Fri’Avgi flooded Yuriko’s Anima with distilled Chaos, countless motes that looked like a swarm of fireflies over her bonfire core. The green light melted into her Anima, the pristine white slowly stained with green. As each mote melted into the white, black cracks cratered out.

Her eyes were glowing golden yet, were also bloodshot.

“Ahh…”

Every second, the pain overwhelmed her senses. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t think.

Use Recovery!

The voice was a beacon in the darkness, the lighthouse in the ever-shifting tides of Chaos. Yuriko groped at her Animus core and struggled to draw out enough strands of Animus to begin the Recovery Cycle. Her control slipped a few times and every time it did, a line of fire burned her Anima and her body. She would have writhed on the floor but her muscles were still locked up.

The Chaos stained her. The pristine white of her Anima, the gold of her Animus, were slowly turning the pale green of death.

She knew that the moment at least half of her was stained, she would cease to be. Maybe she wouldn't die but something else will come out and call herself Yuriko. The one that she was now, the core of her consciousness would die. The new her would have her memories, would be her, but at the same time, it wouldn’t. She didn’t know how she knew this, perhaps knowledge from the depths of her being, perhaps even now Damien was screaming from inside the dreamscape.

So she didn’t quit. If she was going to die, she wouldn’t die while doing nothing. The deep-seated seed of stubbornness grew stronger and stronger. She fumbled for control of her Animus. Hundreds of hours of practice weren’t in vain. After countless attempts, she took control and spun it in the Recovery technique.

Pain, then relief. She stopped sweating blood but the pain, though lessened, didn’t disappear. And worse, the Chaos didn’t stop. Her body was recovering, healing, but her Anima, it was still breaking down.

A leap of faith, a gut instinct, or a hunch: Yuriko split her strands enough times to duplicate the patterns for Recovery and moved the doubled strands from her physical self and into her Anima.

‘Please work!’

But her Anima, though it reflected her body, wasn’t identical. The circulation pattern failed to take effect, and now, the distilled Chaos broke and overwhelmed her Animus. The Intent, the desire to heal, to regenerate, were being taken over by the Chaos, to change what it wanted to, and to destroy at it’s whim.

Mirror image the pattern!

She didn’t hesitate. She reversed the way the strands wove around her Anima, and suddenly, it was as if it were water on a riverbank. The flow was smooth and easy, moving on its own after she completed the first circulation.

Where it flowed, the purity of her Anima returned and the green stained receded. The cracks healed over and her Anima surged. She could feel it now, pressing against the inside of her skin. But there was a blockage. Something stopping it from bursting out.

Like a flooding river, there was a dam preventing it from moving further downstream. The pressure built up and the waters rose higher and higher. If the water overflowed its course, then who knew where it would wind up and how much land it would destroy? Yuriko cast her mind’s eye about, seeking what was wrong. The pressure continued building up, popping her ears and making her feel as if she’d eaten too much.

The last place she looked at was her Heritage and of course, that was the dam. Her inlaid Facet prevented her Anima from expanding, locked it inside the confines of her body. Power will only come when the Facet is built up, when the Heritage is sufficiently inlaid. And in doing so, the waters of the river will never rise, will never spread beyond the banks. It will not destroy the land, but it will not nourish it either.

A quandary. She felt Damien’s words reverberate in her skull.

‘You mutilate your Anima.’

All at once, she knew that one way out of this problem was to remove her inlay. Either that or follow in the footsteps of her Ancestors. Build up her Heritage, build up her Facets and as she does, take complete control of the river.

How? How could she pick? On one hand, Damien’s way was the Ancients’ Way. The path to power before the Empire rose. There must be something wrong with it. Why else would it disappear from common knowledge? On the other, she knew that the way they progressed now was inherently limiting. By stopping her Anima from spreading beyond the confines of her physical self, she would limit it in scope and scale.

By limiting herself in such a way, it became far easier to build everything up. By limiting herself that way, she limited how far along the path she could go.

