"You'll have to get stronger if you want to do better with these matches."

Phara is calm and unaffected across from me, her staff held in one hand in front of her. The point dug into the ground as I panted, and she smiled as I switched grip on the dagger in my right hand. My foot and my short spear was in my left, half a foot of steel on the end. She isn't breathing heavily- her breath is normal as she waits for me to attack. For the last three days since we had traveled from the Watch, she had been drilling me almost every time we stopped, so that for me breaks weren't brakes. To her honor, she has made me a better fighter and we do rest eventually. But when she woke me this morning, she told me to pick up my weapons and fight. 

To her honor, yet again, she knows how to use a staff. It only comes up to her mid-chest, a bit more than five feet, yet when she moves it my attacks are as effective as hitting a wall. Her hands twirl it and send it striking out faster than I can attack, blocking my attacks and striking through any weakness I leave in my defense. Twirling my quarter-spear, I move forward and jabbed it out towards her side. She simply twirls her staff, knocking the blade up. As she does so, I reach forward with my right and slash down at her face in a reverse grip on my knife. She somehow manages to twirl her staff back in the reverse direction fast enough to swat this away as well, leaving my arms outstretched in an awkward position for a moment. I start to pull back when with complete calm and cool she jabs the end of her staff into my midriff, causing me to double over in pain. Whatever force she has cocooning the staff, I am thankful for.  I see the end of the staff blur into my face just before I get hit, and pain flares into my nose. I use my knife hand to grab my face and use the broken spear to guard my front. A faint whistle combs through the air before I feel her staff crash into the side of my knee, and I kneel using my left hand to support myself. Soft footsteps sound as Phara walks closer to me. 

"Stop being so dramatic, your nose will be fine. It'll hurt but nothing will be broken, I promise you." I take my hand off my nose and shake my head, trying to clear the cloud over my mind. She starts talking as I feel my tightly coiled hair fall around my face, loose over my ears and eyes. She taps the top of my head with her staff, and though I don't look up I can see her calm and factual face in my mind, uncaring and just waiting for the next thing to happen. I've come to see this as more of who she is. The mirthful and smug side of her was a facade, as she was when she talked to the innkeeper Greeta. Now she isn't cold, but calm. That smugness is just a tiny part of her that only comes out at the rarest moments, it's tiny in the portrait of who she is. I saw it before, but not as who she was, just as a moment. I've come to appreciate this side more. It seems more... solid, more comforting. It's at the very least easier to deal with this when she isn't gloating over it. "The head, the knees. Overtaking an opponent with force alone is fine enough, but if you could cripple a foe without a fight, you would, would you not? Hence the legs; if you can't move then you can't fight. If you can't think clearly, you won't fight clearly. And from how you just portrayed your fighting skill, you weren't thinking." I look up at her, almost spiteful but knowing better. Someone else could make the excuse that I don't have the experience, but that doesn't work with Phara when she's giving the experience to you. Not sure that it's spite either way- just distaste knowing that she's right. "We have drilled for some time, but if you don't apply them to training then you won't get better. If you don't get better, then you die. Get up, but only use the spear haft this time. Your knife seems to confuse you."

I stood, tossing my knife to the tree where we had decided to place our things for the break. Every tree here seemed to be two hundred or more paces from the next. She lifted her staff, gesturing as if to invite me to fight her. I stood up, her waiting quietly for me to attack. I have to remember to think this time. I take a slow breath and let it out, clearing my mind and focusing. Think.

