There she was. Henry's head twitched, his grip on the handle of his sheathed sword tightened and he instinctively raised it until – "CRACK", the noise the stone made when it met the sheath rang unpleasantly in his ears but Henry blocked it out, it was not the sound he had to focus on.

He raised the sword again and fell back into guard, then focused on further away. There, a claw scraped stone behind him and he turned, taking care not to fall. If I fall here, it'll be over, he shuddered, picturing the narrow pillar he stood on, twenty feet above ground. To think he had first come here to beat this very pillar with his sword from frustration, and now... now Kismet knew about this cave too, and she found it was nothing short of perfect for their training. Well, of course she did.

He barely got his sword up in time to block the next stone and squinted. This was not ideal, he had blocked, not combining it with an attack as he was supposed to. Every time you apply your sword you damage your opponent, Kismet's voice rang in his head, you must beat it into your skull most of your opponents will not be armed. So even when you block, you attack. Make use of every contact your blade has with your opponent.

Henry frowned and forced himself back into focus. The bare soles of his feet dug into the ground and he took a deep breath. Like roots, he thought, like roots sprouting from your soles. Your attack can only ever be as powerful as your stance, Kismet's voice snarled in his ear, you are not on the back of your flier anymore. Only if you stand firm you can attack firmly as well.

Henry forced himself to focus on his stance and consciously synched it up with the way he held his blade. It is not a foreign piece of steel, it is part of your body, and should be treated as such. You will not randomly extend an arm or a leg while the rest of your posture is harmonized, so why should you do it with a sword? Henry took a conscious breath and slowly turned, guard up, to follow the sound of Kismet, twenty feet below on the ground. When she hurled the next two rocks immediately after each other, he struck them effortlessly.

"So hey!", he then yelled and relaxed somewhat, tugged at his blindfold, then twirled his sword around niftily, "Can we go back to the lake after we're done here? I'm starvi– AAGH!"

Henry barely had the mind to register Kismet's laughter as he stumbled back from the rock she had thrown his way entirely without warning and caught himself only in the last second before he would have fallen. "HEY!"

"Do not speak like the exercise is over, pup", she snarled from below and Henry cursed as he slowly regained his balance and raised the sword back up. He barely reacted in time when the next indicative sound came from maybe ten feet left of where he had last heard her voice, and the next rock flew at him instantly.

"As for your question", she had moved again and Henry twisted to follow her, "we can go."

This time he struck the stone she hurled most elegantly and even fell back into a decently steadfast position afterward.

"If you can hit the next five rocks as well as you just did that one."

Henry did not answer. He lifted his sword higher instead, feeling every nook and crack of stone acutely beneath the soles of his feet. If that was all it took, he had already won.

"I can not fathom how you still have the energy for that damned parkour after a whole day of combat practice."

Henry grinned in Kismet's direction and plopped down beside the torch he had put up to grill the fish he had caught at the lake earlier. "It's called being in good shape!"

"Physically maybe", she raised her vision aid from the book she had been reading. "Yet you're as flakey as ever, mentally. And though you're making progress, you still more often than not move like a dancer, not a warrior, when you fight."

Henry death glared at her, then determinately stabbed Mys into his fish to gut it. "Oh yeah? Well, as you know, I beat Goldfang when –"

"DO NOT begin that story again", she hissed at once, "you have told it more times than I want to count, and how Goldfang could ever sink so low she allowed herself to be defeated by YOU is a mystery I'd very much wish to solve. I mean, she was never the greatest warrior, but still. Killed by a human pup who prances and skips around like a frolicking child when he swings his sword..."

"I defeated her as I defeated the blood balls", Henry hissed, "one side at a time."

"Oh yes", she laughed, "now THAT is an exercise I'd love to try one day."

"Did it inspire the one where you throw rocks at me, by any chance?"

"Well", Kismet grinned in his direction, "if I do not have any cannons, I must do it by hand, eh?"

Henry grinned and nodded, then gathered up the innards of the fish he had removed before aiming and expertly hurling them through the cave entrance and down the cliff. "Besides", he shrugged and placed the fish on his improvised grill, "I'm getting better with the whole stance issue. You said that yourself", he turned to her, "I'm getting better at everything!"

