Marie drives on a dirt road with Nunnalé leading to the mine assailant. Ovan and his brethren are behind, driving an off-road vehicle. We left as soon as possible to track down this murderer. Just a mile away, I can see a village. Hopefully, he hasn’t taken any more lives.

“We are closing in. I sense a stronger presence of Source! Master Richard, your orders!?”

“Marie, do you mind if we go on ahead?”

“I don’t mind, just be careful. If you have to, run!”

“Got it. Let’s go, Nunnalé!”

“Understood!”

Nunnalé picks me up from the sidecar, jumping off the bike. She lands without making so much as a peep. For a minute there, it looked like we were going to kiss the dirt. “Master Richard, I am going to accelerate in speed.”

“Okay, just let me–”

Not getting enough time to speak, she jets off, running past Marie, who wasn’t too far ahead. She’s covering meters of land within seconds, moving faster than Marie’s bike, which clocks at 60 mph. This would be awesome if it weren’t puke-inducing, plus, this isn’t doing wonders for my head. 3 minutes pass, we finally stop moving. Seems like we ended up in the middle of this rural village, well, it’s akin to a ghost town if anything else. A boy, who doesn’t appear to be any older than me, points a sword at someone’s throat.

“Nunnalé, stop him!”

“Understood!”

She summons her sword, throwing it at the boy. Metal clashing against another rings throughout this ghost town. He just blocked her attack!? The victim seizes an opportunity to run away as fast as he can to safety.

Nunnalé calls back her sword before our opponent can touch it. “Master Richard, this is the Source-user we have been following.”

This is him? He’s less threatening than I imagined. Still, this person is a murderer, so I can’t get ahead of myself.

“You two have Source. How odd, yours is…” A shiver suddenly runs down my spine. Tearing through my body like a stream of cold water. “Can I kill you?”

W-what…this pressure!? It’s as if someone is pushing rusty nails into my body all at once, stabbing me from all over. I fought killers before, so why does it feel like he’s in a league of his own!?

“N–”

It’s no good! I can’t call her name, this murderous pressure is too much!

“He is releasing his killing intent through his Source. Do not drop your guard!”

How is that even possible?

“Oh, what a delight. You two have such strong Source, quite the quantity you’re able to use. Let me see if you can use it to the best of its extent.”

Lowering his sword to his side, he leans forward. Before I know it, he disappears. Nunnalé swings her sword, blocking our enemy from advancing any further. The air roars howls, forcefully pushing me back.

“Impressive, you were able to react to that.”

He manages to push Nunnalé back, keeping to his offensive approach. While he unleashes a barrage of slashes, she puts up an unyielding defense, blocking each of his strikes. Nunnalé parries a blow. It makes a small opening in his defense. Nunnalé is quick to follow up with a decisive blow.

He has no options to block, his sword isn’t going to be able to ver hers off course. She’s got this! But, as if he were laughing at my optimism, the boy uses his hand to intercept the attack. Blood trickles from his palm yet his battle-crazed demeanor never breaks.

Nunnalé jumps back, edging closer to me.

“Nunnalé, you okay!?”

“Yes, but…”

“Not bad, but your Source, the flow is…artificial. Ah, you must be a doll?”

He knows what a doll is!? Dolls aren’t widely known from what I’ve learned, especially someone like Quincy, who is more than knowledgeable about this world. This boy is an anomaly, especially since he’s able to use Source. More importantly, he said something about flow, he must’ve read Nunnalé’s Source.

“You, boy,” he points to me. “...she is a doll, correct?”

No point in lying, might as well humor him

“She is, but did you read her Source?”

“Of course, can you not?” I avert my gaze. “Wait, you can’t!?”

As humiliating as it is, I never got to that part in my training with teacher. We sacrificed learning to detect Source to correct my flow and to learn to use enhancement, and make my healing more efficient.

