The walk back was slow. Maybe you could call it leisurely, but to me it was torturous.

It gave me time to think about things I didn’t want to think about. Things that killed me inside. I had been doing so well up until now, you might have even believed me if I said that I had no past back on Earth. But now, all that was crumbling, and I was left with emotions that I had never had to handle in the past.

As I walked, the sky slowly shifted into darkness as Orisis eclipsed the sun—filling me with a distinct sense of being entirely, horrifically alone. Not something I had ever experienced so potently before. I felt cold, not from the pleasantly cool night air, but on the inside. The motivational self-talk from earlier had been a band-aid—covering the wound for just a moment of relief—but now it was starting to wear off, and it was becoming clear that this was going to be a bit of a process.

My legs were walking automatically towards Mayer’s home while I looked up towards the sky, trying to keep my mind blank of thoughts. It obviously wasn’t all that effective, but it helped ever so slightly, and that was enough of an incentive for me.

Before I knew it, my feet were trudging up the wooden steps to Mayer’s home. Down the hallway and into the living room. And there he was, in his seat. Like a boulder in a river. Never shifting, never conforming to the flow of the water.

I stood in the doorway, lost.

Mayer looked up at me from his book, he smiled at me and closed it entirely—not folding a page or holding it open—he then stood and turned to face the bookcase behind him, where he slotted the book into its position.

He sat in his chair once again and looked up at me, quiet contemplation on his face. I stared at him aimlessly for a moment and he simply smiled and nodded towards the chair opposite him. I wandered over to the seat and sat down gently, as if I were made of porcelain or glass. I felt brittle, only an errant tap from breaking.

There was silence for a good, long moment. I stared down at my hands, looking at my fingers and how they held each other. It was almost surreal, to look at my body and seeing that it didn’t outwardly exhibit how I felt on the inside. I let the moment pass and looked up.

Mayer was looking at me with an easy smile on his face, a strange ray of sun in the dark I was living in. It wasn’t at all patronising, not even slightly. It was warm, allowing a tiny reprieve for the cold that seems to have found its way into my body. Like the warmth of the evening sun, even as the air grew colder.

“You’ve been dealt a poor hand, kid.” I pursed my lips at that and bowed my head slightly.

“I know.”

“And you have to do a lot with that hand as well.” Mayer mused, then chuckled. I can’t say that I found any humour in it.

“But you know, I’ve seen people pull off some truly amazing stuff.” He looked at me pointedly. I looked at him, my eyes full of scepticism. Mayer laughed again, a surprisingly soft sound for such a normally gruff man.

“Maybe not anyone in such an extreme situation as yours.” He crossed his legs and looked thoughtful for a moment. “What is it that you want to achieve here?” He asked finally, breaking me from dipping back into the dark pool of my own mind. I looked at him, eyebrow raised.

“I have no idea. Should I?” Mayer looked at me appraisingly.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But if I were to be honest, its something that has always helped me. To have a goal—however unattainable.” I snorted slightly, before I truly considered his words. But silence followed, leaving me nothing but time to think.

“Hey… what happened the last time that the Champions were around?” The mood instantly grew dark. Mayer’s smile was gone—the sunny, easy-going attitude had turned almost murderous in an instant. Then, just as quickly as it had come, it was gone as if it had never happened.

“Bad things happened. A war of a size we’d never seen before.” Mayer smiled, but it seemed hollow even to me.

“Then how about I try to stop that from happening again?” His eyes glowed, staring into my being.

“What makes you think that you can stop it?”

“I don’t.” I replied honestly. Mayer looked at me, surprise drifted across his face and was quickly replaced by a smile.

“Well, I did say that it could be unattainable, so it qualifies.” He chuckled to himself and then tapped his leg in thought.

“I guess that means that you will need proper training, other than just banging some wood into the ground.” I nodded along. I had wanted to ask about real combat training for a while but decided that I would let Mayer do whatever he thought was right. Seems that now was the time.

“What do you have in mind?” I inquired.

“Well we have to make you’re not useless with that massive hammer of yours. It isn’t going to be an easy feat though.” I furrowed my brow.

“Really? Wouldn’t I just need to stack up my Might stat and I’ll be good to go?” Mayer shook his head while scratching his chin.

“Soul Weapons are different. They grow with the user.”

“Grow with the user?” Mayer nodded.

“In your case, ‘stacking’ Might will just increase the weight of the hammer proportional to your strength.” I groaned. That was my whole idea of getting more Might, so that it would alleviate my issues with the unwieldiness of my hammer.

“Really? How am I going to handle the damn thing if it is always going to be the same weight for me?” Mayer stopped, placing his hands over his eyes for a minute, trying to think presumably. After a moment he lowered his hands.

“There aren’t many options. I have only met a handful of people that have used oversized weapons that are even remotely as large as yours—but they only used them because they were obscenely strong, so they can’t really be compared. There was one guy about your build that used a huge spear, not quite as big as yours but pretty heavy. I asked him about how he uses it, being so heavy and all.”

“And?” I asked, expectantly.

“He told me that it was all about using its weight to your advantage and practicing all the time.” Mayer shrugged “Unhelpful, but its something.”

I scratched my head, feeling a little bit frustrated. The hammer was a massive bane to my existence, but I was stuck with it, so I had to learn how to use it properly.

“I can at least swing it, but only really under ideal conditions, in a consistent manner. I can hammer wood into the ground, but I can’t really be any more dynamic than that, my body would just crumple under the weight of the thing.” Mayer nodded at me.

