There's something on the horizon.

  Night after night, I walk through the unknown to unravel it. Within those nights, when I look at the moon that I have already regained, it bleeds. Bleeds to death. It bleeds until the dream floods, and I'm forced out.

  There's something on the horizon. That's me. Again, me. As always, me. Me, me, me. In another form. In another past. In another body. But me. Always me.

  When the Blood Moon comes, the I who despise me will tear off my skin to get out of the doll that hid inside and use it to cover the sun with the moon. The self I also despise must prevent him from burning this world.

  Succeed where I failed last time.

  I still can't forget the smell of burning meat.

  I channel and feel the comfortable acid burn run through my veins, then weld my aura and base it on steel. I rise a textured black barrier that seems to move between physical states. Reinforcing It with mana, the barrier blocks the attack just in time for the flash of light to explode inches from my face.

  Magic is based on concepts. Stone is naturally tougher than flesh, and the difference will be maintained when I intensify the two. The shadows I used were inefficient as solids. Morgana scolded me about it and forced me to start using pure aura instead of them for building.

  The barrier shatters, but the attack doesn't hit me. The hero, on the other side of the field, conjures another lightning in his hands and smiles. It worked. I don't waste time and invest, I intensify speed and create more aura as I move.

  Blades burst in the direction of the hero, a red trail pierces the sunny battlefield. He throws the lightning and hits one of the swords, I defend myself with another barrier, but I am forced back. With his halberd, Hoffstein turns on his own axis and trims each of them, then moves forward against me.

  I gather and ignite the wind, then compress it until it glows in warmth. “Ignite.” I repeat the enchantment at high speed and explode the sphere. Flames consume the earth as I am thrown to the other side.

  I face the flames and, despite the certainty of the hit, Hoffstein walks out of the attack, protected by a golden barrier. I use another blast to slow down and stop my fall to the ground, then inhale.

  “Are you tired?” Hoffstein says. “We can stop if you want!”

  If it wasn't for him, I'd think he was mocking me. But no. He's just like that, really. I wanted to say that he is an idiot, smiling endlessly around, but he must be a genius. Of course, I'd also be being mean for no reason.

  Still, he's strong. Strangely strong, since a man of this size should not be so fast. Annoyingly strong, because it doesn't seem to make sense. Unbearably strong, just because.

  Much stronger than Aldwyn, and I haven't even reached his level yet.

  I grit my teeth. “No.” I say, then I channel.

  Heat warms the air behind my palms and I propel myself in a blast. Allied to heightened speed, I tear the sound apart and breach its barrier, leaving a path of dust and destruction behind. I move using fire, changing my direction sharply and surrounding him.

  Hoffstein jumps out of the encirclement, and I bombard him with Spheres in midair. The sky turns orange for half a second and, despite almost impossible parries and deflections, some spheres hit and take you to the ground.

  He rolls to regain his position, and I follow him. He launches his halberd like a projectile, then falls to the ground and dives into the shadow to escape. I emerge behind the man, an aura Blade forms in my hand and cuts the wind—then it is trimmed by the Hero's hand.

  He clenches his fist and punches my chest. I feel the air leak out before the impact that follows hurls me a mile away and detonates in gold against a stone wall. I protect myself with barriers, but the attack was enough to weaken the structure of the rocks. A landslide follows, burying me along with dozens of trees.

  Minutes pass. After the destruction is over, I touch one of the stones and focus the aura until it passes the three states. Morgana taught me that in addition to the solid, liquid and gaseous, there is another state called ‘plasma’. Although unstable, if I focus long enough and attribute its properties to it long enough...

  Red shines from my hands and pierces rock like butter. I propel myself out of the Earth and land on the ground, taking a deep breath.

  Hoffstein approaches, a halberd on his shoulder. “That's enough. You fought well.”

  My leg trembles, I feel the taste of blood in my mouth. “Huh? What're you talking about? I can still fight.”

  “Power is not duty. You still need to recover.”

  “I've rested too much.” I smile to myself. “Observe.”

