“Mimic's Black Widow, Latrodectus imitoris- believed to be a mark of the Fiend’s meddling with Eryth’s ecosystem during the Wars which force-evolved an existing species into a tool of war. This hunter-stalker arachnid species has the capability to mimic it's prey’s voices, while it does not explicitly indicate any form of sapience it is an intelligent spider known for its luring and ambushing tactics. When a brood is large enough, it is not uncommon for an arachnae to evolve from a brood mother. Nests are considered a gold rank threat and must be eliminated on sight…” from Philiarz Warnerskemander’s Bestiary for Adventurers: ‘Exotic Beasties and Where To Find Them

The fortress was big, ancient and rustic. That it still stood was perhaps testament to the attempts of a bygone civilization that wanted their legacies to be immutable against the tide of time. Buried beneath the plastered walls that spoke of numerous renovations, most of them in varying shades where walls chipped or flaked off, it spoke to him about the fickleness of hiding flaws and things that you didn’t want out in the light.

Some places had patches that showed remnants of a fire so long ago, some gouges, as if a battle between man and beast was fought while others were unexplained, possibly the work of old magic. But they all spoke of an attempt to cover up defeat; they told one side of the story to those who looked at them. Maybe survivors would have told a different tale, but that was beside the point.

“When our clan first settled in this fortress, we had to rework some of its parts. You see, while the majority of it was sound, some walls were just rushed work by whoever had lived here before.

The new builders could see right through the attempt to repair the fort with substandard materials just to give the illusion of security,” Venera said as they walked towards the higher floors. They had been walking around a while, to acquaint Arthur with areas he would need to know; like the bailey or the yard currently occupied by warriors training.

“I have a feeling there is a message for me in there somewhere,” replied Arthur as he navigated the worn steps, right behind Venera.

“Mmh, I’ll leave you to find out.”

“Wow…cryptic.”

“Ha-ha. Such is the nature of the mind. Now come along, do not tarry.”

They emerged onto the topmost floor, where a flat roof opened to the sky. It was perhaps four or five storeys off the ground and he could see the moat, and the land as it got further and further away.

The desert was just a distant line of reddish yellow that wavered in the heat like mirage. The air passing the battered crenelations was cool, however, thanks to the weather enchantment which formed a barrier halting the encroachment of desert sand.

“So then, what is it that you wanted to tell me all the way up here?”

“You’re no fun Arthur. Wouldn’t it hurt you to do a little dance around the issue?”

Arthur just shrugged.

“Well then, before I take you as my pupil. I need you in your best state of mind and health. The message in the walls was, sometimes we have to rip away the illusion of safety before we can build it stronger; unyielding even. We might ask ourselves, what is the harm in not breaking something that seems to work?”

“Mmh?”

“The word here is ‘seems’ to work.’Seem’s denotes imitation, illusion not the real thing; It means our conviction is not fully committed.”

“I am not following?”

“Sands blast it, you’re as stubborn as a llimu !” She threw up her hands “Fine then, I am telling you verbatim. You need to know yourself better if I am to train you. We don’t know, maybe some of what you are repressing maybe trauma or memories that might bleed through your walls and make you hesitate or recoil in a crucial moment. It happens—”

“Are you sure there is no other way?”

“No. Besides, do you know your aura is all over the place? You might have to rein it in when you go into a human settlement. I wager you didn’t even notice. To do that, you have to fix your psyche or again, one day you’ll be caught in a trance that’ll send you harming someone close to you or harming yourself.”

“Fine then…fiiiine. Ugh! I guess I had it coming.”

“Good. Now face the subject of your fears…tonight before we start training. Follow me to your quarters.”

Having a shrink who could both be mellow and subtle or as blunt as a flung brick when she wanted to be was not Arthur’s idea of a sword trainer. He was at an impasse.

On one hand, he wanted to rip off the band aid that was holding back his memories and face his demons so that he could move forward with his swordsmanship.

Contrarily, he also wanted to just go at his own pace and unravel his past as it came. But there were a bunch of powerful beings in this world who could just waltz past his mental firewalls and see him for what he was.

He felt like Eryth needed some very stringent privacy regulations about peeping into other people’s minds. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, unless some sort of mind control monster tapped into his unknown memories to debilitate him when he was vulnerable; yep that was definitely possible.

