"It's the buildings." Weston said, "It's the only explanation."

The three of them stood on top of the University looking down to where Hickory fished off an overhang. He laid out on the grass wearing just torn shorts, one foot in the water, his clothes folded to make a pillow for his head, his skin just tan, not bright red, resting in the shade of a tree-

So young.

You couldn't tell - what they'd just done, what...had happened. Weston had been warned, Gage had been preparing him, all those words, all those offhand comments...they'd been warnings. Of course they had...

"Other settlements have buildings, it's not just that." Chase said, "You guys can't see the dueling for what it is. Your Perception isn't high enough."

"What are you talking about." Weston said, looking at him.

"There's layers to it." Chase said, "We have to assume we're just scratching the surface here, alright?"

"Right." Weston nodded, "It's not even been two cycles."

Chase nodded - not two cycles, and already they used the term instead of months -

"So, dueling is like entering the bubbles to fight." Chase said, "But you leave your body behind."

Weston nodded, he knew it wasn't physical.

"You need to practice more." Chase said, "Did you even feel the rest of us in the Arena?"

Weston looked at him.

"It's alright, it took me a while to understand as well, but my guess is we're still missing stats, probably three of them since the others were in groups of three, Perception is what lets you see, one of the Dungeonists recently pointed it out - she is likely incredibly high to be the first to notice."

Weston frowned - he hadn't gotten the impression that any of the Dungeonists were potent...

"Come on, I'll just show you." Chase said leading them through the opening, the University didn't have doors except for the bathrooms and dormitories - none of the structures of Red Hills did, another strangeness compared to Covanger Fields he'd just noticed...and yet sound didn't travel through them, most sound.

The Loom did, not all the time, it depended on who was playing, but - Weston focused as Chase led them into a large room, a Dueling Hall, he called it. It was a single room with a long rectangular stone carved to allow a clear pool of water at waist height.

There was also spectator seating, rows of bleachers that rounded the room and it reminded Weston almost of renderings of Rome, of the debates of the Senate, there was a raised platform for a speaker or announcer, or perhaps just for the duelists to meet before descending down to face off each other along the long trough of water.

Of course there was room the other way, the long way - for two teams to face each other.

"I don't want you to attack or defend, just focus, try to sense me." Chase said, sticking his hand into the water.

Gage and Weston did the same.

Weston felt a 'poke' and couldn't determine where it was coming from, but he could poke back, he felt that intent slapped aside.

"Do you want to learn? Because you're strong but you're awful." Chase said, "I'm trying to get your attention, what's happening is that you're only putting a few of your resources in play, you're fighting with just your animal instincts."

"I'm not trying to." Weston said, "I...am a fucking idiot."

"Right. But it's not how -"

"Am I naked?" Weston asked.

"And flaming." Chase pointed out, causing Gage to try and lunge for him - only to find his hand locked in the water.

"What? You want me to say shimmering?" Chase rolled his eyes, "Focus, it's a projection of your spirit."

Gage still snarled - at Chase were he waited calmly with hand in the water, but Weston was surprised to see Gage hadn't actually made a sound. Gage was literally a dog -

Weston was a being of blood and fire, the fire wrapped the projection he could see in the water - see by looking into it with his mind which was almost the opposite of focusing.

It was like when you let your eyes relax, let them drift apart and blur, that when you stopped looking at something you actually saw what was right in front of you the whole time...

"Holy shit!" Weston said, "Why didn't you tell us?"

Chase bit his lip, "Because when I told you about the dueling room you called me Hairy Pooper for a week."

"That was Hunter!" Weston said, and watched as Gage's projection, a moment before - a fierce, slavering hound, a doberman - now put puppy sized paws over its eyes!

Chase grinned at Gage who didn't seem to realize why, looked around - his copy did the same - a dog hearing a whistle from somewhere.

"If what you say is true about Hickory? And how you beat Jared." Chase shook his head at what went unspoken, "I knew he was strong enough, had I seen a School or College on the way in?"

Weston had to look at Chase, had to look at him again. Because he'd changed so much. He held himself differently...it had been easy to be impressed with his accomplishments, the potions, the school. Easy to see those things.

