It’s night. Mark is in a dark alleyway with his friend and two more people. The three are talking, probably about something serious. Mark? He’s just leaning on the wall. He has nothing to do with the discussion, and doesn’t really care. Though, things seem to get more intense. The lads talking started to get louder and talk with gestures, soon enough one of those two guys who Mark didn’t know pushed Mark’s friend, he punched him and boy what a juicy fight started… Mark decided to intervene and help his bud out, but was thrown on the ground by one of the bad guys, which said, visibly enraged, “What the hell do you want? Were we even talking to you? NEVER SHOVE YOUR NOSE INTO NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!” And right after that, that lad’s eyes were no more the only thing sparking - Mark could see a blade being swung right at him, somehow shining as if a beam of light was being projected on it, and in a second which felt as a dozen, it entered Mark’s neck, leaving a long cut, agonizing pain and suffocation.

This was the second nightmare during the period of Mark’s presence in Rathseik. After waking up in the same amount of panic as the first time, but without yelping, this time he didn’t need that much time to calm down.

“Now what the fudge was this dream?!” Both of the nightmares felt equally real, and even though the second one was way more weird and simply stupid, and one just wouldn’t rush to him and cut his throat open, still, for some unknown reason, it started to feel way more realistic, and even reassured Mark that this was what happened to him, and not his previous dream.

“But wait… Does this mean that Elizabeth never existed? I can’t recall remembering about her existence during that scene… Though I’m one-hundred-and-one percent sure that I would remember her if she was my girlfriend, at least in the last seconds of my life. Okay, that’s confusing… So which one of these two was real? Or maybe none? Nngh.... my head.” He growled, putting his hands on his temples. “I- I don’t know… Screw it, I don’t care.” This was followed by Mark slamming his fist over the nearby wall, and then getting up. He quickly readied himself up, and decided to go outside for a little walk before Elisot took him to his swordsmanship teacher. Though, as soon as he left the house, he heard Elisot’s voice from the back. “So, are you ready for your first lesson?” Mark flinched, he immediately turned back and said, visibly startled. “How are you so quiet?! Are you a human or a ghost?” Elisot chuckled, and left this question unanswered. “Let’s go now. We’re already being late so we gotta hurry.”

After a short instructage, Elisot and Mark headed to the swordsman’s house on their horse. Soon enough, they arrived and saw a small wooden house with a large yard around it. Though, it didn’t look like a yard as much as like a training camp. Multiple dummies, weapon stands and wooden logs, also mud and water pits. Mark’s future teacher didn’t seem to be around though. After getting down from the horse, Elisot went to the yard gate and knocked on it. This and a couple of the next tries were unsuccessful, and then El just shouted the warrior’s name. “Sir Basil!” - after a few calls, the door opened with noise, and a tall man came out.

“Yeah, come in- Ah, Elisot, it’s you. So that’s that boy you’ve told me about? Very well. Hey, you! Come here.” Mark went closer to the fence and slightly bowed. Taking a brief look at this new person, he saw a man, around twenty-twenty five years old, fit-looking, a bit shorter than Mark. His smile and crossed arms gave mixed signals.

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“Well…” Ellie said and gestured Mark over to the man. “Mark, Mark Simons”, said the fellow, reaching out to shake his hand. His new teacher’s hands were pretty weathered from either work or battle, and so was his sword’s handle, which was visible behind his back sticking out of the sheath. Just one glance at the man’s structure and features could tell you he was more distinguished than Elisot.

“Ah! So you’re that sand worm i keep hearing about. Well, you sure do fit the worm part, by the looks of yours... But don't worry, we’ll change that soon enough.” Mark couldn't tell if he was just passive aggressive or meant something else, and his chuckle after this phrase made Mark’s doubt stronger. Either way, Mark was astonished that the swordsman was practically insulting him within 30 seconds of meeting. He stood there dumbfounded, Ellie seemed to be unsuprised by this, as if it was completely normal, and just waited for the to-be warrior’s response.

“...Well, where I am from, there’s no need for any kind of warriors or swordsmen,” Mark just tried to give a reason for his limpness.

“What kind of land has no need for a strong warrior? Do you not have any pride to satisfy?” This short interaction created an impression of Basil as an old-fashioned man that saw strength as an important trait. Mark didn't respond to his question, he just shrugged and didn't say a word.

“Anywho, I will make you the first then, may I begin, Ellie?” he asked permission, like if she was Mark’s parent. But she just nodded and walked away, leaving him confused, alone with Basil.

“At any rate there is no good time to start. Go find a pointy stick or something and start skewering some froaglings, I'll get you a real dagger when you’re ready for it.“ He then just waved Mark off and went inside. The fellow was confused, annoyed, and debating on whether or not to listen to him. In the end he did trust what Basil told him to do. When Mark returned to him he was still inside doing what seemed to be nothing at all. He had him doing menial tasks for days before he started him on anything of value. Once he did give Mark more to do, it wasn’t much better, because this time, he was just using a wooden dagger and fighting large bugs he could find on his way. From there it went on for days at a time, moving him up a weapon and having him kill different things each time. This lasted until Mark got to the most normal, basic sword you could find. After that it took him weeks to move on to something new. Mark barely knew this man, but he was telling him what to do every day, as if he was some kind of a child doing chores. However, Mark wanted to trust Ellie so he kept doing what he told. After multiple weeks of the same sword, Basil had come to him and told him to pack because they were leaving. Where? Why? No explanation. Mark didn’t dare to ask, and he didn’t have time for that either - only twenty minutes were given to him to get ready. Luckily though, there was nothing much to pack. A set of clothes, some food - nothing more. When Mark was done, after some goodbyes to Ellie of course, he and Basil left town for whatever it was he decided was worth leaving for.