It was remarkable how much a person could hold their break underwater when relaxed, especially if that person was an awakened. When Dallion had surrendered himself mentally to the ragged water creatures, he expected they would go at him in greater numbers. They hadn’t, instead slowly grabbing on to him several at a time. Moments ago, when he had struggled against them, they had seemed so fast and aggressive, Dallion had felt unable to do a thing. Now they seemed as slow as molasses. On a few instances Dallion had considered asking if he could help get things faster. In one case, he had split and tested if it would help. It hadn’t.

It had taken about five minutes for Dallion to become surrounded by murky water. The creatures were so thick next to each other that they had merged into one into one giant dark blob of water surrounding Dallion completely. The entire time Dallion looked up, using Lux’s light as a beacon to make sure he wasn’t dragged to the bottom. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be any change in his depth; apparently when Dallion had lost interest in his clingers, they had stopped being aggressive. If anything, the challenge had gotten slightly boring.

Don’t let your guard down, Nil reminded. You’re still in a state of combat, dear boy. You have yet to complete the trial.

And in order to complete a trial, I must first find out what the actual trial is, Dallion recited.

It was a good saying, although completely useless. The echo was an extremely good teacher, but he tended to rely too much on theory. Vend and Eury’s hands-on methods would have been much better in a situation such as this.

I expect you don’t know anything about a challenge such as this? With all of them being highly individual and all.

Actually, dear boy, I believe I went through the same a long time ago.

That was beyond surprising. It was logical that Nil had to have gone through this process himself, like any awakened. Despite that, Dallion had rarely thought about the challenges the echo—or rather, its original—must have gone while leveling. Learning that Adzorg had gone through a “water” trial meant that he knew what needed to be done for Dallion to overcome the trial. More importantly, it suggested that the captain had flaws similar to his own, making Dallion wonder who had let him down and now.

Don’t even ask, Nil said preemptively. Some things aren’t to be shared, and I have no intention of telling you what to expect. If it was up to me, I’d forbid the use of awakening shrines. Lot of good they do.

It’s been a while since I’ve heard you this grumpy, Nil. Anything you’d like to share?

Just my strong and well-founded belief that the awakening shrines are a plague on the awakened. Great for war and showing off, but otherwise useless. What’s the point in having someone cheat their way through twenty levels in a day if it seals their fate? It takes far more strength for someone to reach level twenty-one after being in a shrine than a person who has leveled up the natural way.

Dallion could agree with that. At the moment, he was a prime example. After reaching double digits in months, he had almost given up leveling up out of fears he couldn’t even rationalize. if he had the option to reach level twenty though a shrine, he would have jumped at the opportunity. Afterwards, though, it was unlikely he would have succeeded in defeating any of the echoes his realm had fabricated. Either that, or he would have exclusively relied on his familiars and weapons.

What trick had his grandfather used, though? From what Dallion knew, Aspan and his old man had been granted access to a major awakening shrine due to the wars of succession. That hadn’t kept them at level twenty, though. Both had progressed on from there to the level they had reached before their punishment had limited them back to single digits.

The water surface, far above Dallion, started slowly moving away. The eight of the clingers had probably reached the point at which the blob of dark water was pulling him down, even without the attackers doing anything.

A grain of fear emerged in Dallion’s chest, only to be quickly crushed by him reciting the names of the Moons. It would have been far more efficient if he could sing; then not only could Dallion keep his negative emotions better in check, but it would have been easy to add some lightness to the blob, making it float up on its own.

Suddenly a thought came to Dallion—he could still use his music skill. This time and last, he had focused so much on the fact that he could not actively use the skills that he had completely forgotten they had a passive element as well.

Music, Dallion thought.

The blob of water surrounding him transformed into a giant ball of yarn, with colors so bright that they hurt Dallion’s eyes.

What the heck? He wondered.

What were all these emotions doing here? It was obvious at first glance that they were his, some going back decades: a friend stealing his crayons in elementary school, a classmate keying the screen of his new mobile phone because Dallion didn’t let him cheat off him, a person that had agreed to join Dallion’s guild after a month of begging, only to leave it a few days later as if nothing had happened… All those emotion-infused memories were here now.

Wow, Dallion said to himself. This was one sneaky puzzle. His opponents weren’t the clingers, or rather not exactly—the memories were events that had gained form, transforming into creatures. It was them that were keeping him down, not so much the people in Dallion’s past. Now, thanks to his music skills, he could finally see it.

Sometimes, I think that music skills are also a form of cheating, Nil said with a hint of pride in his voice.

What can I say, Nil? Dallion smiled. Sometimes, I totally agree.

Trapped in a ball of negative emotions, dragging him to the bottom of a pool of despair. This was the thing poems were made of. If Dallion had managed to word this right, it would have gotten him an A in literature class back on Earth. Right now, the bigger question was how to get free of it.

Looking closely Dallion saw that the while he was entangled in the center of thousands of strands, the strands themselves weren’t tied to one another. What was more, not all strands were particularly long.

It was quite tempting to grab hold of them and snap them to pieces, especially now that he could identify them. However, when Dallion tried that in another instance of himself, he found that doing so caused them to tighten around him and drag him down much faster. The only solution was for him to navigate through this maze of emotions, while being especially careful not to break any of his memories.

Snapping a memory, quite possibly, was the equivalent of burying it deep down—something Dallion had done more times that he wanted to admit. Such actions were a temporary solution at best, but they didn’t deal with the root of the problem. The point was to keep them and just not permit them to hurt him.

I expect that some day I’ll come across such a mending maze as well? Dallion joked.

Who knows? The echo sounded amused. Items have feelings too, after all.

