A nine-year-old Nimh went flying through the air, blood and spit leaving a trail from his mouth as he flew. His flight ended abruptly as he hit a wall of thick metal that shimmered black upon impact.

With a gasp of pain, he hit the ground with a wet thud.

“Get up Marcaeus.” A gruff man admonished, stepping close to his student.

With a painful groan, Nimh pulled himself to his feet, shaking. A strand of alien vital energy was coursing through his body, tearing his body apart from the inside as it made its way to his primal root.

‘Focus.” The man commanded, placing his hand on Nimh’s head. “The pain is nothing, your fear is nothing. You are the master of your body and no foreign force can overrule you.”

Nimh blinked back tears as the pain grew worse, the vital energy searing into his physical well, bombarding his primal root with released vital energy. Despite Daerin’s command, he was scared.

If the vital energy broke through his primal root, he would die. Nimh didn’t want to die, not here and certainly not now. But he couldn’t resist the foreign vial energy.

His legs gave out and he fell to his knees, curling up into a ball as wept. The pain was too much.

With a grunt of regret, Daerin placed a hand on Nimh’s chest, delving deep into his tiny body, retaking his strand of vital energy. Instantly, the threat of death was gone, and Nimh breathed a ragged breath.

“I’m sorry.” He whimpered, ashamed and feeble.

“You would be one of the greatest geniuses of the art in history if you had succeeded,” Daerin replied calming, taking a seat beside Nimh. “On your first attempt that is. You’re lucky your primal root was so well developed.”

Nimh nodded, though with his shaking it just looked like he curled tighter into a ball.

“It is not something to be ashamed of, failing." Daerin continued. “Between you and me, I’ve been waiting four years for this day.”

Nimh finally managed to regain control of his body, a small stream of vital energy flowing through his ravaged body. With a pained expression, he sat up, crossing his legs and leaning forward, wiping the tears from his face.

“You’ve been waiting for this?” Nimh asked.

Daerin nodded. “You are talented Marcaeus. More talent than me at the very least. You’ve passed every test I’ve thrown at you and trained with the zeal of five boys. But I have always wondered what it would take to push you to your limit. What would make you stumble to your first failure.”

There was a strained moment as Nimh looked dumbly at his master. "You wanted me to fail," Nimh said in disbelief. Daerin did not advert his gaze and the older man smiled. “You are developing well, given some more time, and you will overcome this too. By the ancients, soon you’ll be taking students of your own.”

Nimh paused for a moment before snorting at the ludicrous words coming from his master's mouth.

“I’m not fifteen yet, not even close. I still have six years before I’ll have a student.”

Daerin mussed up Nimh’s hair. “Then you had better keep improving, six years to iron out the faults in your forms and surpass me in every way. I have faith you can do it.”

A silence settled between them, an unsaid sentiment hanging before them.

“I wish you could watch me get that good,” Nimh said sadly.

Daerin grinned. “Chin up Marcaeus, training you for the last four years has been a pleasure. I’m glad your grandmother talked me into it.”

Nimh scowled at the mention of his grandmother, the mother of his father. The matriarch of his family line.

“You will need to accept them one day,” Daerin said gently. “When you become a man, you come to learn how important the lines of our people are.”

“I want nothing from them,” Nimh muttered. “I’d rather follow my mother with a broken line than to be associated with them.”

“Ahh.” He said leaning back, appraising his student. “You still hate your father then. Well, fair enough, being a Nimh isn’t such a bad life, but it doesn’t offer the opportunities that a Ra…”

“Daerin Si’roh. Please.” Nimh all but shouted, cutting his master off.

Daerin paused, and then the smile returned to his lips.

“Si’roh,” Daerin said, “You know I can almost tell how angry you are just by how you say that word. But, let me ask you this, do you truly accept me as your Si’roh?”

“You are more father to me than my own father,” Nimh said immediately.

“So, you say,” Daerin said simply. “But how much of that is because of the shame you hold due to his failed coup?

Nimh did not answer, so Daerin continued.

“There are many that would call him a hero, others, a butcher. But I will tell you a secret. Their opinions do not matter.” He poked Nimh in the chest, over the heart. “What matters, is that what you feel towards him is a curse upon your heart. It will drive you to bitterness and despair and in time, devour your life entirely.”

“So, promise me you will kill those feelings. If you hate your father so much, learn to let him go. If your shame for him keeps growing, learn to let it go. Turn your eyes to your future and treat the past as a lesson, not a shackle.”

Nimh did not know what to say, so he nodded dumbly and Daerin laughed.

“Right, I’ll be reminding you to do that plenty of times, won’t I. Anyway, break time is over. This time, you are going to overcome my release on your own. STAND!”

