“Haaht!”

Legs spread shoulder-width apart. Front foot in one corner, back foot in the other. Point your toes slightly outward, and lift your heel-

Ana’s sword cleaved through the air in a precise, perfectly straight line. There was a small screech as the passing of the blade displaced the barest gust of wind.

Aside from that, there was nothing at all. No tremble, no disturbance.

Sweat trickled down her brow, and Ana breathed a sigh of relief. Her arms slid to her sides, and Ana felt the edge of her blade clink upon the cobblestones of the Manor Square.

“Perfect form,” Ana breathed, closing her eyes.

Finally.

It was the first step on any swordsman’s path: learning how to fight as perfectly as a regular man feasibly could. After awakening, she would have to then learn to fight as a warrior. The Guard-Captain seemed convinced she would cross the Third Layer and reach the arch-stages eventually - and Ana, with her burgeoning confidence, agreed. Perhaps one day, she would even be a demigod just like Lord Vernas himself.

Each Layer of core demanded a different style of fighting. A mortal fought with the strength of his arms and the traction of his feet upon the ground. Battle now would be a dance of dexterity and fine-tuned attacks. But eventually, she would be able to call the winds to her grasp with a flick of her sword and shatter stone with her strikes. The air itself would serve as the traction for her footsteps. Upon such an evolution, her style of fighting would, obviously, have to adapt to match her new physical parameters. And there were hundreds, if not thousands, of styles.

As such, all perfect meant now was that Ana had finished polishing the first cobblestone of her path to divinity.

She felt a twinge of frustration well in her. Lord Vernas had given her this task weeks ago, and only now had she been able to complete it.

No, Ana thought, shaking her head. That’s not right. Remember what you yourself told La- Everie.

I’ve got time. All I have to do is use it.

She had just raised her blade again, reassuming her form, when the sound of a sword being drawn disturbed her from behind.

Ana spun. And she slashed.

Her blade made scarcely a sound as it whistled through the air. It was a glorious arc of silver and steel, forged with the intent to-

Her foe blocked her strike easily, but Ana was already twisting, readying her blade again - this time in defense, in anticipation of a counter - before she stilled.

Duke Haswalth stared down at her from above, a bemused smile on his face. Ana’s eyes trailed down from his breastplate to his faulds; his blade was half drawn from its sheath, with the exposed bit of metal being what had blocked her strike.

Oh.

Ana dropped her blade, plummeting into a pose of uttermost obeisance. “I- I’m so sorry, sir! I was- I was just distracted, and then-”

“You were in the zone,” Haswalth said, tilting his head. “That’s... impressive. You’ve got a lot of clarity for someone your age, little one.”

She blinked, before swallowing. Right. This is a demigod, Ana. And... he’s Everie’s father. He’s not going to get mad because you happened to swing a flimsy stick of metal against him.

If it had even hit. The sword would have probably shattered against his skin anyway.

“Thank you, sir,” Ana said, straightening. She reached down, reclaiming her blade, then stood back up.

Then she appraised the man.

Duke Haswalth - no, Everie’s father... looked like an ordinary man. At least, aside from his nonstandard hair color, and his armor, and the shade of his eyes-

-well, I suppose he’s not so normal after all, she thought, grudgingly.

But he certainly had the demeanor of a regular man. In fact, the few times Ana had seen him when he was not standing in front of some crowd or ordering the servant-staff, Duke Haswalth had to her always resembled the tired men that had sat in the corners of the inns her father had frequented. Not drunk, for they felt they were too guilty to drink. But they were always drunk on self-pity and regret all the same.

“Younger than me, too,” the Duke mused. “Vernas really wasn’t lying. You’ve got some monstrous talent.”

Duke Haswalth narrowed his eyes. Ana swallowed.

“Just talent isn’t enough, though,” he said, frowning. “Like you’ve probably been suspecting, you’ll awaken your core soon. I can feel it - as a demigod, my Inner Eye is sensitive enough to sense the ether gathering within you. I can see the pressure your presence is exerting upon the world. It’ll be soon.”

She blinked. “Oh,” Ana said. She felt light-headed. “I see.”

