Arim half expected the onslaught of the remnants of both armies to be worse, but after Stein and his notable white hair disappeared, the horde seemed to lose its vigor. They still had to deal with the Reverie fanatics and those from Gen's forces who knew the white haired boy was associated with One-Eye's group, but it was still better than he expected.

When Annora arrived it got even easier. The woman's armor stood out even more than Stein's hair, and she used that to draw all the attention to herself.

Arim found her fighting style fascinating, as it seemed wholly original in his eyes. He knew nearly two dozen forms, yet hers was unlike any of them. High level fighting techniques emphasized carrying a light load as excess equipment was thought to weigh one down without many practical benefits.

Annora's style flew in the face of that, wearing armor thick enough you'd think you were looking at a golem and wielding a tower shield and greatsword, both of which were about equal to her height. The idea behind her style was elegantly simple; she ate every attack that came her way and cleaved a path forward with that oversized blade.

Arim stepped back the line when it was clear that there was nobody among the rabble that could match her. He knew he should leave her to do what she did best, something was coming he knew he was better equipped to handle.

He stepped through the woods, looking for the area he felt it most likely she would appear. As he was searching he saw a shadow dart past him, leaving a gust in its wake.

If Annora is at the front then at least Zeph should have caught up with Stein, and I'd bet he's not alone. They should be able to handle that, I hope.

Arim turned away from the shadow and saw the person he had expected standing, waiting for him to notice her. Her outfit was splattered with all the marks of one who wades through war, and she had managed to replace the weapons she had started with. In their place was a war maul with two blunt sides slung across her back and the scimitar she was currently bouncing on her shoulder.

"Hello Samantha," Arim said politely.

"Oh I am so going to make you regret that," She replied with a dark chuckle.

"Thought you liked the kid?"

"I do. But the teachings of Reverie are the only reason I've survived some of the worst times in my life. I'm not about to change my beliefs on a whim just because of some ballsy kid I barely know."

"And here I thought you might be distancing yourself from the faith. I do presume that's why you abandoned your fellow believers."

"Sounds like you've got it all figured out, old man."

"That village wasn't burned down by Irving or Gen, was it? It was your people, intent on creating this exact situation. A battle ferocious enough to attract the attention of your beloved patron. But you didn't care for the plan much, so you left. Mind if I ask why?"

Sam scowled, "Those bastards thought nothing of the lives they trampled to achieve their goal."

"Seems kind of hypocritical, isn't that also what you do by seeking out war?"

"I seek a contest of the willing. Those who live by the sword die by it. I do not condone the involvement of innocents in games of death."

"You don't think that makes Stein exempt too? He was your ally, and now you'd turn your blade on him?"

"...He knows the stakes, the rules. I don't like this, but it doesn't change anything." She sighed, "I just wish that guy up there was a little more principled. I had always imagined him being more stoic." Reverie was still chattering away in the background, rooting for the outcome of some fight, but they both were doing their best to filter him out.

"Well, as long as you're sure you won't regret this."

She gave a wide smile, "If nothing else I'll get a decent fight out of this. Of everyone in your group, you're the one person I couldn't get a good read on. I look forward to seeing what you can do, old man."

"Very well, let's see what you've got, Samantha."

***

Sam didn't waste any time, "Domain expansion, Inner World." She didn't care much for testing the waters, she liked ramping it up immediately.

Inner World is the most basic domain technique. It projects the idea of a space that represents that person's state of mind onto the domain. That idea can be a specific location or a general concept. Sam's Inner World is a ship on stormy seas.

Sam felt the waves shake the ship back and forth, the wind threatened to whip her off her feet, the rain pelted her hair. The trees seemed to become masts, and she saw lightning flicker in the distance.

From an outsider's perspective, none of these things could be perceived except the unnatural moisture accumulating on the trunks of trees and the leaves that seemed to flutter as though they were within a localized hurricane. Domain effects were rarely represented physically, and only those that were required to maintain the idea of that reality were manifested in Inner World.

"Quite the interesting setting!" Arim had to yell over the sound of the tempest.

