The Progenitors called it Psionics, the power they used to become rulers of all that was known, the power that allowed them to become as gods. The details of these powers had been long lost to history, but it was said that the Progenitors could easily vanquish an entire civilization with a blind of an eye, move from one end of known civilization to another in a single bound, and had made themselves incapable of dying, amongst the many legends told by the elves. Unfortunately, the truth of these myths is difficult to discern as much of the Progenitors' history was long lost to the annals of time. Still, while the Progenitors and their history had been erased, traces of their legacy remain.

The truth was, humans were the descendants of the Progenitors. Within their blood lies the latent potential for Psionics. However, having suppressed their own Psionic powers in order deceive the eyes of the relentless Goddess Remigia and escape her massacre, the Progenitors made sure that there would never again be a Psion born into the world, lest they draw the wrath of Remigia. Even so, with the passage of time, the Progenitors' influence had weakened and once more, Psions gradually began to resurface in sparse numbers.

A telling sign of being a Psion is the rejection of Ether, the supposed remains of Goddess Remigia. Perhaps due to the Progenitors' waning yet still present influence, a Psion subconsciously rejects Ether and suppresses all Ether activity within their bodies. This means that the Psion cannot wield any abilities that rely on Ether and their bodies heal slower than that of a non-Psion.

Despite being Psions, most do not manifest any abilities at all during their lifetime. Those that do usually wound up with abilities too weak to be of any practical use. It would seem that for now, the fate of the Psions remains as the Progenitors had intended, to quietly fade away as a mere distant memory.

***

"I think that about covers it all," said Joseph, getting up and stretched his fingers before renewing his efforts of treating Auguste's injury.

Morganna stared at Joseph, looking at him as one would a raving beggar on the streets. The story about the Progenitors and the Psions all sounded like some kind of fairy tale made up on the spot. To begin with, if most of the Progenitors' history had been erased, how did Joseph know so much detail about the Psions, if they even existed in the first place? At the very least, none of the books she had read ever made mention of anyone similar to them, and never once on her journey thus far had she heard even a whisper of the likes of Psions. The only one she could even use as a reference was Auguste, and he certainly had not displayed any strange abilities, however slight. The only thing strange about him was how unaffected he was by Ether, and that was about it.

Admittedly, it might be due to Morganna's own inexperience and ignorance that it all sounded like nonsense, but with no way to confirm Joseph's words at the moment, she could only rely on her limited knowledge and treat it as nonsense.

I'll have to ask Gladiolus later, Morganna thought to herself, since he's an Alva, perhaps he might know more about the Progenitors.

"So you're saying that I'm a Psion?" Auguste spoke out as Joseph began healing him. Unlike the skeptical Morganna, he was more taken to the idea. Perhaps it's due to his lack of knowledge in magic that he tended to take these talks at face value.

"I'm rather certain. In this world ruled by Ether, about the only ones who could mount any semblance of resistance are those bearing the Progenitors' legacy."

"But is it of any use though, the Psionics."

"I doubt it. Being a Psion is mostly inconveniences really."

"Then what are you making it sound all big and impressive for, calling it the Progenitors' legacy and whatnot. It's just a disability ain't it?"

Joseph laughed at the blunt statement.

"Well, you've got that right. It's nothing but a downside. Sucks to be you, huh?"

"Yeah, sucks to be me alright. Fuck me I guess."

"Oh, don't be so down. At least now you know what's wrong with you."

"I guess..."

"Sometimes it's good to have an excuse to not try as hard, you know. Sometimes you just have to give yourself a way out and take it easy."

"Yeah, maybe...? Auguste thought on Joseph's words briefly. "At least no one can say that I'm not trying hard enough."

That being said, in the back of his mind, he wondered if that was truly the case. There must be more he could do, is there not?

I'm tired, Auguste thought in silence, I don't want to think anymore. Let me rest for a bit.

"Whatever," Auguste wound up saying. "If that's how it is, I don't feel like caring anymore."

"That's the spirit. Now rest. You have a busy day tomorrow, don't you?"

"I'll do that. I'll do just that..."

From his last words spoken before shutting his eyes, Auguste's voice betrayed his melancholy. However, within it, there was a hint of relief, as if a great burden had been lifted off his chest.

Having caught that, all of a sudden, Morganna didn't mind so much that it all might have been some made-up drivel. She'll try to get more out of Gladiolus in her own time, but maybe it's best to leave Auguste out of it. He can't use magic in the first place, so in the end, it shouldn't matter to him what the truth was.

***

"Why'd you make up such a story?" Morganna spoke up once again, after Auguste had fallen fast asleep.

"Did I make it up?" Joseph replied, raising a brow amusingly as he went.

"Didn't you? You yourself said that much of the Progenitor's history had been erased. In that case, how do you know so much detail about them? Enough to pinpoint humans as their descendants. To being with, I noticed that you didn't even bring up any evidence to back up your claim."

"Hmm..." Joseph furrowed his brows deeply, his previous amusement no longer present. "You're a sharp one, you know that."

