Noctis knew that Dion had placed a test in front of Jorun. In other experiences, he might have rejected the notion. He wanted to avoid the clash between his two closest friends. Not to mention the bard had already tested metal against himself. While there was another part of him that understood. A bout was simple and nothing more than a proving. The edge. To go and be pushed there was a preliminary question of prowess. How and where a member would be placed in the pack. In the end, it would improve their teamwork to know each other’s limits.

A demand for Kenan’s attention was ordered. While Dion and Jorun pitted wind against shadow. He would have the time to consolidate.

The weeks of strained contact with his companion made the traits of the bond dull. His claws became nails as they morphed from dark black to light gray. Fangs broke away from sparring and they returned as teeth. Smell, sight, and touch all fell under a haze of normal human senses. Only his bestial instincts had remained instated.

When Dion had closed the distance. Noctis felt the dirus command the shadows to engulf him. Once they broke. Kenan was in a small copse of trees a little away from the soon-to-start dissension.

The overwhelming joining of power flooded his core, body, and mind. The effects were so powerful that his soul shifted and aspects of his will had been altered. The definition of the bond between the two was the same as before. Master to servant. The change was in the make-up of the connection. When it started, Kenan took the physical talents of a beast. Dion claimed both a factor of sentient forethought and the magical capabilities of his master. The barter had changed. Now Dion brought his own share of power and had a transformation that echoed in his canine bones that made him more him.

Something different, something that wasn’t the apathetic nature of potency charged through the metaphysical connection. Memories. Vague images of vibrancy juxtaposed with stark coldness. The faint hum of sadness. A pit of a missing packmate. Some fight with constant fear and dread. The same dark emotions turned to glorious pride. An addiction to growth. Kenan’s conscience climbed into Dion's mind. There but just tangible. Thought? A recollection? A call was sent to Noctis. He answered and landed on the edge of truth.

Suddenly he was violently veered from any more interpersonal inspection. Noctis’ body demanded. His bones recounted the time they had created the pack and proceeded to fracture. They reformed stronger and longer. His teeth followed suit as they were angrily ripped out of his jaw and replaced by a set of sharp fangs. Close behind was his nails. Each expanded rapidly and turned such a true black that they almost glowed. Last was the rapid shredding and ameliorating of his muscles. He felt his pants buck against his found weight and the pressure of new mass.

Kenan had managed to stifle his screams to come out just above pained moans. The fiery pain of transformation assuaged. The absolute agony wracked his body and Noctis couldn’t help but yell. Under his skin was a snake that burrowed its way through. His organs and tendons were severed, punctured, and broken. All his limbs pointed in an awkward and wrong direction. Noctis had to transfer his will so his body had the extra edge as it fought desperately to survive.

Moments inflated from pain and turned to minutes. He decided if he was idle, then this ailment wouldn’t pass and it would be a concoction for his demise. One portion of his mind fought the onslaught of torture while another sliver delved into his body and tried to find the point that suffered within.

His muscles, bones, and dormant blood felt weakened. Broken, sore, and atrophied. They felt used. Underneath the blanket pain, hidden away under the torrents of other afflictions. There was a familiar simmering of his spine where it radiated out to all the other joints.

Noctis shoved his surprise into the undercurrents of brevity and shifted his sights from the physical. He peeled back reality and focused on the dominion of mana inside. It was the map of power engraved into his metaphysical being. fifteen gates throughout the body, Each lead to a sphere, the dantian. Hundreds of lines burrowed from the convergence to outside the body. Veins mirroring that of blood allowed for power to exit and react. Mana was being forcefully pumped into his single gate. In intrinsic instinct, Kenan knew the source of the influx was the bond between him and Dion.

Power filled his dantian and gate to the brim. It made them swell. With each moment, more dark purple power filled and stretched his storing capabilities. Kenan tried to force it out and create a pillar of fire to focus on. As he called the potency, he was struck with the multiplication of his pain. He expanded his mental parameters. Noctis saw that his mana veins were being shredded under an invisible force and repaired in a new, alternative route. He didn’t have the time, or the capacity to find the pattern. And it was because of the mimicked and embroidered nature of the veins that his body produced such an astonishing torrent of torment.

The pain and power increased. Dangerous cracks formed in his core as the walls were expanded too thin. He felt the effect of mana strain and his mind was at the brink of darkness. Kenan Ignored the growing concern with his dantian as he pivoted and reached.

The void closed in. A certain armageddon that was not to be denied. The pain faded and the touch subsided to nothing. The last bits of his forward-thinking conscience touched upon his will. Rerouted the strange mixture of magical potency and unwavering resolve.

With its vibrancy power once again dominated. The previous obscurity was waded away from the brightness shown by Kenan's determination. Further, he switched his attention back on the current trouble and pulled from the instinct of survival.

He brought his mana to bear with a heave of mental might. Swirled that vibrancy against the current of power. A memory was called and used. Information once stored ignited in the pressure of need. He knew what, and how he did it as the mana that thrashed his metaphysical insides was used to buffer and create new dantian walls.

A cycle was formed. Power would buckle in its confined space, and Kenan would restrain it to repair what it destroyed. And then it would repeat. He knew and felt the suffering. The subtle but ever-present rising of heat. A prickling numb. Phantom pain.

While he could not get comfortable. The process created a pattern in the chaos, something he clung to while the turmoil was at its highest. Then when the mana started to come in at more manageable levels. The unrelenting high waves of power became a tsunami.

He was unprepared, and the rushing mana was brought to bear in his dantian like a gush of fire as it was stretched too thin. Each molecule of power was vibrated right next to the other. Heat radiated so strongly that the ethereal potency turned physical as dark orange fire burst from his skin like it was trapped.

Something had set off his pattern and a factor was introduced. In fractions of time, he knew the price he was paying. In the foundations of practice, he swirled mana up and down a clogged gate. Like all things that came with repetition, it turned easy and was stored in his mental muscle memory. A sub-objective was thrown from active recall in its monotony.

With time and the sudden power surge, the gate had its previous fortification weakened and fractured. Like a function of a body, it sucked in mana without direct control and it neither responded to any provocation to thwart the intake.

As desperation took its toll in despair. His actions turned to those of the circumstances. A question was answered faster than it could be asked. Death? Or pain? Like opening the gate, the flood of power swarmed into his reforming mana veins.

Pain and agony, twins of the same nature. Kenan focused on them and wrapped his determination around the concepts. Then pushed harder. It felt like a hundred thousand creatures had been crawling underneath his skin and had been dead set on causing as much mayhem as possible. He screamed and something inward snapped.

The fire flickered and ignited in his metaphysical body. Then the hurt turned upward so much that it simply couldn’t do so anymore and morphed into an odd soothing warmth. His mana was burned into existence at an increased rate.

And then, in just a few seconds. The path was stabilized and a circuit was formed. Dark green Soulfire raged from Kenan in a vertical vortex. Roaring so high it passed the treetop and roamed past.

While the mana escaped. Noctis’ brain fused short and his mind escaped into an endless black.