“You cleared your debt,” Jiroh said. “That’s good.”

Staying silent, Dallion leaned against the colon across from her. The dais wasn’t large; barely six feet in diameter, it allowed several people to be there comfortably. For Dallion, though, it felt as if they were miles apart. In a way, that was because he knew this wasn’t the fury; she was nothing more than a clone created by her realm based on memories and potentially a little input from the Moons. However, with Jiroh gone, it was the closest there was.

“Hopefully you’ll be able to spend more time with Eury now. She acts like a badass, but she’s actually not.”

“You’re only saying what I think. There’s no telling whether it’s true.”

“And you’re still choosing to believe me. If you weren’t, you’d just get rid of me and leave this place. But you don’t.”

That was the issue with the trial, a puzzle so simple than anyone would figure out, yet Dallion didn’t have the will to go forward with it. There were no tricks, no skills involved, not even a decent combat. All he had to do was accept the obvious and let it go. There were moments after returning to this world that he thought he could do it. However, he had been proven wrong.

The first time he was caught by accident. He had chosen to have the trial on the mountaintop to change his realm a bit. Having Jiroh appear had shocked him, almost making him think that he had stumbled on a loophole that allowed him to talk to her—or at the very least, an echo of hers. It had taken quite a bit of convincing for him to think otherwise. Jiroh had to voice his thoughts proving that she had to be an echo, but even then, he remained unconvinced. Afterwards, things only got worse.

Dallion had both avoided the trial, and become obsessed by it. The possibility of talking to her had become like a minor addiction. Soon enough, he was aware that he couldn’t just quit, but even that didn’t make him change his habits.

“You were supposed to have gotten over this flaw,” the fury sighed.

“I thought so as well.” Reality seemed to have other thoughts in mind… if one could call this reality. As far as Dallion’s mental state was concerned, maybe it was.

“You can’t stay here, Dal. It’s not healthy for you.”

“You can’t cast me out.”

“Things would be really messed up if I was the one casting you out. What are you trying to prove? That you can live your life at your existing level? You know that’s a lie. Even if you pay your debt to the general, even after you find the dragonlet the Moon asked for, you’ll remain stuck.”

Every word she said was true. This wasn’t the first time she had asked him to leave, but at the same time, she also made him stay. That was the snare of the trial. Her very presence kept him from moving on.

Taking a deep break, Dallion summoned the thread splitter. On his shoulder, Nox yawned, then leaped off lazily, finding a comfortable spot to curl up. Even the familiar doubted that Dallion had the intention of starting a fight. He had been through this so many times that all his actions had become predictable.

“Why can’t you have stayed?” he asked.

“That’s the wrong question. You had no problem letting me go. You’re just chasing after a ghost.”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Dallion snapped. “What’s next? You’ll tell me that this is based on some hidden abandonment issues? A fear deep inside me that I cannot identify?”

“All I know is that it’s based on some fear. And I suspect you know exactly what it is, don’t you?”

Nil used to say that. He’d always go on and on that every trial had a solution and that it was something that Dallion could achieve. Maybe Jiroh was just a metaphor for something. More than likely, she was, but Dallion couldn’t find it.

What am I afraid? he asked himself. Jiroh was gone, that much he knew for certain. They’d be friends, though not as close as he’d been with Eury. Could it be that it was the puzzle? That Jiroh was a stand in for his fear of losing his girlfriend? That did sound like something a trial would be linked to, though, in that case, why did it appear now?

Back on Earth, it was said that when one eliminated the impossible whatever was left, no matter how improbable, had to be the truth. Jiroh couldn’t be linked to Dallion leaving his world behind. It wasn’t related to his parents—local or those on Earth—either. There was no way it could be Eury, so what was left?

“Always overthinking it,” the fury said in a calm voice. “Sometimes it’s the most obvious.”

“And sometimes it’s what’s not,” Dallion countered. Advice from a trial echo wasn’t always meant to help.

Why was it that he needed Jiroh so badly? Was it because he feared forgetting something? Did he think there was something only she could help with? No. That couldn’t be it. In that case, what else was there?

“I just want to talk to you, Ji. This is the only way I could.”

“That’s a lie. You’re talking to yourself and you know it.”

“It’s still talking.”

Dallion did a slash attack with the dagger, the blade passed inches from the fury’s neck, slicing through the stone column next to her as if it were butter. It too was part of the trial, and until over, it didn’t fully exit.

“When I pass this trial, it’ll be over. We’ll never talk to each other. I’ll have to rely on dreams, never sure whether the Moons made them or if it’s really you there.”

“If you don’t know, why not think of the best? Maybe it’ll always be me? Will it matter in any way if it isn’t? You know I’m not really Jiroh.”

“That’s not the point!”

“What is then? We’ve been having these talks for how many times now and you never get to the point. We’re already discussed all there is. We’ve gone through every moment we were together since you arrived to Nerosal. What more do you have to say?”

“I don’t want you to forget me!” Dallion shouted.

Anger blossomed within him, then faded away, replaced by terrifying fear. The thing that scared him more than anything after his return from the fury world wasn’t that he would forget Jiroh, but that she would forget him. No, the real fear was that Dallion himself would be forgotten. All that he achieved, all his accomplishments, could be erased just like that with the snap of a finger, and no one would know.

The knife disappeared in his hand. Feeling a strong pain in his chest, Dallion struggled to remain standing. A few moments later, the pain diminished, but didn’t disappear completely.

“I want someone to remember me,” he said.

“They will. You’ve already achieved—"

“I’ve achieved nothing. I’m part of a world that I don’t belong to. The moment I do something wrong, I’ll vanish and no one will remember a thing, as if I never was.”

Dallion had gone through a lot since he was in this world, but never before had he experienced such a feeling. It wasn’t sadness, nor depression, or even hopelessness. Rather, it was like staring in the face of futility. He felt as if nothing he was doing, had done, or was going to do mattered in the least. The world would keep on turning, people would keep on living their lives, the few he had a chance to come in contact with would slowly forget him.

“There’s no way around it,” Jiroh said. “Keeping me here won’t help.”

That was half true. A fake echo of Jiroh didn’t help, it only masked reality, making Dallion come back to it for momentary relief. However, there was a way forward, the same that Nil had told him.

“Keep moving forward,” Dallion said. He looked at the fury. She was considerably stronger than him. Even as a creation of his mind, he would have a tough time defeating her at present with nothing more than a single familiar. And yet, she hadn’t attacked him even once. That’s because it never was her purpose to do so.

“I knew you’d understand.” The trial echo smiled, remaining like a copy of Jiroh till the end. “See you around.”

“See you.” Dallion replied, then watched how she walked out of the gazebo, disappearing into air.

You have broken through your forty-seventh barrier

Your level has increased to 47

Choose the trait that will serve you best

The green rectangle appeared, along with the five options. The choice didn’t particularly matter. Dallion increased his perception once more, aiming to make it an even thirty. His thoughts remained on Jiroh, though. No longer something that held him back, or a source of pain, but rather as a bunch of good memories—memories of the fury from another world that he had the spart and determination to become his friend.

---

Dallion Darude - Level 47

BODY: 35

MIND: 40

PERCEPTION: 29

REACTION: 25

EMPATHY: 20

GUARD: 47

ATTACK: 44

ATHLETICS: 40

ACROBATICS: 40

FORGING: 38

WRITING: 7

ARTS: 1

MUSIC: 52

ZOOLOGY: 9