Switching my spear from my left to my right, I clear the five paces between us and jab to her face. She moves her staff up, flicking it with her left hand and hitting my spear away from her. I step back to set up for another attack and she steps forward, following me and sweeping the staff towards my neck in a broad swing. She's testing me. I move my blade across my body, hitting her staff away, then step to the side and swing forward, towards her neck. She spins to her right, grabbing her staff with both hands while nimbly evading my blade, then swinging the staff towards my head. I use both hands to push back against it with my short spear then step forward to jab her in the chest. And then suddenly she reverses the staff, pulling back the end she used to swing at me pulling the other side up, then jabbing into my chest. As I step back, she comes back down with the opposite end and smacks me on the shoulder. As I fall to the grasses, I remember the rolling sequence she made me do on the grasses for days. Tumbling across the ground, ungracefully I'm sure, I roll onto my feet and remained crouched. She didn't come after me and gives a nod of approval. It feels... gratifying. It's a feeling I haven't had in a long time. 

I stand, shaking out my arms and legs as I take another deep breath and focus. This is the best I've done so far. I'm breathing heavy, I'm worn, and my chest hurts but I know that that won't be an excuse. I give one more long breath then rush at her before she gets tired of waiting. 

-

Sore, I groan as I lift our packs onto my shoulders. We both carry our own weapons, but I'm still carrying our clothes, sleeping rolls, and canvas in the instance that it would rain while we sleep. Phara walks ahead, carrying our coins and rations. We took a quarter-hour rest after our training, or my training to be true, and though I am better rested I still find myself sore. I have done days of training, after all. Phara begins walking, and I move faster to match pace. Carrying these things on my back as we journey is supposed to make me stronger, but I'm not sure how. All I know that it is doing is making me more sore and tired each day. I would appreciate some horses. 

Phara talks first as we walk, which surprises me. "That was the first time you forced me to use more than one hand on my staff. You decided not to use linear attacks, and it worked well."

I shrugged it off. "I just did what you said; I focused and applied my training, and it worked." I rolled my shoulders back, trying to work the stiffness out of my muscles. "I'm still weak though."

She nodded, unconcerned as she took out a book and opened it. "Yes, but you will get stronger. If you feel as though you are not becoming strong enough, then I could up your training."

I open my mouth to say no but stop as I think about it. It's not as though we lose anything from training more, and I could always become stronger. Beyond that, she wouldn't push me to a point of no return, and I do need to get stronger... but it seems like a lot more work than I'm willing to put in. At the least right now. "I'll think about it."

"Mmm," Phara replies, and with that, we walk in silence. 

We have been walking in silence for a while, maybe a few hours, when Phara stops me for a break. I'm sweating, it's running down my neck and back, making my fabrics cling to my body. I took off my cloak some time ago, seeing as it was too hot for me to wear. The plains sun is too hot for anyone to wear a cloak. Even Phara, dressed in traveling clothes, no matter how calm she is, has rolled up her sleeves in the heat. When we stopped, I placed our packs upon the ground and sat in the grass, finally still long enough to let the wind touch me and caress my skin, pulling the heat from my body. Phara had likewise sat down, dumping her stuff into the grass not far from me. I continue to sit here, listening to the wind blow past my ears as I pull in my legs. Closing my eyes, I breathe and let my mind go, my senses extend beyond and within myself. The wind and air that moves around me are the same as the pulses of my heart, the same as the breath in my lungs. The sifting of the grasses as Phara moves is the same as the blood rushing through my legs, the same as the hair brushing the back of my neck. Everything that I can sense is the same, the heat of the sun on my face is as to the heat of my body beneath my skin. Everything I can feel, hear, it's all everything else... but one thing is different. It's putting myself as a part of something else, the part that it has is separate from the whole. It's taking me away from this... this feel, this mood, this as it is now. I sense the power in me, the hollowness, the emptiness that consumes, and molds. Phara gets up before I do, seeing as she isn't as tired or sweaty as I am. I hear the distant trickle of water that she is walking to, a small river or stream. The hollowness sits, dormant but I sense still present, as if ready. It's not human, maybe it's not mortal- there is no word for what it is. Lysiria would tell me to think of "it" as myself. So perhaps I am not human, or this side of me is not human ... this side of me is not mortal. Giving it attention, it grows, separating itself from the other unity of the senses. The hollowness in the fingers, in the limbs, in the mind and soul... it's all distinction. It spreads, or maybe it is. The wind is no longer the wind but a wind, no longer the sun but a sun. Heat is in the air, and grasses sway. A sky is blue, its clouds beneath them as their wind blows, pushing them farther and farther from each other. This world isn't silent, it's moving and cannot stay still. Descending from sky to earth beneath it, the ground is covered by it's swaying grasses, growing in a green sea to the line where sky and earth kiss. Odd that the worlds cannot stay separate. There is a splash from a stream; from earth to a stream, a woman is in its waters...

