The house rattles as Lucas slams into the walls of the training room once more. Colt is sitting in the main room, eating a bowl of soup that he made for himself. Pity soup. A bit slops on the table with the last crash. Colt frowns. ‘I thought I had him with the poison.’

Mentally rearranging the spell structure like Pasivier showed him, he tries to make his poison target the liver so that it can’t be metabolized so easily. It’s hard, however, this wasn’t the original intention of the poison.

Being mainly a paralysis poison, its originally intended target is the muscles, weakening them. Making it still target the muscles while also disabling the liver’s cleansing capabilities is proving quite the challenge.

Getting frustrated, Colt stands up and heads out the door. He’ll have to face Pasivier’s disappointment sooner or later anyway. On his way, Colt spots a bellowclaw lobster, the perfect target to vent a little on.

Drawing his dagger, he slices forward, riding on a flurry of wind. The exhilaration of feeling like flying helps to clear his head a bit. Now above the crustacean, Colt unleashes his fury in the form of a Fist of Gaia. Rocks and vines gather around his fist, empowered by his Wild Magick.

His attack connects before the creature can even react, a loud crack sounds out from under his fist. The lobster is crushed in one attack, leaving Colt calmer, if a little dissatisfied.

“What have I told you, Colton? All that moping is unbecoming of the Fair Folk.” Pasivier is standing on a rooftop near Colt, staring down at him, a purple glint shining from his eyes.

Jumping down, Colt’s mentor lands without a sound, the ground entirely undisturbed. “I don’t wanna hear it, Pasivier.” Colt keeps walking, heading towards the field that he always trains in.

“Seems an attitude adjustment may be in order here.” A flash of purple is all Colt has to react to as he draws his dagger once more. The Starstrike catches Colt in the side, sending him sprawling across the street.

“You need to be taught humility. You would not have lost had you not hesitated once your Insidious Poison took effect, Colton.” Colt rolls to the side as another blast of energy nearly takes him in the chest.

Flipping up and running towards the field, Colt communes with the nature around him. Vines and roots sprout up around Pasivier, barely slowing his pursuit. Claws of celestial energy cleave through everything in front of him.

Now in the field that has served as his training grounds, Colt turns to face the snobby Fae.

“I know my mistake, Pasivier! I’ll be better next time!”

“It shouldn’t have to be next time. Astral Barrage!” Small bullets of yellow and purple light fire out from Pasivier’s hand, faster than Colt’s eyes can perceive.

Instinctively, Realm of Autumn: Fallen Leaves activates, the shield catching most of the blasts.

“Can we just please talk for a second, I’m sick of your ‘lessons’!”

Pasivier grins.

“Talk? We can talk.” The magic-infused sound of his voice causes Colt to drop to the ground in pain. Anger builds inside him as this abuse continues.

At its peak, he feels a rush of energy from the ground fill his body. The pain in his head evaporates as a green aura covers his body. A floating visage of twining vines and leaves floats behind Colt. Staring at his mentor, filled with rage, Colt extends out a hand as he stands up.

The Fae of the stars jumps to the side, only to be stopped by a wall of force. Looking down, he notices he’s in a ring of mushrooms. Fear fills his eyes. “Now now, Colton. Let’s be reasonable about thi-”

“No.” Pasivier cries out in pain as the full force of the faerie ring hits him. “I will not be treated this way any longer. Not by you, not by my dad, not by ANYONE!” His master crumples to the ground under the force of Wild Magick. The world around him is shaking.

“Okay! Okay! We’ll change just PLeAsE sTOp YoU’re KiLliNG mE!” Pasivier’s voice is a croak at this point. Realization dawns on Colt as he reigns in his anger, releasing the magick and dropping to the ground.

His own head is throbbing from the strange, unknown power filling him. Tears fill his eyes as he spots purple blood gushing from his teacher’s eyes and nose.

Pasivier coughs up blood and spits it out. His body looks extremely pale and translucent. Tentatively, he stands up and steps out of the fairy ring, expecting the invisible barrier to still be there. Walking over to Colt, he settles next to him.