Mocking me with that sickening grin, he starts laughing at me. His laugh is vexing from finding amusement in my answer. “Are you daft, or are you an amateur?” He ceases speaking to keep on with that annoying laugh. “Perhaps you were self-taught? If so, then may I teach you something?”

“I don’t need your–”

H…huh? The sound of flesh being punctured resonates from my chest, growing increasingly hotter… There’s a sword in my chest!

“Lesson 1: you should always keep your Source sharp at all times.” He’s in front of me, staring into my eyes with ones that lack any life in them but have an intensity to that. “...You fail.”

Jump back, jump back!

“You were able to move? I aimed my intent at you and yet you still moved. Impressive.” Barely. I had to force my legs to move back! Any more of that and I would’ve died from the pressure! “Boy…”

Crashing right into him, Nunnalé pushes him away from me, using her body as a wrecking ball. He smashes into a small wooden house.

“Master Richard, are you okay!?”

I felt killing intent before but that was of a different magnitude. It’s as if he’s stabbing me from afar, knawing at my will to fight.

“Master Richard, here he comes!”

Our enemy walks out of the wreckage, cracking the bone in his neck as he plays around with his sword. “This is no good, this body is starting to lose its luster…” She must’ve weakened him for him to say that. If we rush in now, we can probably end this. “You two are no good.”

“What does that mean?”

He doesn’t respond, he just looks around, like he’s looking for something.

“Nunnalé, Richard!” Marie’s voice carries from the other side of the village, about a good 80 yards. “...Is that the killer?”

A crooked, inhuman smile creeps onto his face at the sight of Marie. “Her… She’s perfect!”

He suddenly jets off, giving me no time to comprehend the situation. Oh god, he’s going for Marie!

I enhance the one leg I can and move. This is no good, he’s too fast for me to keep up with. At this rate, I’m not going to catch up to him! I need to tell her to run!

“Marie, run away!”

No good, she’ll get killed at this rate. Please, please let me catch up!

“Oh, please…” Marie pivots, swiping the blade of her spear against the assailant’s chest. Blood erupts from his chest. The cut seems to be deep since he’s bleeding at an alarming rate. “...Don’t worry about me, I’m used to this.”

Our enemy stands up, worsening the rate of blood leaking out of his wound. “That strike was superb, lacking hesitation, meant to kill”

“Duh, so stay down.”

“Delightful… You are the one.” He lifts his sword, getting ready for a fight. “Now, fight–”

Marie’s spear darts for the boy’s chest. Her blade rips through his flesh, sticking out the other end. “You talk too much.”

It’s over, no prolonged fight, no battle for survival, just one conclusive blow. When it comes to battle Marie doesn’t waste her time, she’s a more decisive fighter. It’s true that we don’t kill the bandits, but with Marie, I noticed she has trouble following that instruction, as if she could slip up and slice a bandit in two at any moment. This is all conjecture, however, when I compare her to how Proxy fights, I don’t think I’m too far off.

“Marie is your name, correct?”

“Are those your last words?”

“Of course not. You’ll be seeing me very soon.”

“Sure, whatever you say.”

She uses her foot to slip her blade out of his chest, effectively killing the boy. I can’t stomach to look at this. Marie wasn’t wrong to preserve her life, and it didn’t seem like he was going to give up so easily. But even so, I can’t stomach it.

“Sorry for the mess. Just keep your eyes away from here.”

“I know, but I was worried about you. For a moment there, I thought he was going to kill you.”

“I don’t know much about this Source stuff, but even a regular spear is more than enough to handle people that, right?”

What a roundabout way of putting it, but correct nonetheless.

“Master Richard, why did you charge in? You should have sent me!”Nunnalé glares at me, her eyes brimming with anger. “...You could have been gravely injured if he had targeted you instead!”

I probably wouldn’t be able to intercept him since he was faster, so she’s not wrong.

“Sorry, I just panicked when I saw him moving towards Marie.”

“I am capable of understanding your reason, even so, it does not excuse your course of action.”

“Yes.”