By breaking those bonds, she would lose her Heritage. She would lose what connected her with her family, with her Ancestors. It would make her a pariah amongst her people. She would be alone. She would be…a Barbarian.

“NO!”

There was a middle path! She would find a compromise between the old and the new. She would not be limited and she would not be cast out!

With the last of her strength, she focused on only one thing. The Chaos could change anything, it could become anything. Whatever she imagined, it would exist! It may not stand on its own should the structure be inherently unstable, but for a brief moment, it will exist! Perhaps it would be enough.

The river pressed against the dam. Her Anima pressed against her Heritage, a network of lines that was the border it could not pass. The Facet was the active part of the border, much like the Tidelands and the Channel allowed passage into the plane of Rumiga from the Chaos beyond. It was in reverse, with her Anima as the Chaos Sea, and Rumiga as the outside of her body. The barrier around the plane prevented anything but the most minute and inert of Chaos particles to enter.

Her Facet prevented her Anima from spreading out but it also protected things from getting inside her Anima.

With that wish powered by the entirety of her being, and in that one instant, she felt the unseen guiding hand from within. There was a twist, a change. And now, there was a spillway in the dam.

Her Anima flooded outside of her body, stopping an inch beyond her skin. It was like the Field technique but so much more. That was a pale imitation. This was the real thing.

She was wreathed in golden flames, her Anima, a banner around her. And with it, the chains that held her down broke. She had progressed. She was no longer a Novice. She had finally done it and managed to progress to an Apprentice.

All at once, the thing that held her stiff disappeared. She collapsed bonelessly over Fri’Avgi, and the last thought she had before she blacked out completely was that her bedsheets and blankets were ruined.

______

“Where’s Yuri?” Krystal asked when she arrived at their usual table in the Golden Willow’s cafeteria.

Maryn shrugged as she plopped her tray down. “Who knows?”

Millie cocked her head and scrunched her forehead. “Maybe she’s still with her brothers?”

“Huh, good point.” Krystal shrugged. “Well, not that I don’t miss my mum and younger brother…”

“But it’s nice being out from under our parents’ eyes, huh?” Maryn grinned.

“Well, yeah, they would have protested you and Zeyn going out.”

“They would not!” Maryn said stoutly. “Zeyn has a respectable lineage and anyway,” she continued with a blush, “we’re not going out.”

“Not from what I saw.” Millie snickered.

“Ah, young love. Aren’t you happy Zeyn’s sensible?” Ishika giggled.

“Hmph, what do you mean sensible?” Maryn grouched. “He barely knows what’s in front of him.”

“More like he’ll follow whoever’s in front, hie hie.”

“What are you insinuating?”

“Don’t deny it,” Ishika humphed. “Who’s been wearing shorter skirts and doing without the tights even though it’s cold?”

“I like it breezy, you know!”

“Hie hie!”

The rest of them chuckled, well, except for Danika who glanced about in confusion.

“What’s so funny?” Danika asked after the laughter died down.

“Nothing, really, we’re just making fun of Maryn,” Ishika chortled.

“Oh.” Danika shrugged and went back to her meal.

After dinner, Krystal returned to their room. Only Danika had different quarters since the deluxe room could only fit four. It had a common living area and two bedrooms with a bunk bed each. Millie took the upper bunk back when they first moved in, not that Krystal minded.

Bone-deep weariness washed over Krystal as she sat on the bed. She wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. Wait, no, she needed to bathe, clean her teeth, and then put away her dirty laundry!

Maybe close her eyes for just a second? Yes, that should feel good…

When Krystal jolted awake, it was already fully dark and the curtains were closed, blocking out the light from the Moon and the Chaos Streams. She could hear Millie snoring on the bunk above her.

There was also a rather foul taste in her mouth.

Grumbling to herself, she didn’t change out of her filthy uniform either, and her bedcover was consequently dirty. Krystal ignited a ball of Animus to give her some light, took her toiletries and a change of clothing and trudged out of the room and into the bathroom next door. Deluxe room 2-C shared the toilet and bath with Deluxe room 2-D.