“But there’s more,” the Duke said, holding up a finger, “I can sense a… resolve in you. With luck, you’ll awaken to your path, too. That’ll greatly accelerate your growth, and it’ll raise the chances of you reaching demigodhood the earlier you tread it.”

Ana stared at him. Haswalth stared back - at least for a few moments - before looking away, slightly flushed. He coughed awkwardly.

“I’m... sorry,” he said, sighing. “I’m not very good at this, am I?”

“That’s not true!” Ana exclaimed, suddenly. “You’re an excellent speaker, sir. I- I’ve seen you talk to your men. You-”

“-my men,” Haswalth muttered - though that mutter was more than enough to stymie Ana’s spiel. “Not family. My daughter.”

He swallowed. “My... wife,” he said, sighing. “How unfortunate.”

The Duke’s robes and armor rustled as he pivoted, turning to leave. “I apologize that you had to see me in this state, little one. I won’t disturb you again.”

Ana watched him go, perfectly still, before she finally blinked.

She was half-bemused. That had been the Duke of Medea that had just talked to her. Personally. Sure, she’d talked to him before... and, well, I suppose this shouldn’t be any more shocking than the other revelations I’ve had this year.

She was also half-contemplative. And brash, because her mouth was already opening to respond because what am I doing-

“Sir!” she shouted, and immediately felt like she wanted to puke from embarrassment, because what in the name of the Heroes am I doing? This is a Duke! Not Daphne. Not the other maids. Not even Everie. This is a man that owns a good eighth of Azer Luceras! He’s beyond you! He’s-

“-fine,” she finished. “Ever- Lady Everie doesn’t dislike you. And I’m sure the Duchess doesn’t, either.”

Haswalth stared at her.

“Whatever’s happened in the past, your lordship is capable of fixing it,” Ana sputtered. She felt foggy-headed. “I’m sure of it. Don’t-” she swallowed.

“Don’t let that chance go, sir,” she whispered.

Nearby, the leaves of the trees surrounding Ana’s tiny pocket of the square rustled, as if an invisible poltergeist had suddenly hushed.

Her stomach clenched painfully. The Duke was- he’s still looking at me. What- what do I-

Then Haswalth laughed.

It was a short bark of mirth, but it felt like hours to Ana.

Haswalth sighed. “First from my daughter that night, now from... you. I really do seek help in the oddest of places, don’t I?”

Ana swallowed. She opened her mouth to respond, only to stop when she realized the Duke- Everie’s father was looking at her.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I can see why Briar talks about you so much. You’re more than just a servant to my daughter, that I can see. It seems it really wasn’t a mistake to induct you into the Manor staff after all.”

“I-” Ana choked. “Thank you, my lord. Thank you so much.”

She meant it. There was an enigmatic emotion pulsating within her abdomen, and it felt really nice.

“I hear you’ve taken good care of my daughter too,” Haswalth said, chuckling. “At least, in the ways poor Daphne cannot. I understand her… struggles, to an extent, although I too think she is too young for them. Thank you for having that talk with her, by the way.”

Ana’s eyes widened. “You-”

“Of course I heard it,” the Duke said, tilting his head. “I may be diminished in spirit, but I remain an eighth-ceiling Breaker in form. My Inner Eye can span miles, should I let it.”

He walked forward, then kneeled down. All of a sudden, Ana was face-to-face with two violet-black stars, staring deep into her soul searchingly. Probingly. They were looking into her - through her for information even Ana knew of not in the very recesses of her neural channels.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Yes. You’ll find your path soon, little one.”

There was a manic glint to his eyes that made Ana both uncomfortable... and excited. She would have thought that odd, had Ana not been told by Lord Vernas numerous times that Haswalth had been a battle-crazed, strength-seeking, bellicose warrior in his youth.

It was hard to see when contrasted with the mild-mannered man most people saw, but that was clearly one of many fronts.

Duke Haswalth, she decided, was a man of very many layers, despite being unable to get through and into the layers and minds of those closest to him.

“Observant,” he said, tilting his head. “Quiet in your youth. But... fiercely loyal. A good servant, but that’s not right. And that sort of path wouldn’t realize your potential either.”

Haswalth blinked.