“...Furthermore, you spared me no Source to pursue you. This is a problem that must not appear in the future.”

“Yes.”

“Also…!”

Why am I the one being scolded? I get that rushing off on my own was pretty reckless, considering I wouldn’t be able to do anything, but is this really necessary?

“Nunnalé, it’s okay, we’re both safe, so go easy on him,” Marie says, patting her on the head.

“I am afraid I cannot. Master Richard is far too reckless. It is my duty to protect him, that comes with the responsibility of criticizing him when need be.”

She’s ruthless!

“A-anyway, what do we do about the body?”

Marie shoots a disinterested glance at him. “Guess we’ll bury him, wouldn’t want the villagers to be inconvenienced by it.”

Speaking of villagers, a couple of them with farm tools rush over to us.

“Who are you people!?” an elderly man demands.

“Are you people trying to attack us?” another villager asks.

“No, it was not them. It’s that boy, on the floor.”

Their anger turns to horror seeing that boy dead on the ground.

“Did these people kill him?”

Ugh, I sense their disgust, it’s like having someone vomit into my mouth.

“They didn’t, I did. He was going to kill me if I didn’t.” Marie holsters her spear on her back. She picks up the boy. Sparing a glance at the sword, she tilts her head. "Eh, one more sword wouldn't be so bad."

She reaches for the sword, it gleams despite the clouds obscuring the sun. It gives off an alluring presence, kinda creepy though.

"Hang on, a Source-user used that. Maybe it's not safe," I warn her.

"I do not sense anything from the sword, so it’s unlikely that it’s a Mystica. Furthermore, if it were a Manifestation or a conjuration, it would lose its physical form, evaporating into nothingness."

A Manifestation. Teacher only taught me the basics of it but it's a conjured item that differs from just creating something, one that has special properties compared to just creating something with your Source.

To explain it better, there are four main areas for Conjurer: Raw creation, Material creation, alteration, then, there’s manifestation. Material creation is self-explanatory, Raw is creating a glass-like image of an item or being, that’s how teacher put it. Alteration is just changing the composition of an item, object, or even person. Then, we have manifestation, which can take on a solid form that holds special capabilities.

In short:

Raw creation: making glass-like items.

Material creation: using materials to create an item.

Alteration: to convert the properties of something.

Manifestation: A special object created with unique properties.

“So it’s like your sword, Nunnalé?” Marie asks.

“My sword’s deployment is different from that of a Manifestation.”

Marie tilts her head, raising a single eyebrow as she loses track of the explanation. “Huh?”

“I am unable to speak specifically on how I call forth my blade, however, it is safe to say that it is a Mystica, that much I am certain of.”

Marie’s head tilts even further. “What?”

“Nothing,” Nunnalé and I tell her.

“Whatever, my brain probably doesn’t even need to know, let’s just hurry back to camp.”

As we follow behind Marie, some of the villagers whisper behind our backs.

“She killed such a young boy.”

“How horrific.”

“Why does such violence need to occur?”

What else was she supposed to do; let him kill her? I don’t want anyone to die, but with how our opponent was, he wasn’t just going to give up. And their words are brimming with revulsion, acting as if she’s a monster or something.

“It’s okay, Marie. You don’t need to–”

“I know.”

Her words…there’s an intense hatred, the mere touch can burn away all of my flesh.

“Master Richard, is something the matter?”

“No, I’m okay…”

Just now, Marie’s words were filled with nothing but hatred, and another awful, yet distinct, powerful emotion. I feel nauseous even thinking about it. This is disturbing, far too disturbing for just anger. Whatever it is, it’s not good, that’s for certain.

Campsite - evening

After our battle with that killer, Ovan and his brethren came back to camp with us, wishing to speak to Alexander about something. Marie was quick to return to leave Nunnalé and me, heading off to be by herself. We’re camping out on a gray plain, dead trees along the road next to us. Since we’ll be leaving tomorrow, we didn’t bother to make camp.

