Damian Voss tried to picture the cup of water in his hands as he sit with his legs crossed, deep in meditation. Damian had been trying to learn to visualise his surroundings with his eyes closed, to memorise the amount that sat within the cup just based upon its weight. After a time, he’d pour some out, listen as the liquid hit the floor, and then make a prediction of how much water remained, try to picture it down to the exact line.

  He opened his eyes to check after he was sure. He was off by a bit more than he liked.

  He grabbed another cup, this one a different weight, and attempted to repeat the process, filling it about three quarters and sitting with it in silence.

  He found focus-based tasks such as this one helped to calm his mind. He knew he wasn’t at the point of being able to sense the mana within the cup yet, but he hoped that might come later. For now, this was about familiarising himself with his surroundings, as well as purging lingering thoughts that came to him whenever he was attempting to meditate.

  He was progressing well through Tier 1, but recently he seemed to have hit a wall with his training. Errant thoughts and distractions cropped up that stopped him from pushing himself when he needed to.

  Most recently it had been thoughts of his recent honour duel. The whole thing was a complete mess in his mind.

  The troublesome Soulgrave clansman named Cael had come to this guild seemingly to establish himself here away from his powerful family, likely looking for his own freedom. Damian had pondered the initiate greatly in the last few weeks, especially right after they’d first fought, when for all intents and purposes, Damian had believed that he’d killed the man with a single kick.

  That night, he’d regretted using such force, and Damian had refused to eat for the next two days. It was a week or more until he’d been able to sleep soundly again.

  He’d never killed a man, or even come close to it. He’d broken a couple of bones during tournaments in his teenage years, but nothing that wouldn’t be healed by a week of good medicines or the touch of a Tier 3, perhaps Tier 4 healer.

  He remembered when he’d learned that Cael Soulgrave had woken up. His initial reaction had been one of relief.

  His father hadn’t been pleased at that. He’d reminded him that if he wished to preserve the standing of his family, he would challenge Cael to another duel the moment he was recovered.

  “What would that accomplish, father?” Damian had asked him at the time, speaking to him privately away from the rest of his clan. “I showed decisively in our last bout which of us was stronger, and I’m sure he’ll fear this family for the rest of his days! Why would I pursue another duel with a third stage initiate? Has the matter not been settled already?”

  “The matter is not settled until that foreigner is put in his rightful place. The dirt.”

  He’d tried to protest, and earned a slap across the face for his efforts. His father would hear none of it.

  The fact that a foreigner would dare to corrupt and steal away the intended wife of one of his favoured sons, to throw his family’s name around in such a manner…

  What did Damian care, though? He’d barely even met the girl! If she liked someone else, well, wasn’t that her prerogative?

  He couldn’t deny feeling anger upon learning the news, as the brazenness of this scion coming here and doing as he liked in his family’s guild was disrespectful in the extreme, but he’d never wanted to fight him. That much, he would have happily avoided if it wasn’t for his family’s insistence.

  If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  And even now they still insisted. He had half a mind to tell them all to rot.

  Cael Soulgrave had apparently woken up again after another lengthy period of unconsciousness, this time fighting against forest beasts. What would possess a Tier 1 to train within the forest was beyond him. Damian was much stronger, and he wouldn’t dare do so without the company of one of his senior brothers.

  He clearly had tenacity. That or a penchant for making stupid decisions.

  Either way, he seemed to constantly be landing himself in hospital. And now, Damian was expected to put him back in there once more.

  No. Damian was expected to kill him. And it was hinted that if he wasn’t the one to fight Cael, then one of his older brothers or cousins would instead take up the cause.

  All of this for some standing he scarcely cared about. Honour didn’t make him stronger. His reputation didn’t help him to understand the mysteries of the universe.

  Damian felt water beginning to spill from the cup. He couldn’t focus on this anymore.

  He rose and began to go through his morning bathing routine, then ate a small salad with a tiny smattering of cheese on top. He’d been reducing his caloric intake for some time now.

  Once he was dressed and ready for the day’s physical training, he made to leave his family home.

  It was one of the largest in the outer guild. They had another inside that was even larger, but he wasn’t yet permitted to use that one.

  He hoped to one day have his own home. His own family away from his brothers and father.

  Other disciples bowed to him as he walked by. Not all of them, but enough did that it was noticeable.

  The Voss family was one of the most prominent within Skyreach, and smaller families had a habit of sucking up to them. Then there were the families of similar size and power, the Falcon and Dartmoor families, who didn’t feel the need to pander to their status in quite the same way.

  The Voss clan was likely stronger than either of them individually, but combined, the Dartmoors and Falcons could dwarf them in size. So it was that Damian’s father, the patriarch’s great-nephew, was so concerned with keeping up the appearance of the Voss clan being a robust and fearsome family of warriors.

  And, so it was that Damian had to find Cael Soulgrave. Damian was considering telling Cael to leave, and claiming to his father that Cael ran scared before he could challenge him…

  But then, somehow, Cael Soulgrave found him first.

  Damian Voss was almost astounded to see Cael in front of him. He’d approached me?

  “Hey. Fuckface.”

  Me? Was he referring to me as a ‘fuck face’?

  Damian blinked in confusion. He looked Cael over, stunned. He appeared to be the same Cael that he’d fought almost a month ago… What was going on? His finger has been severed?

  “Hey, eyes up here.”

  Cael cracked his neck. He pointed in Damian’s direction.

  “So, what’s up? We fighting? Gonna settle this thing once and for all?”

  He was bouncing from foot to foot like he was about to throw a kick at Damian. The man was completely flabbergasted. This wasn’t the same Cael Soulgrave whom he’d challenged before. Had he snapped somehow?

  “I… I was going to challenge you to a duel, yes?”

  “Alright, great. Now good for ya?”

  Damian blinked between Cael and the multiple excited intiates starting to pour into the tight area. Almost everyone around the guild seemed to know about their existing conflict, and the fact they were interacting at all had spawned a crowd of onlookers around them within seconds.

  “I…”

  He didn’t feel prepared to kill this man. No matter how much backlash he might get from his family. He’d just have to beat him soundly again. If he did it in front of this large of a crowd, then hopefully that would finally be the end of it.

  “Yes. We can fight now if you so wish.”

  “Great!”

  Before Damian could say another word, a fist sailed directly into his face.

  Somehow, it really hurt…