“You’re awfully Insightful for your age,” he whispered. “Maybe something to do with that? A-”

Then, all of a sudden, the pressure dropped away. Haswalth stood, leaving Ana swaying, dazed, in the same spot she’d been standing the entire time.

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Haswalth patted her on the head. Her ears were ringing. “Look after Everie,” he said. Then he was gone.

But before he left, the Duke - almost like an afternote, but with the fervor of a renewed man - whispered something.

Thank you.

----------------------------------------

“It’s time,” Lord Vernas declared.

He drew his blade soundlessly. Ana stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Everie - her master, savior, and... friend - sword already extended. She was the picture of stillness; probably because Ana was trembling inside.

Everie held hers casually. There was no motion in her; only concentration. Her eyes, however, glinted with wariness.

This was an opponent they could not possibly hope to beat. Good thing it’s just a spar, Ana winced.

“Start!”

They dashed forward, flanking the Guard-Captain. Neither Ana nor Everie had spoken a word; it was the best course of action, and both of them had trusted one another to take it.

Lord Vernas only had one blade, after all, and he had promised to keep himself to mortal speeds for this bout.

Of course, he parried both of them regardless with laughable ease. Ana felt her arm jerk back as if it had struck a brick wall.

“Good!” Vernas shouted.

Of course, he was still a fully-grown adult, and they were but children.

A few members of the Guard - men and women who had been faceless protectors to Ana when she had first arrived at the Manor, weeks earlier, but knew now almost intimately - who were watching their bout at the side of the field oohed. More were coming out of the barracks, trudging onto the Manor South-Square.

I’ve got this, Ana thought to herself.

Everie leapt over the Guard-Captain’s outstretched blade, employing what little magic she could use to blast herself off the cobblestones. Then she swung, down, twirling mid-air, as Ana stabbed at the Lord’s back.

Had he been an ordinary mortal, that should have by all rights been the end of the battle right there. He couldn’t attack them without getting hit on one side - which would mean their victory for the bout - and he couldn’t defend, either, for the same reason.

Of course, Lord Vernas was not an ordinary mortal. He wasn’t even ‘just’ a mage.

He was a demigod. A seventh-ceiling Breaker.

A man whose very existence scraped against the wall separating the mortal from the divine.

Sparks danced and flame festered as Lord Vernas swung his blade.

A thirty-meter long lance of ghost-fire erupted from his blade. Ana barely dodged it; she could even feel the illusory blaze lap against her skin in rivulets of heat-energy.

Ghost-fire, as Lord Vernas had named it, was merely an artificially induced ether-phosphation technique, meant to generate faux-fire for training purposes. Had the slightest hint of his real flames been released, they would have vaporized the entire training square and probably the barracks behind it as well.

...Good thing it’s just a spar, Ana winced.

The world really is a vast, vast place, if men like the Guard- Captain can exist in it. I would be ignorant still, should I be residing in Alerich yet.

Had she lived in Alerich, she would have never once sought the flame.

Now, I fight for it with all my life.

She ducked beneath another gout of flames, watching Everie do the same in her peripheral vision.

Fire erupted all around her, but Ana was already gone, sidestepping left and neatly dodging the radius of the blast. She hadn’t even looked in the direction of the Guard-Captain to anticipate the attack; it had come to her like a sixth sense.

Lord Vernas swung leisurely, sending yet another wave of heat blasting towards her. It swept low, surging towards at first Ana’s ankles in a tidal wave of molten fire. But the flames continued to efflux from the Guard-Captain’s blade, adding to the bulk of the existing deluge.

Soon, there was nowhere left for her to run; red encompassed the entirety of her vision. By all rights, that was where the battle should have finished, like it had so many times before.

Should have finished. But this time was different. This time, after the countless bouts she’d had before - the innumerable times she had practiced this very same move, in anticipation of this particular attack - Ana was ready.

She jumped...

And Ana soared.

Strength erupted from her legs and hips, and Ana erupted out of the cobblestones surrounding her in a line of rippling fabric - the glint of her blade, still extended, streaked like silver across the canvas of the sky.