A woman? How is this a woman... Phara? From the ground on one side to the next, quickly to and fro- my head shakes as I clear my mind, and look down to realize I am standing. When did I stand... I shake my head again, then focus on allowing the hollowness to... unbecome, as I slowly regain myself and perspective. I've never felt the hollowness take my mind in that way before... the feeling is - was odd. I squeeze my hand, regaining perspective with each movement as I allow my hand to relax. I wonder if this is what Lysiria meant by allowing the hollowness to become one with me, to meld it to myself until it was myself. I'm not sure, but I don't think that this is what she meant. I'll ask her about it tonight, maybe she'll have something to say.

I decide this as I turn to the stream and walk, which happens to be passed some munched on bushes and a tree. I walk next to Phara, who is kneeling at the stream, with wet hands, and is looking out across the stream to the plains beyond. I kneel as well, placing my own hands into the water and cupping some. I lift it and allow it to spill down my neck and back, reveling in the feeling of its coolness and calm. As I sigh, I notice Phara still looking out across the plains. I wonder what's she's looking for. Turning myself, I inspect the eaten bush and it's leaves as I ask Phara, "What are you looking at?"

I sense that she doesn't turn to me or in my direction at all as she responds. "The large animal tracks here. They lead far out into the plains after they cross the river, and though it is foolish, I imagine that the meat would be good." 

I turn back to see that she is right. There are deep hoove prints in the ground around us, and across the stream the grow deeper, tearing up the earth. For some reason, I chose to ignore it or didn't process this. I walk over, past Phara who is now watching me, and touch the tracks across the stream. The earth and grasses are pulled up, torn from a number of hooves walking over them. "It seems like they were running from something."

Phara's face turns mildly interested as she stands, walking over and looking past my shoulder. "Why do you say that?"

I put my hand onto the tracks, feeling the torn dirt and earth in my hand with clumps of grass. "Look at how this ground is torn up. See over there," I say, pointing past the stream on the other side, "How the tracks are more impressions in the earth from the weight?  Now look here," I say, turning back to this side of the steam, "This was more than just plodding. The ground is trampled; they were running." I kneel next to one of the larger tracks to see an odd predator track. It's larger than the hoove and has three large clawed fingers from the way the ground was dug in. They are spaced throughout the other tracks, and something seems dragged across the ground as well. "And look at that! I've never seen a predator like that before. I'd say we'll get some of that meat after all. Let's go!" I start back but stop as I notice Phara's dubious look. "Come one! Imagine how good that fresh meat will be compared to rations. The herd was too much for them to feast on entirely; we could et ourselves a slice."

I see her soften and feel a sense of excitement. Good food! "Alright," she says, "Go get the bags so that we may go."

My excitement has gone down. "Damn the bags, why? We'll just go get meat and come right back the same way we came, nothing's gonna happen to them."

She doesn't look like she's giving up. "And run the risk that we come back and the bags have suddenly disappeared? No, pick them up so that we may leave."

"Phara, who else have you seen on the road?"

Phara nodded. "The person walking down the road is probably thinking the same thing. It seems as though you're avoiding carrying them simply because they are heavy. Maybe we should increase your training after all?"

