Mahon gave his envelope to Yordar while his opponent was nervously looking at the map representing the imaginary battlefield. Mahon’s forces were everywhere, rampaging what was left of the defending army.

His opponent was a First White from the residence just below his. The man had thought he could easily defeat the commoner, but he had become pale and shivering, as the scenario he had chosen had quickly gotten out of his hands. It was the fourth person to defy him since he got promoted, almost five weeks ago, and Mahon had no mercy for them. They just wasted his time. In less than fifteen rounds, Yordar called for Mahon’s victory and they left the classroom.

Zac was waiting for him outside as it was already time for their patrol. Since Tiarsus’s death, they hadn’t been able to learn anything new about the Fada cultists and Ravatoris had turned crazy. Somehow, the cult’s idea had spread and a lot of people joined their ranks and the cult was more active and daring than ever. And yet they still didn’t know how to bring it down. Despite catching Fada cultists every week, their interrogation led to nothing. They didn’t know anything about the highest levels of the cult, their targets or how to contact them. The cult managed to stay shrouded in mystery.

That’s why Jorik made them work even harder and they had a deal with the school that they could skip some lessons for better patrolling coverage. That mainly meant more patrols and less training for Mahon and Zac.

In the last five weeks, Mahon had progressed by leaps and bounds and he had finally reached a physical level close enough to his objective. The difference in their spars had been immediate and Slander had noticed too. Mahon and Zac had been promoted to duel against First Green this week and they were still winning. Travaran’s threat was a long forgotten memory now.

Mahon was faster and stronger than Zac. They were capable of the same physical prowess, but Mahon had decades of experience over Zac. He knew how to better use his body. He was always a step ahead and four or five in his head. His mind knew what to expect from his body and his moves exuded control and efficiency.

In the past days, he had felt the pull of the Flow multiple times and knew he was close to Flow for the first time in Ratho. His body and mind were aligned, the rules of moving in Ratho were inscribed deep in his mind, and the principles he once applied in Nightmare had been translated to Ratho. His body was more than capable of following the Flow. He was ready for it.

“How was it?” Zac asked as Mahon approached him.

“Boring. Fourteen rounds.”

Zac chuckled. “Is that a new record?”

“Yes, maybe. I don’t know what they’re trying there, though. They must know by now that they can’t beat me in strategy nor in the arena.”

Zac shrugged as he answered. “Honestly? You’re a commoner. They don’t know you, they just think you ranked up because of me, which you did, by the way. And they try their luck.”

“But it was five weeks ago! The first one… ok, let’s say the first two to challenge me had every right to do so, but after that? Shouldn’t they know what to expect now?”

“Do you talk a lot with your roommates?”

Mahon fell silent. They almost never exchanged a word with the other First White with which they shared their residence. At first Mahon had thought they would be able to bond with the others as they did during the first two months with the other First Red. He even had Zac, the man everyone liked, with him. How could they fail?

Alas, no one was interested in them. Not in them specifically, but in all their roommates in general. They were like mini versions of Jorik. They had a serious face and spent all their time practicing and training. If Mahon hadn’t met Zac, he would probably be just like them, but now that he shared a deep friendship and Zac’s own personality had bled on him, he couldn’t unsee the missed opportunity to meet new people. Anyway, he preferred this situation a hundred times more than the previous one with Travaran, so he didn’t complain.

He and Zac arrived at the barracks and Tulluin explained their mission of the day. Now that they were First White and the number of patrols had risen, they were alone during their patrol. Their afternoon patrol’s path led them into deeper parts of the city that they had come to call the cultist area. It was named so because it was there that they had caught most of their members. It was a working-class district with a lot of taverns, brothels and bad reputable places. A lot of city guards were patrolling the area, and they often heard whistle calls during their patrol through the district. Still, a patrol was a patrol, and even in the worst part of the city, it was boring.

“Ash invited us to a party the night before break day.”

“Us or just you?”

Zac threw him an annoyed look.

“She said there would be a lot of musicians and that if you came you could maybe unlock even more songs.”

With the harmonica Zac had bought him, Mahon had spent long evenings playing with his friend. They could train hard for the whole day and they didn’t need to watch their back every minute now, so they could afford calmer evenings. And since most of their roommates were in their own bubbles, playing music was their new favorite evening activity.

Zac knew a lot and since Mahon had rediscovered a passion for the harmonica, it had been added to the long list of subjects Zac had to teach him and Mahon became increasingly better each time he practiced.

“When did you see her, by the way? I thought we were always together.”

“Well, fourteen rounds is still a lot of time. I had to see her because my sitar was behaving strangely.”

“Yes, behaving strangely, sure…”

Zac smiled at Mahon’s taunt, but he didn’t say anything.

“I remembered you told me she wasn’t even looking at you and here you are, fabricating dumb excuses to go see her. What happened?”

“Ah! Good question. At the risk of sounding stupid, I would like to believe it’s you.”

