My hunting and gathering has born fruit. Spirits and monsters are not enemies but siblings from an oft forgotten branch... --82.4 Seconds Post-Integration.

  "Let's get down to it," Salsa yelled. "I ain't going to waste your time or mine by mouthing off about irrelevant details. Not with the crisis. How many of you have heard about magic missile -- show of hands!"

  No one held up their hand except Clark.

  Salsa looked at him sternly. Belatedly, he answered: "During a combat encounter, my commander mentioned how it was unfortunate I didn't have magic missile learned."

  "Ah! A worthy place to learn of it. Did your commander go into specifics?" Salsa asked.

  "No, sir! An Airheart attacked us rendering the conversation moot."

  "An Airheart?! A worthy foe to use magic missile on. And your commander had every right to lament his team not knowing magic missile. It is one of the most useful monster-fighting techniques. Master it and you will always be able to hit your mark. Split off into pairs. Each pair will take one of the shields and weapons on the table to my back."

  The recruits did as they were ordered. Clark got the shield for his duo. He got lucky and was able to pair off with Hera, who, like him, was also late while fighting the crowds on route to the stadium. She had the weapon. Clark could guess where the training was headed.

  Salsa presided at the head of the field overlooking the paired off recruits, each recruit facing down their partner. "Now, watch closely as I demonstrate."

  Clark watched Salsa. His aura he could detect only faintly yet he saw it overtake his longsword. Suddenly, the blade jerked back and forth, as if two spirits were arguing over who could have it, just as his aura overtook the blade. Abruptly as the jerking started, it ended, and a blast of light ejaculated from the blade's tip, slamming into a target on the far end of the wall opposite Salsa. "That is a magic missile. Although my target was stationary, that missile is capable of motion tracking, which I will now demonstrate."

  Salsa performed the same action -- his aura overtook his blade causing it to jangle back and forth prior to blasting toward the target -- this time, however, Salsa's longsword was directed at the ground. Despite this, the blade's 'shot,' just as it was about to impact the floor, instead turned up and slammed into the target on the wall. A chorus of awed recruits echoed the blast's impact.

  "This is what everyone here must practice," Salsa again yelled. "This technique could very well save your life or the life of an ally on the field. Now I want you all to practice this. I assume everyone notice what I did to unleash a magic missile." Salsa demonstrated again the basics of a weapon pulse. "What you need to know about a magic missile is you need will, stamina, and a Manipulation dandy to make it work. Will for directing the blast, stamina to surge your aura, and the dandy is self-evident. 'How do I direct the missile?' I hear many of you thinking. Well, simple as imagining where you want your projectile to go. Enough of me yapping, though. You each get a stamina dandy and one Manipulation dandy. Hit the shield of your partner three times to pass; the shield bearer should move to get the most out of this exercise. Now, go!"

  As Clark was the one with the shield, he moved himself up and down while bearing his shield. His movements were slow and predictable. But he figured that was the point of the exercise, to adjust one's accuracy against a moving target. Simple proficiency over complex mastery.

  Hera drank down her dandies. Her aura bloomed then unleashed a string of projectiles. Each missile curved through the air unsteadily but slammed into his shield like darts upon a board.

  From across the room, Salsa shouted, "Hera -- passes!"

  That impressed Clark. "That was quick! Where did you learn that?"

  "Natural graces, I guess. That and our wonderful teacher."

  To exchange the shield and weapon, Hera and he met in the middle of the stadium before backing out again.

  With the weapon in his hand and the shield on Hera's arm, it was his turn to practice.

  "Okay, Clark -- focus!" He summoned his aura after downing his own dandies and repeated the process for activating his aura. With repeated practice, Clark was now decent at urging his aura 'on.' He couldn't unleash it as quickly as Hera, evidently, but he had improved since the last League training session. He willed his aura over his weapon and urged it into the weapon's center, activating a pulse which... fizzled out into wispy sparks.

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  ...he got too excited.

  Clark had imagined the projectiles hitting the shield before he imagined them actually coming forth from his weapon as blasts.

  Again, he urged his aura into his weapon. This time, he didn't put the goose before the nest, and he calmly shot toward Hera a magic missile. He maintained his concentration. He kept his eyes glued on Hera's shield despite her movement, which was far more fleet-footed than his own, and despite some of the missile's wavering as it sped through the air, it hit the shield dead-on.

  "That's a hit! Two more times, Clark! I am going to increase my footing to give you more of a challenge!" Hera shouted as she sped up her footwork.

  To himself, he muttered why he was the one who always got the hard bits. He had taken it easy on Hera; couldn't she do the same for him?

