It was quite amusing, to be honest. My answer, that was. It had come almost naturally to me and I did not think it was wrong.

Even more amusing I realised, was his speciality. It was so obvious now that I think about it, but I could’ve never thought something as harmless and pretty as a point art could be elevated to such a fine and dangerous Art here.

I do not feel jealous though, not even a bit. Cause being jealous would mean admitting my specialty was worse than his.

But can one art form really be worse than the other? Can one really proclaim a portrait better than a caricature without a personal bias?

Maybe I’m not as skilled as he is right now, but am I so unmotivated enough to not beat him in what is basically a Painting contest turned a little deadly?

‘Heh, as if.’

“Hmm, I felt it when you froze that blanket a little earlier. Though I don’t think your specialty is related to manipulating cold, is it? I felt it more like a side-effect of what you were attempting to.” He said, his tone critical.

‘Smart. And perceptive. A dangerous man.’

“You are right, it’s not. My specialty is manipulating Mist and the components related to it. Although to be fair, I don’t know how I’m supposed to. It was more reflex earlier than actual thought.” I replied.

Mist. I decided in that instant that I liked it. It was everywhere, it was so simple and it was beautiful. It made things beautiful.

It made my paintings beautiful.

It would hide me and protect me from an uncertain future and unknown enemies.

“An apt element, very versatile in its use if you are just a little creative. Though I hardly doubt the last point, considering the aptitude you have shown as of yet.

“As for how to proceed with developing your powers. First,” he said raising a finger, and the blanket beneath me scattered in points, leaving me with the same intense feeling of free fall and out of breath, and reformed as a completely white chair beside him on which he conveniently plopped upon before continuing, “tell me, can you feel the Source?”

“The Source?” I muttered and in a once-in-a-blue-moon moment of insight, my head tilted backward instinctively and my eyes rolled over.

“So you can sense it. Good! I was worried you might’ve skipped that step somehow, but at least we are on the correct path.” He said, much more at ease now.

‘So not a complete weirdo at least, good job Conor.’

“So now your next step would be to firm that connection. Make it stronger. Try to sense it more every time you have free time. Tell me, do you feel anything weird when I use my powers?”

“Yes! I had an intense feeling of falling. I felt out of breath as well. It was pretty suffocating, to be honest.”

“That is exactly what we have to combat here. Imagine that was what you felt just from being close to someone using their powers, so what would you feel like when you actually use it?” His eyebrows raised, and he looked at me with a smirk.

“That sounds absolutely dreadful. I cannot imagine how you can even stand straight right now.”

“It’s difficult, very honestly. Even for me. And it would not go away so soon. The standard protocols dictate copious amount of practice, and most definitively in dummy combat scenarios to reach a stage where you can stand straight without fainting of nausea or asphyxiation, or sometimes unfortunately both.”

‘Um… what? Combat?’

“How long are we talking about here Major? Is it a few weeks, or a few months? And why combat, it seems out of point.”

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“The average period is around 2-3 years and then a lifetime of practice to get completely rid of it. The greatest of Artists in our military have spent their lives, unsuccessful.

“The greatest genius recorded did it within 40yrs and he passed away the following year.”

‘WHAT! 3 years just to not fall down every time I use it? And then 40 years just to be able to use it freely? It’s ridiculous… wait, if what he’s saying is true, then that is only true if I actively engage in combat.. no no no no I did not want this!!’

“This… this sounds ridiculous sir! Why are we being forced to fight when we are supposed to be Artists? I’m sorry sir, but I have no plans in fighting for the army.

“You have my gratitude for explaining this… but you won’t have my servitude.” I addressed him with a tone of finality.

“Oh, I think there’s a misunderstanding here boy,” he said, in a genuinely sorry tone, “I did not realize I was talking to a fool!”

“What did you call me Major?” I looked at him, a silent grudge within me but I had a bad feeling.

“I said what I said, boy. This is not an invitation. It is a gift, from your elder brother. And he’d very much appreciate it if you’d be a good boy like always and take it quietly.” His tone is now annoyingly jovial.

His voice pricked at my conscious and then I realised. I had forgotten about the knife beside me for the ones coming at me.

The outer enemies might exist or they might not. My vision might hold true or they might not. But the ones around me surely exist.

‘I should’ve thought more… gosh I feel stupid!!’ My hand on my face, my back slumped as I felt a wave of unease within me.

“Anyway before I leave, lemme finish what I was saying earlier. You might think I’m your big mustache-twirling villain, but I’m not. It is for your own good.

“That brings me to the second point, after getting used to sensing the Source all the time, you’ll reach a stage where you’ll have a faint outline of it in your head. For most of them, it’s like existing with an almond above you.

“For some, it’s bigger, for some it’s smaller.” he said as a swirl of points disconnected from his chair and formed an almond above his head before mixing with the chair again.

“When you have that image set in your head, then you must try to call upon your concept with that image in mind. Focus on it as much as you can, alongside you must have an image of how you wanna paint the world with your concept.

“If you’re talented enough and the image is clear, your concept will react and manifest.

“And that is all there is to being an Artist. All you need is continuous practice and creative ways to go ways.” He said, in his trademark jovial voice which I’ve started to hate by now.

How could it be so simple! There’s no way it’s that simple! There was literally no explanation about the murals, is he hiding?

“Umm, if you don’t mind, can you tell me about the murals in the palace?” I asked, trying to suppress my annoyance at the guy.

“Oh, that? No idea! It’s supposed to be some secret ritual by the noble families and it’s a heavily guarded secret. Only the most trusted Artists nurtured by the family would know anything about it.”

‘I feel like I have more questions than I started with…’ I sighed in defeat, my patience with this man running dry for any more questions.

“Well seems like there are no more questions. So get better soon. We’ll give you a week of rest to get used to your new state and then will come to enlist you in the military.

“I’ll let His Highness know how animated you were learning of your new position.” And with that, he waved his arm draping in my blanket once again as he walked out of the door.

And that soon I threw the blanket away!

Hell I’m touching something this guy sat on!!

“Who the fuck would’ve thought I’d be attacked as soon as I get something exciting huh… I really should’ve prepared more. Fuck!”

I wondered in despair as my discomfort increased with the second. I felt itchy in my medical t-shirt and threw it away but still couldn’t get away from the feeling.

It was like a worm in my skin, crawling around, finding places to lay her eggs in my skin and eventually eat me alive.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a mirror, and staring at it I found myself covered in bright blue flowing sand and the Source above my head.

‘Why did he call it an almond though? It looks nothing like it…’ I wondered if he had lied to me about something.

‘He did not even ask any questions about my awakening.. was it just some kind of power play? Or a lie to lull me into a false peace (/anxiety) about the situation?’ I wondered.

Finding no answers, I thought about the Source again.

‘It surely is one marvelous thing. But if no one can really see it, then does that mean… I have an advantage over others! Can I use it to kill that servant of a bit-‘

Okay, hold your horses boy… no killing, nuh-uh-uh. I’m not a brute nor a young master. I’ll be more than happy if I can use it to my advantage to get away from here somehow.

‘Hmm, maybe not everything is bad.’

And with some positivity finally returning to my mind, I recalled I had one more option. A last card that can save me from this situation.

‘I guess it’s time to meet my lovely father…’