What was harder was to see was how much he'd changed as a person, because it wasn't his clothes, his lip still held a dip - beef jerky now, most of the time with tobacco so scarce. His improvements were the opposite of Weston's.

Weston had flung himself into the dirt, metaphorically - but not always - rolled in cow shit in order to become one with his land, to understand his herd, to be a Man. Chase was the opposite. Chase had to climb up out of the dirt - a ladder of knowledge to reach new heights and they'd mocked him the entire time?

Weston saw his avatar in the water - it was almost him. All blue. He was completely naked, almost no flame with the realization, a shamefully small crown. Blood still tied him together, a spiderwebbing of veins -

'Covangers don't apologize.'

Weston's mouth was open - to apologize to Chase sincerely, and he understood another saying. A Covanger doesn't apologize because they shouldn't have to, they should do everything to avoid needing to apologize in the first place...

He could do that, he could be a better friend, he could be - Chase was staring at his avatar, well, his eyes were unfocused but he was leaning forward, over the water and - Weston's Avatar was naked, it was just a blue copy of him, his 'blood' - veins like a red map across his skin, and with the flames out? But certainly he wasn't -

"Oh, shit. That's fascinating, I've never seen somebody else's growing..."

Gage was trying to unfocus his eyes, still hadn't seen. The dog was running around in circles, chasing it's tail -

Weston's Avatar just stood there - it's posture proud and, well - some flames returned, certainly there was a lot to be proud of, but - even with that log alight, Chase hadn't stopped focusing, took a deep breath.

"So that was what I was going to teach you next. How to reinforce the Spirit, but you already know, I'd assumed you'd been doing it naturally, but..."

Weston was about to ask what Chase was talking about but it was obvious, wasn't it? As he looked again at his Avatar it was clearer - stronger?

"There was a time when schools taught Philosophy." Chase was looking away now, "It got real complicated real quick, but most of it came back to understanding ourselves. What makes us...us?"

Gage seemed to have caught on - was staring at the pool now with a more relaxed expression, of course it would be hard for him. Weston assumed Gage had a high Perception as well, that hadn't been the problem.

But for Gage to relax? To lower the mental barriers needed to see - himself?

"This spirit, this reflection in the water? It's a reflection of ourselves. The Dungeonists call it Mirror Systems..."

Weston realized that Chase's Avatar hadn't been visible yet -

"We're only scraping the surface, but...to understand your power, you have to understand yourself. It's not everything - you can be strong and ignorant, you can be fierce and also mistaken."

Weston watched Chase's eyes briefly take in the dog that had wandered over to Weston, that now experimentally sniffed his hand. Weston felt the cold nose much in the same way he felt Chase's poke earlier...

"We're strong, incredibly strong and also..." Chase shook his head, "We're so incredibly weak, we're like...the first fish to crawl from the ocean onto land, to fill this new niche, there isn't any competition yet."

Weston watched as the water rippled. Felt the flames of his projection flicker - Gage's ears perked up, and Weston realized his hand had protectively gone to the neck, that Gage had also edged closer - looking out -

"But there will be."

The rippling water of the trough didn't still, it smoothed - because of the surge, and from the water arose what Weston had just begun to truly glimpse, to consider - all those changes in Chase -

Not an educated man...

An Educating Man - the Professor.

Chase's Avatar rose from the water like the University had - just as magnificent, just as wondrous, made of clear glass. His head was bald, his eyes filled with a thousand colors, a thousand ingredients, and orbs circled him like electrons, glowing and bubbling - Potions.

He wore clothes that hung loose like dark draped robes, smooth in their simplicity, the only adornment a coach's whistle around his neck, the sides each sporting the Red Hill's Flag, he continued to rise from the water until just his shoes rested on the surface - Boots.

A bat - this one made of wood slung over his shoulder, a denim strap revealed a familiar sheath.

Dirty boots peeked out beneath his robes. On purpose? It mattered?

Everything matters -

Weston felt his awe, felt how impressed he was - how ignorant and how lucky, to have such friends, to live in this time -

He breathed, and then from the water a flame began to burn - a circle, like Stonehenge, a monument to himself, what he stood for - that's what this was? Our spirit made manifest. Weston's blue crown crested next, his eyes cold stones, crudely cracked diamonds, his lips smirked in satisfaction.

