The Madness of Yilheim

Valerius sat cross-legged on one of the felled tree trunks, sword resting beside him. The afternoon sun cast streaks of gold across his bare shoulders, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

"Yelleen," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "Can you tell me how my siblings are doing?"

The voice echoed in his mind with its usual bright cheer.

"To make it easier," Yelleen replied, "I can create a group chat for you."

Valerius blinked. "Wait—you can do that?"

"I can do many things."

Valerius frowned. "Then why didn't you do it when I was captured?"

"I didn't think of it."

Before he could reply, a blue panel popped into his vision—sleek, semi-transparent, and hovering just above his eye line. Three names appeared at the top: Valerius. Eryndor. Ziraiah.

"Just think of what you want to say," Yelleen instructed, "and it will appear in the text bar."

Valerius focused. A message instantly typed itself in glowing text:

> Eryndor, Ziraiah… are you good?

Then it whooshed away.

---

Meanwhile… in Heful.

Eryndor and Ziraiah were strolling beneath the towering marble arches of a plaza when a faint chime rang in their minds. A floating blue chat panel flickered into view before both of them.

Ziraiah blinked. "What's this?"

Yelleen's voice answered instantly. "Your brother. Reply with your thoughts."

Ziraiah smirked and immediately thought:

> You useless fool.

Back in Kintol, Valerius watched the message appear on his chat panel—Ziraiah tagged above the line. He chuckled.

> Valerius: How you guys doing?

Another message appeared—this time labelled Eryndor:

> Eryndor: I should think that question falls to us—for it was you who strayed from us, not the reverse.

Ziraiah quickly added:

> Ziraiah: How did you escape?

Valerius replied:

> Valerius: I don't know. I just… appeared here.

> Ziraiah: Here where?

Valerius turned to Grace, who was collecting broken wood nearby.

"Hey Grace. What's this place called again?"

She looked up. "Kintol."

He nodded and focused on the chat.

> Valerius: Kintol. How did you escape?

> Eryndor: We were extricated by an Elvhein—his name, Pungence.

Valerius's eyes widened.

> Valerius: Wait… you saw another Elvhein? That's so cool. What did he look like?

Ziraiah responded almost instantly:

> Ziraiah: He was huge, like freaking huge. Way bigger than Kaelan. And muscular too. He was like gagachad but way bigger.

> Eryndor: I do admire those forearms of his.

Valerius made a face.

> Valerius: Brother… ewwww. You going to the other side or something?

Back in Heful, Ziraiah saw the message and burst out laughing. Then she noticed something.

"Wait—Yelleen, you even got emojis?"

She focused, and a 😂 emoji popped up beside her reply.

> Ziraiah: 😂

Valerius grinned as he saw it float up on his panel.

> Valerius: Anyway, I'll find a way to get to you guys.

> Eryndor: Stay safe, Valerius.

> Ziraiah: Peace ✌️

As the last message sent, the chat panel faded smoothly from all their vision—leaving only silence and the faint hum of magical air.

---

Meanwhile, Brian and Lilith had been watching Valerius this whole time.

Brian leaned toward Freya. "Is he okay? He's just been staring into space like a statue."

Freya folded her arms, eyes narrowed. "Maybe he's thinking of how to get us to let our guard down."

Valerius blinked, refocused on the world around him—and gave a tiny smile.

"Weird kid," Lilith whispered.

Freya muttered, "Or dangerous."

Valerius simply picked up his sword and stood.

"Let's finish rebuilding."

---

Valerius, Grace, and her friends worked tirelessly until nightfall, sweat-soaked and covered in dust. At last, the rubble where Grace's house had crumbled was completely cleared.

As her friends picked up their things and began heading home, Grace waved. "Thanks for helping!"

They waved back, yawning and stretching, then disappeared into the quietening village.

Grace turned, wrapped from head to toe in several mismatched layers of dirty clothes, her face barely visible beneath a hood. "I'm so glad our clothes are okay. Just a little bit of washing and they'll be good as new."

Valerius raised a brow. "I don't think a little bit of washing will do the trick."

They walked together through the dimly lit village streets. As they passed a house with a wooden balcony, Valerius spotted a man casually cleaning his old rifle.

He squinted. "Hey—were you the one who shot me?"

The man's eyes widened. He froze for a split second, then scrambled inside and slammed the door shut.

Grace blinked. "I remember now. I did hear gunshots this morning."

Valerius pointed at the closed door. "He shot me. In the head. I could've died."

Grace stopped abruptly and turned to him, eyes wide. "You were shot… in the head?" She walked around him, inspecting his scalp. "Not even a scar… What are you?"