  Channeling, Hoffstein stands guard, but is taken by surprise. I create a thorn of shadow on your back and-

  A sapphire light streaks across the field and freezes my hand before I finish casting. Hoffstein doesn't seem impressed by the construct, so I imagine it wouldn't have worked. Still-

  “Morgana?!” I say.

  The fairy watches us, her pristine, ethereal form almost glows blue. “I warned him that I would interfere if he used magic wrong. You've already lost an arm for not fighting right, using tactics inferior to the ones I taught you. Fire to destroy, aura to build, shadow to hide. If you cast a solid using shadows again, I'll rip off your other arm.”

  I face Morgana. Something tells me she means it, which makes her speech sincere. No, if this is a training, then she knows what she does. She knows I know she can't bluff. He's using it against me to force me to stop training.

  I can see how it works better now. It won't work.

  “… Sieghart?” Hoffstein says. “It's okay. We can stop.”

  “No.” I Face Morgana. The fairy returns his gaze and frowns. I turn to Hoffstein. “Not yet. One more fight. Just one more.”

  In fact, I've said it three times. But I don't want to miss a magic and end up cotoco, so this time I'm serious.

  Hoffstein sighs. “Very well. Return to your post.”

  I do as told. We put ourselves tens of meters from each other. I can cross that distance in a second, but I need a few to charge the propulsion to do that.

  If each material in the world has its own concept, then aura, which is the physical manifestation of it, should be the closest thing to chaos. Even if I use materials as a base to build it, it will never be as strong as they are. But it doesn't have to be. The function of the aura is to apply chaos that I can't normally do. Normally, I would make Hoffstein's control run amok. It would make him confused, have an opening, and then beat him.

  But that doesn't work with him. For some reason, chaos does not affect Hoffstein. No, it affects, but it does not work.

  I need to get back to basics.

  Manipulation, intensification, and illusion. Everyone has specific levels of affinities with the types of magic. I'm great at conjuring, good at Illusions and decent at intensification. Hoffstein prefers intensification, then manipulation and finally illusion. I should be able to put him in a good illusion, but he knows and has enough power to escape.

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  But I can still use minor illusions to catch you by surprise. And yet, I have a trick up my sleeve. The same one I used to win from Aldwyn.

  A hole opens in the shadows. “Ignite.” I say, and save the fireball. As I grieve, I feed the sphere until it becomes giant. When he got tired, I would throw it directly. I'll use illusion to distract you. I will overcome your strength with magic.

  I smile to myself. It'll work out.

  Morgana reluctantly puts her hand up to start the beginning of the tenth round. Nine to zero.

  She lowers it. The match begins and I retreat. Hoffstein strides forward, his halberd ripping the air.

  Keep your distance.

  I move using fire to throw myself and attack at the same time, it changes direction and throws the halberd to throw me off balance, I spin in the air and get out of the way.

  I propel myself directly, he brandishes the gun in my direction but hits the air. A clone. One second of distraction is enough for another explosion to take you by surprise. His feet dig into the rock, but he is not distracted by the wound and punches me in the stomach.

  Pain spreads and for half a second I'm almost sure something has exploded inside me, but I push through the pain and conjure thorns of aura around me. They pop up, big and gnarled, and explode with speed all around me.

  Blood—and it's not mine. Hoffstein bleeds as he prevents one of the thorns from reaching his chest, but is pierced by others. Its golden aura destroys its tips. He steps on the floor and his body glows for a second.

  I don't stand by and wait. I propel myself out as I watch Hoffstein explode and get rid of the Thorns, then jump up and slam the Halberd axe to the ground. The earth shakes, and with geomancy he climbs stone pillars in my direction.

  My body is hit and falls apart. Another clone to get your attention while I maximize speed on the other side. I land, breathe in and capitalize on the opening. Red Plasma is thrown from my hands like lightning. They crash into Hoffstein, trimming off most of the damage with the Halberd.