His chest, not the smoothly shaved surface of before the breaking now curled with firelight, and beneath it all - beating, entreating - Blood.

A network of veins like branches, a forest aflame that carried the fire across his surface, his body - that fed it.

"Bro - you know, you can put some pants on?" Chase said, "I mean, it's normal at first but if you've got enough will to reinforce, it takes like - a tenth of a memory point for some shorts?"

Gage snickered, bit his lip.

"I mean it's good to be proud, but - " Chase's Avatar, the Professor - pulled out his bat, Weston watched as the wood grew like a tree, becoming larger - wider, then flattened out into a tennis racket -

Of course you could control - May's shirt adorned him, and he felt the flicker, it was like trying not to be distracted. Like hearing the TV on in a room nearby, it was low enough that it wouldn't bother you, but you knew if it got much louder?

Pants, just faded jeans, his work boots - then he tried changing it, tried doing a full suit of armor - completely different.

"The closer it is to your everyday, the easier." Chase said, grinning, "It's just flavor for the most part, just decoration right now...mostly."

Chase swung his bat, now normal again, and the blue orb circling him careened off smashing into Weston and splashing over him, and was he stronger? Then Chase swung again, the purple orb that careened at Weston, spinning -

Fish scales appeared over Weston, just like before, his shirt - his body covered in them. He looked ridiculous! Awful, he'd always imagined it looking cool, but the reality was he looked like a mutant!

Gage barked laughter, and his dog that rose from the surface joined, and he didn't look at it with surprise. Didn't change it - why was his so different? An animal? A dog, and yet...

"We're scraping the surface of everything, it's easier here." Chase explained, "The School? It didn't allow all this, that's the kiddie pool, its just teaching you how to focus it, how you likely fought before?"

Weston nodded.

"The College, it got better, we could see our Avatars if you knew how to look, and this is - well I guess the olympics?" Chase said looking over, "I just figured out how to go above the water, and only because of the seating."

Weston glanced around, of course. Why have spectator seating when you couldn't see into the water, but his mind was more concerned with -

"So the Font is the ocean?"

Chase nodded.

"We can't hurt each other in any of the practice pools, but the Font is different, and this is all just visualization, it's not actually real, not yet - it's the facility that does it."

"What do you mean not yet?"

Chase looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Weston, what do you think the fire is? What do you think Hickory's sword is? His shield?"

"Spirit."

"It's how you manifest it, it's just how we do it naturally, like dummies. Gage is right to say it's a trigger, but it's only because we're still learning, it's just what makes the most sense for us right now. Simple.

"It's no different from breathing, we just assume - Bravery? That's a sword, that's easy...Honesty? Sure, a shield."

Weston looked as Chase's bat changed, again - a sword. A shield.

"It's the parts we understand about ourselves, it's what we feel, but it's just a hint, a way to access the actual powers we have inside."

Then Weston watched as Chase in the flesh - not his Avatar - reached behind himself and grabbed a bat, one that hadn't been there a moment before. It was flickering, insubstantial, and his face was taunt in concentration.

"There's really just the One Power." Weston watched as the bat strobed white, the color of Hickory's sword - then burst with blue flame, "It's how we use it, how we apply it. How we practice and understand it."

He sagged, braced himself on the rim of the dueling pool, reached to his belt and took a swig from a wood bottle, breathed.

Weston had forgot to - remembered suddenly, he inhaled.

They'd truly only scratched the surface, not even a scratch! A smudge! Chase had figured all this out in just days? Because of the University? Because...

"The Book does give stats, you're right to notice, and it's obvious. He's done twelve lessons at the school and started out...behind. Far behind." Chase said shaking his head, "We've fought almost as much as he has, and Weston, you've noticed changes with Pierson as well. But the Book is not the only thing that makes him strong, it's not enough by itself."

Weston nodded, of course that was true or he'd never of beaten Jared, but he hadn't really? That had been Hickory, too.

Chase began leading them, he walked so casually, so easily, boots sounding, and yet? Weston could imagine the sound of those robes, the soft rattle of his whistle. Trappings of power, now how could he forget?

"The pools are training, not to practice battling for the Font, like we assumed, that's just the most obvious use of our spirit. At this level. The pools work as much like a magnifying glass as a mirror, it lets you see your power, zoom in on it, project it. Refine it...but it doesn't really quantify it, it doesn't actually show you efficacy."