“That was what I was trying to achieve by sending you out to do menial work like on the Jothian’s farm. It at least taught you where your limits were. You might not be able to swing the thing around with reckless abandon, but at least you can swing it at all. It’s a start.”

“Well, there is one other thing that I could potentially use.” Mayer hummed questioningly. “When I was first transported here, I came into contact with a wolf with leaves for its fur.”

“Ah, forest wolves. Nasty buggers they are. Usually travel around in large packs.” Mayer said.

“Yeah, so, one was spawned near me, most likely an initial culling. I ran from it at first before I remembered that I could summon a weapon, and I just took a swing while imagining that I had a sword in my hand.” Mayer looked at me expectantly and I continued.

“When I swung, the hammer was able to form in my hand in the time that it took to get to the forest wolf. I basically ripped its head off with the force of the swig.” I shuddered, remembering the sight of the poor wolf’s head buried into the ground with its neck brutally ripped off.

“Interesting. I imagine that manoeuvre saved your life there.” I nodded.

“I was wondering how useful that would be in combat. If I could effectively instantaneously summon and unsummon my hammer and swing it with a tonne of force while it summoned, I would be able to do some real damage.” Mayer nodded and stood up, walking to his kitchen, and filled up a kettle at his tap.

“Good. This is exactly the kind of thinking you need to be able to succeed in these circumstances. Always look for the next option, and the next possibility when it comes to combat.” Mayer seemed pleased with my thinking, which made me feel better about myself than it really should have.

“But all that can wait till tomorrow. I have a feeling that we won’t have any visitors tomorrow, so we will have time to test out many things. Along with, of course, being taught the basics of combat. Footwork and the like.” The sound of the water inside of the kettle boiling could soon be heard after Mayer had set the kettle on the stove. He pulled the kettle off the stove and then, after a second of letting the water rest, brought out two cups and filled them with water, then taking some tea leaves and placed them in the cups. He slowly stirred each one, the water slowly becoming a deep purple colour. He took each of the cups and walked back over to me, handing me one and then sitting in his seat as well.

I sipped the tea, somewhat curious of the taste. A strong fruity flavour but still managing to remain really smooth, so it wasn’t overpowering. Not something that I would usually like all that much, but it was definitely an exception to the rule.

“You have a long road ahead of you, boy. A lot will happen to you in short succession, and it will always feel like you aren’t equipped to handle it. But just know that in those sorts of situations, you are far more capable of handling it than you feel.” He looked at me poignantly while taking a sip of his tea. I nodded, not really feeling that his words were true. Maybe that only proved his point.

“I’ll try to remember that.” Mayer laughed, and took another sip.

“Ryan was very different from you, you know.” He said. “I had wondered if all of the people on Earth were the same. Seemingly endlessly driven, unable to be dissuaded by setbacks and confident in their own abilities and preparations.” Mayer shook his head with a smile on his face. I laughed sardonically.

“I can tell you; those kinds of people are rare. They appear more in fairy tales than they do in real life.” Mayer laughed as well.

“That’s what I had thought as well. Though it was quite amusing to think of an entire race of people with all the same drive. It would be both mesmerising and horrifying at the same time.”

“There are people like that, but they don’t tend to be the best people. Morally I mean.” I said. Mayer tapped the side of his teacup in thought.

“Yes, I guess Kings and Dictators would fall under that sort of category, wouldn’t they?” Mayer hummed in thought, before abruptly stopping. “But the Champions were by far the worst.” I stayed silent, not daring to ask a question, worried that it might change the conversation. After a long, drawn out pause, he begun again.

“The Champions were wonderous people at first. They advanced magical technology by decades within years. Brought technologies that some kingdoms still rely upon to sustain themselves. They commanded armies and brought peace to some areas of the world. But that didn’t last forever.” Mayer took a long sip of his tea.

“It was when the Champions started to meet each other. By that point, each of the Champions had aligned themselves in some fashion with a country or kingdom, or even other Champions. When they started to clash, it became a worldwide event. Before long, the entire world seemed to be at war. There were a few that abstained for their own reasons. Ryan was one of them at first, but after a while he decided that he had a duty to protect the world from the Champions. It wasn’t long before we were just as drawn into the fight as anyone else.” Mayer looked into the cup of tea he held in his hands. A quiet sorrow was written on his face.

“It was too late by the time we were trying to intervene. Everyone was seeking either power, or the end of the game. There were many who simply wanted to go home, and they were the most terrifying of opponents.” Mayer closed his eyes and shuddered slightly. “They fought with total disregard for how it would affect the world after they didn’t exist anymore. They used shifting techniques that destabilised the ecosystems of entire kingdoms, large portions of continents even. They made bustling metropolises into deserts.” Mayer didn’t speak for a while after that. Only lightly sipping his tea. The silence drew on for an age before I couldn’t help it and asked a question.

“What happened? To the Champions I mean.” Mayer remained silent but sighed deeply after a while.

“They disappeared. Gone without a trace. Ryan never told me where he went—or what his plan was—but left me a few things of his. But years passed and they never returned. Life continued, and the Champions were slowly forgotten. Orisis reforged into one true country—the reason why they united a distant memory.” Mayer took a long deep swallow of the tea, before getting up and placing the cup on the kitchen table. He walked to the door and spoke without even looking at me.

“Tomorrow will be an early day. We are going outside the town.”

Then he walked to his bedroom, leaving me alone to sip my tea.