"Teacher," the boy said uncertainly, "I'm not sure how this relates to what the Keeper did. How can Memory create fire, or move earth?"

Eurya gestured to the Keeper, who answered, "There are two general techniques involving Memory manipulation. The first is resonance, as you already know. The second is what I used to create our fire. It is called casting."

"Casting," the boy repeated, tasting the word.

"Yes." The Keeper nodded. "To put it simply: if resonance is using Memory to empower yourself, then casting is pushing Memory out, to affect the world around you." He raised his hand, and fire sprang forth, coating the surface of his skin. He whipped it outwards, and a wave of flames scorched the red sands, leaving them crystallized and glittering.

"I know fire," the Keeper said. "I've experienced it. I've created it with my own two hands. I can take that Memory, and cast it out onto the world. Memory shapes the world, thus, fire is born." He shrugged. "Of course, it's more complicated than that, but the basic idea is there."

"You won't find many casters within the Kingdoms of Athun," his teacher noted, shaking her head. Her face was filled with contempt. "The All-Kings believe it to be a weaker form of Memory manipulation, as the caster must survive many dangerous experiences, in order to have the Memory necessary for warfare. It's riskier, but powerful."

"I'll be teaching you casting," the Keeper added. "You already have experience with resonance, but I'm sure Eurya will refine your technique."

The boy perked up at that. "When will I learn to summon fire?"

The Keeper clicked his tongue. "Mountains are climbed one step at a time, Nicos. You'll learn it once you are ready."

The boy didn't pout. He was too old to pout. He did, however, cross his arms and scowl.

"Patience." His teacher's voice was unsympathetic.

He nodded, sullenly. "What will I be learning tonight?"

"It's like he said." Eurya jerked her thumb towards her companion. "I'll be refining your resonance. Your family's technique is one of the more technically advanced methods of Memory manipulation that I've ever come across"—the boy puffed out his chest—"but your foundation is extremely lacking."

And then deflated almost immediately.

"But teacher," he protested, "if my technique is so advanced, how can my foundation be poor?"

"I didn't say your technique is advanced," she replied, poking him in the cheek for emphasis. "Your family's technique, the principles behind it, and the philosophy that drives it, stands near the peak of this little corner of the world. You, however, are a baby, barely dipping your feet at the edge of a vast ocean. And still, that puts you well above your peers. Once you learn to paddle, you might actually be a force worth mentioning."

As with so many of Eurya's backhanded compliments, the boy had no idea how to react.

She continued, "Any warrior worth a damn should be able to use resonance for more than enhancing a single strike. Your focus is too narrow. Used at its most basic, resonance is simply a method of... enhancing aspects of yourself. You can become more than you are, or rather, a more perfect version of yourself. Your weaknesses fade, and your strengths become indomitable."

She examined the boy with a critical eye. "You've experienced this, once or twice, when using that blade art of yours. Your new goal is to maintain that state when not swinging your sword. That strength, that speed, that confidence you felt when you came at me in that meadow with murder in your eyes? That is your new baseline. Until you can maintain that at all times, you'll train in no other Memory techniques."

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"But that's impossible!" the boy immediately cried. "That strength is not mine! I borrowed it from my ancestors! My family's techniques only work in specific moments of battle. How can I reach the Memory of my ancestors outside of battle?" That was the entire point of his family's style. They all practiced the same techniques, with the same goals, and the same mindsets. It placed them into an almost meditative state in battle, which was the only reason they could access the Memory of those who had long passed.

But Eurya clicked her tongue with disappointment. "You already have the strength of your ancestors. I've explained this. Their power resides within you, ready to be tapped. The true achievement of your family's style is not something so simple as increased strength or speed. It's something deeper than that."

"What is it?" the boy almost demanded, eagerly looking up at her.

She cocked her head. "Can you maintain that resonance state yet, boy? No? Then why are you asking me about other techniques."

He scowled, and kicked at the dirt in front of him.

Eurya laughed. "Don't be so disappointed. I am your teacher, yes? And I am much, much smarter than you. So believe me when I say that you'll reach that point, eventually. For now, you'll focus on something simpler."

"I don't even know where to start," the boy muttered.

"The answer to that is simple." Eurya swiped her foot across the ground, clearing a patch of smooth earth. She sat down, her posture lazy and relaxed. "The first thing you should learn, is how to stay awake."

"What?"

Her fangs glinted in the light of the campfire. "It's the simplest Memory to resonate with. You've practiced it more than anything else in your life. From now on, restful sleep is but a Memory. Use it to maintain yourself, but keep those eyes open. The night's watch is now your responsibility." She splayed out, prone, and smiled cheerfully up at him. "Don't get eaten."

The boy quickly discovered the reason for the campfire. Night fell, and the darkness had never seemed more intimidating. Selene had turned her bright gaze elsewhere, and the monsters of the Red Barrens roamed far and wide. He could hear the howls of hunters and cries of prey, echoing across the landscape. He could hear the footfalls of padded feet, and quiet rustling of fur. For the first time since they'd set out, the boy saw eyes staring back at him from the black.

They feared the fire, and the light it cast. He used that, keeping his back against the elevated pillar, and resting below the fire. At first, adrenaline kept him awake. The constant edge of fear that tingled against his mind. The constant whisper that, should his attention waver, they would know it. They would sense it, and they would strike.

The first three nights were spent in a haze of barely controlled panic. He had no idea how the Keeper and Eurya could sleep so easily, while he alone kept watch. Nor could he understand why the creatures of the night had suddenly decided to make their presence known. Nevertheless, he did his duty. The creatures prowled, and he kept watch, ready to leap to the defense of his teacher, should the beasts make their move. He kept himself planted against the fire, steadily staring into the dark, as weariness wore away at the edges of his consciousness. Things needed to change. He needed a new plan.

On the fourth night, he tried something new.

The boy had trained from dawn to dusk, almost every day, for the majority of his life. It was tiring, backbreaking work. It was painful, and repetitive, and boring. But every day, he rose up, filled with energy, and practiced until he dropped. That Memory defined him. It was his, something he created with his own actions.

He pulled on it, drawing the experience into himself, the same way he drew on his ancestors'. He had only the barest hint of an idea, only the faintest clue of what he was doing. He fumbled in the darkness, literally and metaphorically, feeling out his half-baked idea. He trained in the mornings. It was a fact. He would wake, fully rested, and train. When he started his training, he was awake.

The boy lifted his sword, fell into his stance, and started to train. He had no evertree, but he had his Memory. He had no meadow, but he had his Memory. He had no father, but he had his Memory. He trained, and he was awake. Each motion, each swing of the sword, let him pull those Memories deeper, let them empower him further. The same principles behind his family's technique, he used now, to stay conscious, to stay focused. It was what he knew, just a new application. It didn't fail him, now.

The Twins peaked over the horizon, after a long night of training. The boy was exhausted, his muscles ached, his body was weary. But he was awake. He had lasted the night. When Eurya woke, climbing to her feet to face him, she took in his state with a glance.

"An interesting solution," she noted. The woman turned east, facing their path of travel, then glanced back to him. "But can you maintain it?" She set off without waiting for an answer. The Keeper followed behind her, pausing long enough to grace the boy with an expectant smile.

The boy sighed, then lifted his sword. Time to see if he could train while walking.