Ark felt the pressure on his shoulders like heavy chains, dragging him down as he fought to maintain eye contact with the mirror image of himself, reflected off Alistor’s sunglasses. Even if the psychic energy had a hard time affecting him, the sheer force that Alistor could project was enough to make the air difficult to breathe.

“Am I wrong?” Ark said through clenched teeth, keeping his tone level and calm. “Whatever the mindweavers of the past did, why should I pay for their mistakes?” He tried to keep the voice in the back of his mind silent, despite its whispers of how he was already in bed with END, and whatever role it played in the battle for the Red Moon.

“Say it again.” Alistor slowly walked around the desk, facing Ark with teeth bared. “I told you to say it, Tiny. I dare you.”

Breath heavy, Ark straightened, rising to his full height—barely reaching Alistor’s chest. “You made a promise, Instructor, a commitment. If you’re going to turn on that, how are you any better than Ethan?”

He barely registered it when his feet left the floor. Hitting the wall hammered out the air in his lungs, and he gasped for breath. All Ark saw were the milky white eyes behind Alistor’s sunglasses—the full force of his unrestrained psychic energy hitting him square in the chest.

Despite how powerless he felt, Ark still noted how the energy dissipated when it touched him, like water evaporating into air on contact. Especially his left arm, which he could actually move in the face of the onslaught of telekinesis. Keeping it still, to conceal the fact, Ark watched as Alistor approached—veins bulging on his forehead from the effort of keeping Ark afloat in the air.

“You are a little shit,” Alistor said, his voice gravel, “But you’ve got balls, at least. You ask how I am better than Ethan?” He punctuated his sentence by invading Ark’s mind, disrupting his vision into a blurry mess of milky eyes and sharp teeth. “I am loyal to the one tenant that I still believe in: you keep your friends close—“

The mass of eyes and teeth moved closer, its breath hot on Ark’s face.

“—And potential enemies even closer,” he continued, his face an amalgamation of cold fury and deadly intent.

“Then… use… me…” Ark said, forcing out each word with both desperation and desire. He was in too deep, and knew there would be no turning back from this, however, a large part of him wanted exactly what he could offer Alistor; the perspective that he alone could achieve.

“What makes you think I need you?”

“You want… to know…” Fighting to get each word out, Ark kept looking into the mass of eyes, defying their monstrous presence. The guilt within them mirrored his own, along with a question that Ark had asked so many times he had gotten tired of the sound of it.

“I want to know what?” Alistor’s many mouths sneered in unison, eyes narrowing in a cacophony of distrust.

“Why…” Ark said, gasping, “You want to know… Why?”

The force upon him released in an instant, and he collapsed upon the ground, harking and choking for air as he oriented himself. Gone were the visions, yet his sight was swimming in unshed tears.

Kneeling down in front of Ark, Alistor had put his glasses on again, and he studied Ark through them, head tilted slightly to the side. “What do you mean?”

Swallowing, Ark took another breath before replying. “You want to know why Ethan did what he did. Use me, and I will learn why for you.”

Silence ruled the room. Alistor stared at Ark with a frown. “You know, you sound just like him—Ethan, that is. Always poking his nose where it didn’t belong, always asking ‘why’. You’re gonna figure out what happened—How?”

Shrugging, Ark closed his eyes and leaned back. Being compared to a traitor was not pleasant, but the pulsing daemon in Ark’s netlink reminded him that he might be closer to a traitor than he liked to think. “I will learn it, like I solved your task. If I say I will do it, then I will. Simple as that.”

“Simple as that, huh?” Alistor barked a laugh, “I knew I liked you, Kid.”

Opening one eye, Ark arched an eyebrow. “You like me? I figured you hated my guts.”

“That’s nothing personal,” Alistor said, waving away Ark’s confusion, “Your choice of profession offends me, but you carry it with pride—I can respect that.” He stood up and walked around his desk once more, sitting down. “And you’re not a coward—that’s important. I don’t work with cowards.”

Taking the opportunity to stand, Ark sat down opposite Alistor once more, feeling the change in the room along with Alistor’s demeanor. “You mean you’re gonna train me?”

“I’ve got nothing to lose,” Alistor said, shrugging as if he had not just thrown Ark against the wall in anger, “And you’re right: I do want to know why the mindweavers did what they did. Training a mindweaver of my own might help with that.”

