"How!" The shade screamed in rage as his mental war with Damien came to a close, despite how many times he destroyed the boy's mental form, Damien would crop back up again in a different section of his mind. The mental attacks he shot forward were batted away as constructs beyond even his understanding were launched forward. Shapes, forms, objects that the Shade had never seen before. "What are these memories?!" He asked, no demanded, he saw images of sweeping forests, sprawling cities, inspiring vistas, and the vastness of space before him. Furred Titans sweeping over the land, burning and laying waste to all life until the planet was a wasteland, god's of gaunt bone piercing millions at once while the moon stared down and laughed, ghosts even more ravenous and feral than shades attempting to tear apart and eat victims and each other, more, and more, and more creatures and beings. "Who…" He looked at Damien, his eyes narrowing. "You aren't Damien!"

"I am, but am also not." Damien admitted, "but don't worry, the part of me that's all Damien will wake up from this soon, and he won't remember a thing, but as for you, well, all this information will be quite damaging when it's lost."

Tartarus could only widen his eyes as he realized what the entity's plan was. Beings were only capable of absorbing a certain amount of experience before they gave out. If 'Damien' gave him more memories than he could take in, then like the dragons of old, he would become slow, and his thoughts would be warped and strange. If sentient creatures were the sum of their conscious, subconscious, and memories, what would happen if memories that weren't his took hold. In the same vein, the memories of the humans Faris had slain and taken in banded together, rushing forward to wrap around and squeeze at the Shade, taking away all his defenses.

"Wait!" He screamed, "without me, Faris will never get his power!"

"Ding ding ding, survey says: that was a lie." Damien chuckled.

"You, you! How dare you, Nathan!"

"Wrong guy, I'm Damien." Damien laughed, "but yeah, we are pretty similar, Nathan's white though." With those parting words, the gloom around Faris's mind shattered.

…

Faris awoke with a start, he was lying on the forest floor and staring at the morning sun. "Where… where am…" His eyes widened, Tartarus! He had been fighting, and losing, a mental war against the Shade.

"Don't worry, we won, I think."

Faris froze, "Wait…" Tears began to well up in his eyes, "Is that…" He began.

"I missed you too man." Damien's voice was warm, full of the life and humor Faris expected from the other half of his soul. "But it's not the time to cry, Tartarus has fudged up a lot of things, and we need to fix them, fast!"

Faris's eyes widened as he began to get memories of himself, of Tartarus, acting like him. "I… I have to tell everyone the truth." He began.

"I see, alright then," Damien replied.

"No retorts or cautionary note?" Faris asked, allowing a small smile to grace his lips even as he sprinted back towards the kingdom. The early morning mist gave off a somber mood as he reached the North Gate Islanzadi.

"Nope, that would be rude, also, I've come to realize being a bit proactive is good."

"How did you even kill that bastard?"

"Here's the best part, I didn't and I don't know how I beat him. He doesn't either." Damien's laugh echoed in Faris's head, but it began to quiet down slightly as their thoughts and memories began to realign with each other.

"You've learned new things? Those dreams, they weren't really dreams, were they?" Faris asked.

"No, but that's not important, we need to save Bergan, Minstrel, Minnie, Ventus, and Gurant," Damien said. "And we also need to see whether or not Venka will forgive us, and Morgan, Seya, Katya, Mia, Bartholomew, just… wow, it feels like it's been forever since we've seen them, at least, since I've seen them, I might cry y'know."

"That would be incredibly lame." Faris chuckled. But as he got into the city, his face became tenser and tenser, he released the limiter on his body and sprinted like a Gazel towards the industrial section of the city, where Gurant kept his smithy. Faris sprinted inside, his heart leaping to his throat when he saw a small puddle of blood under Gurant's head. He rushed forward, feeling for the man's heartbeat. It was faint, oh so very faint. "I… I can't access magic." He realized.

"You only have enough to hear me again right now…" Damien began.

Faris shook his head, "I, I can't, I won't, I won't let him die!" He screamed at the top of his lungs as he began doing CPR. Eventually, others ran over, luckily, one of the smiths seemed to have been a sailor, as he knew what Faris was doing and immediately told the swiftest of the apprentices to get a healer. Faris felt hot tears well in his eyes as his mind drifted.

…

"I'm Faris, another patient. Let me help you up.

"Oh? Thank you, Faris, I must have fainted, I've been suffering from fainting lately."

"Oh… that's dangerous," Faris muttered. "Where's your nurse?"

The man laughed, "She's a nice lady, though, she's trying to earn the heart of one of the mage doctors."

Faris sighed in exasperation. "My nurse won't even get me some ice properly."

The man smiled, "Have you been asking right?"

"I've been saying please…"

"That's not enough." The old man shook his head, "I can't see, but I assume there's something about your face that elicits terror? A terrible, ugly scar?"

"Something like that," Faris said.

"Pity, you sound so young. You must have been quite a looker before, probably had a few ladies interested in you."

