Panting heavily, Stroud shot up in bed. His eyes flickered with a wild light as he stared up the bare ceiling.

Each breath was strained, but he was overcome by such an intense feeling of deja vu — that he was almost able to completely ignore the pangs of sharp pain in his chest.

Have I returned…? Plunging back into the abyss moments before a sudden and painful awakening… It felt almost exactly like his first few moments waking up in this world.

But this time, there was no warm voice at his side to soothe him.

Stroud found himself alone in a long, sprawling room full of rough beds surrounded by half-drawn curtains. His only comfort was the familiar ache of his ribs that let him know he hadn’t died.

He sank back down onto the mattress, and for a long while, all he did was listen to his own breathing. There were no other sounds to distract from the chaotic thoughts that warred in his mind, pitching a frenzied battle. Stroud tried his best to distance himself from them, he really did, but there came a point where confrontation was inevitable.

At a loss, he tightly squeezed his eyes shut.

What… What were those beasts…? Among all the competitors, this was the question that had emerged as the victor. It felt the most approachable, and he dared not stray near any thoughts that would lead him toward the jaws of the abyss that had swallowed his consciousness at the end.

Carefully, Stroud’s mind probed inward. He veered toward his heart and circled around it from a distance.

The area felt so empty now in the absence of pain. There was only a dull ache. He prodded and pried but his fear didn’t struggle against the pressure of his acknowledgment like it usually did, though neither did his feelings of kinship and familial love surge to fill him with strength.

It was all just a shallow void, and Stroud didn’t know if he even wanted to inspect it any closer.

Those feelings in the past had always felt like they were his own. Sure, they placed him under a certain amount of pressure, but wasn’t that just the nature of emotions? They influenced, but they weren’t anything more, and ultimately, he was still in control… right?

Stroud bit his lower lip until blood was drawn as that doubt washed through him in an agonizing wave. As much as he might want to, he couldn’t deny that when the lion and the snake had manifested — they were not under his command. And their rampage had brought about tangible harm...

Could Gau have been wrong? He shifted his train of thought onto a new track.

Is my spirit even more powerful than she could discern — my time less? Is this the result of my mind and body lagging too far behind?

Suddenly, Stroud felt a ripple of response in the depths of his being. The trace of dread that had lingered behind that final idea triggered his fear, and upon feeling the snake stir, he could no longer resist taking a closer look.

Within the chambers of his heart, two mighty beasts cowered in distant corners. Each one eyed the other as they licked their wounds.

The lion’s radiance had dulled and his mane was ragged, but the haughty looks that he sent toward the snake still contained all of his previous pride. In response, the withered, thorny reptile could only hiss and turn its head away. Stroud was glad to see the two in such a sorry state, but the knowledge that they had similarly survived the storm resulted in an equal measure of disappointment.

He observed them a few moments longer, and the more he looked, the more that odd sensation of detachment he’d felt when he’d first seen the beasts built inside him.

Those apparitions no longer seemed to be a true part of him, Stroud recognized. They contained their own will and a degree of power… and they were dangerous.

Sitting back up in the bed, Stroud swung his feet over the side and reopened his eyes. His sclera was laced with thin, branching threads of red, but there was a peace and certainty contained within the dark pupils.

Right now, what they were, and their origin mattered not. There will be a day when I bring these demons under my heel.

Bedraggled, and still drenched in the cold sweat of his fitful sleep, Stroud strode toward the only door at the end of the hall.

Without the presence of the beasts to distract or prompt him, he had been granted a window of freedom. And opportunity was outside waiting for him.

Stroud burst out of the healing ward, startling a group of three female apprentices who were passing through the hall. They whispered behind his back, but their words fell on deaf ears.

There was only one thing occupying Stroud’s mind at the moment. Merits — and all he could achieve with them.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

***

Clenching her fists, Maeve stood in front of the tall, imposing door. It felt like even if she craned her neck she wouldn’t be able to see the top of it.

She knew that was just her nerves influencing her, but the longer she waited, the further she seemed to shrink and drift away from her goal. 

“You can do this…” Maeve breathed out and lifted her knuckles to the wood. She knocked as loud as she could until her skin felt like it would tear and split open. There was a small hope inside of her that her determination would shine through and help her chances. 

Instructors weren’t supposed to take on any apprentices as disciples until they settled on a vocation near the end of their first year, but… she already knew what path she wanted to take and being a little early couldn’t hurt, right?