"It's a given for a prodigy like myself. I'm nothing like Auguste over there. And also, my master would often mutter to herself about how Mystics are not to be trusted. I suppose I took it to heart, along with the long and bitter history between the witches and your kind."

"Well, it's true that we are not to be trusted. We call ourselves scholars, but we are also thieves, robbers of knowledge. Even the Mystic Arts we wield, we stole from the elves. But it's only natural. We humans are weak and we sought ways to survive and thrive in this cruel world. You witches are the same, aren't you? You who risk your souls in exchange for power by tapping into the Abyss. And haven't you realized it yet? The witches are Mystics too. The roots of our magic are the same. We merely split into two branches at some point in time."

"Sure," said Morganna dismissively, what Joseph claimed about Mystics and witches being the same irked her, but she decided to not take it to heart. "Let's not change the topic, however. We're talking about that tall tale you've just made up, weren't we?"

At Morganna's compose and cold response, Joseph's brows untangled themselves and he laughed with very little sincerity.

"As I've said," Morganna added, "I'm not like Auguste over there. I'm not about to get caught up in your pace."

"Indeed you won't. Indeed, you won't."

"Back to topic then. Putting the existence of the Progenitors aside, how do you prove that humans are the descendants of the Progenitors?"

"That would be difficult, as they have almost erased all traces of themselves."

"Almost, but not all. In that case, what was left behind?"

"That would be the humans, as well as the Alva."

"Any proof of that?"

"The Alvan myths spoke of the Progenitors when mentioning their gods."

"Just fairy tales then."

"But within the smoke, there is an ember of truth. We know the gods exist, so why not the Progenitors?"

"But what about the Psions? You said it yourself, the so-called Psionics that manifests in humans are nothing like those told in the myths. How do you even know it's the same thing? Just because it rejects Ether? That seemed far-fetched."

Realizing that the topic might lead to a dead-end, Morganna decided to alter her approach.

"......" For but a brief moment, Joseph fell silent. "You're a tough opponent, Morganna."

"And? Have you nothing else to say?"

"Very well, I suppose I'll tell you. The truth is, I've met one of the gods, and they revealed to me their entire history."

"That's a lie!"

"Oh? Do you have proof?"

"Of course!" Morganna smirked, her eyes like that of a predator cornering her prey. "The proof is within your Ether."

"Pardon?"

"You're the one who taught us, remember? That Ether in its active state forms Ethereal Threads, and that said threads could be used as receptors to absorb or pass on information. It is the same power us witches use to draw from our catalysts. It is what the elves, the Alva, and the Orcus use to sense one another's intentions. In other words, I just did the same with you. I have sensed your intentions and you are lying."

It was a bluff. Morganna could try, but having performed the technique by reflex and with no true understanding of the fundamentals, there was no way she could extract thoughts from a person's Ether. After all, a whole lot more goes on within a human body than just thoughts. She'd just get a jumble of information that could not be deciphered by her mind. It is for this very reason that the witches create catalysts in the first place, to purge the would-be catalyst of any information unrelated to the spell they're trying to cast.

That being said, the whole thing about a god revealing their history to Joseph sounded preposterous. While gods do exist, they have never been recorded to interact with a mortal directly.

"That's impossible." Joseph, however, easily called her bluff. "I'm a Mystic for god's sake. Did you think even for a moment that I wouldn't notice if you tried to read my mind? It was a nice attempt though. Maybe if you properly studied, you could be smarter about your bluff next time. Ah, to be young, foolish, and arrogant."

Joseph laughed heartily. Even Morgann could tell that he was genuinely laughing. Laughing at her, that is.

To be swatted down like a fly at the height of their heated exchange, Morganna could not help but be feel humiliated. The opponent being a Mystic did not help matters. His hearty laughter was poison to her ears, more so than usual.

"Whoa, hey, are your eyes turning red!? Y-you're not about to cry are you?"

"Who's about to cry! Shut up!"

"Oh shit!" Panic surfaced on Joseph's expression, his seemingly unbreakable composure out of the window. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? I went too far."

"I said I'm not crying!"

Technically, she wasn't, but she sure was getting close to it though. At the end of the day, Morganna was still a child. She might pretend to be much more mature than Auguste, and in some way, she was, but they were still around the same age, having roughly the same amount of experience in life.

It took a moment for Morganna to calm down, and by that time, the whole thing about the Progenitors and Psions and whatnot had been dropped entirely.

"This brings me back," Joseph spoke up to break the silence.

Morganna did not reply. She was still sulking.

"Being with you and Auguste, it reminds me of the good ol' days. Well, it wasn't 'good' per se, but I do feel nostalgic for it every now and then."

Joseph paused for a moment, taking note that despite not responding to him, Morganna was listening. With an audience of one, Joseph continued to prattle on.

"I knew a pair of friends you see, one had a cheeky attitude but was reliable when it comes to it while the other one had a sharp tongue and very much despises losing. Sounds familiar? You two are kind of like them, you know. When it's just us three, I can't help but feel talkative."

"You talk like an old man," Morganna finally shot back.

"I *am* an old man," replied Joseph, laughing.

***

End of Chapter 66