  But the unthinkable occurs. Even holding on to stay on the same level as mine, Hoffstein walks, step by step, through the plasma. The red environment and the rays of power do not prevent you from gnashing your teeth and walking through my spell. One step. Two.

  Impossible.

  He speeds up.

  Hoffstein runs through the plasma. The man forces himself against the magic, then spins out of his reach for a second, concentrates, and throws the Halberd. Glowing in fire, the weapon cuts through magic like a knife cuts through butter. I throw myself down so she doesn't split me in half, but I refuse to lose momentum. I roll and open the shade again.

  If I can't win, then I'll force him into a draw.

  The fireball rises from the darkness and shines like a second sun. I join my hands on the signal to increase my emission, maximize it and-

  “SIEGHART, NO-”

  Hoffstein advances. He approaches and widens his eyes, then drops his halberd and envelops me.

  A flash explodes in the field. Fire spreads through the Earth and through the air, but it does not reach me. I feel part of my skin burn, but the searing pain never hits me. A few seconds pass. A cloud of dust and heat envelops the battlefield.

  Morgana cools him, looking from side to side. My blurred vision soon returns to normal next to the ringing ears.

  A shadow looms over me.

  Smoke covers Hoffstein's body. Behind her, some burns and injuries regenerate. The hero inhales, his brow furrowed in serious countenance.

  The first instinct is always the worst. This time, I was disappointed that I didn't burn him alive. I look around. Stones, much stronger than meat, melted. Still hot ash throws smoke and steam into the air and makes it unbearably hot.

  The second instinct was slow to arrive. But it came. It's always enough.

  Hoffstein didn't attack me. He protected me from being blown up by my own spell.

  “Shit. I'm sorry.” I say and trying to get up, but my legs give way and I fall again, but one hand holds me so that I do not hit the ground.

  Hoffstein sits me on the floor. “Calm down. Stay calm.” He says, then lowers himself, analyzing me to see if there are any burns on my body.

  “I almost blew them up. I'm sorry. Me -”

  Your hand weighs on my shoulder. “I know. It's OK.”

  “…”

  “Are you okay?”

  I lower my head and wander my eyes to the ground before answering. “Yes. Thanks.”

  “Good.”

  Morgana hurries. Her serious face takes on a colder proportion when she sees me, pausing for a second to confirm that I'm okay. She clenches her fist, but inhales and strokes my hair. “Don't do that.” She says, every word heavy as an anchor.

  I nod.

  “That's all for today.” He says. “Aye, I'll let you win that one. If I hadn't protected you and the attack was more controlled, you would have won. It's impressive.”

  “Winning from someone using a tenth of the force is not 'impressive'.”

  “If it's a fourteen-year-old against me, then, yes, it is.”

  I breathe in and get up. “I will train more.”

  Hoffstein stares at me, then turns to Morgana. “If you don't mind, can I talk to him alone for a minute?”

  Morgana is silent for a few seconds before answering, but relents with a nod. His form slowly falls apart, his eyes are the last to go, still watching me.

  “What is it?” I say.

  “What's going on? Is it Aldwyn who made you obsessed like that?”

  “… You're very direct, aren't you?”

  “Aye. I'm not going to say a thousand things to say one. I want to help you, and I need an answer to that.”

  Burned bodies. A Blood Moon.

  Everything will repeat itself. I failed. No matter how strong, what's the point if everywhere I walk rots?

  “There is nothing wrong.”

  “… Did I ever tell you the first time I killed a man?”

  “How is it?”

  “I was ten. He was strong. Two thugs tried to rob a lady. They underestimated me. The first one fell hard when I hit a kick, the second one tried to come up when I was distracted and I reacted. I didn't mean to do that, but…” He shrugs. “I crushed his head with a brick. Ha!”

  “Would you do it again?”

  “Aye.”

  “Really? You don't strike me as the bloodthirsty type.”

  “I am not, but if the decision is to take a life, and I am between my own, a lady's and a bandit's, I will kill the Bandit, even if I prefer not to.” He says. “But it doesn't seem fair, does it? The situation was fair, of course, I did what I should. But it's a bag. Not everyone needs to die because of a bag. Especially for an accident.”

