Mavah clips Netil's claws. “What's wrong with not being able to cast?” She switches feet. “Plenty of tziremach don't cast.”

  Evox sighs and checks over his shoulder. Unah remains on her knees, listening to their conversation. Evox lowers his voice. “Before we were born, the Bognunrach at the time, his grandmother, was able to maintain peace across our nation.”

  Unah brushes her braids off her neck. “Wasn't Yatzir's mother the previous Bognunrach?”

  Evox nods. “Yes, she continued keeping the peace for some time.”

  Mavah sets the clippers down, then pulls a jar from her pocket and smiles at Netil. “This is a cream to protect your shell.” She massages it over each of his scales. Her eyes flick to Evox. “Is she the one that…disappeared?”

  Evox scoots closer. “We've heard the stories, but none of us know what really went on. The Bognunrach vanished, leaving Yatzir behind, and he hasn't cast a rem since.”

  Mavah shrugs. “I don't understand what's so bad about it. The thing that took her is gone, so why are we trying to draw his tzirem out?”

  Evox swallows and looks at Unah. She nods at him. He checks over his shoulder again.

  Neu stands there with her arms crossed and her foot taps the ground. “It'll be back.”

  Unah wipes her hands on her robe. “But, we were told that Imazet defeated it.”

  Neu bobs her head. “We thought she did…or Imartzah did.” She sits on the bench. “You have to remember that Imazet’s disappearance coincided with the heat's. The elders believed she must have found a way to stop it, but…” She stares at Evox. “A few weeks ago, Imartzah had a metzih and saw the heat return.”

  Mavah’s eyes widen and her hands shake. “That's why the Ogres came?”

  Neu nods. “Many are fleeing the South now. They said it's not safe because entire communities have vanished without a trace.”

  Unah shuts her eyes. “My parents sent me here because they wanted me to have a quiet life.” She looks up at Neu and grabs her hand. “Do you think they knew all those years ago?”

  Neu swallows and pats Unah's hands. “I don't know. I wish I did. All I know is what Imartzah tells me. He said that Yatzir is important to stopping it from returning.”

  Unah squeezes Neu's hand. "I haven't heard from my mother or my father." She gulps. "Do you think..."

  Neu lowers her head. "We have to focus on why we're here. Imartzah gave me a mission—just like he will for you when the time comes."

  Evox holds his chin. “Whatever happened to Yatzir's grandmother? How did she fight it off?”

  Neu shakes her head. “According to what I was told, every piece of history pertaining to Yeshmetz was destroyed.”

  Mavah closes the jar and stuffs it into her pocket. “By who? Who would do something like that?” She turns around and leans against the bench, bringing her knees to her chest, and rubbing a green tile on the ground. “Didn't they think we'd need it in the future?”

  Neu gazes at the wall of steam, blocking off the rest of the sauna. “I assume at the time she had good intentions…or she thought it would prevent unrest.” She glances between them. “The one who erased part of our history is—”

  A figure emerges from the cloud. It's large, bulging eyes squint at Neu. “Imazet.” His flippers slap the tiles. “She did so for a very good reason.” His skin is slick and green. A black, orange, and yellow robe drags behind him. “You have to understand that back then, Imazet wasn't simply fighting our greatest enemy.” He bows to them. “She was fighting people she swore to protect.”

  Unah and Mavah stare at the creature. Evox places his head on the floor. Neu rises and bows beside Evox.

  He smiles. “It's nice to see you, my friends.”

  Unah raises a brow. “Who are you?”

  Mavah scans him. “What are you?”

  He strokes the patchy grey whiskers hanging from what could be his chin. “My name is Imartzah, Bogchotz of Niruchah.”

  Unah slaps into the ground. “Forgive me, Bogchotz!”

  Mavah gasps. “You're him?” She laughs to herself. “I never thought that our leader was…”

  Imartzah grins. “Tzengenach?”

  Mavah covers her mouth and bows. “Apologies!”

  Imartzah chuckles and wags his flipper. “As you were, Uchimach.”

  They rise and peer up at him.

  Neu folds her hands. “I thought you wouldn't return until tomorrow.”

