Shen, a 14 year old hume, was following behind Sam very closely. He his father's temper was too unpredictable to test. Their robes were conspicuous, but not enough to attract unnecessary attention.
Shen learned at a young age that having to wear long robes in the heat was a preferable alternative to having his birth marks on display. The grotesque, apparently seared, white stripes cutting across viera toned skin made Shen feel self conscious any time he left the safety of his over-sized clothing. Despite this, there was also a sense of pride instilled by his father. "Your birth marks are Bahamut's sign of your destiny," Sam told him, "only the privileged few should ever see them."
The two approached the closed east gate of Rabanastre. Knowing his place, Shen remained silent.
Sam smiled, "Sergeant, by what luck do I owe this chance encounter? I was not expecting you on guard duty today."
Harshim lifted the visor on his helmet. "Sam! What brings you out of your study?"
"My student and I are starting an expedition to locate patches of Galbana Lilies."
"Sounds like quite the undertaking. I'm no botanist, but it would seem that it could take a lifetime to find even one, let alone a patch of them."
"I don't expect us to be successful on our first trip, but that is no reason not to try."
Harshim laughed. "Well, there is no reason for me to keep you. You seem to know what you're doing. Stay safe, you two."
Shen genuflected meekly as Sam walked through the gate. He rushed through to keep pace with Sam as if shut behind him.
The Estersand proved to be particularly inhospitable that day. Shen sat with his legs crossed while Sam paced around him, lecturing him on the practice and philosophy of black magick.
"The ability to destroy is not instinctual. It must be trained. Destruction is the first step on the path of evolution. The weak must be purged to allow the strong to grow. It is not enough to have strength. You must have the conviction to allow that strength to grow."
Sam walked circles around Shen as the boy absorbed the lesson. "There are some with strength that choose to dedicate their abilities to the defense of their lessers." Sam paused to elicit a response.
"They are fools, father."
"And why is that?"
"Because a defensive act is only a substitute for lost opportunity to attack. It is only on the offensive when a mage can grow."
"You have been paying attention." Positive reinforcement was rare from Sam. Shen felt a renewed determination to impress his father. "Today is the first day of your practical training. You know enough to channel the Mist. Use it to generate fire. You will eat and drink nothing before you kill cactite with magickal fire."
"Father...I still haven't mastered that spell..."
"Hunger will be your tutor. Now go!"
After six hours of hunting in the sun, Shen was dehydrated and exhausted. All of his attempts at magick thus far had only been a few sparks extending from his fingers; not enough to harm anything. Each attempt drained him for a few minutes, giving his prey a chance to retaliate. A few spots on his blue robes were stained with blood where stray cactite needles pierced his skin.
Sam watched from a distance, comfortable in the shade of a rocky overhang. He tempered his impatience with a copy of Halim Ondore IV's Memoirs, some light reading for the day. Breakfast and lunch passed, depleting Sam's reserves of trail mix and a modestly sized water skin.
Shen tried once again to corner a small cactite. This one had a spot a blood on one of its appendages, indicating to Shen that this may be the same creature that had delivered a very painful slap to his face on his third attempt. Shen brought his hands out in front of him, miming a fireball.
"Payback time."
A few sparks of energy rattled between his fingers, and then, nothing. The cactite let out a shrill cry. In less than a second, a large, flowering cactoid dropped from a nearby ledge in front of Shen, kicking up sand and dust. Shen attempted turn and run, but tripped over his own robes. With barely enough strength to bring himself up on his hands and knees, he began to crawl away before a set of large needles found their way into his back. His body collapsed back into the ground and his head was buried in sand.
Shen looked up to his father in the distance. He could see the disgust in his eyes. Shen couldn't bear the thought of being judged as weak by his father. He raised one hand up to attempt another spell before a second slap threw him against the rock wall. It felt cold, but Shen couldn't tell if it was due to the shade or blood loss. The flowering cactoid towered over him. Shen had no choice but to put that last of his energy and effort into his magick.
"I am strong. You are my stepping stone to greatness. Now burn!" Fueled by determination and frustration, Shen's chest tightened as an explosion erupted from his hand. He collapsed forward as the cactoid and its smaller counterpart keeled over.
Once again reduced to his hands and knees, Shen crawled toward his kill to enjoy his conquest as he was instructed to. Sam wasted little time to come to his pupil's side.
"You've done well enough, though that spell was less fire and more disorganized arcane energy. Now drink your fill before the Estersand claims you."
Sam carved a small hole on a needless patch on the cactoid's body. Shen drank desperately as the creature's vital fluids leaked out.
"We shall make camp here. It is best you don't aggravate your wounds."
Shen, still to parched to speak, continued to drink from his kill. Sam began too lecture Shen with compliments disguised as insults as he started a fire and set up camp, but his words began to run together into an unintelligible mess in Shen's ears. The world around him similarly began to lose it's sharp edges, then its shape.
Sam's face disappeared behind the shadow of his cowl, and the wolves in the distance darted back and forth on what was left of the horizon in the form of shadows and demons. Trying to find focus, Shen stared into the fire. In the embers he saw Bahamut's eyes starring back. The dragon's head exploded from the flames and to speak to Shen.
"You belong to me, mind, body, and soul. All you do and all you are is my will. Serve me in all you do, or know only the flames of my wrath."
Shen, frightened, stumbled back against the rock wall. His hand landed on a spot of his own blood from a minute before. Looking at his hand revealed an ocean of blood. Shen tumbled down into the sanguine expanse, his lungs filling with blood as he fell unconscious.