“Colton, I’m sorry. It’s been so long since I’ve seen another Fae. I’ve been so hard on you because... I’m... scared that you won’t be strong enough otherwise. I see the error of my ways now.” Pasivier’s disappointment in himself is obvious.

“It’s C-Colt.” The voice is muffled from his head being in his arms with his knees pulled up to his chest.

“What?” Pasivier’s voice sounds confused.

“My name. It’s Colt. My d-dad c-calls me C-Colton.” Colt tries and fails to stifle his tears. Pulling his legs closer, he balls up further.

“I suppose I’ve never truly inquired about you Colto- Colt. I believe I know what you are going through, however. My father was a rather nasty brute of a man himself… What is he like?” Pasivier tilts his head slightly with his question.

Colt sniffs, takes a few breaths, and calms down somewhat.

“He’s… Not a nice man, to anyone. Not even my mom.” Colt hiccups, holding back another sob.

“Well, that simply won’t do. We’ll have to teach you how to show him a lesson then, eh?” Pasivier’s voice is a bit awkward, unused to this kind of interaction after so long.

“A lesson isn’t enough for him. Here.” Colt pulls off his shirt and shows Pasivier his back, marred with various scars, and even one cattle brand.

“He likes to drink.” Colt’s words are filled with silent fury.

Pasivier’s eyes darken at the display.

“More than a lesson indeed.” Standing up, he dabs blood away from his face with a cloth that doesn’t appear any dirtier after the fact, despite his face being pristine once more.

Offering a hand, he pulls Colt back up so they’re both standing.

“Let’s teach you some lessons you can teach him then.” Pasivier’s eyes are burning.

“I’d like that.” Colt nods and moves into a combat stance.

------------

My head is spinning as I crash into the wall of the training room once more. I knew what I was getting myself into, but Ilmarinen’s training sessions are harsh. Rolling to the side, his anchor crashes into the ground beside me.

The concussive force of the blow sends me skidding across the floor. My anchor is back on my earring, so I pull it off, extending it back to full size. Facing Ilmarinen once more, I launch myself at him with a Crashing Wake.

With no wasted motion, Ilmarinen dodges me by a hair’s width.

“Ye will have te be better if ye want to land a hit on me, lad.” His anchor crashes down on me, flattening me to the floor. He then boots me back across the room.

“Again. Am only going at a wee bit of me full power, lad.”

Gritting my teeth, I stand once more. My HP hasn’t dropped even once during this training session, but the hits still hurt. According to Ilmarinen, the Protection of this room is tied to his MP, so he knows exactly how much each hit damages me.

Letting my fury build, I pour mana into an Undertow and Watery Grave, attempting to slow Ilmarinen’s movements. He’s bringing himself down to a level that he believes I should be able to handle, but his experience shows through.

Dashing at him once more, I change up my movements with several beacons of Plot Course, attempting to make myself unpredictable. Ilmarinen expertly blocks each of my anchor swings once I get close with his own before raising a leg and kicking me away once more.

“Lad, ye would be dead ten times over from now. Ye need to think harder, smarter, faster.”

Glaring at him, my voice is seething. “I know that, Ilmarinen. You’re just too good!”

He frowns at that.

“Then be better.”

He disappears with a crack, at my side in an instant. Batten Down appears immediately but shatters upon his hit. “How can ye protect yer friend if ye can’t even protect yerself?”

My rage is a burning inferno inside me now. Feeling it, I grasp on to that heat. Water and wind begin to rage around the room. Ilmarinen’s eyes widen a fraction as an invisible force comes from me and hits him.

“Storm’s Rage” Taking his momentary surprise, I push my limits, adding a larger amount of knots to my legs. Several beacons light my path to the octopus man. Speeding at him, my anchor catches him in a blur of motion. “DEVASTATING IMPACT!”

He's sent to the ground by the hit, skidding across the floor as I did earlier.

“Oh god, Ilmarinen! I’m sorry!” Running over to him, he’s already sitting up. His eyes are full of pride.

