Meditation was working much better than David believed possible; he was essentially wasting his time in ways he had never had before, but it was helping him.

David could feel that something was clearer about his situation; he knew that he was holding himself back. He was essentially detrimental to his own persona. He had always wished to play it cool, to handle life as it came, live for the day.

It hadn’t really worked for him much, or at least, it had… up until a certain point in his life. But then it was washed away by his own stubbornness.

He knew that he had never really gotten over his unrequited love for Willow; he knew that by not allowing himself the chance to look elsewhere, he had essentially wasted years of his life. He had entrapped himself because he had become comfortable in his situation. Then when the time had come, he had turned into the hero—in not so shiny armor—and taken upon his shoulders to fix Willow’s mistake.

What a laugh…

He wanted to fix her life, right… that wasn’t how it worked.

He had fallen into his own trap, paid heavily for it, and didn’t even realize it.

Now he was in a pickle, in the primordial pickle, for if he didn’t let go of his bonds, he would essentially bring upon his own misfortune—again.

What he had received had been the chance of a lifetime. He could free himself of something that had troubled him since ever, he could pass through the bottleneck of his situation and reach happiness; he could effectively save his arse and finally grab the chance to find something that he had never allowed himself to reach… freedom.

Freedom of thought, personal freedom, freedom from worries, freedom from society… he wasn’t really an anarchist, rules were there to help the people, and he was very interested in helping the people.

Could he free himself of all that anchored him down?

Yes, he could.

Dave opened his eyes as a new man.

He found Wushu staring at him, and he looked deeply in his dragon’s—his very own dragon—eyes, saying, “I know kung-fu.”

The dragon rolled in the air nonchalantly as if he had heard nothing incredible.

Meditation reaches level 17. Improve mindfulness by 17%

Dave was defeated by his ignorant dragon, “Why do I waste such pearls with you?”

“What… What are pearls!? Aren’t you supposed to defend your pearls? Your family jewels, or something?” The Wushu had no idea what he was talking about.

“Alright, mate, don’t you worry, I’ll teach you everything you need to know. But we have to go now.”

Wushu danced in the air, “Where do we have to go? Of course we are going to Trespass the Wendigo.”

“Oh, don’t worry, you just wrap around my arm. I’ll do the heavy work. So that if we die, we do so together.”

Wushu gawked, then violently made acrobatics in the air.

“I was kidding… you might survive, alright? Probably—but now let’s go.”

***

They got by the waterfall’s stream, standing a hundred meters from the rapids, getting closer would surely alert the immobile Wendigo, and Dave still couldn’t allow that. He had to take his chance with it; he had to Trespass the Wendigo whatever means necessary.

Standing so relatively close to the Wendigo and going unnoticed increased his Stealth Skill level.

Stealth has reached level 13. Mask your presence to other beings with 13% efficiency.

David’s mind was getting cramped again, so he used his Meditation Skill to relax, and decided to free his mind by tying every loose end. He used his Attribute point and fed it to Mind.

Then checked on his full Status screen.

Status

Name: Deviant (David Anderson) Son

Blessing: Blessing of The Source (Unique) – Resilience + 1 every Level

Title: Trespasser (Unique): Locked

Level: 4

Arcanist, Class level: 4

Class Perks: Source Sight

Attributes

Health: 100%

Stamina: 100%

Well: 44.3%

Alacrity: 5

Constitution: 5

Perception: 4

Strength: 5

Mind: 17

Resilience: 16

Charisma: 4

Attribute points: 0

Auxiliary Skills

Art Skill: Drawing, Level 7

Communication Skill: A.S.U.T., Level 21

Healing Skill: Survivalist, Level 11

Meditation Skill: Meditation, Level 17

Style Skill: Stealth, Level 13

Class Skills

Primary Magic Mastery: Arcane Magic, Level 2

(1st) Fast Primary Magic-Skill: Homing Arcane Missile, Level 3

(1st) Heavy Primary Magic-Skill: Fast Arcane Discharge, Level 2

Passive Attribute Skills

Alacrity Passive Skill: N.A.

Constitution Passive Skill: N.A.

Perception Passive Skill: Detailed Info, Level 3

Strength Passive Skill: N.A.

Mind Passive Skill: Multitasking, Level 3

Resilience Passive Skill: Curse Resistance, Level 6

Charisma Passive Skill: N.A:

Skill-Level Tokens: 12

Minuscule Source Box: 1

Trespasser was still locked, but he didn’t care; it wouldn’t be so for much longer because he was about to Trespass or die trying.

“Here we go.”

***

“Gentlefiends,” said the Ancient with a smile as she descended from the top of a tree; the tree in question bent all the way down to place its branches on the floor of the rock trail that led to her abode.

The Fiends, led by General A’astor, had entered her abode without being invited.

At the same time, a coalition of old-Fays coming from the villa joined the Ancient quickly.

“Ancient Vesillya, it’s a pleasure seeing you after all these years,” said A’astor.

