The demonic infiltration had taken a heavy toll on the ship and its crew. Everyone looked disheartened and the pessimism in the air was enough to strangle a person. Elves wondered if they’d ever get back home. The ship jumped into real space and began making repairs. The leader presided over the funeral rituals of the dead crew, sending their souls to the light of Rahl. One thousand white coffins flew out into space to a star. Their flesh would meet its end and their souls alight with bigger and grander flames. Crew members stood stoically, saluting as each coffin left the bay. An elf began singing a dirge. Lutes and drums sounded as the last coffins jettisoned into space. They’d go on singing and playing music for hours so that the souls of the dead wouldn’t linger on the ship.

John couldn’t help wondering what his own funeral service had been like in his previous life. Did many people come? Had some people laughed at the circumstances of his death? John found he didn’t care. One day he’d be back, alive and well. Even if he had to search the entire galaxy, system by system, he’d do it. To do so he would need great power and influence. John’s determination soon turned to despair. He didn’t even know if he was in the same galaxy as Earth.

After the last of the coffins had reached the star’s gravity well, John followed Sor Al back to her chambers.

“You were woefully unprepared for killing a high demon,” Sor Al said once they’d entered her chamber. “You must work harder.”

“Most people can’t handle a high demon on their own,” John objected. High demons were many levels above what he could handle. Just silencing their whispers in his head took a great toll on his mind. The emotions they manipulated him into feeling were hard to suppress.

“You are not most people. You are my apprentice,” Sor Al said simply, her eyes looking imperiously at John’s. “Now, let me show you a variation of the fireball weave. It is particularly effective against demons.”

When John’s lesson with Sor Al came to an end he went to find Karamen in the Arbiters’ Bay.

Karamen was sitting on a bench looking morose as he observed two arbiters spar in the ring. John had never seen him look so sad.

“Wild Child,” he greeted John.

“Karamen,” John took a seat next to him. “Everything that happened...” He had to comfort his only friend on the ship, somehow.

Karamen interrupted, “Do you know why they call us the arbiters of the balance?”

“No, why?” John had no idea. He had always been curious about it, but had never asked.

“It’s because we balance the aether and the real within ourselves. We settle the dispute between one extreme and the other, between life and death. If we weren’t able to do so our bodies would explode when we phase. I have seen many of my brothers and sisters die.”

“That’s horrible,” said John. “Why do people become arbiters then?” An aetherial explosion sounded like a particularly gruesome way to die.

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“It is a Way that very few people take. It requires a certain madness of character and an indifference towards death. Even the slightest misstep would carry us to our doom. Under the light of the aether, death is our shadow.”

“That must be true for every soldier, I imagine. They must all be prepared to face death at any time.”

“Here’s the thing,” Karamen said with sudden vehemence. “If they had died in battle I would not have a qualm, but dying by their siblings’ own hand is a far worse fate. You have no idea how difficult it is to see the brothers and sisters you have spent most of your life with, turning into demoniacs.” If Karamen had been possessed by a demon John wouldn’t know how to face him. He would never be able to harm his true friends, no matter the circumstance.

“I understand how you’re feeling.”

“That’s good,” Karamen said, lapsing into silence. The two sat there for a while watching the arbiters in the ring fight out their grief. There had been five thousand crew members when John first boarded the Swift Retribution. Now, only three thousand five hundred remained. Some had fallen to the God King, but most had died to the demons.

John spent the next one and a half years training madly. There was little else to do on the ship. He spent the morning hours with Sor Al, learning more and more complex weaves of fire. He spent the afternoon with Karamen, learning how to balance the aether within his body and to phase in and out of reality. He could now phase for a whole second. It was a dangerous endeavor but under Karamen’s expert guidance John felt safe.

One morning, when John was doing his daily exercises, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He began to sweat. The pain eventually subsided but it left him feeling weak. His body grew sluggish and his thinking became slow. What was happening to him? Had a demon attacked again? No, he did not feel anything feeding on his emotions. Was this puberty? No, he thought as he rummaged through memories of his past life. Puberty didn’t hit so hard and sudden. He might not have the physiology of an Earthling but it did seem very unlikely.

He ran to Sor Al’s chambers in panic.

“What’s the matter?” Sor Al asked on seeing him. “You look like a demon is chasing you.”

“Something’s wrong with me. Is it a virus? I ate meat with Nem when we were on that planet. It could have been the bread we had in the mine too. Maybe that’s affecting me now.” He’d always felt guilty about eating that meat. He hadn’t been able to stop himself at the time. His stomach had craved it.

“That was one and a half years ago,” Sor Al laughed. “Let me check.” Thin strands of blue circled around Sor Al and then pierced John’s body. “How strange,” she said.

“Is it bad?” asked John, in great nervousness. Strange didn’t mean bad, did it? Was he going to die?

“Your aura reserves have shrunk a little. Other than that you’re fine. Go to the medical bay and get checked, just to be safe.”

“Why have my aura reserves shrunk?”

“It looks like some great power forcibly expanded your aura pool a long time ago. Now that the power is gone, the aura within you has naturally lessened.”

“Forcibly expanded…Is that even possible?” Could there be such a power in the universe? This was like forced evolution, albeit for a limited period of time.

“For the Bright Ones it is possible.”

John then recalled what the old man had said during his infancy. He had warned him that the power he had gifted John would be gone in ten years. Had it been ten years since that day already? The years had gone by very quickly. John told Sor Al about the incident who nodded in affirmation.

“I suspected as much.”

“What am I going to do now?” John asked, extremely depressed. He hadn’t even noticed the advantages he had gained during the last ten years. Now that the power was gone he felt its absence keenly. Would he still be good enough to be Sor Al’s apprentice?

“The Bright One’s power has helped shape your body and mind. It is far superior to a normal human’s even now. With hard work and perseverance you will be able to make up for this lack of power. Summon a fireball so that I can see.”

John summoned a fireball. It was smaller than before, and more unstable than it should have been. He maintained it for as long as he could but it eventually fizzled out.

“You are still a child. With time you will grow. Don’t worry too much. Now, let us learn a new weave. We shall test how dull your mind has become.”

John groaned, but then his face filled with new determination. He would not slack off one single bit from now on, he promised himself.