Kismet hesitated, then looked up at him. "You are. But you've got a long way to go, still. You've indeed a much better link with your senses at this point than most humans ever develop in their whole life, but that is only the first step. I can not even begin to tell how long it will take you to actually pass the threshold."

Henry bit his lip and stared at his slowly sizzling fish. Then his gaze darted at the corner where he slept, and the wall beside it. In the flickering light of the torch, he had to squint to even make out the lines of the tally he had somehow squeezed in between Kismet's own carvings. It had been one of the emptiest walls in the whole cave, yet eighty-seven lines required much space. His lips pressed together when he pictured himself tomorrow, opening his eyes, making the eighty-eighth line.

"I know you're impatient", Kismet sighed, "but this is not something to be rushed. You came here, fully knowing this could take years, and you took that risk because you thought it worth it. Ain't it so?"

"I... guess", Henry stabbed at his fish listlessly. "But I..."

"Why ARE you even rushing yourself so?"

Henry frowned as Kismet spoke on, "There is nowhere urgent you must be, is there? So take it easy, one step at a time, and one day it will all pay off."

Henry's jaw clenched. His mind reeled back to day sixty-five when Thanatos had last visited. It had been more than twenty days now, since he –

"I just don't want to sit around here forever", he mumbled, but Kismet cut him off – "Oh you are certainly not "sitting around", at least not as far as I'm aware. And if you still feel like all of this is not "active" enough for your liking, you can –"

"No, I'm good", Henry sighed and stretched his limbs. He'd almost gotten used to being stiff and sore and bruised all over. Then again, this was a laughable price for the kind of training methods Kismet had switched to, recently, as opposed to what she had tried during his first month here.

"Good", she snarled, and Henry plucked his fish from the grill to eat. "You know the drill then. Eat, then go sit out your hour. And maybe at least TRY to focus for once, instead of whatever else you're doing up there usually."

Log 26/Day 87, before bedtime

So... okay, maybe I DID exaggerate a bit last time. Maybe she thinks this'll amount to something, as opposed to it being "sheer and utter bullying with the sole purpose to torture me". Ten still minutes served a purpose. What a still HOUR is supposed to amount to, I've not a clue. Eh, I've been complaining about it for like ten logs in a row now and it still doesn't feel like enough. It's not like anyone will ever read these, though, so who cares. But... alright, let's try. Let's honestly try.

Reasons Kismet could have to send me to sit still in an empty cave for an hour a day:

- to bully me no wait, I just said I would NOT assume that one for once

- to... improve/train my senses even more?

But how would that work? I know the first time around, when it was only ten minutes, it helped me learn the whole directional hearing schtick. But this is an HOUR. And Kismet's not even THERE to monitor me. Or... I think so, at least. Who knows. Well, she's not giving me sound cues to focus on, is my point. All she told me the first time was to sit up on that stupid pillar we always train on and... listen? Focus? I'm not sure what she was referring to, actually. Maybe I should ask...

And here I was, thinking she finally understood I'm NOT THE SILENT TYPE. We've had such a perfectly synced thing, for the two weeks between her catching me with my sword and the first iteration of still hour. And then she goes and ruins it.

If this is really in any way going to help me with the stupid threshold, it better do so soon. I've been thinking... next time Thanatos visits, I'll ask what he's up to, and maybe come with. Like, I've come here to be useful in battle again, and would you look at that, I AM useful in battle again. Sure, there's not been any threshold passing yet, but... I can wield my sword again, even without my eyes. Have not field-tested it yet, maybe I should... but regardless, I'm better at it than I was before, right? And, like, as awesome as it would be... in that case, do I even NEED this threshold?

Not if it'll take another ten years or so, I don't. Our contract ends with my own satisfaction, eh? Well, so... what if I'm already satisfied?

One... two... three... With a flicker of his wrist, Henry caught his sword in midair and turned, digging his heels into the ground. You're rooted in place, Kismet sounded in his head.

"Good, now toss it over here", the rat's actual voice came from his right and Henry inhaled deeply, took a swing, and threw the sword in the air. One... two... three... he silently counted and heard her catch it, precisely on four.