  “Well done to them.”

  “Indeed. But I could have prevented it. And therefore, it should have. He could potentially have a decent life ahead of him. I am guilty of taking away that possibility.”

  “You did the right thing.”

  “And you too.”

  “I failed. It's different.”

  Hoffstein crosses his arms. “And there it is. Nothing wrong, huh?”

  I frown. “So what?”

  “Tell me, Sieghart, I'm guilty of something, but I wasn't wrong. Theoretically, there's no reason to punish me for saving a lady. But the evil—the tiny spark of evil that was released by that act—still exists. Guilt or not, there is. Who will pay for it? What will happen?”

  “…”

  “There is no perfect justice in an imperfect world. Fallen beings are what we are. It's impossible.”

  “… So what do we do?”

  “We do what you did: the best we could.”

  The best we could. It must be nice to say that I did what I could, to comfort myself by saying that what I did is good because I did what I could do. But this, of course, is a lie. It is clear that humanity wants to destroy me: there is no reason to trust me. Quite the opposite.

  When it was my turn to choose, I shook the hand of a demon and let it take control. If I hadn't—if I had followed the right path from the beginning-maybe none of this would have happened. I did not do the best, but in the face of all the disgrace I committed,

  “I did only what I should.”

  “It was extraordinary.”

  “I am expected to be.”

  “No. It is expected to fall.”

  “So I went as expected.”

  “… You judge yourself too much, Sieghart. You made a mistake, it's true. But the lives of heroes are full of mistakes and scars. Until it's over, a hero's life is always a tragedy.” He says. “Everyone will get what they owe in the end, and your story is not over yet.”

  The king who separates the heavens from the Earth.

  I breathe in. It's true. This story is not over yet. I must still find The Lion and break the unholy trinity. This is my role, all mine, only mine, to fulfill.

  A king does not complain or rest, does not mix with the people or is part of it, but is chosen to deal with what they cannot. But there is no reason for them to believe that the Chosen King can do his job, and the king there is no reason to let unreliable peasants near him. Normalcy should be deserved, but the truth is that there is no reason to be desired. The burden is lonely. That's how it's always been. This is how it will always be.

  There's no reason for them to trust me. There's no reason for me to trust them. This is the weight that is mine to carry. All mine. Just me.

  Hoffstein stares at me, his expression neutral and unreadable. He takes a step forward and tries to get closer, but I take a step back and avoid him.

  “I understood. Never mind.” I say.

  The hero lets the argument dissolve. “… I suppose.”

  “I'm sorry.” I don't feel it. “I cannot give you a satisfactory answer. Anyway, the training is going well, but something is missing.”

  Hoffstein inspires. “… Aye. Arcane magic is linked to technique and knowledge. The divine, metamagia, is more linked to mastery and inner discovery. Let Morgana deal with the arcane, I deal with the divine.” He says. “From tomorrow, we will start a new training. There is an elf village nearby, let's get some calves and carry them.”

  “How is it? How will this help me?”

  “It will develop your body, which is important for intensification. Besides, it's about mentality. It's training, effort, discipline. It will help you control the chaos and keep your head in place. There will be others, of course. But by the end of this summer, you'll be carrying an ox on your head without magic!”

  “I'm not you. That's impossible.”

  He spits out a laugh. “Chicken.”

  “I know you want to get into my head. And it will work out. I'll carry that ox just to rub it in your face.”

  “AYE!” Hoffstein laughs. “That's right!”

  A laugh.

  “Right. Get ready, we…”Hoffstein stops.

  They say the the fairy world is like a mosquito - something you only notice after it has bitten you. A shiver runs down my spine and I look at the horizon.

  “There's something here.” I say.

  “… Yes We stayed in the same place for a long time. It's time to go.”

  I nod, then get ready to go to the hut. I turn my gaze to Hoffstein and see the man still standing looking at the horizon. “What is it?”

  “… That's not normal. Hurry up.”