Sam didn't feel like wasting any more time on words. She dashed forward, finding the swaying of the deck to be much more familiar territory than the solid ground.

Arim adopted some kind of stance as he went on the defensive. Sam knew he was supposed to be some kind of big shot swordmaster, but on her home territory that wouldn't matter.

As she expected, his footing was all wrong as he blocked her first blow. She kicked his leg and it slid upon the wet ground, bringing him to his knees. Sam pushed her sword down harder. She was far stronger than him and she knew it. As long as she could keep this a contest of strength then she'd win.

A rogue wave smashed against the side of the imaginary ship, sending them both tumbling. They slid across the deck, scrambling for something to grab onto. Arim managed to catch hold of a tree while Sam slid a little more before the ship righted itself.

Sam's Inner World is a chaotic and disorienting experience that blurred fiction and reality. Yet it seemed to barely phase Arim. Most people panicked or lost their sense of balance almost immediately, but not this old man. He simply took it in stride, displaying no outward sense of unease or nausea at the sensation of being on the high seas.

I guess that's just the mark of the strong.

Arim shifted his stance as Sam rushed him again. This time when he parried he kept his footing, neatly sliding to Sam's left along the damp ground.

A different sword style, huh?

Sam smiled ferociously and pressed the assault. She was confident no land based style of swordsmanship could best her here.

And yet it did. Arim parried blow after blow and managed to keep his footing. Hell, it seemed as though he was getting better as the fight was drawn out. The more familiar he got with the environment, the more Sam felt an odd tugging in the back of her mind, like a memory she had forgotten. As her excitement rose another wave crashed, sending them both sliding. Neither of them lost their feet this time.

"You spend time at sea or something? I didn't expect someone who's spent their life on the ground to be able to adapt to this environment!" She yelled over the storm, the glee evident in her voice.

"I learned the basics of the Bolisian navy's fighting style years ago. It never made much sense to me then, but I'm finally starting to get it."

She frowned, his words again sparking some forgotten memory.

"I'm guessing you were originally a pirate. This Inner World of yours is a tell, but that fighting style gives it away for sure."

"What of it?"

"Well, you should know the Bolisian navy specializes in dealing with pirates."

Then she remembered. It was a day at sea nearly as stormy as her Inner World. Their small fleet of three ships had come across a single navy vessel. They thought it would be easy pickings. They were wrong. In the end, half the crew was dead and one of the vessels had to be abandoned. Still, it wasn't all bad. It had led to opportunities.

"So what if I was a pirate? You think less of me for being an outlaw?" She was used to this. As soon as anybody knew, she was ostracized. The only people who had ever treated her the same were the followers of Reverie. With them, the only thing that mattered was how well you could fight.

Stolen story; please report.

"No. I know not all criminals wanted to end up that way. Ending up on the wrong side of the law doesn't make you evil, Samantha."

"Hah! So you think you can judge me, huh? Let's see if you still think that way when I crush your bones!" She took the war maul out of the sling on her back, anger and exhilaration raging in conjunction in her mind.

Sam held the war maul loosely in her left hand while keeping the scimitar in her right. With her brute strength and reinforcement, it was easy to use both at once. And yet she stayed still.

After several moments of inaction Arim looked at her, confused. "Waiting for something?"

"Storms are funny things. Their intensity can rise and fall like the tide. Natural storms, that is. Unfortunately, this storm isn't natural. After all, it's no fun if we don't keep ramping things up!" She laughed as she watched Arim realize what she meant.

The lightning that had once flickered in the distance now raged above their heads. The waves that had rocked the ship had become towering giants. The illusion of them was strong enough that Arim could see them as though they were real.

The first of the waves crashed into and onto the ship. The flood of illusory water cascaded over the deck with the full might of nature. Sam saw it coming and braced herself against a tree. Arim was caught by surprise and the sheer power of the wave sent him flying into a tree.

When the water washed away she rushed him, swinging with the scimitar. He scrambled behind the tree he had crashed into trying to avoid her blade.