Maybe Venera knew something about his failure to get a class related to swordsmanship or his dagger? Perhaps his psyche was the mental block…since the World rewarded effort and intention, half-assing his reasons for taking up a sword might have just been the hurdle.

That the only people who knew what was bothering him were a niche species did not give him reassurance either; at least they could only parse things that flowed into his subconscious not his actual memory center.

He looked at the large arched window where Oonaris’ moon and another pink celestial body still growing into its shape hung in the night sky. He knew neither of them by their names; he never stopped to ask because he didn’t consider himself the religious type.

The magical sconces on the walls cast a light not unlike that of incandescent bulbs, illuminating his temporary residence with its meagre furnishings.

It looked unused and recently cleaned even as the room still stank of dank air and mildew. He had his beddings spread over a bed made of brick and wood in the middle; at least it was better than sleeping on the floor.

‘To move forward, I have to go back’ he muttered. He retrieved the electronic gadget which may or may not have been a vault for his memories and looked at its outline under the mage lights.

Unlike Aeskyre’s copy, he had yet to repair the cracks and scuff marks that marred its body of metal and glass. He scratched at his brow in hesitation as his eyes darted around the room before going to the open window. With a well-aimed gust of air, he shuttered the opening before turning his attention to his phone.

Unlike the last time, there was no need to use [Diagnostics] since its identical twin gave Arthur all the information he needed to know about what needed fixing. He cast [Basic Repair] and like the last time, magic lit up the phone, erasing the signs of physical and water damage on the screen; then followed the recharging of the battery which was almost instantaneous.

Then came the dreaded moment; Arthur swallowed nonexistent saliva, his throat was dry and his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. His hands trembled as if he’d caught the chill. He was in his own bubble of silence as the welcome screen transitioned from ‘Hello’ to asking for a sim code.

There was no network with which to use it, thus with a sweaty thumb, he pressed the skip option and the screen went to the lock screen. Arthur’s eyes glazed over and a ringing sound squealed in his ears as time seemed to groan to a crawl, locking his mind in a world of its own.

A calendar notification that showed a birthday that he had never made it to; three missed calls from—

No before that, a familiar face; a girl draped over his shoulder on the lock screen wallpaper. Same blue eyes, one in a wink, longer auburn hair tied back in a ponytail, a backdrop of a training gym.

A sunset glinting off the front windows of the fuselage, whining engines from a charter jet on the runway and the sounds of luggage wheels on the tarmac—

Indistinct faces like reflections in a misty bathroom mirror, a female voice urging haste, and older male voice bellowing in laughter and a gaggle of other individuals making their way past the open doorway. A polite hostess offering a welcoming smile while in her burgundy uniform and cap—

The sound of something clattering onto the floor broke the spell and Arthur woke from his daze and found his cheeks wet. His chest hitched in uncontrolled gasps while an unforeseen pain blossomed like heartburn.

Arthur grit his teeth, wanting to throw the phone as far away from him as possible. He half wanted to pack the recollections in a metal box, wrap mental chains around it, attach an anchor and drop it into the turbulent murk that was the deepest recesses of his mind.

‘No,’ he bit his lip, ‘keep moving forward…never back.’ Groggily he released gasping breaths and stowed away the phone in [Inventory] without another look as if his gaze would get beholden to it.

‘Small steps’ he thought as he climbed onto bed casting a [Kill Switch] to douse the magical lighting. There were no dreams that night, and Arthur was grateful for it; he needed rest for what was to come the following day.

Knowing that Arthur had [Regeneration] that could mend flesh and bone, the buxom woman in charge of Arthur’s swordsmanship training was determined to run him rugged.

It made Aeskyre’s training montage look like a summer camp by comparison. The kid’s gloves were off as it were, besides the blunted training swords there was no protective gear save for a leather cuirass for his vitals. No other gear was allowed because she was a healer and she knew when to pull her punches and when to go all in,

“It will train you to be wary of getting hits in, build your tolerance to pain, increase your endurance and make your body remember it” she said. Even stamina was remedied by her [Reinvigoration] spell.

“In battle, pain must be an afterthought, if you flinch you embolden your enemy and make them more aggressive to finish the job.” She added as she proceeded to beat him black and blue. Her thrusts were relentless and her guard was impeccable.

