The streets of Finick’s Bay were a mess with trash from The night before. Men in full armor lay on the ground as the unmistakable stench of too much alcohol swelled into the air. colorful signs and flowers were strewn about sadly, looking like the aftermath of a particular rowdy birthday party.

Tay used to celebrate Alpiyon. He used to love it. He vaguely remembered the days before the gang, before Harrow.

He could see the bright colors in the night as Fireworks shot into the sky, bursting Into spectacular flowers of light. The parades of actors and dancers were something he remembered quite well.

But now It seemed foolish, childish even, to indulge in the festivities.

Tay stepped over a flipped and broken table laying beside a fat man with a full beard. He was heading to the shore where he would be commencing his training.

He shook his head.

Yesterday's events seemed to have gotten away from him. First, the Red Cross Guild sent Lithra Ross to mentor him, and then, just as surprisingly, the level 3 Adventurer, Alexander Bouma, asked to train him.

Perhaps Life was rewarding him for how poorly it had treated him…he doubted that.

The thought that this was some overly complicated scheme to kill him had crossed his mind. Maybe this was another betrayal, maybe he hadn't met Alexander by chance, but rather by the creation of someone he had wronged.

He pushed through the slog that seemed to surround him as he fought with his anticipation. Images of his past, of his recent present, flashed through his mind and he sighed, stretching his neck.

The adventurer told Tay to come to one of the more rocky areas of the shore early in the morning and to bring his full set of gear.

When he arrived, he found the Half-Oltian lounging comfortably on a small patch of sand.

When he saw Tay, he shot up and greeted him. They exchanged light pleasantries which Tay appalled. Oddly enough, However, it was Alexander who halted any more useless banter.

“Shall we get started?” He asked. Tay took a step back, concerned. “We're not going to practice first?” He asked as the larger man lunged forward.

“Nay! I believe that the real thing is always better than simple instruction.” His sword swung down in a powerful swing that Tay dodged by only inches.

Quickly, he activated ‘stoke’ and tried to counter. His attack only hit air as Alexander easily parried it. With one swift motion, he brought his long sword to Tay’s neck, only stopping a hair's width from his skin.

A smile crossed his face before fading. He looked above and behind Tay. “You've forgotten your Familiar.” He said, resting his sword on his shoulder.

“You need to work with your familiar. It can single-handedly win you a fight.”Orby was floating easily outside of the spars rang as if watching it.

With a thought, Orby wooshed forward, stretching his spherical shape. Alexander nodded before taking a fighting stance again.

The second round wasn't as quick. Now with backup, Tay could more easily focus on attacking and not defending. Tay lunged and swung whenever he saw an opening. Orby floated just out of range of the giant man, constantly spraying a plum of fire.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

However, Alexander wasn't going to just sit there. He rushed forward, his sword suddenly dangerously close to Tay. He ignored the spirit even as it focused more of its power. Tay jumped to his left, hoping to keep Alexander's back to his companion.

It worked. The half-Oltian continued to charge—almost blindly—at Tay. Sadly for him, the level difference was too great.

“Better.” He said as he lofted Tay off the ground. His familiar slowly glided towards them, Sitting still rather than circling. Alexander stared at it for a moment, before his eyebrows raised.

“Tay, get ready again.” He commanded In an unusually serious tone. Tay complied, lifting his Sword to his right side. He faced his opponent again, adding more power to his spell. But Alexander shook his head.

“Not me,” he said, stepping back. “I want you to fight him.” He pointed at Orby.

Ifirit was starting to like this Alexander person rather well. Not only was he an admirably good fighter, but he was also a teacher by his own heart.

So when Alexander told his summoner to fight him, he was momentarily caught off guard. Although that didn't last. He quickly realized that just maybe, the man might have been on to Ifirit.

The two bonded companions began to circle each other. Ifirit could see hesitation in Tay's eyes. He held his sword in various positions like he was trying to best counter him. Perhaps trying to find a way to beat him without hurting Ifirit. That wouldn't do.

Ifirit rushed forward, letting out a plum of fire as uncondensed as he could so as to make a sort of shield. He couldn't see Tay, but he was confident enough to not need to.

He pushed out the flame for only a moment longer before letting another beam of much more dense fire go. It blew through the cloud of oranges at just the right angle. Tay noticed the way it had been aimed too, but not what would happen next.

Ifirit had experimented with his main spell the day before. It didn't allow for much, really. He could only control the speed and density of It, and not much else. But with repetitive action came a better understanding and control and almost everything.

He had learned that if he focused, he could force the beam to curve. Albeit slightly. This had caught Tay unawares.

The blast of power slammed into the young man, sending him tumbling on the hard rock beneath them. Ifirit hovered over to his summoner, circling just above him as had become a habit. When you weren't able to talk, moving was the second best option.

“Thought so.” Alexander said. He had watched the match like a hawk, and Ifirit noticed him watching his every decision.

“What do you mean?” Tay asked as he shook out the small rocks on his shirt and slacks.

Alexander pointed to Ifirit.

“Your spirit. He's a returner.” He smirked at Ifirit as if impressed. Tay had a questioning expression, so the adventurer continued.

“Most familiar spirits are…let's say “new.”” He said uncertainty. “What I mean by that is they've never been summoned or forcefully brought to our world—the physical world. More than likely, they are newborns, which just like any Intelligent race over here, means that they aren't particularly good at…anything” He looked at Ifirit apologetically. He of course didn't have an issue with anything the man had said. It was when people blatantly Insulted his children that issue arose.

“When these new spirits start to fight alongside their summoners and such, they aren't exactly competent in combat. When their summoner dies, they return to the spirit realm. By this time they are far more aware of themselves and everything around them.”

“What normally happens then is the spirit will either roam the vast biomes of their Realm or travel to the physical world willingly and become one of the natural spirits whose job it is to make sure our world doesn't go to pot.” He waved his hand in the air.

“Unimportant. What matters is that these spirits do this for decades and even centuries. These are what we call elder spirits. Really, they're no different from the high races at That point. The sheer amount of knowledge that they've amassed along with wisdom makes them great beings in more than one way.”

Tay looked to be saying “And?” With his eyes.

“Well, occasionally these elder spirits choose to be summoned again. We're not sure what the condition for summoning them is, but I digress. I think that you might have been one of the lucky few who have managed to catch the eye of an elder spirit.”

Almost. Ifirit thought. But it was close enough. He could see an expression on Tays face that he hadn't seen before. Child-like excitement.