“Ye did it, ye surpassed what ye thought ye were capable of, lad.”

Level up! From developing several new skills, improving your performance, gaining your Talent’s battle aura, and surpassing your limits while under the teachings of a Grandmaster Anchorist, your Talent: Fledgling Anchorist has reached (37/50)!

By training and becoming more attuned to your Anchorist Talent under the tutelage of an aquatic race Anchorist, you have gained the Perk: Dermal Denticles!

For reaching your seventh Talent milestone in Fledgling Anchorist, you have been awarded applicable stat points to Strength, Endurance, Dexterity, Willpower and + 210 XP. In addition, you have been granted the Perk: Personal Hold

Level up! By continuing to use your spells creatively, your Talent: Fledgling Mage has reached (15/50)!

For reaching your third Talent milestone in Fledgling Mage, you have been awarded applicable stat points to Intelligence, Attunement, Willpower, Insight, and + 90 XP. In addition, you have been granted the Perk: Spellslinger

Skill level ups have occurred! Check the skills menu for further details!

“Woah! Ilmarinen! I got some really cool perks! At least I think so. Dermal Denticles, Personal Hold, and Spellslinger! I’m sure the second is cool, what does the first do?”

He sighs. “Ye have a Perk menu lad, look at it yerself.”

Giving him a teasing smirk, I open the menu. ‘Perks’

Perks:

Dermal Denticles

Description: When in contact with water or by will, your skin sprouts dermal denticles, increasing your hydrodynamic capabilities while also providing a slight defensive bonus. Endurance and Dexterity increased by 2, +2 Endurance and Dexterity per level.

Personal Hold

Description: You now have an internal pocket dimension hold. With a thought and slight mana cost according to the size of the item, you can store anything non-living inside this space. Strength increased by 3, +3 Strength per level up.

Spellslinger

Description: Mana runs through your body smoothly, all spells have a 20% decreased cast time. Intelligence increased by 1, MP Regen increased by 0.1, +1 Intelligence per level up, +0.1 MP Regen per level up.

Testing quickly, I will my skin to sprout the “dermal denticles”. It’s kind of uncomfortable, but it doesn’t hurt. Running my hand over my skin, there’s a smoothness that wasn’t there before, but it feels rougher when I go the opposite direction.

“Ilmarinen I’m like a shark now!” Using a Crashing Wake, I move smoother through it than I ever have before. The skill seems to activate even faster, but it’s hard to notice because it was already pretty instant.

Until I crash into a wall because I wasn’t paying attention. Ilmarinen facearms and walks out of the room.

“Ow, god my head, okay we’ll probably test that more outside.” Looking inward, I can feel a new, empty space inside of myself. It feels far bigger than me but somehow contained within me anyway.

Walking out into the main room, I notice Colt is gone. No surprise there, he’s always off training with Pasivier. Grabbing the Basics of Fire tome off the table, I move it towards my body, focusing on storing it. Before it makes contact with my skin, it disappears from sight.

“Wooghf, weird.” The book is inside my… hold?

“Ilmarinen, am I turning into a ship? These perks are awfully suspicious sometimes.”

Ilmarinen is once again hammering away at metal. “Do I look like a ship to ye, lad?” He shakes his head, grumbling, and returns to the weapon he’s making.

Testing further, I’m able to store and resummon anything out of my body. I can even directly equip things from my hold with the equip screen. It’s been augmented to display a view of the inside.

‘Seems space is limited then. It’s still fairly decent size though.’ “This is like an inventory in a game, Ilmarinen, watch this!” Grabbing several fruits off the table, I toss them at my body, storing them and making them appear in the opposite hand.

Ilmarinen mutters to himself “To be young again…” before returning to his smithing.

The next hour or so is spent exploring the capabilities of my hold. Ilmarinen yells at me a few times to put something back. Such as when I stored the couch or the table. They’re inconvenient to store anyway, they take up too much space.

When attempting to store Ilmarinen’s entire larder, it won’t enter the hold. ‘I should have enough space… Oh. MP cost. Right.’ A quick check of my status tells me I have about 14 MP left. So much storing and retrieval drained my stores.