I stare at her, and she stares back. I'm not going to win this one.  Standing to walk back and grab the bags, I mutter about how we should have never brought the damned things in the first place. She's not wrong- the bags are heavy and I don't want to carry them any more than I have to. It was, in truth, the only reason I didn't want to pick them up in the first place. As I sling them over each shoulder, I grab our weapons and walk back to Phara, handing her her sword and staff. She puts her sword belt on as she walks away, and I buckle on my weapons belt, sliding my small spear and knife through the loops.  I look up and she is already past the stream, so I pick up speed to match pace until we draw even, setting out to follow the tracks. 

-

It wasn't long before we found them. The flat plains allow us to see to the most distant horizon, and as we walked we saw a far and dark smudge in the distance. When we got close enough to see what it was, we set down our packs and crouched as we are now, deep in the grasses watching the predators salvage what was left of the prey. It looked as though half a herd of bison- as Phara identified it- was slaughtered, maimed and grotesque bodies slain about in the grasses. There were long streaks in the grasses, smears of dried blood left against the ground. I assume that some of the bodies of the bison were dragged off, eaten elsewhere. Now we're just sitting here, watching the five remaining predators savage the remains of the herd. 

And it was odd, I have never seen or heard anything like them. They have tan to golden skin, fuzzy and leathery. Their bodies are sleek, curving from their heavily muscled torsos to their tail. A long snout protrudes from their face, somewhere between feline and vulpine, with the end of their snouts being a beak. Almost like griffins, but whenever they open and close their mouths the teeth within glisten and snap. They have a long mane that frames their entire face, and only two forelegs for limbs that are long and heavily muscled. Their claws pull apart their food with ease. But this isn't the oddest thing. The oddest, and by far the scariest thing about them is that they have wings. They are long and folded against their sides. As they walk, I noticed that they are tipped with some sort of claw and realize that for them, this probably wasn't a hunt; it was more of sport. Of course, they'd eat to survive, but when they can fly and murder the bison from every front, I'm not too sure this would have been hard. Then again, I suppose that if they are native to the land, the bison have been dealing with this for a while, and may have some counters in place... but I'm not entirely sure that they are effective. 

"Have you ever seen anything like them before?" I ask Phara, almost breathless in truth. They are... beyond anything I've seen and met. 

I turn to look at Phara as she nods. "Yes." Somewhat disappointed and confused, I continue to listen. "Leefir. They are beasts, live underground but hunt on land and skies. They are known to hate water, but never the less are ferocious animals. I've heard that they can travel in packs of three score or more, but I've never seen a gilt of Leefir that large." She watches them scavenge as I watch her, then said, "Even dragon riders are wary of a large gilt of Leefir. I wonder how many it took to kill this herd. Maybe all sixty." 

I'm staring at her in shock. "You've seen a dragon?"

She glances at me, almost the same way she would look at a child, then responds, "For a later time." She looks back at the Leefir, then begins to tap her staff. "This might be good for you. Leefir isn't a natural beast, and you might be able to... absorb them."

"What?" I hissed softly. When she said that, the more I look at them, the more dangerous they get. "Those things? I can't even hold my own against you! How do you expect me to fair well against them?"

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She was still too calm for the situation. Or at least for what she just said. "I'm good." Before I could respond with my outraged retort, she continued. "I'll be here either way. You do need to get stronger, not just physically but also in power. I can keep them off so you only have to fight one at a time."

I'm aghast. "Fight them? You c-"

"Yes, fight them." She said calmly, cutting me off. "You still do have to train. If it becomes too much for you to handle, I'll kill the one you're fighting and scare the others away. There are only five- I expect you to kill at least three. Don't hold back. If you run out of stamina or power, tell me. I'll stop it."

She's right; I need to get stronger. I doubt that these are the strongest things in Onkira, or the most deadly. I'm sure that there are worse. If I can't defeat a Leefir, then I won't do anything of worth. I must make the effort to become stronger. "How will you keep them away from me?"

She picks up her staff and stands. "Don't think of it. Focus on one and confront him, and I'll keep the others off your back. Remember, go for the vital points; necks, knees, head. Crippling them is as good as killing them. " She gestures towards the dead bodies and Leefir among them. "Whenever you're ready."