It was beyond what she should have been capable of. Mortal man was, after all, doomed to be tethered to earth - some more than others. That was where the folk-saying - work in the earth, dream in the skies - came from.

Ana rejected that statement. Ether pulsed into her legs, and she rode the geyser of hot air that emanated from Vernas’ strike. She broke from her shackles, rocketing into the sky. The vista of red that had been about to assault her only moments before dropped away, replaced instead by a sea of azure.

She breathed, and strength filled her lungs.

Ana grinned. Before, she would have felt tired at this point in her regular bouts with either the Guard-Captain or the other guardsmen. But now?

Ana felt strong like never before. Energy literally reverberated throughout her body; rippling waves of power emanating throughout the invisible channels of her body.

It wasn’t just physical, either. Everything seemed... heightened. From the currents of the air parting as she fell and the sound of the flames crackling beneath her, there was suddenly something more. Something beneath.

And most of all... Ana felt something blossom within her. At first, it was but a throbbing sensation in her abdomen, from which the vastness of her newfound strength seemed to originate from. But soon - in mere seconds - it hardened. Cooled, in the crucible of energy that caressed it.

Ana flexed her new core, and her Inner Eye blossomed.

“HA!” Ana shrieked, flailing wildly. The dreamy sensation that had overwhelmed her was suddenly stripped away, and now, as she plummeted fifty feet down to the singed cobblestones below, Ana screamed.

Shit! She yelped. The slur escaped her before she could restrain it - Everie’s really been a bad influence on me - but at the moment, Ana couldn’t care less.

Ana paused. She supposed she was a mage now. With this development, Ana had now successfully tread the first few steps on the Path of the Breaker. It was the culmination of weeks of effort - everything she’d absorbed from the Guard-Captain’s teachings, her bouts with the guardsmen, and what little she’d managed to learn from Daphne. And her awakening wasn’t without benefits, either: that earlier surge of magic had been what allowed her to escape the Lord’s massive attack, even with the assistance of the draft that his ghostfire had generated. Ana could even sense she was stronger now due to the ether infusing her bones, even passively.

But as Everie’s servant, Ana knew better than anyone that just being able to use ether didn’t mean one could use it effectively. Most Breakers took weeks, if not months, to learn to utilize their new strength properly; even Ana, despite her talent, would have to learn the arts of literalization to fully utilize her strength.

And with recent developments, Ana had also learned there were also special cases like her... friend, who were unable to utilize ether for a multitude of reasons, even if they had a powerful understanding of not only the internal circulation required for literalization, thus the Path of the Breaker, but also the algorithmic insight stipulated by actualization, or the Path of the Chanter. Ana could already sense she wouldn’t be like that, but it was a troubling thought.

“AAAAGH!”

So. There she was, about two seconds from going splat on the Manor’s South Square. In full view of half the Manor’s security detail.

In retrospect, it was likely Lord Vernas would have saved her regardless of what she did next, which meant she’d never been in any danger at all. But at that moment, she hadn’t known that. The thought of impending death alone was enough for Ana to act.

And act she did.

Ana watched, from the corner of her inner eye, as Everie blasted away the flames that had just been about to engulf her with a shockwave of raw, untethered magic. But the majority of her focus was elsewhere - desperately concentrating ether into her blade. She’d tried milliseconds before to transfer power to her legs, but when that proved difficult, Ana resorted to strengthening what she knew best.

This sword is my way of life. It is my oath.

She screamed. It was ghostfire - that she knew - but Ana thought she could feel the heat nevertheless. It felt almost agonizing. It would not hurt her, but the phantom sensation was a potent equivalent.

My oath is the road I tread. My duty.

Less than a second ‘till she struck the ground. The air around her seemed to tremble with anticipation.

My duty is the way I cleave. My sword.

The Medean oath, Ana thought. I know the next line.

“My sword guards, my duty cleaves, and my oath binds my soul and I to the Great House of Medea, who I swear to guard evermore.”

I know these words. I’ve read these very lines dozens of times, weeks back when I was trying to get into the Guard.

What... what is this?

What is the meaning of this?

Is my path one of servitude after all?

