When all was said and done, and his head hit the pillow, the curtains pulled closed, and he lay in the dark with nothing but the gentle hum of the ship and his very thoughts to distract him, everything that the priestess had pried loose inside him came cascading down once more.

The memories barreled upon him, spiling through his pitiful attempts at stemming that procession of endless images, sounds, and sensations in black and white crystalight. The memories flowed from one another, pouring from one into another with no rhyme or reason behind them, and the Ceremony morphed into his parent's last days, which morphed into the cannibals, which then took the form of the Clean berating him as a child…

That night, his dreams were plagued by unceasing nightmares, though he was unsure of whether he was even asleep or simply remembering the truth of his past. And so was the night after. And the one after that as well.

Night and day blurred into one, and not even his wakeful hours spared him from the nightmares that assaulted him without rest or break.

His mood soured, darkening under the torrential, endless, downpour of memories that were as though he was reliving every single, darkest moment of his life on repeat, and he began to avoid his party, especially a concerned Jul, who had as expected, made a full recovery from the confluence. Fortunately for him, she was being hogged by the Master of Shadows to make up for lost time, and he rarely saw her. As for Rel… Nar preferred not to think of the archer, and he focused on nothing but his training.

But even here, the memories would plague him.

They blocked his learning of his newer, localized, battle aura cycling. They turned him aggressive in his sparring, and they blocked him from learning the basics of his [Aura Blade]. And the more he failed, the angrier he got, the worse the memories became, the worst he felt, the more he failed at his training… The cycle was unending, and the dungeon was fast approaching.

Sixth night found Nar gasping for air on the floor of his master's private training room.

"Get up!" the master barked at him. "Again!"

I'm running out of time, Nar thought.

According to Kur, they would go into the dungeon in exactly a week's time, on the next Sixth's early morning. And they would be traveling throughout the night of Fifth to get there, meaning, Nar had barely five days left to master both his new, localized combat cycling and the yet out of his grasp [Aura Blade].

He didn't want to disappoint his master by delaying his training schedule, and he didn't want to go into the unknown of the dungeon without his new skill and cycling to back him up and his party. The ranged [Aura Blade] skill in particular, was something he was burning to acquire, as it would dramatically alter and boost his combat capabilities and style, and give him a whole lot more flexibility and capacity for both offense and protecting the party. However, all he could see before him was the darkness of the past.

"Focus!" his master snarled at him.

The golden man's blade was like the storm during the confluence, and in that still room, Nar felt as though he was back outside, dangling from the promenade on his jump safety belt, with the winds and currents lashing and whipping at him, tossing and turning him around like the little toy he was in their midst.

And the memories spun and spun, slicing and stabbing at him amongst his master's unrelenting strikes…

"It's just a tiny thing," his dad had told him, when Nar had discovered the early, blue sign of the Wasting's death sentence at the tip of his finger. "Don't worry about it! It'll go away!"

His master's foot cracked into his ribs, and Nar flew backwards.

"Again!" his master snapped, as Nar coughed specks of red and struggled to breath. "Stand up!"

Nar clenched his teeth and raised himself upon his sword.

Why… he thought, glaring at the man. Why is he being such an ass all of a sudden?

Gasping, Nar lifted his sword and stumbled back.

And why is this damned aura not doing what I want it to? He though, glancing at the flickering ball of light within him. Where was that anger and might which had pushed out the priestess from his mind?

But his master was on him in the space between him blinking his eyes, his [Instinct] shouting at him. Nar lifted his sword, but the blow landed with such force that once again, he was sent back flying.

"Stand up and fight!"

What does he think I'm doing! Nar thought, a snarl escaping through his clenched teeth.

The master was on him even before he got up to his feet, forcing Nar to roll out of the way from his blade or to be skewered. And he knew that the master would not stop his blade at the last moment. Every time they sparred, Nar did so with the full knowledge that he could easily end up in sick bay.

With a low growl, he rose to his feet and pounced on his master.

Why! Why! Why! He thought, raining blow after blow upon the Master of Blades. Why won't it go away? Why can't I shut these fucking memories down?

Death. Burning. Beating. Exploding. Carving. Machine. Spitting. Crying. Screaming. Popping…

A wordless scream escaped his throat, and he pressed down on his master.

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! He shouted at the vortex of memories that howled within him, threatening to drown him. And just fucking. Come. OUT!

His aura convulsed like a caged beast roaring for release, and once more Nar reached for it, pulled for it, seeking to flood his pathways with its searing light… But that damned [Mastery] yanked at him, keeping him from going as far as he wanted to go, and true to his promise, even in the depths of despair he found himself in, he didn't try to skirt around it. But he needed more… He needed to try something different.