Weston's mind was awash as he followed Chase back to the overhang they'd been at earlier, back to where they had observed Hickory. He hadn't moved, his fishing pole still minded, his other foot now dangled in the water. Still completely at peace.

Relaxed.

Chase looked down at him - looked down with the same expression he'd worn when he'd observed Weston 'reinforcing' his Avatar. Curious wonder, intrigue. And Weston recalled the half of conversation that led up to this -

"You think he's powerful because he fishes?" It splashed right out of his mouth because he was so impressed with Chase a moment ago, how much he'd learned...and it was such a ridiculous leap from logic.

"I think he's powerful because he meditates." Chase said, "He's a machine. All he does is fights and fishes, his mind at rest, he understands himself, he was never confused by society, never tried to fit in, or be something he wasn't, which isn't to say...add that with the Book?"

"Books." Gage said.

"Books." Chase acknowledged, "Now we can test it, equip the different Books, try to make sense of how the structures impact each stat, but it's probably pretty obvious, and really it won't matter."

"Why not?"

"For the same reason taking two potions doesn't work. You can't just build a thousand colleges and become a genius, it doesn't stack, or all those military towers could have been a lot more dangerous on the Font side of things."

Of course that wasn't what Weston was really thinking about, what he was thinking about was Pierson. If what they had intuited was true then he'd made more than a Prince, hadn't he?

More than a puppet, he'd made a powerhouse. And his family was feeding him, growing Covanger Fields...wastefully growing at times, what did a road do? A fancy road? What did a park bench add to a person's power, certainly not that much...

"What do you think the other stats are?" Weston asked, "Besides Perception."

"Oh." Chase paused, "Probably Recovery and Resilience. We haven't unlocked any sort of medical facility yet, and all those would have to do with that. We heal faster, we know that, or don't get injured at all..."

"Nobody has died of natural causes." Weston said, "Nobody that has Drank."

Chase nodded. Frowned. Shrugged. Nodded again.

"Probably why nobody cares enough to unlock a healing facility."

They looked down - at Hickory, still quietly fishing. Earlier, they'd been fighting. Inflicting non-natural causes, those men. They knew who blew up the dam, suspected one of two Fonts, and they'd approached both, Hickory had asked them.

They'd welcomed him! Celebrated, not the dam, but the fall of the Commander, the Army, learning that Hickory had no intention of vassalizing them, forcing them to 'join the military' work -

It was another Blue Font, a bunch of fishing structures, fish farms, 'Oyster Farms' where they clung to poles underwater like grapes on a vine - that's how they'd blown the damn, scuba gear...

Not the actual dam of course, the levy itself, the dam had walls up - couldn't get through, they'd dug, had only intended to do the same at first, to bleed it out - even if it cost one of their lives...

Just slowly dig a hole through it. You couldn't use the Book on somebody else's territory...they'd tried using the scrap pool - it only swallowed so much water, then turned red - then stopped until it could process it. They'd built four of them...didn't have enough points to run sewer pipe all the way...

'Thank you! Thank you so much, you saved us!'

They'd all been in on it. It was a...small town, a marina. Houseboats - retirees, vacationers when it happened, good people in Weston's mind. Good people put in a very bad situation, and they'd done their best.

They'd tried diplomacy, and even given food in the beginning, supported the military. Red-blooded Americans? Of course they did, of course...they refused to be Vassals though, refused to give a percentage of their Font points, to work every day to give food, to follow orders - they were retired! Not slaves!

It was a free country!

Demands. Many had moved, fled - to other Fonts, away. Some hadn't, some stayed. Some made a plan...

Scuba gear. A shovel. Patience. Taking turns. Frustration. A bomb, they weren't hard to make, just fertilizer, really - a big pot. Duck Tape. A flare burns underwater, no, Weston hadn't known that...

Hickory spared the women and children. There'd only been twelve children, and - he Razed the Font. Wrote out contracts to give the survivors marbles for all the points that would come from it paid from his account, he'd be poor for a while...

He explained to them.

'I reckon it was a necessary thing for you to do, blowing that dam up, that you did what you had for your kin and buddies and it'd be wrong for me to hold that against you.'