The world stilled once more. With her Inner Eye, Ana saw everything - even the flow of ether around her. She saw the ether of the Guardsmen, honed to be strong. She saw Lord Vernas’ - a raging bonfire that seemed to blot out the sun. And there was Lady Everie’s: a ball of energy that seemed almost perfect, and infinite, but different from that of Lord Vernas. She looked almost like something that should be entirely untouchable.

None of them mattered. Now, there was only her power and Ana herself.

No, Ana thought, fiercely. That... that’s not right. I know that already.

My path is different than that. It’s greater than that.

She hadn’t been able, or even willing, to address that fact at first. After all, Ana had been a peasant child. A refugee. Someone that was rescued.

People that did the rescuing were heroes. Someone like her, who’d never had ambition in the first place... she was better off relegated to the footnotes of greater legends.

But that was Anabellum talking. Her old, weak, uninterested self. Not her. Not Ana.

Never again.

And then she saw it.

She seized it. Ana swung her sword.

There was no tell-tale glow, or shockwave, or any of the flashy technique characteristic of most mages. All that was left of the ghostfire billowing from Lord Vernas’ outstretched blade were a few wisps of flame... and a gaping maw of nothingness in-between them.

Ana felt the tips of her toes touch the ground, and she let herself settle atop the floor of the square. All of her momentum had been killed - cut - in the instant she’d swung her sword.

Her blade came to rest by her side, and Ana stood stock-still in the silence. She breathed.

Bang, she whispered.

Then, as if a great schism had suddenly erupted, air rushed back into the area Ana had just cleaved. The whistling overtook the entire Square, ruffling the clothes of everyone watching. With a spectacular boom, ether rushed back into the deadzone Ana had created, and there was silence once more.

Seconds passed. Ana shivered. She breathed, throat raspy, as her arms began to tremble.

I- she shuddered. Did I just-

Ana chuckled under her breath - a faint noise. Her blade clattered to the floor, and Ana toppled backwards. She tried to move her arms to brace her fall, but unconsciousness overtook her, and-

Strong arms caught her. Ana cracked open a bleary eye, feeling weariness sweep over her. She felt drained in a way like she’d never been before.

“You did good, Ana,” the Guard-Captain whispered. There was a smile on his face, but it was nothing like the expressions of manic glee Ana had come to expect during their training sessions.

No. Vernas now could have been the picture of calmness. His expression was completely blank, with not even a hint of emotion making itself known on his visage.

But... there was a twinkling of something in his eyes. They were... somber? No. Wary?

Ana could hear cheers ring all across the Square, as the guardsmen roared. She winced; the sound was just so loud, and it hurt, and it-

The sound almost vanished, dampened by a massive presence. Ana looked up at the Lord once more, who looked down at her, too, with that same enigmatic expression.

“Don’t worry,” he hushed. “They’re just excited for you, Ana. Little hero that you are.”

Her eyes widened.

“Sleep, now,” Vernas said, still smiling. “And you don’t call me ‘lord’ from now on. Now, we’re both warriors, treading the same path.”

Oh. I know what it is. It’s respect.

The muscles of her face twitched. Ana felt something wet tickle the crevices of her cheeks.

“Ana! Ana, are you-”

She turned, and was greeted by the sight of Everie, still dressed in those oddly fine training clothes of hers that had been tailored down specially to fit her size, frozen mid-rush towards her.

“Oh.” Everie said.

Ana couldn’t help it. She smiled - really smiled - for the first time since Alerich. And then, feeling joy bubble in her sternum above her empty core, Ana let it all out and laughed.

I did it.

I really did it.

“I did it,” she gasped. “I really did it.”

It was like a haze had been lifted from her. Ana felt lighter. The weight of her physical form felt less burdensome. Not even her awakening had made her feel like this; that had been a temporary reprieve, at best, before the weight of her past had the opportunity to adjust its weight to drag her down once more.

Now, all of that was gone. Now, she had a road to walk. An oath to read. A sword to wield.

Ana knew now that her Path, though only slightly explored, lay in the very concept of a Path itself.

“Congratulations,” Vernas whispered. “Welcome to the club-”

He opened his mouth, and spoke the name that Ana sensed had been engraved upon her soul.

-Pathfinder.”

Ana was still laughing when she finally passed out.