A’astor was a salt and pepper-haired Fiend, with deep green eyes, thin yet broad-backed. The Fiend was tall, not overly so for a Fiend still, his eight feet towered over the Ancient who had retained child Erin’s body, while old-Erin was not among those that had come to support the Ancient.

“Yes,” she said, “I remember about you, young A’astor, how’s your father.”

A’astor smiled; it was an overused joke from the long-living Fay, “He died twenty years ago, Ancient, yet he always remembered you fondly. He once spoke of a night many years ago, he spent it in your company; he never shared the details, though.”

The Ancient’s smile grew sympathetic, “Yes, dear A’astor, your father was a truly distressed fellow. He was always busy with building the peace among our races that he didn’t really manage to find the time to dedicate to his family, just as much as his wife didn’t seem to find time to dedicate to him. But I believe you should know that,” the Ancient raised her voice to cover A’astor’s ready answer, “it is people like your father that are lacking these days. He put everything he held dear aside for the sake of his people, even if that meant being abandoned by his own family. And yet look how much he earned by doing his job, and doing it well.” She graciously pointed at him with his hand.

“Are you implying that my Title is not earned, Ancient?” said an amused A’astor.

“You tell me, A’astor. You received your Title from your father. Are you acting by it?”

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t so,” he answered.

The Ancient chucked, “Ah… A’astor, I’ll just pass over those words as if they were not words of threat, just because you are still young. But, please, see it doesn’t happen again.” Saying so, the Ancient removed the ability that had been granted to her by her Title to hide her Status and revealed her might.

Fay (Guardian)

Level: 261

The Fiends knew about it, so there really was no surprise on their part, yet once again, Cyana could hear Five silently laugh it out to himself; he did so on the weirdest occasions. He seemed to take everything lightheartedly; it made her slightly uncomfortable.

The Ancient’s Title was an entire Rank above that of Defender A’astor.

“Well, thank you for sharing your Status with my colleagues, esteemed Ancient, but I shouldn’t be the one reminding you that Level does not mean power. Besides, I have come here to talk, not to wage war. And to answer your previous question, if I’m here it is because you are known to be… unpredictable.”

“I’ll give you that,” she giggled as if she was truly a child.

“Now that it’s clear we do not mean anything bad by intruding, would you invite us in to share some of your tea? I also heard that you have been working on an interesting concoction. We might share some info about it, or even plan for you to take advantage of our vast laboratories…”

“Well, if a visit of pleasure is the only reason why you are here, then before I invite you in, I would love to know why a spy,” she said, eyeing Cyana for a second, “has intruded my Garden with her Echo.”

Cyana didn’t know that the Ancient’s Aura given by her Title of Guardian reached so far, probably not even her Captain Virael knew. She reprimanded herself; they should have been better prepared.

“The soldier will be reprimanded for her foolish actions, but I can assure you they were not done under my orders. Besides, she’s as young as we allow them in the Special Units, maybe a bit too young,” said A’astor turning to look at her with a judgemental stare.

Cyana hoped it was just part of the show.

“Fair enough, A’astor; then, please follow me.” The Ancient gave him her back, then she and her retinue preceded them toward the villa.

A’astor joined close to her.

“Say, Vesillya,” he walked behind her, hands joined at his back, “do you know about an attack that took place to the southwestern end of the City, the abandoned outskirts?”

“Are you asking for my contacts with the rebellion, A’astor? Because if that is so, know that they banished me from their books a long time ago, but I won’t believe that you do not know about it,” she answered, her knowing smile still adorned her face.

“You can’t blame a Fiend for trying. But I won’t believe you didn’t hear,” he retorted.

“Indeed, you’d be wise doing so. I heard.” She nodded as she walked, then she remembered that she didn’t really like walking, so she transformed her legs into proper wheels, wheels made of flesh, and they started acting like such. The functioning wheels made of joints took aback even A’astor.

Slightly shaken, A’astor continued, “And what is it that you heard? I want to check if it coincides with my intel.”

“Well, I heard that one of your Trespassers died and the culprit has obviously stolen his Title,” she turned toward him, giving him a schooling scowl. “Playing with other people’s world will come back to bite you in the back, A’astor; Xaphi’rel should know…and so would Xantus. Especially after he let that Kin escape,” she chuckled, “proud of having formed another Trespasser I believe.”

A’astor sighed, “Shame on you, Vesillya, but if Warden Xantus heard you, he would likely laugh it out.” He admitted with a chuckle.

“So, you are not all broodings and worries, A’astor,” the ancient admitted, looking at him with different eyes, “I finally see something of your father in you.”

They swiftly reached her abode; the Ancient invited them to sit and try her tea; of course, the Special Unit was left outside of the balcony, and only A’astor, Virael, and the other squad Captain joined their table. Cyana, Five, and the other members of the Special Squad were left behind.

