutes ago; obviously thinking.
        “Loren,” Mark said.
    The man turned his head to his side, “What is it?”
        “Well, I…, never had the chance to say thank you,” Mark said slowly, “so thank you”.
    The man nodded with a smile and turned his head, “I did what any good person would have done”.
          After more minutes of silence and walking, they stepped into the field surrounding the castle. Being this close to it, Mark noticed it was three times the size of his school.
          Mark turned back to the trees, “For a powerful Alterer, getting to his castle seemed very easy,” he said with a glance around the empty field.
              “Don’t be fooled, Mark. Those trees behind us have about a hundred soldiers among them,” Loren said with a chuckle, “I’m the reason why you’re not covered in arrows”.
Like a spell, Mark could suddenly feel eyes on him, “I shouldn’t have asked”.
          A loud creaking sound made him focus on the arched doors of the castle; slowly they swung away from each other to reveal a sight that made Mark’s hair stand on end.
          Men and centaurs strolled out through the doors. Strange looking birds that resembled extinct dodos with large jagged beaks and oversized talons flew through the doors and into the skies; birds he was very sure didn’t exist in his world.
            “They’re fecs,” Loren said, “small, agile and surprisingly dangerous-don’t get into a quarrel with one”.
      Mark watched as the centaurs and men fanned over the field, some disappeared behind the castle holding buckets and shovels.
            “What were they doing inside?” Mark asked absent mindedly.
            “Security measures,” Loren replied, “we were probably spotted on the hill and they had to be ready in case this was an attack”.
      Loren began walking towards the doors. “Come on,” he said beckoning to Mark who hurried to catch up.
Two centaurs met Loren at the doors; they both had spiky brown hair, blue eyes and the same face, with long spears clutched tightly in their hands.
              “You sure had everyone worried, Loren, leaving suddenly without a word,” the centaur to Loren’s left said, “Mantis refuses to sit down until he’s seen you”.
              “I’m probably the strongest here and yet they treat me like the youngest,” Loren remarked with a glance at Mark who seemed too focused on the centaurs.
      There was something protruding from their chests; root-like veins surrounding a spherical protrusion were outlined underneath their bare skin.
              “I assume he’s not from around here,” the centaur nearest to Mark said.
The boy blinked, realizing that he had been staring too much.
              “Molder’s soldiers almost got him,” Loren said, his voice had turned serious, “I had no other choice”.
          The centaurs stepped closer to Mark who instinctively stepped back.
              “It’s surprising he hasn’t lost his mind yet,” the centaur nearest to Mark mused.
              “Don’t you think they made a mistake?” the other centaur asked.
              “There’s something else going on,” Loren replied, “they have something up their sleeve…or someone”.
              “What do you mean?” the centaur close to Mark asked.
              “I’ll tell you later-I need to see Mantis now,” Loren said, glancing up the castle wall.
            “He’s in his study room,” the other centaur said.
          “Let’s go Mark,” Loren said, pulling the boy after him through the doors. “See you guys later,” he said to the two centaurs with a wave of his hand.
      Behind the arched doors was an enormous hallway, two stairways curved up along either side of the castle walls to the next floor. Burning torches were hung up on the wall, their orange flames dancing steadily.
        Mark followed Loren up the stairs, his eyes looking at everything they could, several men and centaurs stopped what they were doing to look at the two. Upon reaching the second floor Loren led Mark through a door to their immediate right, only to climb another flight of stairs leading to the third floor.
          They stepped into a long corridor with several doors on each side, Loren stopped at the first door which was on his right and turned to Mark.
                “In here,” he said as he opened the door and stepped in. Mark froze in the doorway, he suddenly felt tired and strained; as if he had something heavy on his shoulders.
                “My, my,” a voice said from the room, “this must be his first time encountering this”.
        Mark felt Loren’s hand on his shoulder and was gently guided into the room; he blinked away his hazy vision and looked up.
        The room was as large as his bedroom with two windows on the outward wall, in the middle of the room stood a table covered with parchments and one large book; four wooden chairs were on each side of the table with a large cupboard at the right side corner of the room away from the door.
          Mark focused on the man standing behind the table; he may have been in his late fifties for his graying hair was swept back into a short ponytail, he had green pupils with thin graying eyebrows over a rounded nose. Mark’s eyes fell onto the man’s green robes and cloak, obviously this is Mantis; the Alterer?
              “Have a seat,” the man said, motioning to the chairs. Mark and Loren sat down as Mantis began to arrange the scattered parchments on the table, after piling them together he placed them on top of the cupboard.
                “It’s happened, hasn’t it,” he asked, sitting down himself.
Loren nodded slowly. 
                “They made their move today and luckily for me Molder didn’t take the mission himself,” he said.