Valerius said nothing and kept walking.

"Answer me, Lerius!" Grace called after him. "Are you sure you're not a mage?!"

They reached her home, and Grace dropped the dirty pile of clothes onto a chair. "Mother! I brought our clothes!"

Anna stepped out of the kitchen, wiping her hands with a cloth. "And here I thought we'd have to buy new ones." She smiled.

Grace leaned in close and whispered, "Did you know he was shot in the head? And he doesn't even have a scratch on him."

Anna blinked. "Is he a mage?"

"I asked him already," Grace whispered back. "He said no."

Unbeknownst to either of them, Valerius's hearing—enhanced since his body reconstruction—picked up every word. He said nothing, acting as if he hadn't heard a thing.

---

Three days later…

Theosis arrived at the gates of Weston, the capital of the Grekon Kingdom. The walls were tall but worn, and the guard towers leaned slightly from age. The banner above the gates was faded, depicting the twin spears of Grekon in cracked paint.

Two guards stepped forward as Theosis approached on his Ause. Both wore rusted breastplates and had spears crossed.

"State your name and business," one barked.

"I'm Theosis. Here to trade."

"Papers?" the second guard asked, holding out a hand.

Theosis produced a worn scroll stamped with a merchant sigil.

The guard glanced at it, then looked up. "You from the east?"

"No. Just passing through."

The guards exchanged a look, then lowered their spears.

"You may enter," the first said. "But be warned—any trouble and you're out. And your beast doesn't go past the market district."

Theosis nodded. "Understood."

He led his Ause through the gates. The city beyond was a far cry from Heful.

The stone streets were cracked and uneven. Buildings leaned slightly as if held together by willpower alone. Smells of smoke and animal droppings filled the air, and the townspeople moved quickly, eyes down, shoulders hunched. Children played in the mud while merchants hollered from makeshift stalls built from crates and cloth.

No floating lanterns, no magical automata—just creaky carts, battered shoes, and the dull clang of metal on metal.

Theosis dismounted and tied his Ause to a post outside a weathered stone building with a faded sign that read:

Grekon Arcane Registry and Trader's Guild

Inside, the room was dimly lit, lined with old books and glowing orbs floating in cracked lanterns. Several men and women in robes milled about, examining magical trinkets and ancient scrolls.

Theosis approached the front desk, where a young Aurellian with ink-stained fingers looked up. "Can I help you?"

"I have magic crystals to sell," Theosis said, slinging his bag around and retrieving one shimmering shard.

The receptionist's eyes widened faintly. He took the crystal and held it up to the light.

"Name?" he asked, sliding over a ledger.

"Theosis."

He wrote it down and said, "Please have a seat. We'll appraise this. Might take a moment."

The receptionist vanished into a side room.

Theosis sat, watching the flickering lights overhead. Several minutes passed before the same receptionist returned and approached him, his expression unreadable.

"Mr. Theosis," he said, "please come with me."

Theosis followed him into a private chamber where an elderly Aurellian with a long silver beard sat behind a large wooden desk, hands clasped before him.

"Please, sit," the old man said warmly.

Theosis took the chair across from him.

The old man reached out and gently placed the crystal on the table. "Where did you obtain this?"

"A friend gave it to me," Theosis replied.

"Where did he get it?"

"I didn't ask. He just told me to see if it was worth anything."

The old man turned the crystal slowly in his fingers. "To the ungifted, this might appear useless. But to a mage… this is extraordinary. The mineral composition is foreign to anything catalogued. And the amount of Vitalis stored in it…" He paused, eyes narrowing. "It's more than I've ever seen."

He placed the crystal down. "We're prepared to offer you two hundred thousand Kairo for this."

Theosis blinked. Did I hear that right?

His thoughts raced. Two hundred thousand? For just one? He glanced at the bag resting at his side, suddenly aware of its weight.

"Mr. Theosis?"

Theosis leaned forward, clearing his throat. "Come again?"

The old man smiled. "We're offering two hundred thousand Kairo. Does that sound acceptable?"

"Yes! Yes, it does," Theosis said, reaching into his satchel. "Actually, there's… more."

He produced a smaller pouch and opened it, revealing several more crystals.

The old man's jaw dropped. Even the receptionist gasped.

"Wait here," the old man said urgently. He rushed to the corner of the room and picked up a square metal device, speaking rapidly into it.

When he returned, his face was glowing with glee. He opened a drawer and pulled out a sleek silver card marked VIP, writing Theosis's name across it in elegant script.