Faris laughed. "Maybe one or two, I wasn't that popular before. Besides, it's not like it matters anymore…"

"It won't matter with that attitude." The old man sighed, "It's unfortunate, but it's human nature, you have to appeal to them, understand them, then try and empathize. They don't mean their cruelty often, especially if they're still young, it's either fear or lack of understanding, try to appeal. As long as it takes, patient kindness will win them over."

Faris smiled. "Thank you... err."

"Dante, you may call me Dante."

"Thank you, Dante." Faris smiled. He helped the man to his room, and to his bed, handing him a cup of water and some medicine by his table labeled for that day of the week.

"Thank you, child. See, with that same tenderness you helped me with, approach the nurses and other patients, they'll warm up to you."

…

"I won't let you die, not like Dante…" Faris said, his heart pounding. Eventually, a healer rushed over and began to apply his magic. Faris backed as far away as he could to avoid interfering with the process with his slight anti-magic properties.

He closed his eyes, squeezing out tears as he heard the man begin to breathe. The healer let out a sigh of relief. "He will live." They began, turning to look at Faris. "You did well." Faris's eyes softened, the man smiled at him, "You're a good kid, y'know? Don't think any of what people say about you."

Faris nodded, "I… I wish I could say I'm a good kid, but sometimes I feel like I'm just living up to those horrid expectations."

The healer was a man in his 50's, he had quite a few wrinkles all over his body, but he was large and tall, well built, and definitely still fit. "Hmm, even so, will you give up?"

"Hell no." Faris retorted, he handed the healer a sack of gold. "Also, this is my payment for your service, please tell Gurant when he wakes up that I'm a massive idiot, and that I'm sorry and will be back to face whatever punishment he wants to give me." Faris sprinted out of there after he put on his spring-loaded pogo-shoes.

"You know, those things need a good name, how about street striders?" Damien offered.

"If it gets me to Bergan faster." Faris retorted.

…

Two golems of ash, wood, and glass took on a defensive formation around Bergan Briarson, Minstrel, Minnie, and Ventus, the first had expired after the magic sustaining it and protecting it was exhausted, but not before cutting down two of the assassins sent after Minstrel. Bergan had sent them out in a pincer formation while he and Minstrel provided strafing support with crossbows. Minstrel and Ventus moved close to him as he led the team into a strategic retreat into one of the more intact side rooms. The barracks had been severely damaged by a fire, but some rooms were mostly made out of stone and were intact enough to not worry him that a little bit of fighting would get them all killed via ceiling cave-in.

They rushed into the room, with 6 assassins quick on their heels.

"Laesa!" (Lock) "Frethya" (Hide)

The door closed behind the last assassin. On the other side, the door disappeared as an illusionary burnt wall took its place. The assassins charged towards the group.

Bergan swung his sword to meet the dagger of one of the assassins as the others moved to flank and surround him. A screech that sounded like nails on the chalkboard but several octaves lower filled the air as Minnie, in werecat form, hissed and tackled the closest assassin. The two golems hampered more assassins as Minstrel took out a stone and threw it forward. Bergan instinctively moved back and closed his eyes.

"Islingr!" The young teen shouted, the stone began to gleam in a blinding light, dazing the 3 assassins closest, and giving the two mages the chance to stab a target respectively.

"You're much better with that sword than you led on," Bergan said, smirking.

"I was under orders to hold myself back and appear weak, though some of my members believed that as well." Minstrel sighed as he blocked the sword swing of a screaming assassin, attempting to avenge his allies. Instead of continuing ot meet his blade, Minstrel let his blade move to the side, forcing the assassin's sword to slip down the blade and smash into the ground. Minstrel then raised a foot and stepped on the sword, snapping it.

"W-what?!"

Minstrel then kicked the would-be killer in the privates. "Steel-toed boots, you fetid piece of filth." He decapitated the assassin just as the last two assassins burst apart. Minstrel winced as he noticed that the golems had killed their targets by dispersing into their individual parts and swarming inside the body of the assassins.

Bergan sat and began to tend to the few wounds Minnie and he had sustained. Minstrel, who was relatively uninjured, stood before the door. "They'll eventually realize." He said.

"They will." Bergan agreed, "but we need to get as much rest as we can." The sound of thunder filled the air, followed by men screaming and bodies hitting the floor.

"What in the blazes is that?" Bergan muttered.

…

Faris sprinted towards the burnt barracks. That was Tartarus's usual meeting point, and likely where Bergan would have begun looking for him.

"How did you know about Bergan's search?" Faris asked.