The memories assaulted him once more, and in frustration, he cried for his aura, calling for it with everything within him. And suddenly, there was a moment of silence…

"Everything will be okay," his mother told him, combing gently through his hair. "We will sing and pray, and the Crystal will protect us."

But it did not…

A strangled, inhuman cry erupted from the depths of his soul, a dark and white thing, and suddenly, his very aura shifted within him, the grays being swallowed as the whites shone razor sharp, and the blacks deepeneed to all consuming voids, and he cycled.

A torrent burst forth from his core, inundating his body and setting his pathways ablaze.

"Focus it!" the master shouted. "Through the blade!"

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Nar grit his teeth and pushed the rampaging aura down his arms, and into his blade.

"Cut, Nar!" his master ordered. "Imbue your will upon the blade and cut the very Creation before you!"

With an effort that took every single shred of willpower from his being, Nar raised the glowing sword high above his head, and with an aura distorted shout, slashed down with all its might, setting it free.

A line of fine gray, tinged with black and white, spliced the air apart before him, then burst forth with a low, distorted growl, and the sudden explosion of released aura blasted him against the wall, and he crumbled to the floor.

From afar, Nar felt kind hands raising him.

"Did I… Do it, master?" Nar asked.

A gentle hand lifted his head.

"Look, Nar… Behold the beginnings of the true might that will one day be yours."

Nar forced his eyes to see, digging into his [Sight] for aid in steadying in blurring vision. Before him, a line cut through the floors of the training room's reinforced aura absorbent tiles, and embedded itself deeply into a light gray, matt wall that now lay exposed behind them.

"Well done, my apprentice."

Nar allowed a small smile to touch his lips. "I'm sorry it took so long, master," he whispered.

However, his master shook his head. "It would have taken as long as it took, Nar, and I was not displeased by how long it was taking you. This is a difficult thing to achieve, and many take years to do what you have done in weeks! And I'm proud you resisted the temptation to try and skirt around your [Mastery], as control is the only way with this skill."

"Something did happen, though... My core…"

"Yes. For a moment, you directly touched the aura within your core, imbuing it with your desire, frustration and need… And aura is something that responds quite strongly to emotion, Nar. Much more so than aether, by virtue of coming from us, ourselves."

His master laid a hand over his chest.

"In a guided and controlled way, this is the only way to achieve some skills, especially when we are trying to go as fast as we can, and it was the only way for us. Going forward, we shouldn't need to do so again, but we first needed to show your aura, and yourself, that it was possible to do this. From now on, we will just be building upon this, and it should be a lot simpler. Not easier, but simpler," his master explained in a gentle tone. "And Nar, I am not unreasonable. The reason why I was such a hardass this week, is because there is one thing that I do not tolerate above all others in my apprentices. One thing that I feared you would fall into."

"Weakness?" Nar asked.

His voice sounded so distant even to himself. So effortful. And darkness circled him from the edges of his sight… But he still caught the Master of Blades snorting.

"You're a level 30 apprentice delver! You're supposed to be weak, and you are weak!" the master said. "No, what I cannot tolerate is victimhood and feeling sorry for yourself. Do you know why?"

Nar just about shook his head.

"Because being the victim removes all the power from you, and gives it to everything and anything else, Nar," his master explained. "And my apprentices are masters of their own fate, do you understand? No matter what they've been through. No matter what has been done to them, they are still the only ones who can build their paths and the futures they dream of. And I refuse to see any of my apprentices robbed of that might!"

A solitary tear ran down Nar's check, as darkness and memories competed to see who could claim him first, even as he burned with regret and shame at himself. But his master wiped his tear for him.

"We all hide terrible, terrible things in the dark corners of our minds," he said, his tone softening even further. "We're ex-Climbers, and it takes quite the something to make someone look between the Climb and their current situation, and choose that deadly path. All for the tiniest sliver of a promise of hope and freedom in the O-Nex..."

The warmth from his master's hand over his chest had been spreading as they spoke, and it now cycled and mixed in with his own aura, following it back to and seeping into his core, gray, whites and blacks being tinted by bright green.

"Some of us have had it worse than others, and that might very well be your case," the master continued. "But to continue letting those memories and past chain you down? You deserve so much more than that, my apprentice, and I am doing my all to make sure you get it. And I'm afraid that means we are not done yet tonight."

His master's aura pushed into his core and Nar gasped in agony. His limbs twisted and spasmed as the foreign aura poured into his most secluded place, the one directly touching his very soul.