“Me? I saw her like three times and every time she only spoke with you.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I think we’re spending too much time together and sometimes I catch myself acting like you or thinking like you. As strange as it sounds, I think you make me a better me.”

“Wait, wait, wait! Are you saying I’m actually teaching you stuff about relationships?”

Zac laughed as he raised his eyes into the sky.

“No way! You know nothing. It’s just that the way you are is both different and similar enough to mine that I could reflect on it and grow.”

Mahon whistled in amazement. “You’re probably right, you sound much more intelligent than when we first met.”

Zac elbowed him in the ribs and Mahon laughed as he avoided it with grace. Mahon was ready to continue his taunting when, from the corner of his eyes, he saw two silhouettes hiding their faces in a suspicious fashion.

A second after, Zac eyed in the same direction. They knew each other too well not to notice a change of behavior from relaxed to serious. The two robed men threw a glance behind them and when they saw Mahon and Zac looking in their direction, they moved away faster.

The duo turned back and followed them. They had passed by their side just a moment ago, but they hadn’t noticed their suspicious behavior. Maybe Mahon’s whistle and quick dodge had put them on edge and they had reacted brainlessly. The Fada cultists they usually caught were not the smartest type of people.

Mahon and Zac walked through the crowd in the pursuit of the two men. The cultists pushed away innocent citizens in order to move faster, but they actually cleared a way up to them for Mahon and Zac. Half a minute later, the duo had almost caught up to the robed men, but when they were just a few meters away, the cultists decided to go all out and ran to the closest side lane, away from the crowd.

Anticipating their reaction, Mahon wasted no time to run after them, Zac at his side. In the empty alley, the pursuit turned into a mad course that continued into the maze of little streets that formed most of the district. At an intersection, their targets finally got smarter, and both turned in a different direction.

Middle afternoon, normal day. Lots of patrolling guards nearby. Safe from ambush.

Mahon gestured for Zac to follow one as he went in the other direction. Since Tiarsus' death, they had not lost a single man to the cultist and no other ambush had happened. Instead, the Fada cult attacked in the middle of the night innocent citizens or random buildings that they somehow judged impure.

Mahon ran behind his own target, and he enjoyed how his body responded to his thoughts. More than that, his powerfully muscled legs propelled him forward faster than the cultist in front of him. Ratho was his world now, he was no longer a useless crippled. He was strong.

At the bend of a street, the cultist slipped, but he managed to regain his balance and sprinted away. Mahon followed a few seconds after and slipped as well. But he knew it was coming, and he used the bordering wall to convert his inertia into the right direction. He stepped two times on the wall and continued his course after the cultist, a proud smile lingering on his lips.

The move had helped him fill the gap and no more than five meters separated them. Mahon felt satisfied with his new body. Nothing could stop him now. He had adapted to Ratho. The cultist jumped above a wooden fence with some difficulty and suddenly Mahon was just behind him.

He analyzed the fence as he ran towards it and came to the conclusion that given how he would address the hurdle, he might succeed in falling upon the cultist on the other side and end the chase. He visualized the move and prepared himself. It was much harder than the previous one, but Mahon knew he could do it. His body could take the burden, his muscles were strong enough now.

He breathed in and slowly exhaled, focusing entirely on the task ahead. And if a barrier had broken in his mind, he entered the Flow.

He jumped to the side and used a little edge on the left wall to prepare his jump.

Now, on to the hard part.

Mahon twisted his body and stretched his right leg towards the left, aiming at another lump on the wall to jump over the edge.

He was still running at full speed and the impact would be terrible if he failed, but he trusted his muscle to absorb the shock. The Flow helped him to be aware of every little detail, and it was as if the situation had slowed down so he could better concentrate.

His right foot reached the spot he had chosen with incredible precision and in an intense strain, he pushed all his weight up and right over the fence, using only his right leg. His muscles shivered under the stress, but they held up and Mahon jumped.

Aloft, he compensated with his arms for the repulsive force of Nightmare that would prevent him from jumping high enough and soared through the air.

Like a bullet, he passed way over the fence and lost control of his trajectory. He crashed heavily on the other side and as he stood up, stunned, he had just the time to see the cultist escape in a nearby street.

What?!

In the heat of the moment, his mind had reacted on autopilot and he had thought himself in Nightmare. Mahon swore as he brushed away the dust from his clothes and limped back to the barracks where they had agreed to meet back with Zac beforehand. He thought about what had happened, but couldn’t make any sense of it.

I was in the Flow. But it failed somehow.

He replayed the scene in his mind as he tried to chase the frustration from his failure.

That was the Flow. There is no possible mistake. It lasted during the whole move… So it can only be it that provided me with the Nightmare feeling. But it’s the Flow! It can’t be wrong.

Mahon thought about this problem all the way up to the barracks. He really hoped he had done something wrong and didn’t remember correctly. It was a way better alternative than having spent months to reach his goal and break his physical barrier just to realize he had another one in his mind as well.

When he reached the barracks, he saw a smiling Zac handing out a captured cultist to Tulluin and some of the pressure disappeared.

At least I’m not alone.