Jorish held his sword, the rough touch of fabric on his skin reminding him of glory. He missed the feeling of the sun as it touched him, filled him with power. Yet he stood there, sword in hand, cloak covering his body as he faced a shifty looking youth. He looked to have lost the lottery of life, his face embellished with scars and burn marks.

Stillness froze the world for a few moments. Jorish and his opponent stood, motionless and silent, as they waited and appreciated the void of sound and sight. They kept standing, until with an unspoken agreement they both sprung into action, shattering the thin veil of silence.

Jorish kept his eyes stuck to the movements of the youth, he would never underestimate an opponent, no matter what. His eyes traced every movement of every muscle as the youth clutched his short-sword, trying to hide it to his side as he rushed forward. Jorish moved his sword forward, placing it in front of him in preparation for the youth’s charge.

Jorish disliked using swords, and felt their weight foreign to him. They lacked the heft and reach of his spear, but after his time in the trials he could say that he had at least a basic experience with most weapons.

Finally, the youth lunged as he turned his body, using his momentum to stab toward Jorish’s gut. Expecting it, Jorish sidestepped as he twisted his blade to the side, parrying the strike. He saw an opening as he forced his opponent’s blade aside, he prepared to move his sword to strike before he saw the other hand of the youth start moving. He whipped with his leg as he kicked the youth away, moments before he heard an eerie pop as a gray cloud appeared in front of the youth.

Jorish looked at the youth, noting the frustration in his eyes before he started rushing forward again. He moved forward, swiping his short-sword at Jorish as Jorish effortlessly parried and blocked, occasionally stepping aside or backwards to dodge a throw of sand, a dagger throw or another gas explosion. Finally, Jorish decided it was enough as he stepped forward, striking the short-sword out of the youth’s hand.

Jorish looked at the youth for a moment as he nodded, speaking. “Good work, but your strikes are still too telegraphed, and your tricks can only help so much. The moment you reveal your cards, you cannot deal them again.”

The youth nodded as he bowed, moving away. A moment later, another youth approached Jorish, he looked like he had just broken twenty years of age. He looked like a random youth you would find around, if you ignored his missing right eye. He handed Jorish a jug. Jorish grabbed it and downed it, guzzling the cool water.

He nodded as he spoke. “Thank you, Neil.”

Neil nodded. “Happy to be of service, Son of the Sun!”

Jorish grimaced for a moment, as thoughts ran through his head. I’ve overdone it earlier didn’t I? After his earlier display, many of the members of the squad were quite fearful of him, calling him as he requested, Son of the Sun. He had tried to intimidate them by his display, but it seems it had worked too well. Even after they started to accept him as one of their own, he was still called by that name. Jorish didn’t mind it, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find it a bit weird, a few weeks after they had started marching.

Jorish nodded towards Neil, he especially felt innocent, someone who was forced into living in the darkest depths of society, almost as a mirror to what Jorish could’ve become. Jorish slowly put his sword back in its sheath as his thoughts drifted, thinking about his goals and inspirations. Indeed, he was strong, but not strong enough. Jorish glanced at Sayaka as she approached him, her weapon tucked in her belt.

“Finished training?” Jorish heard as Sayaka asked.

He nodded as he asked. “Indeed I did. What is up?”

Sayaka frowned. “No new orders, leadership still wants us to march forward. They refuse to let us know of anything more.”

Jorish sighed. “I can’t understand what they are trying to do, and when I tried to ask Tyran… Let’s say the squad almost needed a new Officer.”

Sayaka chuckled. “Sounds like him alright.”

Jorish let out his breath again as he turned, holding his spear. “I’ve been wanting to try something out, mind helping?”

Sayaka nodded, as she took out her twisting sword, or so Jorish liked to call it. Jorish nodded as he grabbed his spear as well. Standing opposite to each other, Jorish explained. “I’ve been trying to understand and use energy more. I feel that I am getting there, but I lack the critical understanding. You are an energy practitioner, so perhaps you can notice something that I cannot.”

Jorish lifted his spear, until it was level, he held it with both his hands as he closed his eyes, trying to remember the feelings he had when he fought Dyce. He slowly opened his eyes as he gathered Energy and drove it towards the spear’s edge. He frowned as he thought about how slow the energy moved, he was unsure if it was purely his lacking Energy cultivation, or if it was something else, but in a real fight such a move would be simply useless.

