Tom was a bear of a man. Like all orcs, specifically highlander orcs, the brute was built physically thick. Bugbears were the only people larger than orcs and had a good foot on most orcs. That said more about the formidable size of the bugbears, which averaged eight and a half feet tall and over four hundred pounds, which was a good foot and a half taller and a hundred pounds heavier than the average highlander. Tom was closer to bugbears in size, and all of his size and weight seemed to multiply the force he could use to batter my attacks aside.

  I watched the grounder fight through my mana attacks hundreds of times. While I watched, my three splits tried to apply the fighter's techniques. Cult hurled boulders of ice at Fender and Tack, who wanted to fight off the attack with their blade alone.

  Several days were devoted to learning Tom's technique. On the surface, it looked like he was brute forcing his way through my attacks. The more I watched, the more evident it became that there was more to his attacks. Sure, the man was strong and probably could knock my attacks aside with strength alone. However, his motions were flawless and unhindered by my ice. It was almost like mana parted from his ax and bounced off his shield.

  There were no traces of mana on his weapons, as far as I could tell. I couldn't see any dispelling runes on them either. The mystery became my obsession.

  Two more days passed in my mindscape, which meant that I'd spent, in total, over two days meditating. If Tom was watching my trial, he'd surely be unimpressed. I barely gave the thought any attention. I was close to a breakthrough. I just needed to keep watching Tom's technique and have my splits practice.

  Another full day passed in the material realm. The last two days were spent dissecting the most minor elements of my fight with time and watching him repel my attack from every angle. It was this close scrutiny that led to my breakthrough.

  Tom wasn't implementing any fancy technique. The mad lad just had perfect execution of a basic ax swing. The same was true for his shield skill as well. The highlander was just good at chopping and blocking.

  My mind nearly exploded by the simplicity of the notion. I wasn't frustrated though. Quite the opposite. It wasn't a fancy technique that I was missing. I just needed to perfect a basic sword slice. I watched Tom through a new lens of understanding. As I watched, I became more sure of my enlightenment. Suddenly, the path forward became simple and yet much longer.

  I directed my splits to practice a simple cut with the sword repeatedly. My sword kata became a repeated one-step process of a downward slice. A simple dance that lasted until the end of my loop. At the beginning of the next loop, I jumped back into my mindscape and practiced my new kata with my splits until the loop ended—only pausing to ensure Icy's safety. With my body safely stashed, I jumped back into training.

  In the next loop, I created three more splits and engaged them in the same activity as the rest of us. Perfecting our sword slice. It was three loops later that I gained fundamental insight into the blade.

  The sword was only a blade. It was a tool that was acted upon. The sword didn't cut unless there was a force compelling it to. I was the force behind the cut. It wasn't enough for the sword slice to be perfect; my intent, or rather my will, had to be perfect as well. In a sense, I had to infuse the blade with my will.

  I spent another loop practicing the basic slice, seven minds infusing each attack with pure focus. The technique had been so finely ingrained into me that the motion was basically a reflex—almost as effortless as breathing. It was at this point my perception of the sword slice expanded. The direction of the blade didn't matter. I could slice down, up, across, or diagonally as long as I kept my technique tight and my will focused; it was the same.

  The fact that it took me so long to comprehend basic mechanics didn't bother me, nor did the time I devoted to the task. Mastery wasn't the ability to perform hundreds of techniques. Rather, it was the ability to execute one technique perfectly hundreds of times—I was on the path of progression, and that was enough.

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  It was the ninth loop inside my mindscape that I felt a change in my sword strike. The air cracked with a crisp pop as I started into my sword kata. It continued to crack with each slice of the blade. A smile crested my lips. I ran through the kata several more times, ensuring the same result every time.

  Outside of my mental realm, I calmed my nerves. It was one thing to perfect my form in my mind. It was another to execute the slice in the material realm. I took a deep breath, summoning a sword of black ice. The blade felt as familiar in my hand as it did in my mind. I exhaled and loosened my shoulders. With my legs in a proper position, I raised my sword, holding it with both hands and sliced it downward.

  The air distorted around my blade as it cut down. It seemed like the air was desperately trying to escape the edge of my sword, almost afraid that it would be severed if it remained. As my blade cut through, the air rushed to its original position, causing a familiar crackle as the energy collided with itself.

  My smile widened as I performed the rest of my kata to the music of cracking air.

  I closed my eyes in satisfaction at the end. It took nine loops and over two years of studying, but I finally mastered a basic sword slice. Chasing the high I had just experienced, I readied myself for another kata.

  

  The words flashed through my mind's eye, interrupting my personal celebration. They were a bit strange, obtrusive, and had a hint of Calypso to them. As much as I wanted to continue cutting the sky, I couldn't stop thinking of the intrusive message. It wasn't like Cal was talking to me, either. It was like he was sending me a message. But why? What for? Did he also have to be so bold when a simple hello worked before?

  I entered my mindscape once more to find my companion. Only, he wasn't there waiting for me like usual.

  "Cal," I yelled out. Silence was the response. "Cal." Still silence. I rushed through all of my mind searching for the flayen. He was nowhere to be found. I was somewhat worried and sat in his study, somewhat perplexed.

  A crash of books to the side of me shook me from the stupor. I looked over and expected to see Cal. Instead, there was only a pile of books on the floor. A careful glance revealed a hint of Cal's foreign energy around the books. However, the energy signature was so slight, I could barely trace it.

  An uneasy feeling washed over me as ill thoughts flooded in. Was Cal in danger… was I? No, my mind defense had been tested against the best of the flayen invasion force. Then reinforced, tested, and retested by Fender. There was no risk here.

  Energy wisped over my shoulder, hugging tight to my body. I swiped at the faint energy, trying to capture it or push it away. It worked. The wisp shot across the room and vanished. I searched Cal's study for a moment longer, finding no hint of the foreign energy.

  "Cal," I called out one more time. "Was that you? You OK? Want to talk about it?" Minutes passed. There was no response.

  Aside from the fallen books in Cal's study, the room was immaculate. It was just one of the several rooms I built for my parasite. He practically had his own castle, complete with an aviary. Cal wasn't as enthused with that room as I was… at least not initially. The study was the latest room I created for him. This was his request. He said he wanted to fill it all with his knowledge. However, he asked that I keep out of the books. The mind cultivator was keen on keeping his work private. He assured me that his projects were for my benefit. Privacy was a concern, but I decided to go with it. It helped that Cal never kept me out of his study. Instead, he invited me to join him while he worked meticulously on his project.

  With the turn of events, I wondered if I could find answers to Cal's vanishing in his books. Perhaps it was the fallen books where I'd find the answers. Selene's Abyss, it was probably Cal knocking the books down so that I would know where to start. I took one step closer to the pile of books and stopped.

  This was a trap, for sure. One of those trust moments.

  "Cal, you can come out now. I'm not gonna look at your books. I don't care what naughty novels you delight in." Nothing. "Look. A lot of my splits have been talking… This is starting to get weird."

  The shelf to my left crashed to the ground, causing a loud ruckus. I turned to the chaos just as another shelf crashed. Before I could turn, the rest of the study fell apart.

  "Sog's sour sow," I cursed under my breath. My feet backpedaled as I retreated from the mess, hoping I left no trace of my presence. I might've passed the test, but it certainly didn't look like it. I needed to gather my alibis.

  I cursed once more. What was supposed to be an easy quest to fetch information had turned into a mystery that I wanted no part of.