“You must not look at my footwork, your eyes should watch my shoulders and my wrists; they are the best tells of where my sword will go.” She grunted mid-lunge.

Arthur stepped out of the way of the blow and deflected it with the side of his sword; but it did not come, rather, Venera redirected it mid lunge and scored a hit in the ribs. He winced but he did not dare to drop the sword.

“You leave yourself too open; and your moves are too choreographed. Improvise as you go,” she swept off Arthur’s feet from under him. But he rolled away as soon as he hit the ground. “Good, always keep moving… do not commit to an attack if you are at a disadvantage,” she added when her sword failed to corner her quarry on the ground.

In a circle, the two fighters shuffled probing each other’s defenses, one looked as if he was at the end of his rope; the other looked as if they’d just come from a spring stroll.

With their opponent diagonal to the position of where the attack would likely come from, “When retreating, unless you are in a restricted area, walk sideways not backwards, your opponent has the advantage of getting to you faster than you can backpedal.”

And that was only the first day. He wasn’t even able to train with daggers that evening because his body was so battered he could hardly lift his hands. But Arthur thought the exhaustion was welcome as he went to sleep early that night; it helped keep his mind off things. Well, he was going to sleep, but her found an unexpected hooded visitor outside his sleeping quarters.

“Uh, hello?” Arthur’s head swiveled to and fro watching if the was someone else in the hallway, “Can I help you with something?” as his hand went towards the sheath of his dagger.

The stranger stepped away from the shadows and pulled back her hood, White locks fell away as blood red irises turned to regard him.

“Oh, it’s just you,” Arthur relaxed. “Sorry, about being on edge. Training and all that…I think my body’s still jittery from the action.”

“Why are you here?!”

“Huh? Because those are my sleeping quarters right behind you.” Arthur replied pointing to the locked wooden door behind the girl.

“Are you not afraid of us? We’re fiend-kin you should, despise us. What are you hiding?”

“Whoa whoa, hold your horses there. I don’t know what you think of me but I swear, I have no designs towards you or any of your people. I am not so prejudiced to start loathing the people who rescued me in the desert.” He threw his hands up, palms open.

However, the expression he got in response wasn’t what he was looking for. Nora’s face seemed to say ‘are you stupid?’

“Nora is it?” Arthur sighed.” Listen, I know humans are not exactly the most welcoming people…but I don’t know how to prove it to you—”

“I believe you…”

“Huh?”

“You heartbeat and perspiration, you are not lying.” She blushed, turning her face away. “Sorry, the answer was right in front of me but I let emotions cloud my judgement.”

“Oh...alright, I am glad that is out of the way,” he said approaching the door to his room. Nora shuffled out of the way.

“Won’t you ask me?”

“What about?”

“What I am?”

“I think I would know,” Arthur gave a curt smile as he unlocked his door. “Blood red irises, fangs and pale skin…that makes you a dhampir. Am I right?”

“That is so…I’ll be training you from tomorrow then.”

“Please take care of me until then, Miss Nora.”

Nora nodded before retreating to the shadows. They morphed to cover her form before disappearing into the walls.

‘So that’s what Nox affinity does,’ Arthur mused as he locked the door behind him. He walked to the windows, opened the shutters and peered over into the bailey lit by braziers in the night. He puffed out a breath of air and then climbed onto the window sill to gaze out into the Erythean night.

Resting his back against the window support he thought, ‘Nora Angustifolia huh? It might turn out to be a hell of an adventure. I have no doubt she can hold her own. But, I have to get stronger, else all this power in my body is for naught…glass cannon. He shook his head.

From the corner of his eyes, he thought he could see the shadows near his bed stretch, but when he turned his attention to them, there was nothing out of place.

‘Heh, must be exhausted if I am seeing things, he got down from the window. When he neared his bed though, he saw his Nightstalker cloak, chain mail and watch on the covers. ‘Oh, I forgot about those.’ He scratched his neck. ‘Must be shy if she couldn’t give them to me in person.’

“Thanks Nora…” he said to no one in particular as he put them away and went to sleep.

Sadly...the World was quiet that night; he didn't level. Besides, he was both mentally and physically exhausted to care.