Grabbing my broken spear and knife from my belt loop, I closed my eyes and breathed. Breathed with the wind, the sun, even the Leefir. And when I felt the hollowness, I allowed it to be, feeling the hollowness take the body limb by limb. Standing, I looked back at the Leefir. There was one closest to me, tearing at the body of a dead bison yet not consuming much. I walked towards it, and as I did so I heard Phara following behind me, albeit at a distance. 

I put my broken spear in my right hand and slid the knife back into the belt with my left. The Leefir turns to me as I crunch through the grasses, baring his teeth and stretching his back forward at me with a growl. Suddenly four more growls sound around me, and I feel the gazes of predators watching me as I walk to their prey. The closer I walk, the more I realize that they are large, as long as a horse and as tall or taller than my shoulders. Gripping the broken spear, I focus my mind, remembering her words and the hours of training. Suddenly a growl from my side gets louder, but I don't turn towards it, keeping my eyes on the one in front of me and raising my spear in front of my face. Suddenly the growl cuts short, and I hear a thud as the Leefir skids into the ground and whimpers. The Leefir behind the one in front of me growls and also rushes forward, pulling itself across the ground quite fast on two legs. And it is blown off its feet, the force that moved it pushing it away and against the ground. I find myself thankful for Phara and her staff. 

I sunk into the hollowness, building my strength as the Leefir lunged at me, and hopping to the side I slashed at his neck. It was strong, but it wasn't strong enough to do more than give him a cut. He hisses angrily, clicking his beak, and did perhaps the scariest thing I've seen up until this moment. Pushing forward his front legs, he rose into the air on his tail, and flared his wings, hissing and giving me a full view of his front row of fangs. If he was attempting to scare me into becoming prey, it is working well. 

But I am a hollowness of souls, and he will be the next I conquer. I don't have to think to kill him, I only have to act. Running forward, I duck past his claws as he slams them back to the ground and jump into his chest, forcing my spear through his ribs, pushing him back onto his spine before his claws can touch the ground.  He screeches, claws raking into my back as he snaps his head out towards my neck. I ignore the claws digging into the flesh of my back and pull out my knife with my left hand, putting my forearm under his chin to stop his head from pulling out my throat and digging my knife blade into its neck. The screech sounds louder, I can feel the jugular vibrating against my wrist as the rest of his gilt is scrambling to get at me but being held back by Phara. His claws come out from my flesh for a mere moment, and his head pulls back. That's all I need. I feel the hollowness become heavier in me as I pull my knife through his throat, the hairs of his mane slick with blood and tickling my wrist, leaving red smears against my arm as I open his throat. He stops howling, and I look into his eyes as he dies. I feel the blood on my flesh, his blood, pulsing with the blood inside of me. The hollowness condenses, and then it happens. 

His essence flows into me, the silvery clear soul leaves the eyes, mouth, nose, and enter my own. It's pushing into me, through my limbs, my mind, the hollowness condensing with the pressure of power like the pressure you feel at the bottom of the lake, but on the inside, and in a way that strengthens you. Nothing like a lake. My blood is rushing, flexing my hands I feel the muscles tense and release, feel every breath in my body, feel the hairs without it. Sliding my knife out of his neck, I stand utop his body and brace my foot against his chest, pulling my short spear from inside. I look up to Phara to see her standing thirty spans away in time to see her flick her staff to my right and watching the corresponding Leefir be blasted back through the air thirty paces. Its wings spread flapping to soften the crash. She meets my eyes as I grin, feeling a sting as I shift my shoulders, and the blood rolls down my back. A slight smile comes onto her face and she nods behind me and to the right, flicking her staff again to keep the other three back. 