“Enough! I’ve heard you!” A weary voice sounded through the wood as it approached the door. 

Maeve pulled back her hand and blushed as a windswept tuft of hair mounted atop an angry glare looked down at her.

“Oh—! Miss Marwood… What brings you here?” Instructor Reeve inquired, his tone softening.

“U-Um…” Maeve faltered, unable to draw her eyes away from his scalp. She knew that he wore a wig, but it was her first time seeing the man without it. And it was clear to see now why he did. 

Feeling the heat of her gaze, Reeve scratched at his scalp and chuckled dryly. “Why don’t you come in? We can sit down and have a chat.”

“Yea, sure!” Maeve’s blush deepened. Inadvertently, she had just insulted the Magus she was about to ask a favor of and was berating herself internally as she followed the man inside. 

“Please, excuse the mess,” Reeve spoke over his shoulder as he cleared some room for them at the table in his reception area. There were glass bottles and vials and all sorts of bundled up or processed herbs strewn about the man’s workstation, spilling into the rest of his room. 

“I’m not bothered!” she replied, cheerfully. 

The last time she had visited Instructor Reeve’s room it was immaculately kept, but nearly empty. So when she had heard the rumors that he was the most accomplished Alchemist at the Sanctum — she had trouble believing them. However, what she saw now put any doubts to rest. In fact, she felt her spirits lifting as she looked around.

“So, what can I help you with, young lady?” Reeve smoothed out the bottom of his robe before he sat down.

“Well…” Maeve hesitated to follow his example. She wasn’t sure exactly how master and disciple relationships were supposed to work, but she didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot by acting too casually around him. Instead, she drew in a lungful of air, puffing herself up before she bowed and blurted out: “I’m here to implore you to take me on as a disciple!”

The words tumbled out of her mouth rapidly, and only the sound of her heavy breathing followed after. Maeve’s guts squirmed as she shut her eyes and prepared for rejection.

“No.”

Though she'd been anticipating it, the simplicity of the man’s reply left her speechless. She raised her head, mouth unhinged, and looked at him. In his eyes, she saw a bottomless well of remorse and sadness, and it almost instantly reduced her to tears as she was drawn in. 

Even on Stroud’s worst days, she’d never seen him mired this deep in grief or despair.

“I’m just an old man slowly crawling to his end, Miss Marwood. I’ve been keeping track of my charges and I heard that you were interested in Alchemy, but… my time has long passed.”

“That’s not true!” Maeve exclaimed. “Everyone I’ve asked says your techniques are the best! The older apprentices were blown away when you gave a demonstration in the lower halls last week…”

Reeve shook his head. “I’ve just practiced the fundamentals for a long time. Maybe decades ago I could have offered you pertinent reachings, but I’ve been stuck in a rut and long surpassed by my peers… in both theory and innovation.”

“Please, Instructor Reeve—!” Maeve implored. “I really want to learn from you — even if it's only the fundamentals you speak of…”

The Magus scoffed, but she could see the gloom in the wrinkles of his face receding. “What’s the rush? If you wait until the fall — you’ll be assigned a mentor who will help you find the right master.”

Maeve bit her lower lip. “I’m just tired of waiting. I already know Alchemy is what I want to pursue… so why keep waiting…”

“Give me the truth — or I’ll send you away right now!” Reeve snapped. His gaze had hardened, instilling in her a trace of fear. 

Instinctually, Maeve wanted to take a step back, but she forced herself to remain in place, standing tall. “I want to help my friend.”

Without speaking, Reeve gestured for her to continue on. 

“Because of me… he always has to place himself in danger. The first time he nearly died, and just recently, he came back bloodied and bruised from a trip to the outer city. B-But every time…” Maeve faltered, choking back the sobs building in her chest. “E-Every time… I can only watch from the side and do nothing…”

“I just want to help!” she cried out, releasing her long pent-up frustration. “B-Because I can feel that he’s desperate and I know he’ll keep pushing himself into bad situations!”

Maeve wiped at her eyes with the hem of her sleeve as she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. “I know that if I learn Alchemy I can help him — and help others. I-I’m just worried I’m already too late…”

“I can teach you.” Reeve’s voice was so soft that it barely reached her ears. “But not as a Master. Once a week, come to my quarters and I can give you a lesson on the basics.”

Unable to speak, Maeve could only nod. Unhindered, her tears kept flowing.