They had! They had! And it was terrible - they'd wished there was a better way!

Hickory had nodded, of course. He also wanted a better way, but he killed the Men, and Weston had seen, so quick - it had been just like the Font battle, just like Chase had said - but not. Not in the water. That same power -

Hickory's sword? His shield? Those slivers of power, it had just been the part he'd been choosing to manifest. He didn't need anything more, not for dealing with the shadows, the monsters, he didn't need -

The Trophy?

Pyramid of Regret. Heads, stacked like firewood, solemn faces frozen in that brief moment of realization.

Buried regrets, now - they bury their enemies, don't they? Covangers. Ruthless. His family - his whole family.

Just a Font, soon. Just a small fountain, hardly a trickle. No members, not after being conquered, no structures once they melted away. Ten days, then - a lone memorial.

How did that make Weston feel? Because he should have been scared, he thought. Because of Hickory, and yet? If Hickory was that strong, wasn't others? Wasn't there people out there right now like Jared? Growing stronger...

Didn't Hickory also know that, knew how strong he was, it scared him. Weston had always assumed it'd scared him because he didn't know what to do with the power, but...

Scared of what he'd have to do with the power?

They walked down to the lake, down to join Hickory next to the water, beneath the shade - they fished, they swam. It was a good day. Beautiful. Not a cloud in the sky. Not a worry.

Weston should have been afraid, if it had been anybody else? If it had been himself - but Hickory?

He felt safe. Felt...protected. Sitting in the shade, a fishing pole, a buddy, family. Could he have done it? He didn't have to, didn't even have to think about it, didn't have to lift a finger -

That's how quick it had been.

The gallows hadn't been necessary after all - or maybe they were, in a way, maybe they added something? Had the Loom given Hickory rhythm? Was that how he'd learned to dance so quickly?

Was it more than stats, was it Skills? Abilities? Was it - tempting. To have a Book, now? More tempting...it'd been all responsibility before, all headache, what now?

What now?

And this was all just the beginning, not even a scratch on the surface, just a smudge - Two Cycles. Three paths of power - meditation, monsters, and the Font.

Hickory, a person that excelled at all three. Balanced all three.

Weston?

He was still working on being a better buddy, that was important. So very important - so much depended on it, the idea - of losing that friendship, that safety, that shade?

That wasn't tempting, that was terrifying. That was inconceivable. That was -

May would play the piano at the Ball, the orchestra - that reconstructed school band could play back up. Tackle would be the guest of honor. Maybe a carriage for Mama Fontess?

Gage...Weston would leave it up to him. You didn't have to worry - when you were safe, when you knew what was important. Family. Sometimes you could have it all. When there was somebody strong enough?

Grandmother could teach him how to cook. If he wanted to learn - if he didn't.

Weston didn't know Gage's last name...did they need them? Weston of Red Hills. That's what the Chief had called him, that had been simple.

Just Weston. Could he be proud of that?

Fishing.

Meditating.

Quiet.

Laughter - splashing, buddies. And more than that. Gage was more then a hand, more then a right hand, more then a dog - unless that was what he wanted? Hopefully he wanted more, if Weston was good enough?

Could deserve that. Was worthy?

He could ask. He would...

Pride. It never was, was it? It's why it distorted his vision, turned it blue? Changed the way he saw the world, it never was pride...

Such a silly book, May loved that book. Still did -

Weston felt the fire burn away. That power. That weakness? A crutch, that's what it was. Was.

Now he owned it. Would not be ruled by it. Understood it. Understood himself. Didn't need to hold up his hand to test, to verify - didn't need to look in a mirror. Didn't need a crown - a trigger.

That power was wholly his, could never be broken. Never taken - there was room for another bullet in that chamber, room for another power. Maybe a better one?

Love? Happiness? Kindness? Maybe Lust - like May, that could be fun, to explore, to conquer, to own - that could be...exhausting? There was so much room! In his mind, without that stone, his head felt so much lighter, so much clearer without a crown choking every thought!

Weston laid back. In the shade. Foot in the water. Fishing pole. Learning from Hickory - becoming more powerful, understanding...new sayings? New chapters? New books?

'He who rules himself rules the world.' - Weston, Just