Turning, she brought the war maul around and smashed it into the tree, no, the mast. She knew how much force it took to cleave through a mast, she'd done it more than once. A thick tree was generally much sturdier than a mast, but since the domain forced the environment to replicate the Inner World, she cleaved through the tree without issue.

As the mast broke the wind blowing at her back caught the sail, pulling the tree down on Arim. He scurried out from under the tree, seeking the cover of another tree. Again she destroyed the mast. Again he scurried away.

After she plowed through the fourth tree in pursuit of him the lightning started going into a frenzy. It struck the tree even as it fell, blasting it into splinters.

Sam had to raise an arm to protect her face from the wooden fragments. This was always the point where the Inner World started to get out of control. If she allowed this to continue much longer there would be waterspouts. Even Sam wasn't sure what would happen if one of those collided with the ship. She didn't really want to find out.

She looked through the torrential rain at Arim, who had taken her moment of hesitation to compose himself. He stood several steps away from her, the wind whipping against his clothes so hard it seemed likely to take him away.

Something in his stance told her he didn't want this to drag on much longer either. He started taking slow, measured steps toward her and for the first time in today's battle, she took a defensive stance.

Arim raised his sword as he walked on the unsteady ground so its point faced her. Then he tossed it skyward. She glanced at the sword flying through the air, not understanding what purpose it served. Then with a tremendous bang, the world turned white.

What?

It was only when she felt a fist crash into her jaw that she understood.

He used my own projection against me. He knew lightning would strike his sword when he did that, and he predicted I would be dumb enough to look. Damn, that's good.

Still blind, she swung her scimitar in a wild slash in front of her. Even as she registered that she missed she felt the back of a boot smash into the side of her head.

It was then that the second towering wave washed over the ship, sending them both flying. Sam found herself thrown into the branches of one of the trees she had felled. She blinked, trying to restore her sight before Arim got another chance. Gradually her vision returned in hazy shades of gray as she extricated herself from the branches.

"You really don't have any control over this, do you?!" Arim shouted at her, barely able to keep his feet. His sword was gone, washed away somewhere, or maybe blasted into slag.

"Fun, isn't it?!" She shouted back. Looking to the side she could see a waterspout forming.

"Sorry, but it's gotten a little outside my comfort zone!" She laughed at his figure being tossed about by the wind. Her laughter was cut short when she heard him say in a voice that seemed to cut through the wind, "Domain Expansion, Inner World."

He wants a clash? Against this?!

Domains and domain effects could generally exist in tandem so long as their effects didn't cancel each other out. Inner World is an exception to that.

Two Inner Worlds cannot exist simultaneously. When pitted against the other they clash, and the one with the stronger conceptual strength consumes the other and reigns over both domains. It is not a matter of the perceived strength the projection bestows upon is caster, but how strongly the casters can envision their worlds.

Sam's conceptual Inner World grew stronger over time, seeming to develop a will of its own. Storms were naturally things humans had no power over, so her lack of control lent credibility and realism to the concept. Hence why the effects within that space became more and more intense over time. To try and overwrite it at this point was insanity.

She felt his domain overlap with hers, then felt a slight pressure in the back of her mind as the concepts were weighed against each other.

She felt the tiniest strain in the flow of her mana before her illusion shattered. The world righted itself in an instant. The searing light from the lightning disappeared. The wind stopped, no, it was like it had never existed to begin with. The droplets of water on the trees were the only thing that remained after her Inner World was destroyed, but even they were evaporated in an instant.

The world burned.

The trees were as torches and the steam from the water blinded her again momentarily. When it cleared she looked around and saw burning houses among the trees. It only took her a moment to realize that they weren't just houses, they were the houses from the village she grew up in.

"Sam…" She whirled as she heard a voice that couldn't be there, that couldn't exist.

As she turned she saw her home. The flames poured out of the windows, and she saw the furniture burning within. Sitting on a chair beyond the entrance there sat a burned husk, the body of a boy no older than 11. Even as she watched it crumbled to ash.