Unravelling the nearest strands proved to be easier than Dallion expected it to be, possibly because he had split into four instances of himself, trying out different approaches. Soon enough, his hands and forearms were completely free, allowing him to proceed to untangling his legs. All the time, the surface above him seemed to float further away. This time, though, Dallion wasn’t worried in the least. He knew from personal experience that he had plenty of time. The only thing he had to do was not panic.

If Nox claws the strands, will my memories disappear? Dallion asked, while starting to separate the mesh above his head. Since cracklings destroy things in the realms, and the strands are representations of memories, could I end up with amnesia?

The response didn’t follow immediately. In fact, the pause was so long, that when Nil did respond, he almost startled Dallion.

You are too macabre for someone your age, the echo said. Still, you are correct. Having a crackling destroy a strand would remove the memory altogether. I suppose that you could use your familiar to complete the trial in such fashion. After all, as long as you have nothing to pull you down, one could say you are fit to move on. And still, I doubt that would end up being a good thing.

Maybe I’ll turn into a sociopath? Dallion wondered, the thought failing him with fear and disgust. That would have been a very easy solution, no doubt. More than that, it would probably help with a lot of the future level ups, but the cost would be too much. Dallion enjoyed having friends, he enjoyed being close to people—when they were nice to him, especially. Losing all that in order to shield himself from pain and reach level twenty easier was… not something he intended to do. Quite likely there was someone else out there facing such a flaw. Hopefully that awakened wouldn’t have a crackling as a familiar.

Layer by layer, the memory strands loosened up, allowing Dallion to swim up through them. At this point, he had completely lost track of time, not that it mattered in the least. Making his way through the strands actually felt nice, liberating in a way. If he ever managed to get back home, maybe he might enter the field of psychiatry and psychology and have an illustrious career. He would actually be helping people then. Maybe this world had its equivalent?

After what seemed like a long but rewarding journey, Dallion finally emerged from the tangled web of emotions. The water around him was clear, glimmering in a gentle blue. Looking down, the past emotions had filled the entire space beneath him, stretching like the floor of a cave.

The surface seemed exceedingly close. Dallion could clearly see the firebird flying above. Poor Lux seemed both worried and pleased to see him. When the creature received a wave, it started moving about through the entire hall like a teleporting hummingbird. It took a while—and a lot of hand gestures from Dallion—for Lux to calm down. Still, the bird had moved as close as possible to him, hovering mere inches above the water.

So far, so good, Dallion told himself. The difficult part was over, now all he had to do was swim some ten feet and he’d be done with the trial.

Focusing on the meager swimming shills he had learned, Dallion pushed himself up. He could feel his hands driving him up. Each stroke moved him further and further, and yet Dallion soon found that the surface wasn’t approaching one bit. After a while, he glanced back down. The layer of dark water was still there, a foot away from his feet. Refusing to give up, Dallion tripled his effort. Alas, no matter how much strength he put in. After a short while, Dallion stopped.

Of course, it wouldn’t be this easy, he told himself.

I thought you’d have gotten used to it by now, Nil said. Considering that the trials are a reflection of you, it’s normal for them to be surprising and unorthodox.

Very funny, Dallion grumbled mentally. Resorting to music skills again, he looked around in the hopes to see some clue he had missed before. Unfortunately, there were none present. For all intents and purposes, Dallion had ended up at the bottom of a ditch with no rope or ladder to get out.

The thought of using the strands of emotions to make a rope passed through his mind. It soon turned out, though, that tying two strands together was completely impossible. While they somehow managed to make a gooey whole, the strands remained their own entities, refusing to be chained to anything else.

Frustration built up. After minutes of futile attempts, Dallion couldn’t help but hit the memories with his fist. His knuckles met something of the softness and consistency of jelly, cushioning the blow.

Calm yourself, Gen said. No need to mess things up so close to the end.

Easy for you to say.

Considering that I’m as close to you as one might get, it should be easy for you as well.

Point taken. Dallion looked at the spot he had punched, only now becoming thankful that he hadn’t caused the memories to tear or unravel. It would have been annoying if he had to untangle everyone once more as a result. Come to think of it, why hadn’t the strands unraveled?

Carefully, Dallion put the palm of his hand on the dark layer and pushed. His entire body moved slightly up.

So that’s what it is! He grinned. I really must focus more on seeing things through to the end.

The challenge was not merely to accept and sift through the bad memories that kept him from progressing, Dallion had to use them to go forward. And considering the qualities of the darker water, there was only one way of doing it.

That would be a laugh, Gen said at Dallion’s thought. Wait, you’re not joking?

What’s the worst that could happen? Dallion stood up.

I can think of a few things, but go ahead. Weirder things have happened in your head.

Ignoring the comment, Dallion jumped. It was a small jump, just enough to separate himself from the layer, and then fall back down again. Anywhere else, things would have ended here. However, in this instance, the mesh of memories acted as a trampoline, pushing him back up in the clear water.

Pleased with his discovery, Dallion let himself fall back down, only this time, he exerted more force upon jumping back up. The dark water, combined with his own effort, took him higher, and higher, and higher...

Jump after jump, the distance to the surface became less and less. Ten feet became five, then three, then two, then one. Finally, the last jump was powerful enough to allow him to break out of the pool. Lux didn’t hesitate, grabbing Dallion’s hands the moment they emerged, and pulling his body out like an eagle dragging out a salmon from the river.

“Wow there, Lux!” Dallion said after he was tugged. “I’m not a rag doll.” The little familiar was significantly stronger than Dallion had expected.

You have broken through your barrier.

Your level has increased to 17.

Choose the focus that will serve you best.