        Mantis looked at Mark for a while and turned back to Loren, “He’s not from around here”.
                “No, he’s from the other side,” Loren confirmed, “which gave me more reason to bring him”.
        Mantis nodded slowly in agreement and turned back to Mark. “My name is Mantis,” he said, reaching a hand out to the boy.
        Mark reached out to take the handshake and almost fell out of his chair. Mantis pulled away immediately as Loren held Mark by his shoulders to stop him from falling.
          The boy gasped as if he had been strangled; the sensation of tiredness had returned even stronger this time and strangely enough, just when he had made physical contact with the man.
            “Are you alright, Mark?” Loren asked as he straightened the boy up in his chair. Mark nodded and looked up at Mantis, “What did you do to me?”
        Mantis smiled. “My life force seems to be overwhelming yours,” he said apologetically.
        Mark merely stared at him, totally confused. “Your what?” he asked and slumped over; unconscious.
              Loren kept a hold of him to stop him from falling. Mantis got out of his chair and walked over to the window.
                “I’ve got a very bad feeling,” he said, glancing sideways at Loren.
                “I’ll be right back,” Loren said as he picked Mark up in his arms and carried him out of the room.
        Loren returned some minutes later to find Mantis still at the window.
                  “I put him in the next room,” he said as he sat down.
        Mantis sighed as he watched the figures below on the field in the light of the setting sun. Slowly he turned back to face Loren.
                “Something is very wrong-so wrong I can feel it in the air,” Mantis said, he walked over to the table and sat down.
        Loren watched him as he massaged his temples. “It won’t take long for Rodnab to figure what is going on,” the young man said.
            “What do you mean?” Mantis asked, looking up.
            “They know about our involvement and they know about you,” Loren replied, “they know so much they were able to use the prophecy like a timetable for the boy’s life”.
            “Only someone of an Alterer’s level would be able to do that,” Mantis said.   
            “That was what I was afraid of,” Loren said, “If Rodnab has got an Alterer helping him, things may get ugly”.
          Mantis got out of his chair and began to stride around the room.
              “Why this boy, someone from the other side without any knowledge of Image,” Mantis murmured, lost in deep thought, “I didn’t even sense a liveball in him”.
          Loren cleared his throat. “That’s something else I wanted to talk to you about,” he said, sitting up straight. Mantis stopped moving and looked at Loren.
              “There’s something unusual about Mark,” Loren began, “he was able to match the speed of a 3rd year soldier”.
              “Without a liveball,” Mantis murmured in surprise, his eyes on the floor. 
              “Yes,” Loren replied, “it’s unbelievable”.
              “Impossible,” Mantis said, “are you sure of this?” he asked looking at Loren who nodded confidently.
              “How can an outsider have such… potential,” Mantis pondered.
              “If you don’t mind, I would like to help him improve those abilities,” Loren said. 
              “You are going to have to wait on that one,” Mantis replied after a while, “We don’t know his cause yet. That is going to decide a lot in the future for him and us”.
        Loren laughed and shook his head, “You are worried about his cause at a time like this?” he said standing up, “you are worried he might not follow your cause”.
              “My cause…,” Mantis began, “is for the good of Image as you know it”.
              “Yes it is,” Loren replied, “and I know it. I believe he will follow it”.
Mantis walked slowly to the table and looked Loren in the eyes, “I get the impression you have a lot of confidence in the boy you just met. Don’t tell me you actually believe he’s the one we’re looking for”.
                “I just might,” Loren said, sitting down again with a smile.
                “Am I missing something?” Mantis asked as he also sat down.
                “I don’t think so,” Loren replied.
          For about a minute the two sat down in silence, the only sound heard was the rumbling sound of feet and hooves below.
                “I want to give hope to the army for the future of Image…, to give hope to you…, to give myself hope,” Mantis said, “ down there are souls who believe they can help make a difference in the future of Image and I don’t want to give them any false hopes, Loren”.
      Loren nodded, “I know,” he said, stroking his hair, “I have lived on your hopes for years, they were what kept me going”.
      Loren slowly got up and looked at Mantis, “I have hope for this boy just as you had hope for me,” he said and walked to the door, “I believe in him”.
          Mantis watched as Loren left the room and closed the door, “You’ve grown up, Loren,” he said as the young man’s footsteps faded away.
                                                                      *     
Mark woke up and looked at the stone ceiling above him; he then turned his head to his side and looked at the golden rays from the rising sun streaming through the window.
      It hadn’t been a dream, he thought as he sat up and stretched, he wished it had been. He slipped his hand under his shirt and felt for the wound he had acquired recently from Calix, he found a bandage over it.
      A sudden knock on the door startled him, “Come in,” he said as he edged out of the bed with his eyes still on the door.