  Imartzah paces. “I wanted to surprise you all. See how things are going when I'm not around.” He pauses and waves at a group of fish swimming by. “Tell me, how are they?”

  Evox sighs and looks at Neu. “Adjusting to our ways. They came with a Chitzah from the Yarbil. I believe she's called Meritz?”

  Neu smiles. “Merketz.”

  Imartzah bounces to them. “Merketz is here?” He croaks. “Splendid! I haven't seen her in nearly twenty years!”

  Neu leans toward him. “There’s something else…” She clears her throat. “The boy is with them as you predicted, but he's… He doesn't have tzirem.”

  Imartzah shuts his eyes and smiles.

  Evox furrows his brow. “You already knew that!”

  Imartzah peeks down at them. “I've known Yatzir since he was born. Small and stubborn. Hard to read yet exceedingly brilliant—just like his mother!” He chuckles and continues to pace. “Doubt he remembers me. After all, it's been so long since I've seen him.”

  Evox whispers to Neu.

  Neu hushes him and stands. “Imartzah, he doesn't have any poremit. We've only examined him for a few hours and we can tell he's a lost cause. Our hope is better placed in one of his friends."

  Imartzah’s flippers pat the ground. “You're wrong!” He shakes his head. “Yatzir is going to be an extraordinary Bognunrach!”

  Neu jolts. “Bognun—he can't perform a basic rem! There's not a drop of tzirem in his body! How can we prepare him for—”

  Imartzah holds a flipper to her face. “Yatzir comes from a long line of tziremach that predate any of us. He isn't the first to be without poremit, but neither is he without tzirem.”

  The Uchimach stare at him.

  Imartzah folds his flippers behind his back and lifts his chin. “I made a promise to Imazet that Yatzir would not end up like those before him. His training will be my responsibility. All I ask is for you to serve him with dignity and respect because one day he will be your Bognunrach.”

  They nod.

  Imartzah smiles. “Now, tell me… Why aren't you tending to our guests?”

  The Uchimach scurry into the steam.

  Imartzah laughs and peers at Netil, who blinks at him. Imartzah bows. “Yes, young one. I do.”

  Netil blinks.

  Imartzah tilts his head. “If that is what you wish, then allow me to follow.” He lifts Netil and places him on the ground.

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  Netil leads Imartzah away.

  In a quiet pod, on a soft table, Irāvah moans as several Uchimach stand around her. One digs their knuckles into her shoulders while another works on her lower back. Two drive their thumbs into her feet and calves.

  Seol sits on the floor with a platter of fish in his lap. He sucks on a bone. “Mmm! They don't have fish like this in Yavima!”

  An Uchimach stands behind him and bows. “We used to trade with the Yarbil, but that was some time ago.”

  Irāvah’s head shoots up and her nails sink into the headrest. “There! Right there!”

  The Uchimach massaging her lower back moves his elbow back and forth. Irāvah gasps and trembles. Her sage cheeks darken with a blush and she drops her head. Her hands hang off the end of the table, twitching as she moans.

  Seol picks a plant off another fish, then chews on the head. “I could stay here forever!” He smiles at the Uchimach behind him. “Can I have more?”

  She nods. “It would be my pleasure, friend of the Bogenach.”

  Seol tilts his head. “I have a name you know!”

  She jerks. “Apologies, what shall I call you?”

  Irāvah holds up her hand. “Call him kitty!”

  Seol sticks his tongue out at her. “My name is Seol.”

  The Uchimach bows. “As you wish, Seol.”

  Seol smiles and watches her leave. He turns to Irāvah. “So…”

  Irāvah groans and wags her finger. “Don't talk to me about Yatzir!”

  Seol pouts and throws a plant at her. “We have to help him with finals!”

  Irāvah growls and sits up. She cocks her head to the side, then waves the Uchimach away. They bow and disappear into the mist. Irāvah glares at Seol. “No amount of studying is going to help him. He's taken the exam four times, what difference will it make this time around?”

  Seol shrugs and licks his fingers. “This time we'll be graduating and we won't get to see him anymore.”

  Irāvah wraps herself in a towel and fixes her bonnet. “Yatzir likes to be alone.”