Feeling relief wash over him, Ark smiled tentatively. “Where do we start?”

“What job did you accept at the NNS?” Alistor said immediately, throwing Ark off.

Blinking, Ark felt his jaw slowly dropping before he got control and said, “You know about that?”

“It’s a small guild, or at least this branch is small,” Alistor said with another shrug, “And Mallis knows better than to hide information from me. He would not even have told you about it if I had not approved of it.”

“That’s…” Ark felt strangely manipulated by the revelation, but decided there was no point in arguing. So he told Alistor about his job and skill.

“Conduit, huh?” Alistor said, stroking his chin, “A good choice. Most mindweavers went with the same option, although there were a few who went with the Scout template. And that skill is interesting… I’m guessing you’re betting on it when you and the Mule will fight the others?”

Gritting his teeth, Ark leaned forward and spoke in his most menacing tone. “His name is Mino, and he is worth more than any one in this entire guild.”

“Fine, fine,” Alistor sighed, “You and Mino, then. Is the skills all you have planned?”

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

Feeling less defensive, Ark hesitantly admitted to his deal with Harkon, and the weapon he was preparing.

“Interesting,” Alistor narrowed his eyes, studying Ark, “You’ve clearly thought this out. What do you think your odds are of success?”

“If we can keep it all secret,” Ark said, counting up the number of obstacles there were, “And if we can get the timing right over the next week, I’m guessing fifty-fifty.”

Nodding, Alistor stroked his chin, considering. “I’ll talk to Harkon about delivering the weapons directly to your room. If you take that thing out yourself, there’s no way the others won’t hear about it. As to the timing, I think I can help with that.”

“You can?” Ark blinked. The issue with his skill was that it demanded concentration, and he had been having trouble using it during his training with Mino.

“Sure, in fact, I insist on it. If you’re actually going to survive the riftrun, you’re going to need to be proficient in it, however…” He studied Ark, head tilting back and forth. “If I am going to take a risk on you, I’m going to need leverage. If you go crazy, like the mindweavers of old did, I need a weakness that I can exploit—something that can hurt you. If you can’t offer me something like that, then our deal is off.”

Licking his lips, Ark thought about the multitude of secrets he kept, or to offer to get something nasty implanted in his body, but in the end there was only one honest weakness that Ark knew would work, regardless of what happened.

Closing his eyes, Ark spoke hesitantly. “You should train Mino as well. No matter what happens, I will never hurt him—I can’t. If not for him, I would have died long ago. If all else fails, and I really go mad, train him to kill me. If it’s him, I won’t fight back.”

——

The following week went by in a flash, and the rhythm of life became almost peaceful, as Ark and Mino woke up every day and went to conditioning. Basic was covering the many aspects of the realm of Iskan that they needed to know, with Mallis leaving them copious amounts of homework to do in what little spare time they had. Weapons training was the only part of the day where Ark truly felt he excelled, as his aim got steadier and better as he went through exercises that tested both his accuracy and decision making.

They still trained on their own in the afternoon, but it was now followed by the brutal instruction from Alistor. The first time, Ark did not know what to expect, but Alistor laid it out in very simple terms.

“You’re still lacking firepower,” he said, after both Ark and Mino had showed what they had been working on, “Your skills make up for some of that, but they are not solutions. Pointing to Mino, he continued, “Even when you can get the enemy to attack you, you are too timid. You fight as if you’re afraid of hurting your opponent.”

Mino mumbled something inaudible, looking down at his feet. Ark felt the desire to speak up on his friend’s behalf, but knew better than to interrupt Alistor in the middle of his speech.

“We’re not playing sports, here,” Alistor said, tone harsh, “If not for yourself, then think of your teammates. If you do not crush the enemy in front of you, they will hurt those who rely on you to keep their back clear.”

Mino eyed Ark and his lips tightened into a line. Ark knew there was anger within his friend—he had seen it explode into violence at times—but Mino’s good nature was a strong lid tamping down that instinct.

“If you want to work on that, I can manipulate your emotions to induce anger,” Alistor said, “But I can only get it to surface; you need to learn how to control it. Do I have your consent?”

Mino looked from Alistor to Ark, hesitating. Ark knew that Mino had gone through this exact training before, back in the Maze. It had been a part of the effort to make him more effective as a fighter, and he knew how much his friend disliked having his emotions manipulated.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, Bud,” Ark said, walking over and placing a hand on Mino’s large arm.