"Sir," he said, "it is our honour to designate you as a Very Important Person within our guild. The funds are being transferred as we speak. We'll also arrange for a wagon and two raiders to escort you safely home."

Theosis stood, blinking. "You really don't have to—"

"Oh, but we must," the man said, beaming. "It's the very least we can do."

He took the bag of crystals with a smile.

---

Outside, Theosis's wagon—now loaded with chests of coin—waited near the steps.

Two Aurellian raiders stood by: one male, cloaked in a flowing black robe with runes stitched along the hem; and one female, clad in polished steel armour with a curved blade at her side.

Theosis exhaled. Where the did that child get those crystals

---

Three days later… Afternoon in Kintol

The sun hung high, casting soft amber light over the village of Kintol. A distant rumble echoed through the air—wheels creaking, hooves clopping, and heavy footsteps approaching from the southern road.

Frederick stood by his half-repaired fence, wiping sweat from his brow when he spotted them: two wagons rolling slowly into the village. The first wagon gleamed—polished wood, reinforced wheels, and a heavy chest locked in the back. It was flanked by two imposing figures: a towering Aurellian woman in silver armour and a cloaked male raider with a long black robe billowing behind him. They walked beside the wagon like twin shadows of protection.

The second wagon, covered in canvas, carried several brawny builders, their tools clanking as they sat chatting, legs dangling over the side.

Frederick's brows furrowed. "Grace," he called, "you seeing this?"

From inside the house, Grace peeked through the curtain. "Whoa…"

Anna came up behind her. "Visitors?"

Then Valerius, sitting by the window with a half-carved plank in his hand, stood up. His green eyes narrowed. "That's Theosis."

The wagons came to a stop in front of the house. Theosis stepped down, his cloak fluttering behind him, and lifted one large sack—easily the biggest of the pile—from the wagon.

Grace opened the door first and ran out. "Uncle Theo?!"

He grinned. "I'm back."

Frederick crossed his arms, squinting. "What's with the parade?"

Theosis walked up to him, hauling the massive sack like it was filled with feathers. "Frederick, meet your solution."

He turned and gestured to the second wagon. "These men are builders from Grekon. Masters in timber, stonework, roofing, and foundational layering. They'll rebuild your house—better than before."

One of the builders, a 10ft 5 burly man with a bushy black beard, hopped off the wagon. "Name's Broman. My crew and I don't waste time. Where's the site?"

Grace pointed excitedly. "Just over there! We cleared it six days ago."

The other builders jumped down, pulling out hammers, chalk lines, and measuring tools. As they approached the site, their boots crunched over dry grass and scattered bark. One of them paused and whistled. "What the—?"

Broman stepped forward, squinting at the cleared space. "Hold up… is that a prepped foundation?"

Another builder ran a hand along the freshly aligned beams and wooden markers embedded into the earth. "It is. And it's solid. Straight lines, clean angles… who the hell did this?"

They glanced around and noticed dozens of neatly chopped wooden logs stacked nearby—fresh, uniform, and ready for use. A third builder picked up one of the logs and blinked. "Cut clean through. No axe marks… looks like a sword did this."

Broman turned to the group. "Okay, now I'm impressed."

Grace beamed proudly and pointed. "That was Valerius. He did it all by himself."

The builders turned to look at the lean teenager standing at the back with his hands in his pockets. One of them raised an eyebrow. "Him?"

Valerius shrugged. "Didn't have anything better to do, and plus, I told them I'd rebuild their house."

Another builder laughed. "You some kind of knight?"

Valerius smirked. "Something like that."

Broman crossed his arms. "Well, thanks to you, kid, we've got a head start. This'll shave days off the work."

He nodded to his team. "Get the measurements down, reinforce the base. Let's not waste what's already been done."

Anna came out onto the porch, wiping her hands on her apron. "Theosis… you paid for all this?"

Theosis grinned. "Let's just say I made some very lucrative trades."

Valerius raised an eyebrow. "How lucrative are we talking?"

Theosis dropped the large sack with a thud on the porch and opened the top. The glint of thick gold coins inside made everyone freeze.

"Kairo," he said casually. "About two million of them, give or take."

Frederick took a step back. "Two million?! What did you sell—your soul?"

"Nope. Just a few crystals." Theosis smiled, clearly enjoying the moment. "Turns out your mysterious houseguest has more valuable stuff in his pockets than he lets on."

Valerius looked at the sack, then at Theosis. " So you sold all the crystals?"

"Only one at first," Theosis said. "Then they asked for more. And don't worry—I saved a good number for emergencies."

Grace leaned against a wall as the builders unrolled blueprints. "So you guys are really going to rebuild our house?"