"Excellent", she snarled and the blade clanked to the floor. "Now that dagger. Left to right, then over to me."

Henry released his breath and unsheathed Mys. As he turned towards Kismet's voice he hurled the dagger upward. One... two... three... four... his right hand extended and closed around the handle perfectly. A mere heartbeat later the dagger flew at Kismet. One... two... three... four... there it was, Henry smiled as the faint clanking of metal on stone sounded when she dropped it to the floor as well.

This time, she did not announce herself and Henry's head jerked around when her claw scraped on stone to his left. In the last second he ducked away and to the right, dodging her outstretched paw. Henry nearly lost balance and had to reach for the familiar pillar to steady himself before he straightened out his blindfold and scrambled to his feet.

Her attack came from the right this time and Henry leaped in the air, catching himself well enough and digging his feet into the floor to not fall. Once darting over her sweeping tail, then ducking under her paw, there she was. Henry rammed his foot into her side with all his strength and Kismet cried and faltered for a moment, which he used.

In a single leap he was on her back, wrapping his legs around her torso tightly, then he closed his grip around the roots of her ears. Her body beneath him swayed and Henry pulled on her left ear, she instantly reeled left and he let out a triumphant scream before something suddenly tightened around his waist.

"Hey not fair, let me go!", Henry cried and laughed as she tore him off her back with her tail.

"That was excellent", she dropped him. "Now catch." Henry barely scrambled up in time to count and close his hand around the hilt of Mys, closely followed by his sword.

"See, all it takes is a little understanding of physics and some counting, and you can perform the most marvelous tricks with your weapons without the need to look whatsoever."

"Yeah, yeah", Henry mumbled and pulled up the blindfold, squinting at Kismet in the sparse light from the creek. "What about it, we done for today?"

"After you've sat out your hour up there, we are." The tip of her tail twitched upward and Henry suppressed a groan. "Okay", he sheathed his sword and Mys in the same heartbeat, "but... why?"

"Why?"

"Yeah", he glared up the wretched pillar, "why the HELL are you making me do that? Ten still minutes had its purpose, but –"

"BECAUSE", she interrupted, pushing him at the pillar, "you must learn to endure the lack of action. As much as you are improving at perception, balance, and raw physical skill, your mental abilities are as lackluster as ever. And even if you would love for it to be so, you will not pass the second threshold of echolocation with mere physical skill."

"So you're just doing it to bully me."

"Precisely. Now get your hide up there, and get to it. The faster you do so, the faster you'll be done. And besides", she let out a mix between a laugh and a scoff, "who's saying there is no action? You always have the rush of water to focus on. Who knows, maybe one day you'll learn to hear the rise of tides. That is, if your attention span can ever evolve to exceed that of a five-year-old."

Henry shot her a last death glare and effortlessly climbed the pillar. He pulled himself onto the little plateau on top, and as soon as he had made sure Kismet was on her way out, he grinned.

Why didn't I do this sooner, he internally rubbed his hands and pulled out his notebook he had hidden beneath his shirt. Henry sat down on the pillar and his grin widened as he twirled his pencil. Sure, his gaze darted to the creek, the lighting condition wasn't ideal, but if the only other option was to sit and do nothing, the notebook was by far the better choice.

He thoughtlessly flicked through his latest log entries, contemplating whether it was worth writing another one now, then he hesitated and stopped, before determinately turning the book around and opening the last page. Henry barely made out the somewhat careless sketch in the dim light, but a grin instantly spread on his face. Right, he hadn't had the time to finish this earlier. Well, now he had a whole hour.

The tip of his pencil hovered over the page, then he determinately began drawing, squinting to even make anything out. The whole time his heart beat out of his chest for some reason. If this ever works, he stared at the drawing with something like awe, if Teslas and I ever get around to building this... it will be like...

Then his lips pressed together and he shut the notebook. Well, more like if he ever convinced Thanatos to give it a shot. Henry went over all the arguments he had come up with in favor of it – It'll make us considerably stronger in battle! It'll make fighting grounded enemies, especially if they don't jump, so much easier! It'll –

Well, his jaw clenched and he mindlessly played with the tattered leather cover of the book, sure as hell this would work. If he doesn't yell at me for being disrespectful first, and then stop listening altogether.