“Whatever, I was bored with it anyway.” Grumbling as I walk out to the main room again, the door opens.

Colt steps in with Pasivier following behind him. “Colt! Look at the cool new perk I got!”

Grabbing the Basics of Fire tome again, I store it away and make it reappear in my other hand. Using up the remainder of my MP, I’ll need to wait for more to regen before I can do anything else.

His eyes light up. “Woah! How did you do that?!” He quickly walks over to me, grabbing the tome. Inspecting it to determine it wasn’t just a trick, he opens it and glances through the pages.

“Personal Hold! It’s one of the new Anchorist perks I got!”

Colt thinks for a moment on that. “So what you’re telling me is that now you’ll have a lot of junk in your trunk?” He raises an eyebrow and grins at me.

“If you’ll excuse me Colto- Colt, I’m going to talk to the blacksmith.” Pasivier sneers slightly at me, but Colt just smiles at him. Weird.

Whispering to him, I lean in close. “What changed? You seem a lot more comfortable around him now. He called you Colt too!” Colt blushes for a second, eyes shifting to the side.

“Let’s just say we uh, came to an understanding.” He doesn’t give me anything more before turning to the kitchen.

“How about I make us some food?” Damnit, he’s got me. Hook, line, and sinker. My weakness.

“I would love food! I’m starved! Can we make something that’s not fish for once though?”

Colt glances to the side. “Yeah, sure, but uh, we? If you don’t mind… I’ll make the food.”

“But wh- I don’t make food that bad!”

Colt is slowly backing away to the kitchen. “Yeah but it’s um, never above adequate. I’m really craving something… More.” He slams the kitchen door behind him just after he crosses the threshold.

Vines wrap under the door and around it, sealing it shut.

“Damnit, I wanted to help. Why do I ruin food?”

------------

Pasivier approaches Ilmarinen, feeling a bit awkward. “Hello blacksmi- Ilmarinen.” His address changes with the look he’s given.

“I was hoping I may be able to commission some… Repairs? I can pay of course.”

Ilmarinen waves him over. “Let’s see the damage.” Pasivier flourishes a hand, the items appearing on the table in a flash of purple and yellow light. A pair of twin daggers catches Ilmarinen’s eyes. He snatches them off the table immediately.

“These be Baraquiel and Seraphiel! I thought these be lost to the ages! Me mentor made these many tides ago!” Pasivier looks nervous at the breadth of knowledge Ilmarinen has on his weapons.

“Well, yes, I commissioned these… some time ago. They have served me well.”

Ilmarinen is running his arms over the metal, eyes closed while he senses them for damages. “The metal has held, but the enchantments are falling apart. I believe it to be in my ability to fix these. It won’t be cheap though!”

With another flourish, a pile of gold appears on the table. “Will this suffice?”

Ilmarinen counts through the coins, not even phased by the sheer size of the mound. “Yes, it should cover the boots and chest piece, too. A discount for teaching the lad.” He nods to Colt.

Pasivier’s eyes glint for a second with a mixture of guilt, but also pride. Ilmarinen doesn’t question the look, getting into other people’s business isn’t his job.

“How soon can these be done? I have backups but… I’m not a fan of being away from them.” He indicates to the daggers.

“I believe I may be able to rush the job. How be… Three days from now?” Pasivier nods, a faster time than he expected. He attempts to hide his surprise, however. Apparently, he has underestimated this blacksmith.

“Perfectly agreeable to me. Thank you, Ilmarinen. I shall take my leave for now.”

As he walks back across the main room, he speaks through the kitchen door. “I shall be in the field once again tomorrow, Colt. Do not be late!”

A muffled confirmation over the sound of clanging dishes and water pouring is all Pasivier receives.

In moments, Pasivier has already returned to the forest where his home is located. With a few whispered words, the air ripples, allowing him to return to the Fae Forest.

Once inside his house, he enables his security enchantments before collapsing in a chair, his heart thrumming.

“That crest above him… And controlling the Faerie Rings… He can’t be…?”