        The door swung wide open and a centaur walked in with something in his arms, the centaur had spiky brown hair and blue eyes.
                “You…,” Mark said for no apparent reason, the centaur smiled as he placed the things in his arms down on a table beside the bed.
                “You do remember me,” the centaur said walking toward Mark, a few steps away he stopped.
                “I’ve seen how you recoil when one of us gets close to you,” the centaur said, “we’re not all the same”.
            Mark nodded, his experience with Frenze and Calix had left an effect on him. “Forgive me for asking, what is that?” Mark said, pointing to the centaur’s chest.
          The centaur followed Mark’s finger to his chest and laughed, “I am disappointed; I thought you were going to ask me my name. You would probably pass out if I told you what this was considering the fact that you are so new here”.
          The centaur winked and turned to go, “I’m Balker and my brother’s Calker,” he said as he opened the door.
                “Twins?” Mark asked. The centaur nodded and closed the door behind him. Mark stood still, his eyes on the door as if expecting it to open again, after a few seconds he shook his head and walked over to the table on the other side of the bed.
          A large piece of cloth and some brown robes were on the table; Mark placed the cloth on the bed and examined the robes, there were two of them with one like a shirt with long sleeves and the other like long pants, both had wool like feel.
          Mark almost jumped out of his skin as a second knock sounded on the door. “Come in,” he said as he moved away from the table.
          Loren stepped into the room and took a long look at Mark, “Are you okay,” he asked.
              “Yeah…, I guess,” Mark replied in a confused tone as he wondered why Loren had asked that question.
              “Well then, you better get dressed up,” Loren said with a clap of his hands as he walked over to the table.
                “You are going to have to get along with these,” Loren said as he picked up the robes.
              “I don’t have a choice, do I?” Mark said as he sat on the bed. Loren placed the robes back on the table and sat beside the boy.
              “You did the right thing in coming here,” he said, placing his arm around Mark who nodded.
              “I can’t stop thinking about my parents,” Mark said, “what they must be going through by now”.
          Loren nodded in agreement, “You’ve protected them by coming here and I’m sure they would understand if they knew,” the man said, patting Mark on the back.
          Loren got up and walked up to the other side of the bed, Mark turned to watch him and realized Loren had opened a door that he hadn’t even seen.
                “Get cleaned and then we can talk,” Loren said, pushing the door ajar.
Mark stepped into the small room which actually turned out to be a bathroom; he was more than surprised to find a ceramic bathtub with a bucket of water beside it.
                “I’ll be waiting outside,” Loren said as Mark closed the door.
        Mark was out of the room in about twenty minutes, trying to come to an agreement with the clothes on him.
          He found Loren in the corridor leaning on the wall with his arms crossed.
                  “I guess you found your way around quickly,” the man said with a chuckle.
                  “I still have a problem with my mouth,” Mark said with a grimace.
Loren laughed. “I thought you might,” he said, unfolding his arms to reveal a bottle in his hand, “Rinse this in your mouth for a minute and swallow, it’ll help”.
        Mark took the bottle with wary eyes and uncapped it, “What it is and what does it do?” he asked as he sniffed at it.
                “You’ll find out soon enough,” Loren said with a chuckle. Mark held his breath and tipped the content of the bottle into his mouth. In a few seconds he was coughing hard.
                  “It burns,” he gasped as he bent over, he felt Loren’s hand gently pat him on his back. “What was that?” Mark asked when he had begun to breathe normally, “My mouth felt like it was on fire”.
                  “It’s a juice obtained from the leaves of a certain plant found in rocky terrain, earning it the name Morning Grazer. Basically it does twice what your toothbrushes tries to do,” Loren said with a grin as he took the bottle from Mark.
                  “Mantis is waiting for us,” Loren said, stepping to the next door. Mark took a deep breath and stepped next to Loren as he opened the door, they both stepped into the room and Loren closed the door behind him.
              Mark stumbled slightly as his eyes fell on a seated Mantis, the overwhelming tiredness rushed over him immediately as he found his breathing shallow.
                  “It’s going to take a while for you to get used to that,” Mantis said apologetically as Loren guided Mark into a chair.
                  “Why do I feel tired every time I get close to you?” the boy asked as he managed to sit up straight.
        Mantis smiled, “I hope you are not going to pass out this time,” he said, placing his arms on the table.
                    “Pass out?” Mark mumbled in confusion as he turned to Loren for answers.
                    “You were knocked unconscious by his life force yesterday,” Loren said with a laugh.
        Mark turned back to Mantis with amazement, this Alterer is powerful. “I don’t really understand this life force thing,” Mark said after a while.
                    “Yes, along with the reason why you are here,” Mantis continued with a smile, “it will all be explained to you with time”.
                    “Come in,” Mantis said as a knock sounded on the door, a man walked into the room holding a tray which in turn held a teapot, three cups and a loaf of bread.