Broman laughed. "Kid, we've rebuilt castles. A village house? Easy."

The Aurellian female guard finally stepped forward, her armour catching the sunlight. "We've been instructed to stay until your return journey," she said to Theosis.

"Take the guest house," Theosis said, still in mild disbelief. "Or what's left of it."

The male raider chuckled. "We'll make do."

Anna stood quietly for a moment, then walked up and placed a hand on Theosis's shoulder. "Thank you," she said softly. "We wouldn't have known where to begin. Truly… thank you."

Theosis's usual smugness softened for a moment. "You're welcome."

Valerius crossed his arms and said, "I want sixty percent. They were my crystals weren't they?."

"Alright, you can have your sixty percent. " He smirked.

Valerius smirked back. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Grace turned to her parents. "Looks like things are finally turning around."

Frederick exhaled slowly. "Yeah. For the first time in weeks… it actually does."

The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the village, while the builders began measuring, marking, and prepping. The house was gone—but the future had arrived.

And it had money.

---

As the builders started hauling timber toward the foundation, Valerius raised his hand. "Wait."

They paused mid-step. Broman turned. "Something wrong?"

Valerius walked up to them with a rolled-up bundle in his hand. "Use this to rebuild the house," he said simply, then unrolled the bundle across a nearby plank of wood.

The parchment cracked open, revealing a detailed, multi-page blueprint sketched in charcoal and red ink. The builders leaned in, blinking at the neat lines, perfectly measured dimensions, symbols they had never seen before, and strange room labels.

"What… is this?" one of them murmured.

The blueprint showed a modern five-room house, drawn with remarkable clarity. Thick lines marked reinforced walls, cross-sections exposed piping systems and wiring routes. Labels like "toilet plumbing," "internal wiring channel," "water heater space," "kitchen socket grid," and "master light loop" were neatly printed next to miniature schematic drawings.

There was even a separate sheet showing something called "flush mechanism"—a strange bowl with pipes beneath it.

One of the builders whispered, "Is this… sorcery?"

Broman frowned and looked at Valerius. "Where did you get this?"

Valerius smiled faintly, not boasting. "I drew it."

The men stared at him, then back at the papers. "You?" one muttered.

Another builder ran his fingers over the intricate markings. "This is cleaner than any architect I've seen. Look at the proportions… the annotations… what does this even say? 'Wall socket'?"

One man pointed to a circular object drawn on the wall diagram. "What in the world is a light switch?"

The youngest of them whispered, "Do you think we can even build this?"

Another replied under his breath, "I don't even know what half these things do."

Broman cleared his throat, trying to look confident. "Yeah. We've built plenty. We'll figure it out."

But his eyes lingered on the flush toilet diagram far too long.

Valerius, sensing their confusion, folded his arms and said calmly, "If you need help understanding anything, just ask."

The builders exchanged awkward glances. Broman finally sighed, scratched his beard, and muttered, "Alright, kid. We might… need a bit of guidance."

Another builder added, "You know more about this than we do. We'll follow your lead."

A third one nudged the one beside him. "You ever built a bathroom with moving water and a sitting pot before?"

"No, but I've dug holes behind sheds, if that counts."

Valerius chuckled silently, then thought to himself:

Of course these backward people would be amazed. This is Earth-grade architecture. I designed this to run off a simple turbine system—if I can find or build a small waterwheel and wire up copper, I can generate basic electricity. Batteries will be the hard part, but with enough crystal residue and metal plating… I could make it work.

He scanned the blueprint in his mind, mentally listing the priorities:

Flush system: gravity-fed tank with basic plumbing.

Lighting: wire channels laid inside walls with a rotary switch powered by copper current loops.

Cooking: a fire-safe iron-lined space with ventilation.

Room layout: one master bedroom, two small bedrooms, a kitchen, and a living space with a dining corner.

He'd also included a gutter drainage system, rear entry for storage, and even rough sketches for future expansion—like a bath chamber and tool shed.

One of the builders stood upright and said, "You from one of them royal cities, boy? Never seen drawings like this in Grekon."

Valerius just smiled. "You could say that."

Another builder asked, trying not to sound desperate, "What's this here mean… the square with the three lines inside?"

"That's a socket," Valerius replied. "A place to plug in magic-powered tools or lighting, once I build the generator."

"You're making a generator too?" one of them asked, blinking.

"I'm planning to. Already have a few ideas."

Broman shook his head. "Well, if this works, it'll be the finest damn house in Kintol."

"Not just Kintol," said one builder. "Maybe the whole kingdom."

Valerius raised an eyebrow. "Let's get to work then."

---

To Be Continued...