"Kyoya!"

He rocketed up, banging his head on something solid.

The boy felt hands on him—two pairs, one on his chest and back and the other on his head. His breaths were shallow and rapid, and his heart was nearing an explosive pulse.

Yet, when he opened his eyes, the sight of Sister Reika and Master Guran at his sides inspired more comfort than he ever knew he needed.

"What the hell happened in there!?" His master shook him, patting out flames on the boy's hair and clothing.

Finally making his spinning vision center in one place, it took a moment for him to completely gather his thoughts.

"Ugh, I... wait, I'm out! What even was that? You didn't tell me there'd be something like that in there—"

He stopped after taking notice of Reika's gaze.

"This is more serious than I'd like to admit, master. Look at him." She gestured to his face and torso, though he couldn't tell what they were looking at.

Guran's prismatic mirror manifested for just that, revealing to him his physical form having heavy burnmarks in the specified areas. His face was a grievous pale, and his eyes were dotted with streaks of bloodshot.

"Hmm... You are correct. It would appear that there's a clear reason for Fate's excitement with him: meaning that we've no right to keep him here, regardless of the duel's outcome. Though, he did succeed in confronting his emotions, all was not for nothing." The master took a heavy sigh.

"How long was I out for?" Kyoya took in his surroundings, noticing that they were in the commons. His body lay across a few stacked blankets.

"Almost twelve hours... How long did it feel like you were there?" The urgency in Reika's normally easygoing stare gave him chills, but now was no time to be hesitant. If anyone were to offer context as to just what he'd experienced, it was her.

"No more than twenty minutes."

"A dream in which you're able to physically experience sense in the waking world shouldn't be capable of distorting time like that... But there's still much we've yet to learn, so it's not surprising that something new has arisen." Reika looked to their master.

With a stern frown, the man took this chance to segue their topic.

"But we know that the laws of Reclaimers must be followed nonetheless. Kyoya!"

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"Sir!" The boy answered.

"The design of Fate has been clearly shown to us. You will battle Reika, and afterward, no matter the outcome, you must venture out in search of your own future. If the field has proven itself ripe, prepared itself for your harvest... In your own seasoned hand, must you embark on this journey. Put simply, neither I nor Reika have anything left to teach you. What lies ahead is for you and you alone to decide."

The boy had known his master for bluntness: his own spin on the stark unwillingness to state anything short of the cold, hard truth...

...and, yet, freedom had never felt so bittersweet.

"So... it's really time, huh?" Finally mustering the strength to stand, Kyoya did so with a purpose.

"I would say so, yes... And I'd rather you were off on the dawn of a new day than the same as you experienced something like that. So, meet me at the training grounds. We'll fight one last time and see you off at dawn tomorrow."

Reika patted Kyoya's shoulder as she took her leave. Outside, the afternoon sun was beginning to wane. Still vibrant enough for perfect lighting, but clearly not intending to stay that way.

He took a look at Guran, who motioned to the door.

"Don't keep a lady waiting, my boy. She's already having to deal with your leaving."

"...Run that by me again?"

"What she means to you is likely what you mean to her, if not more. She'd never thought she'd like having a foster brother, but look at things now: it will be a journey for all of us."

"Jeez, Gramps... Way to put a damper on it." The boy offered a light-hearted smile. "I'm headed out, then."

His determined smirk was met with the old-timer's thumbs up. Sunlight slammed into the boy as he headed out.

Only this time, nothing about it seemed as harsh as he'd remembered. It was warming, exciting, and even the slightest bit redeeming: it filled him with hope for the time he'd spent here being worthwhile.

He continued across the clearing, sneaking a glance back at the sundial. The gem he'd socketed had split down the middle.

Though there was no time for fear, now.

This was his time, and he wasn't going to let a nightmare of any proportion keep him from seeing this through.

At the edge of the clearing, another, larger one opened past the tree line, it's southern end overlooking a village in the plains. In said expanse rested their training ground. A flat plot of land, about 300 feet long and 150 feet wide.

In it's center stood Reika, though she'd changed clothes. This was a definite first beyond the daily routine.

She was wearing a combat uniform reminiscent of what he'd known to be mountain hunters' style, with deep crimson leather serving as the main fabric.

Her top fit well enough to be considered combat attire, as well as being both turtle-necked and long-sleeved. At her neck and wrists were rose-gold metal bracers. Her bottom was similarly styled, boasting a bracer fashioned like a belt and two additional sets at her knees and ankles.

The only thing that remained from her previous looks was the katana, whose scabbard was, as usual, buckled to her waist.

"Pleased to see you're wasting no time," she grinned.

For once, her demeanor wasn't any polar exaggeration of general feeling. What she showed felt like a challenge, her smirk igniting a competitor's urge deep within him—an aspect of his character that he knew too well would never fade.