Like a wave Source rolls up from my legs, flows into my core, and carries on into my arms. Through my hands it enters my ice-spear. Like a bubble bursting, the spear shatters.

“Fuck,” I curse.

The remains of a dozen or more ice-spears litter the ground around me. Nevasca and Kandra lounge in the shade, watching me struggle with the application of my new-found knowledge. The sky is streaked with purple, orange, and gold, emphasizing the size and imposing presence of the Dungeon. The sky-scraping towers and spires loom over me, judging me as I fail.

The few other guild members in the training grounds mostly ignore me except for the occasional chuckle. Although, I did get some reactions when I tried the Feint maneuver and ripped my arm out of its socket. Turns out the screaming turns heads.

Replicating a feeling that you’ve only felt once is difficult to say the least.

The sun is setting. I’d better go and meet up with the gang soon. Just one more try with the Smash. Gathering the Source from my calves to my hands is the easy part. Getting it to flow through the spear feels practically impossible. The furthest I’ve gotten is less than halfway. At first, I thought it might be the spear that’s the issue, but in my vision I only had a simple wooden staff. No runes, no carvings, and no magic alterations. Just plain ole wood. Plain ole ice should be the same, right?

Now that I’m thinking about it, maybe the ice can’t handle as much Source as I’m pouring in?

I start the motion again, but this time I try to use less Source. Practically nothing really. Not the raging waters that I felt the first time. Just a tiny little dribble. I can’t even say I would call it a flow. More like a trickle.

The Source trickles up my body, entering my new spear as I raise it overhead. The spear crackles in my grasp, but doesn’t shatter. I bring it crashing into the ground, funneling the source into the tip where it bursts out as the spear collides with the ground.

With a loud snap, the spear breaks in half. The structure must’ve been weakened by the Source flow. Hmmm…. At least it went all the way through this time though! I kneel down to study the impact made by the crushing blow.

It’s practically nothing. I could’ve stomped a crater into the ground bigger than this. On the bright side, it’s a step in the right direction. It’s also the furthest I’ve gotten.

The feint repeatedly ripped my arm apart. Not all the way, just tendons and stuff. Drop in the Ocean, which Nevasca helped me with, just transferred the energy deep into my chest. Honestly that hurt a lot worse than just bearing the force with my arm. And the movement one. Ugh, that long named movement technique. I can’t sense the energy. The whole technique relies on sensing that energy. I can’t feel a thing. Useless.

Ugh. I’ll practice more later. Time to get some drinks. Maybe Bonehammer’s spear will be able to handle more Source? Or maybe it will shatter and that will be ten gold down the drain. Dammit.

***

“I leave you alone for one minute and you ruin all the hard work I put into training you,” Honey slams back her beer as if to wash the taste of my supposed failure out of her mouth.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” I say, sipping on my smoky flavored alcohol. The bartender said it’s called ‘whiskey’ and its made from corn mash. It burns. I like it.

“Mordai, I’m getting another beer. Tag. You’re it,” Honey drains the rest of the beer and storms off to get another.

“I bet you two would have great hate sex,” Mordai comments dryly, sipping from a wine glass.

“No comment,” I glance over my shoulder for Quinn. She hasn’t arrived yet and I’m starting to get worried. We’ve been here for over an hour. “Tell me what she is upset about.”

“Alright. Alright,” Mordai grins. “Here’s the thing. Source usage is all about perception and understanding. Skill books force someone else’s understanding on to you.”

“Okay, but doesn’t that mean you’ll have more points of view to draw from,” I say.

“Technically, I guess that’s true,” Mordai winces. “But if you rely on others you’ll never get truly powerful. It stunts your growth.”

“Assuming that’s true,” I take another sip. “What do I do now? I’ve already used the books.”

“Which skills did you get?” Honey plops back down, beer in hand.

“One-handed polearm skills Smash and Feint, movement skill Secrets of the Lightfooted Heretic, and defense skill Drop in the Ocean.” I list off the skills. Where the hell is Quinn?

“That’s not too bad,” Mordai exclaims. “I’ve heard Drop in the Ocean is a good one and the polearm ones sound pretty basic.”

“Secrets of the Lightfooted Heretic?” Honey’s brow furrows. “Strange name. You’ll have to show me these new skills of yours. Tomorrow morning we’ll have a little spar.”

I do not like the way Honey’s eyes glinted when she said that. Her emotional range is screaming violence. Fuck.

“Yeah, I tried them out but I think it will be a while until I’ve mastered them. Maybe we can spar then,” I try to dissuade her. I know a beat down beneath the thin veil of ‘training’ when I see one.

For the record, I don’t appreciate the way Mordai is smirking at my misfortune.

“Sounds like you need practice,” Honey’s predatory eyes fix on me, refusing to be swayed.

“On a separate note,” I change the subject, hoping she’ll give it up. “Do you guys know where Quinn is?”

“Oh, yeah, about that…” Mordai finds sudden interest in the contents of his glass.

“Don’t beat around the bush Mordai,” Honey snaps. “I heard that Quinn’s husband is back in town. If she ran into him she’ll have to keep up appearances.”

“Keep up appearances?” There is this sinking feeling in my gut. Something is wrong.

“You know…” Honey gestures with her mug. “Marital duties…”

“Dinner!” Mordai coughs. “They haven’t seen each other for a while so they’re probably catching up over dinner. Makes total sense.”

Oh my god. Oh wow. Quinn is fucking her husband. Okay. Alright. That makes total sense. She is probably doing it for me. You know. To make sure that her husband doesn’t find out. She doesn’t want him to hurt me. I’m too weak right now. She is protecting me. Probably.