Sayaka waited patiently until he finally moved, thrusting with his spear slowly. Sayaka parried the strike with her weapon, as a flash of green appeared momentarily. Jorish was thankful for Sayaka’s help, as she didn’t try to mask her Energy. He noted her energy as it moved in weird paths, almost slithering towards her twisting sword and twisting through its edge. He looked at her as he asked. “I just don’t understand it, those movements feel almost random, and my Energy wouldn’t accept such movement even if I tried.”

Sayaka shook her head as she replied. “Energy techniques could be taught, but they cannot be learned. A learned technique is just a useless technique. Each aspect, each person will have their own unique bodies and cultivations. Your techniques should be based on your own life, your own experiences.

Jorish sighed again, as he tried again. He could see gradual, small improvement at every strike, yet Sayaka’s comments irked him. My life experiences? It was a difficult thing to express, Jorish thought as he kept repeating his actions, unconsciously striking at Sayaka again.

Jorish felt his spear slow down as he thought about his childhood, perhaps one of the few times he was truly fortunate in his life, yet it was almost too short to remember. All he could remember was happiness and satisfaction. Jorish felt his Energy flow slowly, before suddenly getting slower and cluttered, as his memories kept flowing. He had faced hell, almost having to live in the slums as everyone tried to exploit him, almost losing everything his parents left him.

None tried to help him or support him, they attacked him instead. Being the child of two people who were burned meant that you didn’t have many rights, that was how many people were forced into the path of villainy in the slums. Worst of all, he didn’t know what they were burned for. The sun-touched cities were not famed for their fairness, or transparency.

Jorish’s fists tightened on his spear as memories of how he used whatever means he had, clawing through obstacles to grab his life from the edge of ruin. He felt his Energy move chaotically as anger and determination filled his memories. He had dreams back then, but he was young. He had succeeded in clawing out of hell, but he found out that he had hit a wall. It didn’t matter what he did, he had no way to exceed the ceiling that was imposed on him.

Frustration filled Jorish, he hated how he was forced to give up on hope, to learn how bleak the future was. Slowly, he turned from the hopeful youth to the lifeless husk that he was. The times before he met the Traveler were at his breaking point, almost losing purpose in living. Energy slowed down, almost stopping as emptiness filled Jorish’s heart.

Then the Traveler arrived, that had been the day that changed his life, at first, that day was full of excitement, as they discussed legends and stories that Jorish had spent years dreaming about. He felt excitement before it all turned into rage and chaos, the Traveler’s unknowing, or perhaps pretending to not know, comments drove Jorish to his breaking point. He finally broke the silence he held for tens of years, finally speaking out.

Then, he found himself on the stake, tied and burning. He stared at the Eye of Zeltol as it looked down on him, waiting for the moment to end his story, yet his story did not end. Pride and determination, anger and defiance rose within him, and the Traveler had given him a lifeline. One that he took.

Jorish hated the system in the sun-touched cities. He hated almost everything in his life, yet he had to admit. The sight of the eye of Zeltol… The pride of the dwellers of the cities and their determination as they clawed through hell to survive.

He hated everything in the sun-touched cities, yet he loved them. The sight of the eye of Zeltol as it powered up, filled him with pride. His thoughts wandered on, until it was interrupted by a thud.

Jorish woke up from his thoughts as he looked forward in shock, he saw Sayaka on one knee, holding her weapon in front of her. He saw the ground around her cracked, blood dripping from her arm.

“What the…” He muttered, watching in shock.

“Enlightenment. I would be a monster to move away or break out of your trance there, wouldn’t I?”

Jorish bowed at her, expressing his thanks. He was almost unconscious, movements guided by pure emotions. She had no reason to stay there and assist him, yet she did, risking getting murdered if he lost control of his strength. Getting up, he heard her speak.

“I must apologize, Jorish. If I had resisted falling a moment longer, you might’ve reached the goal you were looking for. I felt you getting ever closer to it, yet you never reached it.”

Jorish shook his head, he now understood he was heading towards that path. No matter how long it took, he understood what he must do next.

Jorish felt word stuck in his throat, yet he forced himself to speak them out, just before he was interrupted by a loud siren.

“What?” He said out loud as he looked at Sayaka, seriousness on his face.

“Enemy attack…” She muttered before she suddenly shook out of her momentary trance and shouted. “Enemy attack!!”

Jorish turned, as he began moving towards the camp, regrouping with his squad. He held his spear with renewed vigor and excitement. Finally, something to do!