Henry swallowed, then put the notebook back under his shirt. Maybe it would be for the best to tear out that page altogether, to toss it into the hot spring. Maybe that way it would not haunt him anymore, and he would not have to live with not having realized it despite the countless opportunities it would bring. Because as of the current moment – or any moment – there was no way he'd ever even attempt to suggest this to Thanatos. He'd rather sit this stupid hour out silently.

Log 31/Day 95, during still hour

Alright, it's been a full month now since Thanatos last visited so I wanted to note down some

Stuff to occupy myself with during still hour:

- Doodling (fun, but a bit hard due to the sparse lighting)

- Writing logs (same as doodling)

- Kicking pebbles at a designated target (there's a nice dent in the floor for that, directly beside the creek)

- Making pebble towers (my record stands at 12, to be beaten... soon)

- Climbing the pillar up and down, looking for faster/better paths (it gets mundane quickly but this is a good starter for the first ten or so minutes)

- Practicing directional hearing by throwing rocks and determining how far they went or working on that technique Kismet showed me recently to slow my heartbeat, making it easier to focus on external noises (this one only when I'm REALLY desperate)

Hey would you look at that, I'm actually making lists of things to keep track of now. It's desperate times, I guess.

Also, disregard that part about Thanatos, I don't care anyway. He can stay away all he wants, IF he wants. At least he has an excuse for it... well, somehow. Unlike Ares when he disappeared for a whole week, some one and a half years ago. Apparently, he'd had some business in the flier's land, and he DIDN'T EVEN TELL ME WHAT IT WAS, not even afterward! Some nerve...

Regardless, Thanatos is right. What WOULD he be doing here? All I do is... directional hearing. And combat lessons. And whatever else Kismet comes up with. I swear she's inventing these "lessons" on the go. She's recently called me Oidse Odisseu Odysseus (I think that's how you spell it) for my passion for adventure, then corrected herself, saying Odysseus (I could have sworn that's how you spelled it) never actually wanted to go on any adventures. When I asked her who he was, she fetched that huge book, it's called "The Odyssey", a story by an ancient Overland writer (forgot his name, something with H I think).

And MAN was that guy a genius, have to give him that. Kismet read that passage where Odysseus conducted the plan to stab that giant's only eye out to me (for spite reasons, I think), and as strange as it was to hear, after what happened with my own eye, it was also pretty glorious. The guy was awesome. Got no issues with her comparing us for sure. Though how he even thought of complaining about being sent on such a grand adventure is a mystery to me. Still, I DO like him. Just would like to have a word with him on that one part.

Now that I think about it... maybe I should ask her for the other names she's called me so far. If I can remember them. Icarus... was it? And something else. Well, if I remember, I will. Who knows which other incredible stories she is hiding?

"When can I get off of here?"

"You've another minute. Then it's up to sit out your hour again." Kismet's claw audibly tapped the hourglass and Henry groaned, nearly losing balance in the process. Some of the water in the bucket on his head spilled and it dangerously swayed, only by raising his hand to support it he prevented it from falling.

"Hey, no hands allowed", Kismet snarled and Henry rolled his eye, thankful the obligatory blindfold concealed it.

The silence pressed on his ears yet Henry was all taken up by keeping his balance. Standing on one leg, especially with something extra on your head, was unnervingly more difficult when you did it blindly. Apparently, the brain had no reference point if you couldn't look at your surroundings, but it was all practicable. This particular exercise hadn't been an issue in weeks at this point. The hardest part was how his leg tended to fall asleep if he had to stand on it for two minutes straight.

As soon as the hourglass clacked Henry sighed in relief, put his second leg down, and raised a hand to take off the water bucket in the same heartbeat. Kismet did not protest as he leaped down from the little pillar he'd been standing on and he grinned to where the sound of the hourglass had come from. "We good?"

"The hour, Henry", she snarled and patted his back so hard he stumbled forward and released the water bucket to clank against the wall, spilling its contents. "You're forgetting the – what is this?"

Henry instantly ripped the blindfold away and attempted to scramble to where his notebook he'd hidden under his shirt again had fallen, but Kismet was faster. With a single flicker of her tail she had snatched it up and when Henry looked back at her, her eye was narrowed. "Henry...?"