Dark, negative feelings well up inside me. Just like the birth of Legion. Jealousy, anger, self-doubt, etc. The full range of negative emotions associated with your romantic partner sleeping with someone else.

This time I’ll accept the feelings. I won’t fight them or push them away. They are part of me. Part of who I am. They won’t control me. I will control them.

The whiskey burns its way down my throat as I make my way to the bar to buy another. Maybe a few more.

Emotions are easier to accept as part of yourself when they are numb.

***

“Rise and shine sleepy head, time to do a little training,” a boot to the ribs jerks me awake.

My eyes flutter open. I brace myself mentally for the horrific hangover.

“Eurgh,” I groan in anticipation, but surprisingly there is no pain! Blood Source for the win! Regeneration is amazing.

“Come on,” Honey’s face peers over me. “I want to see what you’ve got. You were talking a lot of shit last night.”

“I’m coming. I’m coming,” I say.

“That’s what you said last night,” Mordai quips from the barrack’s doorway.

“Not me,” I look at Honey, then at Mordai, before my accusing gaze settles on Honey.

“Oof!” Honey responds with a solid right hook to my gut.

Heh. Worth it.

***

Not worth it. So much regret.

Honey has gotten ahold of two wooden clubs and is currently beating the living shit out of me with them. She twirls gracefully like a dancer. Sudden changes in direction keep me off guard. Her agile movements make her difficult to track and predict.

Her every movement punishes my mistakes, mercilessly. Mordai has already healed several broken bones, complements of Honey.

We agreed that this spar would focus solely on skills, so no magic allowed. I am now realizing how much of a handicap that is for me. My whole fighting style is based on using magic.

With a leap and a horizontal mid-air twirl, Honey brings her two clubs crashing down on to my wooden shield. The weight of her entire body and the force of her momentum is behind the blow. I try to let the energy pass through me, but again it gets caught up in my chest. The pain stiffens my muscles, causing me to react more slowly.

I thrust my wooden staff forward, trying to catch her while she is off balance, but to no avail. My pain induced hesitation cost me a rare opening.

Her left club loops under my staff, opening up my ribs for an attack. She spins on her planted foot, bringing her right handed club in a back handed arc. My instincts kick in and I drop the staff. It’s too late to avoid the blow, but the closer I am to her hand, the less it will hurt. I step forward, lashing out with my claws.

She skips out of the way, like a leaf on the wind. The club misses me by inches, forced out of trajectory by her movements. Unfortunately, I’m not lucky enough to dodge the second one.

When I come to, Mordai is kneeling over me, his hands on my chest. I open my mouth to speak, but he speaks first.

“Stop trying to beat Honey with technique. It’s never going to happen. That woman is a killing machine,” he speaks casually, appearing unconcerned. “This is supposed to be practice for you to work on your new skills in a battle situation. So practice. Taking a few hits shouldn’t be too big of a deal with your self-regeneration. Stop seizing up so much.”

I nod wordlessly. A feeling of disgruntlement builds inside me. I’ve come so far, but I’m still so weak. It’s just not fair. I’ve worked hard. I deserve this. People shouldn’t feel the need to tell me what to do anymore.

I push the feeling down. Getting frustrated at my weakness won’t help me get stronger. I have to focus. Focus and ty to remember the feeling when these skills worked. Like Mordai said practice, practice, practice.

What if I use all the skills with every single movement? Gain a sense of familiarity? That should be helpful. Not full on waves of Source, but quick little bursts using tiny amounts. If I had used a single feint when I thrust earlier, I might have caught her off guard. I don’t need a huge flurry like in my vision.

“Ready for round two, Snowflake?” I can hear the grin in her voice without even looking at her face.

When I look over, it makes me feel better that Nevasca is lurking behind Honey ready to pounce at any time. My fluffy guardian angel.

***

“Its barely been a full day!” Bonehammer glowers at me. “How the hell could I finish a whole set of custom armor and an enchanted weapon in a day?! If you want that kind of speed you can go find Tungan. One of my customers told me he finishes in like 30 seconds.”

“I’m not sure that means what you think it- You know what? Never mind,” I rub my temples as I talk to the feisty dryad. “How long do you think it will take?”

“Probably a week or two,” she glances toward the trap door.

“What if I lent you Fear for longer. Think you could get it done faster?” Ugh. She is too busy play-fighting to work.

“Maybe,” she sticks her little nose in the air. “How long?”

“If you can get it to me by tomorrow I will give it to you permanently,” I have this feeling of impending doom in my gut. I still haven’t heard from Quinn. It’s like she disappeared of the face of the planet. Something is wrong, I can feel it. I don’t know if it has to do with my Tyrant racial ability, but the feeling is tangible and I trust it.

I made some minor gains with Feint, Crush, and Drop in the Ocean today with Honey, but I still have a lot further to go to get stronger. A set of armor and a weapon could go a long way to comfort me right now. I’m worried about Quinn, but I’m too weak to do anything. I need something to help me feel even a little bit more secure. Even if that something is superficial.

“Deal!” Bonehammer grins like she played some great trick on me. Little does she know that I can remake Fear at any time.

I almost feel bad for taking advantage of the brat. Almost.

***

“Snowflake! Wake up!” My eyes flutter open to a blonde goddess shaking me awake. A smile splits my lips. She is safe. I worried all day and could barely force myself to fall asleep. But here she is. Alive and well.

Hmmm? Wait. Why is she surrounded by so much terror? The emotion infuses her very being. It swirls around her aura, blanketing all other emotions. It is even leaking out into her surroundings. Are those cuts and bruises on her face? Whats going on?

“He knows!” Quinn whispers with an urgent tone. “We have to run. We can’t fight him. I barely escaped from him. We have to go right now. Hurry! The Dungeon is the only place we can be safe!”