Proxy is still recovering from his fight with Walter. His legs are almost done recovering thanks to Crow’s medical massages and my healing, even if it’s not as effective. I’ve been keeping him company since he’s not able to move on his own but he’s the same rambunctious person as usual. Though, the way he described the fight was less than descriptive.

Nunnalé sits next to me while I’m reading the journal that we found in the underground town. Quincy gave it to me after he got done with it. He said he thoroughly examined it, saying it held no clues as to what happened to the creators of the town or to the person who wrote inside the journal, and nothing about Nunnalé, or about that father that was mentioned in the journal. However, I have noticed rather than days, it goes by in random entries. Furthermore, most of the entries just speak about the production rate of dolls, saying how low-quality they are.

“Master Richard, I believe there is no reason to examine that book. The information inside is worthless.”

“I know, but maybe there’s something we missed?”

“Unlikely, Quincy has thoroughly examined the book, providing nothing of significance .”

She’s not wrong, however, if there is something of worth in here, then I want to pick up on that.

“Excellent work in the field, Richard.” Alexander approaches us from the campfire. He takes on a somber expression. “...I had heard what happened to the people of the mine from Marie. I am regretful that you both had to see such a terrifying sight.”

“It does not inhibit me, however, my Master--”

“Um, ah, nothing, it’s nothing! I’m fine, really, I am!”

That was too close! A second later and she would’ve told him I vomited.

“You say you are fine but I heard you expelled the contents of your stomach. Are you feeling unwell?” Why…why did you have to tell him that, Marie? “If you need rest, tell me.”

“That’s okay, I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

“Do not mention it… But may I ask something of you?”

“What is it?”

“How is Marie? Have you noticed her acting peculiar?”

“Umm, not that I’ve noticed, no.”

Though, there was this afternoon, I don’t think I want to bring that up, after all, it was probably because of the people of that village.

“She has been displaying odd behavior .”

“How so?”

“As of now, she is excluding herself from camp. She feigns sickness.”

“I don’t see how that’s out of the ordinary?”

“To others, yes, quite ordinary, yet she would tell me if she were, and then, she would let me check her forehead.” It’s still not that odd, albeit, I can’t shake the notion that she’s acting weird. Though, there’s nothing concrete to prove that to be the case. “...Perhaps I am acting paranoid. I apologize for wasting your time. I shall excuse myself.”

He gets up from the ground, doing a quick bow, then leaving back to the campfire.

“You are concerned for Marie,” Nunnalé says.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Based on what I observed from you, the face you are making now is the one you make when you are expressing concern.”

“Wow, you’re able to read me like that?”

“I mean no insult, however, it is quite easy to do so. The areas that signal this expression are your lowered eyebrows, when you slightly squint your eyes, and when you press your lips together.”

“Amazing, I didn’t even know that.”

“Whether it is your mental, physical, or emotional state, I must observe them all to satisfy your needs and to protect you.”

Amazing, if she’s able to decipher that much then no wonder she was able to pick on how the people in the mine were murdered. If she weren’t able to see Source, he would’ve gotten away. That’s also another problem: I can’t see Source, hell, I can’t even see my own. I can feel it and I know where it’s all accumulated at all times, as well as how I’m using it, but I can’t see it.

“Nunnalé, can you see our Source?”

“I am able, yes.”

“Then, can you teach me!?”

“Then I must apologize for my incompetence, I am unable to do so.”

“Why not?”

“I believe I told you this before, my abilities are second-nature to me. It’s not a process that causes this, it’s as if flexing one’s arm. I simply perform it.”

That doesn’t help at all. For me, using enhancement or healing is like flipping on different switches for different appliances. It’s not hard to do, but I still need to think about it.

“Don’t apologize, I feel like Teacher and I should’ve gotten me to see Source.”

“Her teaching you to use your Source for supportive and defensive means was correct. I also believe you should focus on being able to enhance more than one limb before anything else.”

“You’re right. Lately, I’ve been getting there, thanks to Zell.”