I turned, the hollowness suffused within me to see the next Leefir come to confront me. This one is smarter and much larger, however- as soon as he was allowed to confront me he spreads his wings and takes to the air. I forgot that they could use those. As I crouched, preparing to jump up or to the side, his hiss turns to something different, and with that, he is slammed into the ground, wings folding as he thudded into the grasses. I rush between the space while he's dazed, not wasting time to wait for him to be prepared. He already is, sweeping his tail at me as I ran forward, so I jump over it, landing into a roll as his claws swipe over me. Standing, my knees bent, I find myself between his arms. I jump, clearing his head as he snaps at me, feeling his mane brush against my ankles as I come back down to the side of his head. He snaps at me again, but this time I dive under him, cutting the back of his leg and rolling out to the other side. He screeches, pissed and angry, he lunges at my face faster than he did last time. I get my knife up between us, but he simply bites down on the blade and shakes his head fiercely to the side, slinging me through the air and causing me to release my knife. I skid on my ass, then roll onto my back. He is charging at me, fangs bared. I put all my strength into my legs and dash to the side, avoiding his beak. He flares his wings with a screech and tries to fly once more only to get slammed down. I run at him, and this time am prepared for the sweep of his tail that comes as I charge, jumping over it and going for his head, both hands on my short spear as I bring it down impale him through the skull. 

And he slaps me out of the air, almost with contempt, slamming me into the ground. I let go of my staff as I hit the earth, groaning as the pain in my back flares and my ribs bruise. I feel the ground shake as he walks over to me, leering up and opening his mouth... and the image of Phara comes into my mind, reminding me who will stop me from getting these souls if I fail. So I push myself onto my knees, and before he can snap down, I push off my feet, slamming my fist into his throat. 

His screech warbles as he's taken by surprise, the air caught in his throat. I move, leaping on the ground to grab my short spear, then turning and pulling it overhead, the blade reversed, using all my strength to jab it down into the cavity between his neck and chest, the blade piercing the flesh and whatever is beneath, his gurgled scream piercing through the plains. He flares his wings out as he dies, as if every muscle became tense, then fell down. He almost falls utop me but I hop back, the blood from his throat leaking onto my hand. I pull out my spear with my left hand and wipe my right and the blade against his fleece, the blood smearing his coat. I look into his golden eyes, looking at the reflection of my face, expectant. And then the essence pours out, flowing through the air like liquid, into my body, into my being. I gasped as it took the air from my lungs; I don't need air now. The hollowness condenses, heavier as my sense of self grows stronger yet weaker at the same time. Phara lets another of the three in as I run over to pick up my knife. He turns to his left to face me, then pulls himself along the ground with his legs dragging his tail as it moves side to side behind him. I follow the movement of his head, staying on his side. He's turning to follow me, moving closer, but I don't give him the chance. The hollowness is compressing within me, the power if suffused in me. I throw my spear, my days of practicing with a sling showing through as it pierces through its eye. The beast howls, rearing back and clawing at its face with one hand and stumbling in circles. Running forward with my knife in hand, I avoided the blind stumbling and, holding my knife in a reverse grip, slid it in between the bones of its neck. As it in pain turned to the right against the knife to swat at me, I ran to the left, dragging my knife through its skin with me, opening its throat. As I pulled my spear from its eye, the essence leaked out once again. I felt the hollowness compress as the essence flowed into me, the power... I was breathing heavily, and my chest hurt but it wasn't impeding me, as if it wasn't happening to me for all the effect it did to me. 

I looked at Phara, but she wasn't standing calmly a distance away. Maybe she was paying more attention to my fights than she should have or would have normally because a Leefir had managed to sneak up behind her. She turned to confront it, swing her staff out in front and away from her, but it seemed that the Leefir was wise to this ploy. It leapt above whatever force that Phara was going to use to push it back, spreading its wings and taking flight into the air, heading for me. And just as I saw this I realized that there was another one...