The baths were empty and after relieving herself, Krystal headed to the bathing area. There were four stalls and the showers had hot running water but there was no tub. Normally, she didn’t mind the lack, but today, she felt her muscles needed a good long soak in hot water.

“Huh, I should mooch off Yuri’s tub,” Krystal decided. And with that, she gathered her towel and clothes and marched off to Yuriko’s suite on the opposite side of the hall, across the central courtyard.

The lights were dimmed but with the open hallways, the moonlight, and Krystal’s own sharp senses, she had little trouble navigating her way towards the suites. All of the suites were on the corners and Yuriko’s was the northeast second floor one. She arrived in front of the door which had a nameplate Y. M. Davar on it. The second plate holder was blank. There just weren’t enough girls from the provinces with enough capital to stay in the dorm’s best rooms. Of course, with Yuriko belonging to the Elite class, her tuition fee was waived, and the coins that would have gone there were used to pay for the room instead.

“Maybe I should have tried for it, too,” Krystal muttered. Her father, Craig, was a Knight, and his stipend from the Empire was more modest than Yuriko’s father, about a tenth per week, if she remembered it correctly. Well, dad’s day job and mother’s paid for their expenses and then some.

“Yuri!” Krystal knocked on the door, quietly at first, then a bit more insistent. Well, at this hour, Yuriko’s probably asleep, Krystal suddenly thought. “Oh, er, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” Krystal muttered when she realized that it was only a couple of hours to midnight. Well, she knocked a couple more times before she decided to just take her bath in the common baths.

Click.

The door pulled open and Krystal spun around with a smile that suddenly withered when she beheld her friend. Every inch of Yuriko’s skin was covered in crusted blood, though there were a few spots that looked damp. Her eyes were clear though, so Krystal thought she wasn’t hurt too bad. A memory flashed, of the time they were in Shillogu Woods and the time Yuriko had Chaos poisoning.

“Krys?” Yuriko croaked, her voice dry and cracking.

Krystal opened her mouth a couple of times, words failing to come out, until she swallowed and said in a dry voice.

“Is it that time again?” Krystal fought off the desire to smirk. “You really should use a sanitary pad.”

Yuriko blinked, gaped, and if she flushed, Krystal couldn’t tell under all the blood.

“No, Ancestors!” she growled. “Urk. Come in and help me, would you?”

“Hie hie, don’t tell me it really was your period?” Krystal giggled. Yuriko seemed perfectly fine despite the state she was in. In fact, she could tell that her friend was more than fine. But this wasn’t the first time Yuriko had made a mess while she trained.

“Come on to the bath. And while we’re at it, tell me what you did this time.”

“I broke through,” Yuriko said quietly but there was no hiding the note of triumph underneath.

“Oh, congratulations. Now strip.”

Krystal pushed the other girl into the bathroom and peeled off the soiled clothes. The coat wasn’t so badly stained, just what dripped down from Yuriko’s bare skin. Her camisole was practically a board, stiff with coagulated blood. It stank too, though not of the metallic stench she usually associated with human blood, but something completely rank. “Maybe we should burn this.”

“I suppose. I’ll need to buy new clothes though. Not the coat!”

“No, of course not. It would take nearly three weeks to replace. We’ll need to get this laundered, or,” Krystal hummed while she flipped open the faucet, letting hot, steaming water into the tub. “Maybe we could get Orrin or Braden use their Facet to clean this.”

“I’d rather not.” Yuriko muttered. “They’re not my servants.”

“Oh please, you need only ask,” Krystal rolled her eyes while she took off her clothes. She wanted to bathe too, anyway.

Yuriko had grown, and not just in height, Krystal thought as she splashed water over Yuriko and grabbed a scrubby and soap. Yuriko sat on a stool and scrubbed at her arms while Krystal worked on her back. The crusted blood fell away in flakes easily, as if it couldn’t bear to stain Yuriko’s radiant skin. Her friend’s back was beautifully sculpted yet looked and felt as soft and smooth as silk. She poked Yuriko’s side and made the other jump.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing,” Krystal muttered. It was going to be a long night.