No magic. No Vatr. Just him, just his sword. Kenan stood but his legs wobbled. Cuts smeared red and brown in a mixture of mud and blood. Large bruises dispersed an extreme amount of vital fluid under his skin. His muscles were convinced they no longer had any strength, but were persuaded by pure drive. Nothing, not even his own body, would keep Noctis from improving.

Ozzy stood across from him. Along with Noctis, he was shirtless and barefoot. Diversely, he only had a few injuries planted on his skin. The hammer in his hands still flowed as if it was weightless. While Kenan had a grimace of determination, he had an odd taunting smirk on his face. Goading in a way that only the mute could achieve.

Kenan changed his stance to something strikingly similar to Salpirkos. He launched forwards using his unamplified natural muscle. The force was still enough to send a large plume of dirt in the air. As he closed in, Ozzy swept at his feet with his hammer. Noctis hopped, briefly landed on the weapon, and then redoubled his effort forward. He aimed for a long laceration on the chest. He didn’t expect for the goliath to headbut the edge of the sword. A sound of metal on rock ranged out. A strong vibration went through his arms, cracking bone. The goliath dropped his hammer, and punched Kenan while he was still in the air. Shunting him fumbling in the air. Pain wracked Noctis’ arms and chest. His head bumped hard on the ground, causing a gust of confusion in his mind.

When the momentum stopped he landed was on stomach. Beyond his body, and mana, he pooled an energy. His will, his drive to push beyond, just a bit further. He flipped over. As he activated the muscles in his stomach to stand, a large, incredibly heavy hammer plopped on his chest. Then, to make sure there was no further fight. Ozzy pressed his weight onto the weapon. Kenan looked at his sparring partner, who shook his head. “Fine.” Kenan said, as his mind slipped into unconsciousness.

***

The fire in front of Kenan danced. It roiled and churned. It felt familiar and yet distant. A friend and foe. It held both an eternal hunger and chaos, similar to the piece of plane held inside. But, there was also a calm and order. After the rage came resurgence. His thoughts shifted, from fire to his connection to the flame. It wasn’t the same as the one with his sword, nonesthic, or Dion. Those are intricate bonds tied in an amalgamation of impossibly complicated mana structures.

No, the relationship between him and his chosen magic was completely mental. Was it? The dances he played with his sword and fire felt so natural. Was this another piece of his identity? It was oddly convenient. To be the element that bathed him, baptized him. Just for him to harness its destructive nature on others, like it did with him. Not to mention it was the magic of Roshu. A coincidence? Kenan didn’t think so. A play of the Three Fates? More than likely in his eyes.

Or merely, it was simply the words of his family. They wrung in his ears. He tried to listen closely. But the words of his father and mother become distant, monotone and unrecognizable.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“You must be decisive, once you make a choice, you must have no regret. If you do, that will lead to hesitation, that will lead to complacency and that will lead to death. One must be decisive.”

“Well, you have to be ready for anything and change from one thing to another. The world likes to throw stones, and oftentimes one right after another. You have to be ready to act, to be fluid, and ever expecting change.”

“I do not control it. To control something will effectively allow yourself to be controlled. I guide it. Similar to Mother and Father. They guide us, show us a path, but not make us choose it.”

Kenan’s fist balled in anger. What was wrong with him? He crunched his legs and hugged them. What did he want? What did he need? What was bothering him? The moment he saw the women on the corrupted wyverns back, thankful for her sons timely saving, and Nukia willingness give her soul. It was something, in his sights, something he could understand. But…

His thoughts snapped as a large hand grabbed his head and lifted it up. Another placed a cup in front of him. Ozzy stood silently still, with the patience and apathy of stone. “What?” The mug was pushed further into his face. “Look, I don’t want ale right…” With one hand, Ozzy used his strength to forcefully open Kenan's mouth, and the other poured the liquid. Noctis struggled, he tried to use his Qi. But his broken body had other plans. He used mana, coaxed the fire behind Ozzy and attached it to the goliath's back.

The action was futile, because the gray man disappeared. Yet the fire still flew and swarmed Noctis’ head. His eyes burned as the orange grew brighter to a yellow. His head felt hot, the heat multiplied and traveled the length of his body. As the temperature apexed and the fire transformed to a blinding white, it released. His body was washed with a sudden coolness, and his back was pricked with hundreds of soft needles. The white diminished and softened all the way down to a singular, yellow round object surrounded by blue.

It took his mind sometime to piece together that he was looking at the sky. Longer to understand he was laying on grass. “Sorry for the aggressiveness. If I gave the mixture to you normally, you would’ve spit it out in disgust. That fire hurt too.” A voice said. Unfamiliar, young but had a certain gravel to it. Kenan jumped to his feet, or tried. The muscle failed, it felt like the strength was gone. He tried to use Qi, but that was missing too. No mana either. So he scrambled up and turned towards the voice.

A goliath sat cross legged. A young adult, maybe a little older. Goatee and fuzz on his head. He was almost unrecognizable with the hair, but the resemblance was there. This was Ozzy. Lines of stress, eyes of guilt, and the scars of battle were missed. In reaction, Kenan fumbled around for his blade, but couldn’t find it. Panic started. “Peace, Mortem. Nothing can harm you here, you have all the power.”

Through the immediate spike of adrenaline, Kenan managed to hold onto a solid line of thought. “Where are we?”

“Complicated question, much more of a convoluted answer. Our spirits have temporarily left the shell of our minds and have delved into your soul. This is why I’m speaking. As for the specific place in your soul. That is only something you know. I’m merely the observer and guide.”

“What do you mean? my soul?” Kenan looked around. His thoughts stopped as his gaze pinpointed a farmhouse. Unbroken, unfired, and at its peak condition. His home.