"Tartarus predicted the search, he knew his actions were odd, at least, really odd in comparison to you, and he had begun a large campaign of information gathering with Minnie and her cats, he predicted Bergan's investigations and knew the man would eventually reach the Barracks." Faris heard the tell-tale sounds of sword fighting and ran faster praying that they would be alright. He spread his mind forward, another magical ability available to him despite his lack of strength to even cast spells, and felt 14 men, then 8, as 6 of those men died to a group of fighters. Immediately, his mind brushed slightly over the mental walls of the 8 assassins and they pooled together their strength to attack his mind. Immediately, Faris took out several pellets. Reaching the open window of the Barracks, he tossed the pellets in and waited for the tell-tale boom. He leaped over the window and fired his gun, 1, 2, 3 shots. While he reloaded, he sprinted forward and sent a knee into another man's nose, breaking it. He finished reloading his weapon as one mage cleared away the smoke with a burst of wind. Faris grit his teeth, there were 5 men left, he needed to make each shot count before they turned their spells towards him. He was only able to kill 3 of them when the remaining 2 fired off killing spells, he felt his throat fill with bile and a burning sensation in his gut, then, as if it were a lie, the sensations disappeared.

"What the hell is that!?" One of the assassins backed away. "This wasn't accounted for!"

Faris didn't look a gift horse in the mouth and finished off the last two assassins. He rushed forward, taking out a dagger and jamming it into the first one's forehead. The second, he moved to grab by the neck, but for some reason, blood spilled out of the second's throat and they collapsed, choking on their own blood. Faris flinched and backed up in shock, then looked down at his hand. His index and middle fingers of his right hand gleamed in a green light, and at the tips, an extra 3 inches, taking the form of spike-like claws that ended in sharp blade-like points. The shape reminded him of the origami paper claws kids used to sometimes make, but a tentative tapping of the material let him realize that it was as hard, if not harder than steel. Several solid-looking jade green lines traced around the rest of his fingers and his arm, and his veins and arteries could be seen through his skin on the arm, glowing a neon green, as if someone had injected him with the chemicals in glowsticks.

"Intriguing…" Damien began.

Faris didn't answer, he looked around, looking for where his allies were. "Bergan! Minstrel! Minnie! Ventus?" He shouted. "Are you guys okay?" He watched as one of the cracked, moss and soot-filled walls opened, revealing a door behind a minor illusion. He watched as the people he called for, accompanied by 2 bloody golems, stepped out of the door. Before any of them could speak. Faris dropped to his knees and bowed dogeza style, throwing off the group. "I'm so sorry, I let the shade take hold of me, and I've hurt all of you." Before Faris could say anything else, he was tackled by Minnie and Ventus.

You're back! The barn owl said, eyes slightly lidded as if to show him smiling.

"You moronic ape." Minnie said, but a smile could be seen on her face, "don't ever allow that devil to catch you unawares again." She pounded Faris on the chest, half playfully, half angrily.

Bergan waited for the trio to calm themselves before clearing his throat.

"Bergan…" Faris began, bowing his head. "I'm sorry."

Bergan frowned, "It, it wasn't your fault, I should have noticed the shift in demeanor the second I heard you survived another attack from those enhanced children." He looked at Faris. "But." He began, looking at the boy, "what happened to you?"

Faris stood at the same height and appearance, but at the same time, he seemed to feel a bit more mature, not by much, but by a little. His eyes were no longer red, nor did they bear the ghostly-whitish-purple they had been when he had first awoken from the hospital. His eyes were once more their healthy blue color, his hair, had also undergone a slight transformation, no longer was it red like blood, it was now a darker color, almost brown, but just a few shades of red and orange kept it from returning to its natural color. But those weren't his concern, Faris's index and middle finger on his right hand sported claw-like weapons that extended past his digits, and even stranger, a crown-like half circlet appeared in front of Faris with a diamond-shaped centerpiece. It floated slightly above and in front of the boy.

Faris looked at his finger. "I don't know what it is." He said.

"Is it magic?" Bergan asked.

"It definitely is, there is no other explanation, but other than that, I have no words to describe it. I still can't cast spells after all." The boy said.

"Have you tried?" Minstrel said, speaking for the first time.

"Yes, I have, I tried to heal Old Man Gurant, but failed, so I had someone get a healer." Faris felt an itching sensation as he began to relax, as he did, the crystal and crown disappeared into his body. "What the…" He began…

"Obviously," Damien began, "This thing is activated by stress and adrenaline, you can sorta control that a little by actively effecting the boost."

Bergan felt some pressure he didn't know he was feeling slip away when the crystalline growths disappeared. "How did you do that?" He asked, curious.

"I…" Faris began, "It's a long story, do you mind if I tell you everything, tonight?"

"You're still going to head to the Games?" Bergan began, smirking.

"Yes, I should have apologized to my friends a long time ago," Faris said, bowing his head once more. He turned to Minstrel, and walked over, whispering in his ear. "Your contract is released."

Minstrel's eyes widened as he felt the weight on his mind lower drastically. "But… but how?" He asked.

"Tartarus bound you to him. Tartarus no longer controls me, thus he's not here, nor does he control you anymore. The same goes to you, Minnie."

The werecat, back in her natural form, licked a paw, feigning boredom with the expressionless, slit eyes of a cat. If that is what you want, human kit. He could tell though by her purring that she was pleased.

Bergan held back a sigh. "Alright, I will, let you go." He turned to Minstrel, "but you'll have to come with me."

The young man nodded, "I understand. I'll answer any questions under my power."