  Seol throws another plant at her. “No, he doesn't!”

  Irāvah picks the plant off her shoulder. “Yatzir has been at the Yarbil longer than us. He's taken every test possible, but if he can't pass the final exam…” She shrugs. “He'll be on his own.”

  Seol sets the platter aside and crawls to her. “We have to try. We owe him!”

  Irāvah crosses her arms. “We don't owe him anything!”

  Seol climbs on the table, then punches her arm. “He kept us from getting banned!”

  Irāvah rubs her skin. “It was his choice to take the blame.” She gulps. “He didn't have to say anything! The Chitzah knew we cast the rem.”

  Seol punches her again. “We owe him.”

  Irāvah sighs and pats his head. “Fine, little kitty. We can help Yatzir.” Her eyes flick down to his golden bush. “After you put some clothes on.”

  Seol hisses and runs from her. “Never!”

  Irāvah chases him through the steam. “Put some damn clothes on before I turn you into a hat!” She bumps into Vuhtzev.

  Vuhtzev sways and steps back. “Woah!” He smiles at her. “You okay?”

  Irāvah checks behind him. “Where'd he go?” Her eyes chase the swirling fog. “Get back here!”

  Vuhtzev chuckles and shakes his head. “I see why Yatzir hangs out with you.”

  Irāvah whips around and creeps through the cloud. “Oh yeah? Why's that?”

  Vuhtzev watches her with a grin. “Because you care about each other.”

  Irāvah adjusts her towel and stares at him. “And why do you hang out with Yatzir?” She holds up a finger. “Let me guess… You pity him.”

  Vuhtzev scrunches his brows. “Pity?” He holds up his hands. “Yatzir seems like a nice guy.”

  Irāvah's lips twitch and she eyes him. “Hmm… I don't believe you.”

  Vuhtzev tilts his head. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Irāvah shrugs and saunters past him. “Don't take it personal! The list of people I trust can be counted on one hand!”

  Vuhtzev watches her fade into the steam and sighs. “I also see why he stays to himself.”

  Vuhtzev moves through the clouds, stopping as a large shadow passes, and he catches a glimpse of tusks. “Hey!”

  The shadow pauses, then turns. “Hey?”

  Vuhtzev moves closer and looks up at an Ogre. “You're from Arketva!”

  Shatzev chuckles and wipes the orange hair from her eyes. “I am.”

  Vuhtzev smiles and bows. “I'm from Etirvet.”

  Shatzev grins, then motions for him to follow her. They walk to a pod with orange walls, a small window, and a large bed. Shatzev sits on a stack of pale cushions. “Pull up a chair.”

  Vuhtzev moves a wooden chair next to her that creaks under his weight. “What's an Ogre doing in Niruchah? Don't they have saunas in Arketva?”

  Shatzev turns on the grill. “We have many things, young tziremach.”

  Vuhtzev tilts his head. “You're not like the ones back home.”

  Shatzev grunts, then opens a drawer beneath the grill. She pulls out two large fish and sets them on the burner. “How so?”

  Vuhtzev rubs his chin. “The Ogres in Etirvet weren't friendly.” He watches her toss plants onto the grill. “They'd never invite someone like me over for a meal.”

  Shatzev nods. “My kind have been used as a labor force for tziremach around the world.” She points at the scar on her face. “I took heavy losses in the fight to liberate them.”

  Vuhtzev leans in. “You're one of their leaders?”

  Shatzev snorts and crosses her arms. “It's refreshing to see a tziremach take interest in me.” Her breasts swing beneath her elbows. “Most of you think I'm some kind of monster.”

  Vuhtzev bows his head. “I'm sorry you've experienced that. Etirvet was hospitable to every creature, but only if they served a purpose.”

  Shatzev huffs and flips the fish. “No use dwelling on the past.” She nudges the plants. “My name is Shatzev, Bortzach of the Ogres, and survivor of the Shōpah.”

  Vuhtzev’s jaw drops. “You're their—I can't believe it!” He moves to the floor. “The Chitzah told me that the Shōpah were a highly advanced race that died out!” His smiles stretches. “But here you are!”