***

Cyana couldn’t help but gawk a little as she stared at the Ancient’s abode, luckily her face was covered by her mask, so she didn’t really need to reprimand herself that much.

The Special Units members had been left to move freely in the house, but V-Five—for when there were more of them, they would add their Captains’ name initial letters to their numbers—had left for the balcony right away. She was doing so, as well, but she was staring at the six members of Torstein’s Special Squad.

Cyana was pretty sure that the one that sat on the ground taking a meditative stance was an Eye. Indeed her Status was muffled. She hated Eyes.

Cyana wanted to confer with somebody, especially about that reprimand she had heard the Defender speak about, and if Virael couldn’t talk with her, maybe the more experienced V-Five would.

She could see V-Five from here.

He was leaning on a balcony, not the one where the tea was being exchanged; he looked in the direction of the Garden-Forest.

Cyana knew that the only way in which she could connect to him at that moment was through an unprotected Mind Link. She had yet to Rank it up in a way that allowed her mind to not be uncovered to others while she placed the Skill.

She doubted V-Five had a higher Mind Attribute than her, but she would still be wary…yet, she needed answers, and her head was not in the best place at the moment. So she placed the Mind Link surprising V-Five.

The Source

Your target has accepted the Link.

>

She was surprised that the first thing she thought about was that he wasn’t using the protocol; he should have called her V-Three.

> he replied to her, chuckling.

Embarrassment was all she could communicate for a second, then she steadied herself, coughing and making it pass through the Link as well, > she said, >

> answered V-Five.

> She asked more passionately than she wanted.

>

Cyana was surprised. Someone like Captain Virael would have explained to her that the way he did things was right; V-Five was instead advising her to make up her own mind… maybe that was how a Captain should really act.

Just thinking about such a thing made her feel so ashamed of herself to the point of wanting to chastise herself. Was she losing the way? Was that what Kva’ri taught? No, it wasn’t! Maybe she needed rest; maybe she just wanted to leave, to mourn, to get reprimanded, and spend a month at home.

>

>

> he said, and for the first time, she managed to feel his sincerity.

> she couldn’t restrain herself from saying it, but it seemed to make him happy.

> their connection was literally ripped apart when an inane scream came out from the Eye that sat on the ground.

Her head high, her face directed at the ceiling, she shouted with all the power she had in her lungs, and likely something else probably coming from an Auxiliary Skill.

“TRESPASSEEEEEEEER!”

—Then, it was chaos.

From the nearby balcony, where Captain Virael, Defender A’astor, and Captain Tortstein were speaking with the Ancient, shouts arose, one, in particular, was clearer than the others. It came from A’astor.

“You hid it from us!” He shouted, “Traitor!”

Then a cleave attack peculiar of the path A’astor and Virael—his disciple—had taken, bisected the balcony, burning through the sky as it descended toward the forest, cutting through the mist-covered Garden, the intensity of its power was such that Cyana had to squint for the amount of light that was being released. Still, the attack raged on, reaching the ground and leaving a gash into the heart of the Ancient’s estate.

***

Wushu wrapped around David’s right arm, and they readied themselves to do… whatever it was that they wanted to do.

“Wushu, it’s time. We are going to Trespass that thing. Are you ready?”

Wushu shook his head, “Was that a no? Well, I don’t care; there’s no more time for games!”

David started running. Not exactly toward the Wendigo, but at his left, he was aiming to reach the waterfall, the darkness behind it, the opening for his salvation. He would make it, no matter what.

So he screamed like the fool he was, waking up the sleeping Wendigo.

With calm, the Wendigo shifted his gaze toward him; with a little bit more haste, his claw attack descended in his direction.

Yet Dave screamed, mustering his courage, he didn’t even think about avoiding the clawing attack because he had no way to do it. Wushu wrapped even tighter around his arms, closing his eyes shut.

As the claw stretched long in front of David’s vision, his twenty-nine years of life passed in front of him in a flash. All his foolish choices, his wasted opportunities, his slipped-by chances. Yet he did not shed tears; why? Because that was his old life, he had a new one, a life with magic.

That old life was at his back. He had been reforged anew. A different man, a different person, not a man that had been in the gaol—no. He was a man that could not be stopped.

He was now a free man.

The Source

You have successfully unlocked your Title of Trespasser.

The moment that message appeared in front of his eyes, many more things happened.

First, an incredible light coming from his right filled his vision, as if a meteor descending from the skies, then he heard Erin’s voice, she was running at him, and she was closer than he thought possible.

Then he, the meteor, and Erin met.

The meteor was revealed to be a… Getsuga Tenshou—David would call it—that was about to cut through the garden while Erin instead threw herself at him sideways. The cleaving attack cut through the Wendigo as if a one-thousand degree Celsius blade slashed through a dry twig, then Erin successfully tackled him and—

Dave, Erin, and a Wushu, which had wrapped so tightly around his arm to provoke him multiple fractures, disappeared in a world made of darkly colored clouds.