Without a second thought, Nimh shot to his feet, taking his position.

An instant later, he was flying through the room again.

Nimh landed hard, bouncing off the floor as the vital energy released by Stain tore through his body. A heartbeat later, he spun in mid-air, regaining his feet as a spurt of blood escaped his lips.

“That hurt,” Nimh growled through clenched teeth.

Rallying his vital energy, he intensified its flow, combating the foreign vital energy. The agony made him freeze for a few short seconds, his body in a state of instability. Bones snapped back into place as his injuries tried to heal and regain full control of Nimh’s body.

At the far end of the room, Stain was in bad shape, arm hanging limply by his side and he seemed unstable due to the massive usage of vital energy. That at least made Nimh feel better at being outplayed.

Glancing down, he saw the state of his left arm. It was at a disturbing angle and Nimh knew it would hurt a lot more if he let his vital energy heal it. He also knew he’d need it to beat Sebastian Stain.

Turning his eyes back to Stain, Nimh forcefully healed his arm. With a gut-wrench twist and snap, it regained its proper position and Nimh’s eyes watered with tears.

In return, Stain stared at him with abject horror. “How?” he murmured.

Nimh smirked. “You know what I am, yet ask a stupid question like that?

“Primal root.” Stain spat.

Without responding, Nimh shot forward. Despite Stain using the force of a D Rank's ability to release vital energy into Nimh, Nimh was far better at controlling vital energy. Within his own body, only he reigned supreme so the contest was over quickly with Nimh absorbing the remnant vital energy into his physical well.

It had been painful, but neutralising Stain’s pathetic attempt at release was child's play. But it did put Nimh on edge. If he hadn’t forged his primal root, he would be dead right now.

And that was unforgivable.

With all the speed and power Nimh had managed to develop, he attacked. This time, he didn’t defend. Stain rushed forward to meet him, another powerful blow charged with vital energy blurring towards him.

But this time, Nimh was ready.

Nimh did not block it, instead, he swayed, letting the blow trace alongside his skull as he pivoted. It was a reckless manoeuvre, leaving Nimh fully open to a devastating second blow.

Stain did not have time to launch one. Because Nimh wouldn’t allow him to. Using the combined force of his spin and the vital energy coursing through him, Nimh struck out with a kick. A resounding crack, like thunder, echoed through the room as Nimh was sent stumbling backwards.

Stain, on the other hand, hit the ceiling with enough force to bury him within. Debris fell to the floor as seconds passed, a groan of pain coming from the man who had ruled the undercity.

Taking a moment to rebalance, Nimh looked at Stain. He was alive, Nimh was sure. D ranks were a tough lot. Looking at the carnage around him, he shook his head.

“I should have beaten you faster.” He said conversationally to the man in the ceiling.

Stain groaned in response. Nimh nodded, looking toward Keira.

“Hey, it's okay to come over now.” He called.

Like a rabbit, Keira poked her head into the room, cautiously looking around. Nimh took some satisfaction when she saw Stain stuck in the ceiling. With a quick motion, she made her way to Nimh’s side, staring up at Stain.

“How did you do that?” she asked amazed.

“Practice,” Nimh said easily. “His vital energy has been stalled, so he’s as dangerous as an F Rank with a broken back, isn’t that right Stain?”

Another groan and more debris hit the floor. Then Stain came free from the ceiling, hitting the floor with a grunt of pain.

Keira shot back startled, but Nimh just watched. “Well, that was fun. What do you say Stain, want to go a few more rounds? Next time I can even go with a handicap, what do you say?”

Stain groaned again, though this time he managed to move, rolling to his side.

“Oh, I suppose you're not in a state to heal. Don’t worry, the suppression will not last more than a few minutes. Just breathe.”

Nimh’s words made Keira stare at him in horror. “He can still heal from that?” she barked.

“Of course. He isn’t dead, so he can still heal.”

“Then shouldn’t we kill him?”

“Why would we do that?”

“Because you killed his children? Because he wants you dead!”

Nimh rolled his shoulders. “He isn’t a threat to me, not anymore at least. Now Stain, look at me.”

Slowly, Stain craned his neck, looking at Nimh with a healthy measure of fear and fury.

“Good. Now while you are lying down having a rest, I want you to listen to what I have to say. When I am done, you can make a decision.”

Stained groaned and Nimh took it as a sign of approval.

“Very good. Now, as you have correctly indicated, I am a spirit invader. Later, you will tell me more of what you know about my people. But more importantly, I have come here to conquer this world, and you’re going to help me.”

The room was silent, only the clinking of rocks and glass punctuating the space. Then Stain laughed.