Who when looking back down had wasted no time getting to me. When he reached me he spun, hitting me with his tail and sending me to the ground amongst the spiky dry grasses that prick into my back and skin. Dazed, I feel more than see it climbing atop me, and opening my eyes I see its maul and beak open, rows of sharp teeth preparing to penetrate my skull. I hissed, crying out and jabbing my spear into its mouth. As it rears back, I search for my knife. I must have dropped it when it tackled me to the ground. I see it spit my spear out and screech louder than any of the other Leefir, charging at me with its mouth wide open. I do the only thing I can think of. I rip off my shirt and stuff it into its gullet, watching satisfied as it chokes on fabric and cloth. I pick my spear up and jab it through its neck, then shove it as hard as I can through the other side, blood leaking down my arm. The Leefir dies quicker than the others as well, its essence leaking out as I see the final Leefir descending towards me from the air. I can't move, the essence is flowing into me, my body is tense. 

And the Leefir is battered to the side, straight into the ground, crunching down on its own wings. And there is Phara, leaping through the sky like a squirrel through trees, landing and slamming the staff into its head with more force than a human body could muster. "Wait!" I call out, my voice scratchy and rough. What she just did proves she could have killed all of them alone; that and keeping all of them at bay from both of us and not getting a scratch. "Let me kill it." She stands to the side as I walk over, but doesn't let it move as she continues to force it into the ground. I stab it through its skull, absorbing the essence, compressing the power...

 Then falling to my knees. The hollowness lessens until it fades. The power is still there, but my body can only handle so much. The hollowness drove me past the need to rest for breath, past the need to stop, and it caught up to me. In pain, my breaths come shallow and ragged. Phara is standing behind me, and I can feel her eyes looking me over. "You're covered in blood, and most of it isn't your own. I'd say you did a good job. Your hair has blood in it too." I didn't even notice it, but the leather band that I use to keep my hair back and out of my face is gone, dark coils framing my eyesight. I can feel the stickiness of blood against my face. I cough, my chest and ribs wracked, as I spit out blood. I must have bit my tongue when I hit the ground. "Your back is cut open. I'll wrap it with spare cloth, but we'll have to stop at the next village and see if we can't find a healer." I want to protest, but even still I am gathering my breath. The ground never felt so good. I cough again as I turn to look up at her. She's looking at the slaughtered bison, calm as she was before. 

"When I'm done wrapping you, we have to go get ourselves some carves of bison." She looks back down at me, calm and apathetic. "You were right, the meat was worth it."

I cough again, chest heaving while I wince in pain. I find myself regretting many decisions. 

--

I roll my shoulders back, the muscles on my shoulder blades pushing back against the bandages wrapped against my skin. What little meat was left ton the spit was at this point burnt, and a pile of jerky lays out in the late night, the fire keeping the darkness at bay. The day was long, but I found myself unready to sleep. 

Phara, seemingly content with her read, placed the book in her pack and said, "When you collapsed today. I was surprised." She calm enough that she doesn't seem surprised. "I didn't think that you could run out of power, yet you seemed to exhaust yourself as soon as the fight ended. I expected you to struggle too much by three that I would have to scare the others away, but you didn't seem like you would stop. Or could, for that matter. I didn't think your power could... run out."

I looked at her skeptically. Though she seemed as calm and empty as ever, the way she phrased the words gave off a hint of... concern. It was odd- I know she cares enough about me to make sure I don't die, but until now it almost seemed like an obligation or a hobby. This is feeling different. "It wasn't the hollowness. I don't think that it can exhaust itself. But I am unaccustomed to battle, or anything of that intensity for that period of time. My body, coupled with my injuries, was too weak to continue."

She nods. "So the power of a Vynya can only sustain on the power of the body. The power is the enhancement but your body is the same."

It takes me a moment to process that when she says Vynya she is referring to me. "No, but it can only sustain the body beyond its limit for a certain period of time. Every time I absorb an essence, the hollowness sustains me, giving me more power. Once my body reaches its limit, however, I think the amount it gives or can give lessens each time. That's why I passed out at the end."