“No…” Mino furrowed his brow, staring at Ark’s left arm, at the multitude of crystals embedded in the fragile skin. “I want to do it.”

“Excellent.” Alistor said, snapping his fingers. Ark felt the change immediately in his friend, as Mino began shaking, veins popping out across his neck and face. The soft look in his face turned from conflicted to constrained anger in an instant.

Backing away, Ark saw Mino change and felt the pit in his stomach grow wider; an endless hole for him to throw away everything he valued in pursuit of his goal.

Before Mino could act on the surging anger that so visibly affected him, Alistor snapped his fingers again and erected a virtual box around him. Its opaque surfaces made it impossible to see what was happening inside. “I’ll reverse what I’ve done after each session, or until you can control it. Until then, have fun.”

A moment later, an ear-shattering roar could be heard through the virtual box, and Ark felt the tremors in his feet as something heavy and angry hammered into the walls of the virtual box, smashing it with abandon.

“That’s a start,” Alistor said, sighing, “Now, let’s see what you can do.” He turned on Ark, who felt shivers run down his spine by the casual way the instructor had just turned his friend into a raging beast. Just how powerful was Alistor? Back in the Maze it had taken several psychics to perform the alterations that Alistor had just performed on a whim. Thinking back on the memory from the Red Moon, Ark remembered the feeling of how he had controlled the mental states of the riftwalkers, maintaining calm in the midst of battle, but this still felt different. This was not merely observing and calibrating—it was directly manipulating another’s emotions. It felt twisted and wrong in the way that psionic powers sometimes did.

“So… What am I supposed to do?” Ark said, hesitantly.

“Activate your skill,” Alistor said, studying his fingernails.

Ark called upon the skill from his netlink, experiencing the weird out-of-body sensations it caused, along with a nauseating change in perspective.

“Alright,” Alistor looked up from his hand with a bored expression on his face, “Now keep it up for as long as possible.” Then he took off his sunglasses, and Ark had the pleasure of another wave of psychic force pushed down onto his body and mind, twice over now.

After an hour of torture, Alistor left, sauntering back out with a wave, leaving both Ark and Mino on the floor of the training room, exhausted and drenched in sweat.

“That…” Mino said, gasping as he sat up after a few minutes of recovery, “Felt a lot like being back in the Maze.”

“Yeah, sorry about that” Ark said, his vision still swimming from the force of Alistor’s psychic manipulation, “It was my idea for him to train you as well. You can always back out, you know, I—“

“No,” Mino stopped Ark in the middle of his self-deprecating speech, “This is my choice. In the Maze I didn’t want to change, so they couldn’t make me, but now? We both know being nice isn’t enough to survive, and I’ve already failed to protect you once—never again. So, I gotta change, simple as that.”

Sitting up, Ark furrowed his brow, heart heavy in his chest. “You don’t have to change, Mino. There’s nothing wrong with being who you are.”

“There is, if it is holding us back,” Mino said, his jaw set with stubbornness. Looking at Ark, his big brown eyes were like pools of quiet conviction. “I will not fail again.”

Feeling a clump in his throat, Ark wanted to argue the point, but his friend had already stood up. “We should go eat. I’m hungry.”

Smiling, Ark agreed, “Yeah, let’s go eat.”

As he walked behind, following Mino’s broad back, Ark could not help but feel the uncertainty rising in his chest. Hera’s word’s rung in the back of his mind, warning him about how his ambitions would affect those he cared about. Had he gone too far this time?

He wanted to say that he was doing the right thing—what had to be done to succeed, but at what cost? If success came at the cost of his best friend’s most admirable nature, was it worth it?

Swallowing his doubt, at least for the day, Ark squared his shoulders and followed Mino out. Come what may, they had both made their choices. If someone had to pay for them in the end, Ark just hoped he would be the one.

The following day, Ark found an elongated box in his room with a note from Harkon. His fingers trembled as he tore open the packaging, fatigue still weighing on his limbs from yesterday’s training. As the lid creaked open, his breath caught. Inside, the weapon gleamed—sleek, deadly, and everything he had ever dreamed of. Harkon had kept his promise. Alistor had kept his word. Now, Ark had the firepower he had craved for so long. Tracing a finger along the cold steel, his thoughts swirled between hope and the darker part of him that wondered if even this would be enough. For now, it would have to do. He would make it work.