Against the Norm

> ”When the old ways evolved, people found easier ways to achieve the same results for less effort. People call it efficiency. I call it skipping steps.” ~Frein Nivan

Xiv had lost consciousness as soon as he entered the training hall. He didn’t know for how long, but it seemed to have been only minutes. He sat on a comfortable chair just outside a small arena.

Frein sat in the middle, legs crossed and hands on his knees. His posture was straight, yet relaxed, and the meiyal swirled around him. Xiv blinked and suddenly found an entire pocket of meiyal gone as though they were never there in the first place. The Visitor had just Gathered the meiyal within the entire arena.

Xiv Reinforced his eyes with Smelted meiyal, allowing him to see the swirling energies a lot easier and assess them better. Frein was like a shining star, only that the light around him shimmered with dark and crimson light. A hint of verdant hue was mixed in, visible within the gaps, but he also saw touches of a white, golden center.

Frein was Milling four types of meiyal and was doing it with such refinement that the Vyndivalian had never seen before. Granted, Xiv’s experience with Milling was minimal at best, but supposedly, through Reinforced eyes, it didn’t differ much from Smelting.

The Visitor jerked in attention and snapped towards him. Xiv didn’t realize how acute Frein’s senses were. Reinforcing didn’t give off any obvious signs but he still caught them anyway.

“Did I startle you?” Frein asked. “Sorry. Whatever it was you were doing startled me. It felt different from Meiyal Arts.”

“How did you—”

“I don’t know a lot about Meiyal Armaments. I didn’t have a lot to read regarding your kingdom or your discipline, but it simply doesn’t make sense to me how a Forged Weapon and Armor can challenge Irista Nation or the Nightmare Lands with just the two of them.

“I imagine those are comparable to the Meiyal Art’s Exhibits, and Meiyal Armaments have something more fundamental. Something everyone can use.”

“It’s called Reinforcing,” Xiv shared. It earned him Frein’s earnest attention. He was still Milling, though. “I’m sure you already know about Mining and Smelting?”

“Yes.” Frein nodded.

“Smelted meiyal can be used to Reinforce ourselves or our Armaments. Depending on how many Layers we apply to Reinforce something, we achieve certain effects almost similar to Meiyal Arts.”

The Visitor absorbed the information while slowly bobbing his head up and down like a broken toy. “I see. So the skill lies on how many Layers you can apply. Is that it?”

“Correct.” Xiv found himself slightly questioning his sanity. “Are you trying to Smelt?”

“I’ve been experimenting,” Frein admitted. “My meiyal system already adapted to Meiyal Arts, but fundamentally, both disciplines stemmed from the same origin. Imagine if I can both Draw my Display and Don my Armaments. That would be quite a sight!”

“What makes you so sure?” Xiv had grown up believing the same thing, but his peers shunned him for it. He had learned to keep those thoughts in his head. Now, someone was evoking those thoughts and he just couldn’t help but challenge them.

“Heard it from the one that lived through the entire history since the Divine Severing.”

“Schrodie, the Gatekeeper?”

“The one and only.” Frein smiled. “It’s probably not obvious to you, but back where I came from, this sort of thing, Meiyal Arts, Meiyal Armaments, meiyal itself, they don’t exist. And what I can achieve now? It’s something my people couldn’t even dream of.

“The point is, Schrodie and Katherine taught me all I know. And I do think the Gatekeeper is trustworthy, though she likes to hide things.”

“So they really are one and the same…” Xiv smiled.

“Were one and the same,” Frein pointed out. “I’ve been experimenting due to the fact that, because of the evolutionary changes throughout history, the two disciplines are now fundamentally different from one another. I’ve been trying to look up forgotten and discarded disciplines just to see if I can make a connection or find a hint on how to make things work, but no luck so far. I don’t have a lot of time to delve on it anyways.”

“But you think it’s a possibility, right?” Xiv asked, his enthusiasm sky-rocketing. He never realized he could find someone to bond with over this topic. “I’ve been looking through it myself when I have free time.”

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“Oh, we should exchange notes, then!” Frein reciprocated with the same energy. “We can sort something out on the Atlas Sid.”

He turned towards the steel doors of the training hall before Xiv could even hear the footsteps. “First, I sort of have to convince these rookies that they’re doing Meiyal Arts the wrong way.”

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Frein decided not to stop his Milling. He did, however, regulate it, as to not outwardly offend the new arrivals of the Minaveil Manor’s training hall.

The hall itself wasn’t exactly elaborate. There was a spacious stage where he sat, which awfully reminded him of the underground arena back on Earth. The only difference was this stage was depressed into the floor rather than elevated. Ground and dirt filled the entire space.

Training dummies stood on one side of the room, which were oddly enough, still in pristine condition. The other side looked like a mini obstacle course of sorts, and also remained untouched. That, or Frill was simply that good with her job.

A room was segregated on a corner on the side of the dummies. It had a glass enclosure and Frein could see various utilities and refreshments neatly tucked away.

