Exile Read Free Page A

private meeting chamber for the five guardians. Behind the meeting chamber there was a large stairway leading to their bell, used for calling in clan members for meals or when one of the spirits took control of its vessel.
    Aless examined the new decors lining the walls of the main hall. He had to admit, he was incredibly impressed by the clan’s rebuilding efforts—the place managed to look considerably better than before. It had a nice combination of traditional and contemporary inventions and decorations. After the sheer destruction he had caused, Aless was surprised they’d managed to make the place look this incredible.
    “We’re expected in the main meeting hall,” Piers explained, leading Aless through the dining hall. After living in the woods for such a long time, Aless had lost a lot of his sense of time and meal times. He’d eat when he got hungry, as opposed to when the bell sounded. It would be nice having someone else cook for him. He had spent more time than he liked eating small woodland animals.
    All the trainees were eyeing him with interest, whispering amongst themselves. They were clothed in the specific robes of their element for the occasion, or so it appeared to Aless. Unless policies had changed, which they very well could have, all members of the clan were permitted to wear whatever clothing suited them unless told otherwise. The clan leader must’ve done this for his arrival.
    Aless smiled, walking over to the students of Serac. He could remember being amongst them so many years ago. The bright-blue robes hadn’t changed since he had been training—and seeing all the members covered in them gave him a nostalgic feeling.
    “Now, now, Master Serac, there’ll be plenty of time for that later,” Piers teased, grabbing Aless’s arm and pulling him away from his sector.
    Aless rolled his eyes, allowing Piers to pull him into the meeting room and away from the clan’s prying eyes. He took a deep breath and examined the door. It was engraved with all the old traditional depictions of the spirits. Aless was surprised to see this had been rebuilt from the old design—during his feral rampage, one of the few things he remembered was destroying the door with a burst of water strong enough to cut through flesh. It had taken decades to chisel before, and that had been on a wooden canvas. The new door was metal decorated with jewels to match the demons’ colors. Aless idly wondered how much the clan had spent on it.
    Piers reached forward, gripping the handle and prying the door open, inviting Aless in before slamming it shut.
    Piers stepped forward and bowed, shutting his eyes. “Master Cyril,” he greeted, “I bring our dear Master Serac from his tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere and offer him back to you, to honor your side of the deal. His exile has been served.”
    From the table a tanned girl with loose curly hair snorted. “How many of those words do you actually know the definition of?”
    Piers laughed at this, raising his head and standing at full height. “It’s fun to pretend sometimes.”
    Aless took a moment to examine the members of the table. Sitting at the head was Cyril, or so Aless assumed. He had aged, but still resembled the same man he was before Aless’s exile. Cyril was from an island on Far East, giving him dark hair, fair skin, pointed ears, and almond-shaped eyes. His hair was streaked with white strands, and his face was covered in deep wrinkles, but he looked virtually the same as he had ten winters back. His skin was littered with a crisscross of white and black marks, representing the spirits that had inhabited his skin.
    The girl to Cyril’s right remained silent, hardly sparing a glance for Aless. Aless didn’t recognize her, but she looked awfully young to be a guardian, and her body didn’t show any noticeable signs of having a spirit inside her. She was immensely pale, looking similar to people from the mountainous Far North. She was small, too, easily