"Sam…" Still she heard his voice. Among this orange world, this burning hell, she felt fear.

She turned back to Arim, but in his place was something inhuman. It retained its human shape, but the look in those eyes was so far beyond rage she thought it must be an emotion only one who had been cursed could possess. Flames scathed its body, burning skin and making the flesh bubble beneath.

She didn't know how long it had been since she had last felt fear. Years, at least. But here, now, faced with this burning incarnation of wrath, she was terrified.

"Sam…"

It moved with a speed she had never before seen. In an instant, it had grabbed her by the neck and lifted her into the air as if she weighed nothing. She gazed into those eyes and felt her terror compound upon itself. The hand wrapped around her neck scorched her skin. She looked away, unable to bring herself to look into those eyes any longer. Her weapons fell from her hands as she lost the will to hold them.

"...Surrender."

The hell dissipated in an instant. The orange overtone disappeared. The intense heat from around her faded to cool autumn air.

"I surrender, " She repeated, still too afraid to look back at the thing that still held her.

She felt herself be lowered to the ground. The hand around her neck released her and her knees instantly gave out.

"I know," Arim said.

She looked up and saw him there, standing over her. Gone was the monster, that terrible thing that she knew would haunt her dreams. In its place was Arim, skin scorched and blackened. She looked within his eyes, afraid that monster would still linger within, but all she saw was a deep sorrow. It seemed to complement the wrath that had been there before, as both were far more profound than she ever cared to know.

With a long sigh, he turned and limped away. When he reached a tree a few paces away he leaned against it and sat down.

Taking a look around Sam realized that the entire area around them seemed to have been the site of a forest fire. Gone were the orange and red leaves of fall, replaced with ash and the burned trunks of trees.

It was insane to her how deeply rooted the concept of that world must be for him. Over the course of several minutes, her Inner World had left water on the trees and made everything damp, with the occasional lightning strike. Over the course of 30 seconds, his Inner World had reduced this entire area of forest to ashes and charred wood.

It was that realization that rekindled a bit of her anger, "You ass. You kept me going that entire time thinking it was a fair fight when you could have won at any time."

He gave a little shrug with a smile, "It's not very nice to ruin someone's fun so quickly, you know."

"Oh, aren't you such a gentleman."

She felt around her neck where her skin was burned. It felt like ice to touch, so she assumed it was burned enough that she would need a healer. She grabbed her war maul and slung it across her back, then sheathed her scimitar.

Standing, she sighed and said, "Well, you win so I guess I'll be off."

"Where ya going?"

"Dunno. This place is wholly fucked so I'll need a new gig."

"You could stay you know?"

She scoffed, "Your leader seems like a great guy, but I highly doubt he'd take back traitors."

"Who says you're a traitor?"

She eyed him, "You can't be serious."

He shrugged again.

"Even if you did vouch for me, why would he ever believe a follower of Reverie could be trusted after this whole thing?"

"He probably won't."

"Then why bother?"

"Cause I know you got nowhere else to go."

She looked off into the distance, confused. This man she had tried to kill was offering to not report her trying to kill him, and even offering to vouch for her. She didn't get it. But most of all, "You scare me." She said it in a small voice, one that he could barely hear. He nodded, a sad look on his face.

She thought for a minute then asked, "Why would you trust me?"

"I can always tell the character of people who visit my Inner World. Those who are so far removed from the concept of morality aren't phased by it. It shook you. That's how I know for sure you still have a good heart, Samantha."

She gave a soft laugh, "I still hate it when people call me that."

"I was taught to treat women who deserve it with respect."

"Only the ones who deserve it, huh? Perhaps you're only half a gentleman after all. Alright, we'll do it your way."

"Great. Can you help me up?"

"You know if you wanted to regain your gentleman certification you would be the one escorting me."

"Please help me up before my scabs harden in this position," He says with a grimace.

"Oh, right."

"Also, stop calling me old, please. I'm only in my late thirties."

"Only if you stop calling me Samantha."

"Well, that's not happening."

"As you wish, old man."

"Damn it."