  Shatzev laughs and slaps her palms on her knees. “Didn't think anyone knew about us!” She puffs her chest. “Arketva is the remnants of my lineage. The Ogres in the South were separated from us during a trade. My father needed resources and made a deal with Etirvet.”

  Vuhtzev's eyes widen and he leans back. “I didn't know about that! The history books never said why there were Ogres in Etirvet, but one of my mentors told me that Ogres are older than the first tziremach.”

  Shatzev pushes a fish towards him along with a couple plants. “Your mentor?” She picks up a fish and takes a bite.

  Vuhtzev bows, then picks up his fish. “Yes, she was the previous Bognunrach.”

  Shatzev chokes and beats her chest. “Bog—nunrach!” She wipes her mouth. “You were trained under Imazet?”

  Vuhtzev lowers his fish. “Yes.”

  Shatzev sets her fish down and bows. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Bogenach.”

  Vuhtzev stops chewing. Heat swirls at his cheeks. He shakes his head and swallows. “I'm not the Bogenach!”

  Shatzev raises her head. “Then, who are you?”

  Vuhtzev wipes his hand on his robe and extends it to her. “My name is Vuhtzev.”

  Shatzev takes his hand. “Nice to meet you, Vuhtzev of Etirvet.”

  Vuhtzev smiles and takes a bite of his fish. “My friend, Yatzir, he's the Bogenach. His mother was Imazet.”

  Shatzev's eyes narrow. “And is he…like her?”

  Vuhtzev trembles and looks at the floor. “No, he's not.”

  Shatzev tilts her head. “Vahachme!”

  Vuhtzev jumps and nods to her. “He's just… Well, he's… It's hard to say really.” He sets his fish down. “Yatzir looks like her! He has her sapphire eyes and curly blue hair. He's pale, too. Kind of thin. And quiet.”

  Shatzev picks at her fish. “That sounds like Imazet.”

  Vuhtzev furrows his brow. “She wasn't like him! When she trained me, she always had this huge personality and made crude jokes!” He chuckles. “She was a lot like my mother.”

  Shatzev hums and raises a brow. “Vuhtzev… You're Vimak’s son, aren't you?”

  Vuhtzev jolts. “You knew my mother?”

  Shatzev rubs her tusk. “I heard the stories of Imazet and Vimak's doings. They were troublemakers! Yeshmetz would be rolling in her grave in she ever knew the things they got up to.”

  Vuhtzev touches his chin. “Yeshmetz?”

  Shatzev grunts and leans over. “You've never heard of Yeshmetz?”

  Vuhtzev shakes his head.

  Shatzev shrugs, then returns to eating her fish. “Yeshmetz was Imazet's mother, the Bognunrach before her, and cared for Vimak after…” She stares at Vuhtzev. “Yeshmetz was like a mother to Vimak, too.”

  Vuhtzev looks at his fish. “I never knew that.”

  Bones crunch between Shatzev's teeth. “Your mother never told anyone. She was scared to bring up the past. Imazet introduced Vimak as her sister, and they were, but it wasn't the entire truth.”

  Vuhtzev swallows. “How do you know so much about them?” He picks up a plant. “Were you their friend?”

  Shatzev scoffs and pounds on her chest. “I have lived for a thousand years!” She flexes her muscles. “The Shōpah have recorded all of our world's history…including the parts Imazet tried to bury.”

  Vuhtzev stares up at her. “What did she bury?”

  Shatzev finishes her fish, then scoops the plants into her fist and swallows them down. “Nothing I care to divulge to her mentee. She'd come back from the dead and haunt me if I told you.” Her eyes flicker. “There is one thing I can tell you since you're friends with her son… Yeshmetz was into some dark stuff—even for a tziremach! She believed that she could unlock the secret to tzirem and did some nasty research into Senemach.”

  Vuhtzev tilts his head. “Senemach?”

  Shatzev smirks and shuts off the grill. “I've said too much already.” She stands. “Take your fish and leave. I need to rest. We'll meet again.”

  Vuhtzev bows and hurries from the pod. He stands by the entrance, staring at the fish. “Senemach?” His brow furrows. “What does it mean?”

  Shatzev...Deceptive Aura