All in all, it was functional enough.

Admiral Garm Militia stepped near the ledge of the arena. “I didn’t think you would be unprepared, Son,” he implied.

Frein stood and smiled. “I’m as prepared as I can be, Pa.” He lifted his arms, Gathered and intensified his Milling but only slightly. “I can do this all day and still not be full.”

Garm’s eyes widened at the implication. “Perpetual-Layered Milling Form. How many meiyal marks do you have?”

Frein activated his marks. Ten had unsealed themselves without even him noticing. He could feel each one resonate with his meiyal core, giving him the exact number without even the need to count. The Admiral observed with Siffera and came up with the same information.

“Only ten…” said one of the Guard Knights behind the Admiral.

“How?” asked another.

“Well, I’ve only been at this for about half a year and a few days,” Frein explained. “I was given training before I set foot in this world. I imagine the rest will unseal themselves given time, but it doesn’t really matter anyway.”

His words provoked a certain reaction from all four Guard Knights. He even noticed Garm struggling to hide his expressions.

“Katherine taught me,” Frein added, “as well as how I should fight in this world. Whatever norm it is you’re used to, you won’t get it from me.”

The Guard Knights moved to retort but Garm raised a silencing hand.

“He is correct,” he said, turning to them. “In war, in the Nightmare Lands, against undead, criminals, or Nightmares, you will find no mercy nor quarter. If you expect formalities or traditions or honor to save your lives, then I will send you to more peaceful posts.”

A female Guard Knight, an elf with auburn hair, stepped forward. Her contempt was apparent, but determination drove her more than anything. “I want to fight, Admiral! The Atlas Sid is my home! I want to defend it!”

A male canintine stood beside her. “I am the same!”

A male human followed next. “I will fight as well!”

And lastly, a female felintine. “No peace for this fellow, Admiral.”

Frein didn’t wait for Garm to consider their words. He clasped his fist with such strength that it echoed in the entire room. Everyone turned to him.

“Good,” he said. “I like it. We should get started.”

The Admiral saw his initiative and stepped aside. Princess Kristel entered soon after. The two of them took the seats near Xiv, flanking the Vyndivalian on both sides. He looked helplessly uncomfortable.

“Wouldn’t want to miss this,” Kristel commented, passing a drink to the men with her.

“Any bets?” the Admiral asked.

“Frein wins, no contest,” Xiv said almost instinctively. He realized what he did and shrunk. “Sorry. I’d offer my savings, but you have them all confiscated.”

“Just do a casual bet, Xiv. And we will return some of your belongings later,” the Princess said. “I’m betting the same for a gold piece.”

“You guys are seriously taking bets?” Frein asked them. It felt too close to home. His nonchalant attitude towards two iconic persons provoked a reaction from the Guard Knight group, especially the elven one.

“Just for fun,” Kristel said. “Can I record, by the way?”

“Sure, I guess.” Frein turned to the elf who glared at him with contempt. “Look, the Princess and I are friends. Deal with it.”

She was taken aback, but Frein just returned to the three bystanders. “What about you, Pa?” That last line set off the elf in fumes. Her companions were just as angry.

“This is going to be so easy,” Frein said through the Tether.

“No four-meiyal, then?” Elizzel asked. She had been more than content in staying silent unless spoken to.

“No, let’s give them some proper scare. It’ll help build character.”

The faunel went to work.

“If you can defeat all four of my rookies, I will give you a meiyal-charged material appropriate for your marks, aside from the Purifying Stone, of course,” Garm said. “If just one of them wins, then I will give them one each instead.”

Frein agreed. “Well then, the condition for this sparring session is either incapacitation or surrender. If you want to cut some limbs, make sure to leave a meiyal signature. Anything else goes.”

The Visitor turned and distanced himself from the Guard Knights, providing them some space before turning again to face them.

“The entire point of this sparring session is to give you a preliminary feel of how it is to fight within the Nightmare Lands. Obviously, I have not been within the deepest trenches, yet, so I can only provide you with lessons I’ve learned from my early experience. To make this exhibition easier, you may treat me as though I am a Nightmare.”

Frein poured four-meiyal into his Siffera and emphasized the Art, causing an explosion of his ego to reverberate within the room. He didn’t care whether the three observers were caught, but he paid enough attention to focus his influence over the four that stood before him.

The elven Guard Knight took a step first. Fear and anger caused a chaotic expression to appear on her rather beautiful face. Sheer determination was urging her to step forward. Frein applauded her for that, but clearly his point didn’t get across.

He lifted his Siffera.

“Guys. Again, I’m a Nightmare in this scenario. You guys just allowed miss elf here to die—” Frein lifted a hand to stop her from speaking out of turn. “The name can follow. The Nightmares won’t care who you are.”

Still, nobody moved.

“What I’m trying to say is simple, folks. If you are to stand a chance against a Nightmare, you should fight me all at once.”

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