Phara nodded, then turned to look back at the fire. It's odd how disconnected she seems. "What about you?" I ask. She turns to me politely in question, her straight hair framing an unevenly shadowed face. "Have you really seen a dragon?"

She nods, looking back at the flames. "Some years ago, maybe before you were born, there was a crisis in the Freelands. A group of people on the western-most part of their Kingdom banded together and started trying to claim land for themselves. They took women and children as hostages and for... other things. The Kingdom was reasonably outraged, and as such sent their dragon riders to kill every man who stood against them, and save their citizens." She taps the top of the staff by her legs. "I was there with them, gathering intel as I spy for the Freelands and on other assignments. I saw two dragons and got to meet a dragon rider."

"Truly?" I ask, fascinated. In Kara, there are no dragons. We hear about them being distant lands, but for the most part, they are tales, parts of stories, and myths and legends. Phara saying she met one and got to talk to the rider; that is a legend come true. 

Phara nods again. "Yes. Though there are many more Wyverns than Dragons. Dragons are a more magical aspect and as such stronger and rarer. Wyverns are associated with more natural elements and are much more common. That said, both are a strong force on any battlefield. When the Dragons burned down the villages..." She gives a small shake of her head as she looks into the fire as if she can still see it. "It looked as the villages came out sky forsaken. Like they had been through the plain of Ingus.

"That said," she continued, "When I said that even Dragon riders must be wary of a full gilt of Leefir, I meant that they would have to be surprised by them. If the guilt met them head-on, I have no doubt that they would be burned out of the sky. " With that, she kicked the spit into the flames, banking it with some stones she pulled from the stream earlier. "Go to sleep, Kuxalo. Tomorrow we will have a long day of walking."

She lies down, falling asleep as I sit up staring at the stars. The night is odd. It stays when the sun is gone, but when it comes back, it hides. The sun would look better in the night sky. 

Maybe one day the stars will explain it to me.

--

"I have a question," I say to Lysiria as we come back to the hill. Our training for the night is done, and I haven't yet asked what I had on my mind. We don't really talk during training however; training is intense. But it has been working, seeing as I have much better control of the hollowness within me. 

Lysiria looks at me. "What is it?"

I explain to her about when I was meditating by the stream, how when the hollowness completely filled me, how I felt, how I was. As I explained, she nodded, listening closely. The visible emotion on her face was welcome after each day with Phara, and I found that here it was most comforting. When I finished, her face remained thoughtful for a few seconds, more s if she was thinking of what to say and less of what it was. 

"That was you losing control." She said finally. "The point of this training is to meld you with your power until it is one and the same. If it is too much of yourself, you lose potential and only have intention. But too much of the power, you lose any intention and become only power. This is dangerous. The more power you gain, the more emptiness you gain as well. If you are only power, then that emptiness becomes your mind and your heart. This is why Vynya that were untrained or too ambitious wold kill their lovers, innocents, their children. There was nothing to stop them because they is nothing but power." She stopped walking, placing her hand on my shoulder. I stopped as well, looking her in the eyes as her face grew sorrowful and yet remained serious. "Do you know why you feel hollow when your power begins to build?"

I have thought about this before, I confess. "Because something is... missing?"

The grins she gives me is full of sadness. It's odd to see that from her. "Because it is just their essence without their spirit. It is what they were without who they were. The would holds both of these things. This is what all power is, Kuxalo. Essence without spirit, mind, or heart. 

When you become fully power, you take away half of your soul."

-

I woke with back and muscles sore, groaning as I sat up. I rub my eyes, looking into the horizon, where the sun is poking of the line at the end of the world, chasing the darkness away. The hues full past my eyes, grabbing and luring my mind. See? The sun is up but the night is gone? See Calkolh? Wouldn't the sun be prettier with black? The boy with the boils atop his head stands with his brother as they walk out of the village, barefoot and dirty, watching the sun bring the morning. I told you Calkolh. Even the skies can't have both of everything. 

He was right, I think as the sun burns my eyes. Even the skies can't have both of everything.