As Nar twisted and convulsed, the Master of Blades quickly spotted what he was looking for, and zeroed in on a very, very thin string of pink, tied around Nar's core with a vicious like grip despite its near non-existent thickness.

With a deft surge of will, he pressed into it, forcing it deeper into Nar's aura core. Below him, Nar's eyes rolled backwards into his head.

"Cycle!" he shouted at Nar. "Hang onto your aura! Come on, Nar! Come on! It's you who has to do this!"

Beyond his reach, he could feel Nar's aura igniting at the intrusion. Rallying against the foreign pink aether, roaring and snapping to be freed from it, devouring the pink string from the inside, even as he pressed it in from the outside with his own green aura.

He could've easily reduced that pink aether to nothing, but that was not his intention. He was merely the catalyst tonight. He was just the helping hand, and Nar was the one that needed to overcome this trial, just one, in an endless stream to come for him… He had warned Nar about his training, and now, he was delivering on it, and this was just the beginning.

"You can do it!" the master urged him. "Come on, you are tougher than this! Your path will yet demand much more than this! Rebel against the intrusion! Burn it out!"

Nar screamed wordlessly under him, his back arching to the point of damaging his HP. But from within, his apprentice's aura flared both brighter and darker, and with a final external push from the master, Nar's aura wailed in pain and rage and finally found a way through. With a flare of panicked pink, the string broke apart into tiny pieces, which Nar's angry aura quickly devoured like a maddened beast.

With a sigh, the master wrapped his own aura around Nar's core, and held it from exploding outwards, ready to destroy everything that surrounded Nar in vengeance and protectiveness, as against such an intrusion and violation, [Mastery] held no meaning nor authority.

Nar's aura, rampaging out of control, tried to break through the globe of bright green that encapsulated it, but the master held firmly onto it. Eventually, Nar's aura began to falter, and

when at last it was done and spent, the master cycled his own aura from the boy, and lowered his apprentice gently to the padded floor.

"There we go," he said, squeezing Nar's shoulder. "We're done. It's over. Well done, my apprentice."

To his surprise, Nar's eyes flared open, and the boy stared up at him, tears streaking down the sides of his face. There was such sadness in them, such grief in those haunted eyes, that for a split second, the Master of Blades felt a needle of something digging deep into him. It tried to penetrate through the decades of defenses he had erected, and he found himself drawn into Nar's dark eyes.

"I'm sorry…" Nar breathed, as he closed his eyes once more. "I failed you? Master…"

The Master of Blades took a deep, steadying breath, erasing the stray emotion from within him.

"I am the one who is sorry," he whispered, knowing that Nar was both gone and would not remember what had transpired here tonight. "But this is the path before the both of us, and I can only do the best I can to prepare you… No matter the cost."

And lifting Nar up into his arms, the Master of Blades headed to the sickbay. Goal number one, to unlock the beginnings of [Aura Blade], had been achieved. Now, they just needed to wait till the morning to see if goal number two had also been successfully gained as well.

*********

Aedina opened her eyes mid-prayer, and the whiplash of her broken skill bent her to her knees.

The sliver of her mind that she had separated to keep hold of the skill within Nar, returned to her in a chaotic screech that exploded within her head, and she bent forward to empty her guts before the altar of the Most Holy.

Well, that's that, she thought, wiping her mouth with her sleeve and mentally ordering the chapel's door to lock.

Breathing hard, she sat down heavily, her back against the recently fixed pews, and massaged her head against the pounding headache ravaging her from within.

That lasted a lot longer than I thought.

They had dragged it on for a whole lot longer than she had expected, and by the end, she had in effect, if not in intention, basically been torturing the boy, trapping him in what was effectively a living nightmare composed of all of his darkest memories playing on repeat. That he hadn't broken, let alone be driven deeper into the affinity they were still trying to avoid, spoke to the possibilities of all that they hoped for.

Well, it was their idea. Not mine, she thought, grimacing at her soiled sleeve. Ugh.

She pressed her eyes shut against the pain and tried to ride it out. Her skills were a lot easier and lighter with her patron's [Divinity] boosting her, but they didn't want to draw any attention to the Scimitar, so that was always out of the equation, and she was always forced to rely upon her own attributes and capabilities.

Hopefully, that did the trick, she thought, leaning her head back against the pew. Though I doubt this is going to be the last time… And, Rel! Damnit! We were just starting to get somewhere… It's not going to be easy to get her to open up again, especially as I need to take the fall for this, as always.

She sighed heavily and glanced down at the puddle by her feet.

Oh, well… Best get this cleaned up before someone comes.

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