"I... can explain", he muttered, yet saw by the expression in her eye she had long seen through him. Well, his lips pressed together, it had worked the last couple days. It had only been a matter of time.

"So... THIS is what you spend your time on, up there", she waved the notebook in front of his face and Henry swallowed before scrambling up. But when he reached to take it, Kismet pulled back. "Not so fast." Her eye was still narrowed, "You know, what I should do is tear this to shreds, for you so deliberately going against my orders."

A jolt of panic darted through Henry yet before he could speak, she continued – "I will, however, refrain, this time. I will still confiscate it of course, and that until our contract is fulfilled. You hardly need a notebook for what we are doing. And know this, if I ever catch you doing anything remotely comparable, I WILL tear it up. Now go."

She pointed towards the cave with the pillar and Henry listlessly began making his way there, not without throwing the rat a couple angry glances, as well as he could, with the sparse lighting. Where was he supposed to write his logs, if she took his notebook? Then an even worse thought crossed his mind, Henry turned back and opened his mouth but before he could tell her not to read the logs, the tip of her tail disappeared in her home cave.

Henry let out a frustrated groan. Well, this day had sure gone well so far. Not only had they had to postpone their planned trip to the lake due to unusual volcanic activity in the area, but now this.

Henry spotted the glow of the creek from afar and sprinted toward it, twirling the blindfold he'd taken off in his hand. Maybe they could go to the lake tomorrow, he pondered while climbing the pillar, and maybe he could continue the logs in his mother's notebook. He'd have to be extra careful not to be caught though, or he would risk losing all his survival notes, his sketches, his doodles...

Henry swallowed as he crossed his legs atop the pillar, maybe he should postpone any log entries until he had gotten her to give it back. Who knew, maybe he could convince her to give it back for the rest of the time that wasn't the still hour.

His lips pressed together and he twitched, trying to remember what he had noted down on his list of things to do up here, a couple days ago. Henry took a deep breath and frustratedly shut his eye. Tomorrow... he nearly shook his head, tomorrow was... day one hundred.

Something in him felt incredibly unnerved by the thought, like he was taking way too long. Like he should have made progress by this point. Then again... wasn't Kismet right when she said nobody was rushing him? Where had he even to go from here?

The realization that there was, in fact, nothing, was strangely sobering. The quest was over, Luxa and the others would long be back in Regalia, and Nerissa would not be queen anymore. It was the first time he spared his loved ones in Regalia a thought since he had come here, and only now the conscious realization more than three months had passed since he had last seen them, hit him like a punch to the gut.

It didn't feel like three months. Henry frowned, did it feel like more or less? To his own astonishment, he could not tell. A part of him thought years could have passed outside this little bubble Kismet and he existed in, and another thought it could not have been more than a couple weeks since he'd come here.

Was Gregor back in the Overland? He must be. What had happened to Hazard, after Hamnet's death? A knot tightened in his stomach when his thoughts reeled to Ares. Had he even survived? From the way Gregor had talked... the exiled prince bit his lip. Most likely not. The thought stung more than he had expected, then again... as he searched for leftover traces of anger at Ares for what he had done, to his surprise he found none.

Sure, they had betrayed each other, but that was exactly it. They were... even. Their bond had miserably failed, but that didn't mean Henry had wanted for him to die. Especially in that manner, especially before he had gotten the chance to... The exiled prince shook his head. This was stupid. He would not have been able to talk to him about it all regardless, not without giving away his identity. And that was out of the picture.

His lips pressed together. What else had there been? The rest of the conversation with Gregor during their walk through the jungle reeled before his inner eye and... of course, Nerissa.

The thought of her stung bittersweet, yet most urgently of all he asked himself why they had found it necessary to crown her queen, in Luxa's absence. Nerissa was nearly two years younger than Henry, her sixteenth birthday was not for another half a year. Had the circumstances truly justified a premature coronation? How desperate had they all been, and why? And when... his eye jolted open, would he see them all again?

Henry winced as he heard the distinct sound of water dripping into the creek from somewhere. He frowned in irritation and tried to see where the dripping came from, but he spotted nothing. The exiled prince sighed, shrugged, and mindlessly twisted the blindfold between his fingers. What had he –?