“Excellent. I shall give my thanks to Zell.”

“We both should.”

I’m one step closer to doing it, however, I can’t seem to get it to stabilize whenever I spread it to another limb. So close yet another step behind. Nothing has ever challenged me as much as Source has. I suppose that it’s frustrating while being oddly satisfying to master. Still, I can’t waste time getting stumped, I need to keep getting better at it.

…

Gentle, let it flow around my body like a river passing through a mountain, calm, steady, ever so moving… Now, limit this flow to your arms… Crap! My concentration breaks, the calm stream bursts into a geyser. I naturally correct my flow.

“What do I keep saying to you?” Zell, who is watching me, asks.

“Sorry!”

“It’s fine. Let’s call it a day. Any more and you’ll keel over. Plus, it’s almost bedtime.”

“You’re right, sorry for taking up your time, Zell.”

“It is fine, just learn to moderate yourself.” Moderate myself. Never thought someone would have to tell me that. “...From what I can tell, you seem to be much better at this Source than I am.”

“Sorry, but I can’t agree. I’m still an amateur, and even then, I’m–”

“Stop. You said you picked up healing within the same month you learned of Source, correct?”

“Well, teacher gave me a history book to learn from. Basing my information from that, I learned how to heal. Though, my abilities were extremely gimped.”

“That’s still impressive. It took me about 4 months to get my powers to work. Even then, I still had trouble using it.”

“Oh, then it must frustrate you to see me acting clueless like this?”

“Not really, I think it’s fine to be a bit clueless on stuff like this. Everyone grows differently from one another. How we learned to control our Source is evidence of that.”

He isn’t wrong, teacher taught me that Source-users grow differently from one another based on their knack for it, or in other words, their talent. This can also differ between members of the same family, especially siblings. Speaking off…

“Can Zeal use Source?”

“No. His aptitude is quite low, however, he does have an ability that makes up for that. Whenever he accumulates damage, he turns that into power, making him stronger than he normally is. Of course, the drawback is that he becomes incredibly weak after using it.”

“You don’t like when he uses it, do you?”

“Did you read my words?”

“Sorry, I sensed your anxiety around the ‘damage’ part.”

He shrugs his shoulder while expressing a light smile. “It’s fine. He lets himself get injured a bit too much at times just to gain that power up, so I try to keep him from using it by healing his wounds. The thought of him throwing himself into harm's way…frightens me.” A dry chuckle leaves his mouth. “I must come off as a worry-wort?”

“A bit, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Brothers should be worried for the other when they need to be?”

He silently nods, appearing pleased with my answer. “If I weren’t concerned, then who would be for him?” He picks up his jacket from a tree branch. “Now, lets’ get some sleep.”

“Of course, lead the way.”

“Who would be worried for him”. I wonder if mine worries about me? Do I even worry about him? I don’t even know if I should be worried about him.

…

Drifting, I’m drifting, without a body, only my mind drifts through this dark, yet alluring void. It draws me deeper and deeper, lifting my sense of security. Why am I here, what brought me here, and what will happen to me means little. The breath of this void wraps itself around me, alerting me to a presence inside here.

“Sla–r…” Its voice is cold, lacking any humanity, but it has a certain allure to it. “...Slaughter all of them, including–”

A yell erupts from my lungs, I wake up in a cold sweat. I search around for anyone hiding in the trees around me… I’m alone, good, that’s good. Just a second ago, I was sleeping up against a tree, one that’s been scarred by blades, barely clinging to life.

The sword I took earlier is still attached to my belt. It being there makes me feel safer already. Earlier, I was going to add it to our armory, but I decided to keep it. It's not like we’re desperate for weapons, and if we do, then we can just snatch some from the bandits.

But what was that dream? Was it a dream, it felt so real. Maybe it wasn’t… Yeah right, that’s so stupid, even Proxy couldn’t come up with something like that. Screw it, I’m going back to sleep. If I have another dream, then it better be a damn good one.