        Mark was relieved to know Image had normal breakfast sessions; the man placed the tray on the unoccupied table and Mantis thanked him. With a bow the man turned and left the room, closing the door silently behind him.
          Loren took two cups and placed one in front of Mark as Mantis took the other cup. The smell of coffee reached Mark’s nose as Loren filled all three cups, the man then picked up a knife beside the teapot and cut several slices of bread.
                      “Do help yourself,” Loren said as he placed the knife down. Mark began to wolf down on his breakfast as the sight and smell strongly awakened his hunger.
                      “Do you remember anything the centaurs said, Mark?” Mantis asked after he had taken a sip of his coffee.
          Mark shook his head after a long pause, “I can’t remember anything apart from them mentioning an Alterer,” he said when he had swallowed his food.
          Mantis nodded slowly and glanced at Loren.
                “I do know that they really intended on killing me,” Mark continued after a while. The smile on Frenze’s face and the glint of his sword in the sun rushed back into his thoughts and he found himself shuddering.
        Mark shook off the feeling and looked at Mantis, “I want to know why it’s so wrong for me to live,” he said.
                  “As you might have heard from Loren, Image is ruled by two kings,” Mantis said, placing his cup down after another sip.
                  “Why two kings?” Mark asked, “It looks suicidal to me”.
      Mantis nodded in agreement, “Unless there are different creatures to be governed,” the Alterer said, “Image has eight sentient races which are all very different”.
                  “Including humans and centaurs?” Mark asked.
      Mantis nodded, “They are humans, centaurs, gawns, fecs, dragons”- Mark coughed-“nafs, garlems and trolls,” the Alterer continued.
                    “It seems you’re already familiar with dragons,” Loren noted with a grin.
                    “Now I’m not so sure,” Mark replied.
                    “Together they were called the elevated eight,” Mantis continued, “Alas; two of the races have been wiped off the face of Image, the garlems and the trolls”.
                    “Was it a war?” Mark asked after a few seconds of silence.
                    “Nobody seems to know what happened,” Mantis replied, “whatever it was that happened, it was silent and swift”.
        A blanket of silence seemed to have enveloped the room; the silence was ruptured by a knock on the door.
                    “Come in,” Mantis said, a centaur walked into the room and stopped by the table.
                  “Hightail has returned,” the centaur said after a low bow.
                  “Tell him I’ll be with him in a moment,” Mantis said with a nod. With that the centaur left the room.
                  “We may have to continue another time, I have something very important to discuss with Hightail” Mantis said as he got up, he left the room and closed the door behind him.
        Mark turned to Loren, “I’ve wanted to ask this for a while,” the boy said, “when you saved me from Frenze, how did you move like that and how were you able to throw trees so easily?”
                    “Take your time,” Loren said with raised hands and he laughed, “I noticed you were staring at the centaur’s chest yesterday. Everybody here in the castle has those things”.
        Loren raised his shirt to show his bare chest, root like veins surrounding a spherical protrusion was outlined against the skin across his chest. The root like extensions were wider and longer than the one Mark had seen in the twin centaurs, spreading all over chest and down towards his belly.
                    “Frenze and his soldiers also had these, probably everyone else in Image,” Loren said as he lowered his shirt, “it is called a liveball”.
                    “And that is what made you so fast?” Mark asked and watched Loren nod.
                    “The liveball is a symbiotic organism; I believe you know what that is,” Loren continued.
                    “Yea, I think so…,” Mark said, scratching his head, now he really missed his biology teacher.
                    “They are creatures that usually co-operate and rely on other organisms for their survival,” Loren explained as he realized Mark was more confused than he looked. 
                    “Meaning it was outside before it got inside, right?” Mark blurted suddenly.
        Loren nodded, “Outside a living body the liveball takes on the character of a plant, living on nutrients in swampy areas,” the man continued, “once they get into a living body, it’s a different story”.
                    “You make them sound parasitic,” Mark said with a shudder.
                    “No, these creatures only take what they need and give much more in return,” Loren said with a laugh, “the death of a host would mean its death, and the liveball would do anything it could to ensure the host’s survival, even if it means helping to break the host’s physical limits-in this case, speed”.
                It can actually do that? Mark thought and swallowed hard; he found it outstanding that such a relationship should exist.         
                    “The liveball has formed the basis of combat in Image, different levels of skill have been created with respect to a person’s ability to relate efficiently with the liveball during a fight,” Loren continued, “the centaur that tried to kill you, Calix, was a 3rd year out of eleven”.
                    “What about you?” Mark asked.
      Loren grinned, “I’m a 10th year”.
Loren got up and walked to the door, “Let’s take a walk,” he said as he opened the door.
                                                    *