  "No matter. I just need to be my best. No problem!" Clark gritted his teeth and pushed his aura through once more to the weapon's center. He imagined the blast shooting forth from the blade and kept his focus squared on Hera's shield. Though Hera danced, dodged her way throughout her space in the stadium grounds, and even turned her back to him, so as to greatly limit his ability to see her shield, he had a keen mental eye, and the blast made a curve and shot into the shield.

  "Impressive!" Hera shouted. "But I won't pull punches on the final!"

  Clark didn't need to hear Hera saying she would be making his third impact the hardest. He already knew and mentally prepped himself for whatever unfair shifting on her feet she was going to do.

  The process repeated again. Aura channeling followed by the overtaking of the weapon's center followed by a concentrated burst launched from the blade. Hera kept her word and worked in her most convoluted dodging efforts yet; this time, she didn't just shift about or turn around, she FLED from her designated spot and rushed around the arena, and behind others, going so far as to even leap between and dart behind people and supply crates.

  Because he was so intent on landing his final hit, Clark didn't bother with cursing Hera. He remained focused on keeping the image of her shield in his mind. Keeping that shield in his mind while also keeping track of her physical movements was tricky. It felt like he had to use two different parts of his brain at once, yet each part didn't like interacting with the other. No matter where Hera ran, though, his impulse followed. Just as she was about to make another run around the stadium, perhaps back to her original location, his blast, with some encouragement from his mind, made its final flight and slammed into the shield, breaking it into pieces.

  "Clark -- three! You pass!" Salsa shouted, his voice sounded impressed.

  It happened so fast, Clark took a moment to recognize Salsa's intent. He passed -- his shot hit the shield!

  Hera sauntered up to him with a wide smile on her face. "Darn! That's incredible, young man! I might have had the triple shots, but you tracked me like I was the deer that was going to feed your family!"

  Her analogy made him smile. "Yeah, I did... but I just didn't want to fail." He laughed.

  "Sometimes that is one in the same with feeding her family, at least here at Augustford."

  He thought about what she meant and found Hera right. Upward progression and showcasing one's skills led to wages increased which led to being able to feed one's family. A little abstract, sure, but her point was not lost on him.

  Hera and he were among the first teams who completed and passed the tutorial. They waited for their peers to finish up. Watching, Clark saw team after team fail to land three successive blows before their dandy ran out. He though the exercise was easy. Unwieldly, sure, but intuitive if one focused on missile generation as an extension of the weapon bursting process. Maybe that was where he and they differed? He had recourse to train every day as the chosen Dungeon Champion. His fellow workers did not; they were only here to learn how to defend themselves from a monster and only so long as they needed to before they ran away and let a group of more experienced fighters deal with it. "No! It's not like that at all! You're being morose again!" Clark reminded himself of the corporately patriotic fervor which had swept the store in the wake of the monstrous offensive. He can't go and assume the worst in people just because he never had any time off.

  The tutorial ended. Salsa's voice called out for a student as the recruits wandered out of the stadium. Clark thought it would be he again as it had several times before. Instead, it was Hera who the trainer called. Clark kept to her side while they conversed.

  Salsa grinned. "Hera, what was that?! A triple burst from someone so lowly ranked! You must be a natural. Typically, people don't achieve a triple burst until they have had familiarity with the technique. Clark, you could learn a thing or two from her! To be clear, I'm not saying your performance was slouchy either -- you showed me some impressive skills yourself! But Hera? That was next level. Keep at it, ma'am, and you will have a glorious place in the League!"

  "Thank you very much, mister Salsa!" Hera made pleasant exchanges with Salsa for a moment, he promising to her to allow her to pick his brain on 'missile' technique later.

  Outside the stadium, the next class already marching into the stadium where an instructor different from Salsa was readying themselves, Clark asked if Hera had already received some training on the magic missile front.

  "Nope. I'm just skilled. Comes naturally, like Salsa said. Though I do wonder if my church activities have helped to wire my brain a certain way? That could've helped, if so. Not like I would know." She laughed.

  [Congratulations! League Promotion Earned: Rank U Obtained!]

  "I'm honored to have such a skilled magic missile member on the team. If we're to encounter more of those Airheart creatures, heaven knows I'm going to need you. Not sure I can always count on getting lucky with flinging crap around to take one of those things out in the future." Clark laughed but he wasn't joking. It was true. He got lucky during that battle; the arc of his projectiles, the course of the Airheart, the impact, even where it fell -- it was luck the creature sustained as many wounds as it did. Luck he could not count on in the future.

  Hera waved him off with a girlish wave decadently unlike herself. "Pish-posh, Clark. That's one of the things I like about you. So, mature for your age, you are. So unlike Theo. He's... very clearly his age. Not that I am chiding him for something he cannot control..."