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Henry shook his head to block out the irritating sound. His list, what had he written on –?

Drip. Drip. Drip.

"What's your problem?!", he barked at the creek, then reprehended himself for speaking to an inanimate object. Then again... it had never dripped before. Maybe he should look where... Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Henry had already swung his legs over the rim of the plateau, then froze. He was not supposed to leave here before Kismet came to fetch him, and the first time he had tried that she had caught him almost instantly. Apparently, she could hear whatever was going on here from her cave. And as punishment, she had doubled his time for that day.

Henry adamantly pulled his legs back. The was no way he was risking that again. One hour up here was bad enough.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The exiled prince groaned, death glaring the casually flowing creek. Little clouds of steam rose from it and he wondered how close the volcano that had erupted nearby actually was. The longer he focused on it, the clearer he heard the quiet sizzling of the steam.

Drip. Drip.

Henry's head jerked up. Where had that come from? Those last few drips had been so pungent they could have come from mere inches away, yet there was no water anywhere close by. Not even remotely. The exiled prince frowned, yet when he listened for more drips, he realized he barely heard them when he didn't focus.

It's somewhere on the far end of the cave, he shook his head. There must be a fresh leak somewhere, maybe it was caused by the volcanic eruption. He sighed and directed his gaze back to the stone beneath him. Maybe it was worth checking out whenever he was free to leave here again.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

It was odd... Kismet had claimed the volcano hadn't caused that much damage, only heated the lake until it boiled, so she wanted to wait for it to cool before she'd risk another visit.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sizzling of the steam filled him up, like an insect it crept into his ears, Henry sniffed, half-expecting to sense the hot air on his face.

Drip. Drip.

His finger mindlessly traced a long crack in the stone, it vibrated with the sound that now permeated his every fiber. Like a hollow gong inside his chest. If only he knew where the wretched dripping came from...

Drip.

A jolt of shock ran through Henry's body with the sound and his head jerked up. Then his gaze darted at the fingers of his right hand. He was certain he had not snapped them just now, yet...

Henry gritted his teeth and suppressed the trembling. That sound... he identified a measly occasional dripping some twenty feet ahead. Had it really just...

His gaze darted at the blindfold he'd tied around his wrist, as he always did, in recent times. He needed it so much he barely ever took it off. A few heartbeats later he sensed the familiar fabric on his face and frowned. Usually, whenever he had this thing on, his other senses immediately snapped into focus mode, yet now...

It was the stupid dripping, Henry focused intensely on making it out.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

How had that ever sounded so close? His fists were rigidly closed and every fiber of Henry's body was tensed from the strange experience. His eye narrowed, how would he recreate it? He had been so lost in thought, he could not possibly remember what he'd been –

Or maybe... Henry consciously relaxed first his fists, then his legs, then his jaw, and the rest of his body, then took a deep breath. Maybe it hadn't been what he had thought about, maybe it had been the part where he hadn't paid attention to it.

That seemed to make little sense, though when he found his mind reeling with possible explanations he suddenly heard it again.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Henry had performed acts of balance daily, over the course of the last three months. He had balanced himself, then other things – his weapons, equipment, water, and so much other stuff he hardly remembered it all. He had stood firmly on the narrowest of pillars and edges for minutes straight. Yet it all not even remotely compared to the balancing act he found was required of him now.

Not physically, but mentally keeping the balance between conscious and absent so that he did not destroy the sensation by acknowledging it too explicitly, yet did not drift aimlessly into the vast sea of his subconscious, left him wanting to scream in agony.

He could not tell how much time passed, less than a minute or more than a day, when he had finally stabilized himself on razor's edge.

Drip. Drip.

Somewhere in the back of his head he felt himself flush hot then cold, his palms and soles began tingling and with each drip, he became more and more convinced his heart was not a galloping muscle but a sonorous gong someone was banging in synch with the drips.

Drip.

His eye he had closed jolted open, yet of course, this time he saw nothing. Except... that was not quite right either.

Henry sat stiller than he had ever sat. He needn't make any noise. Like someone had turned up the volume of his surroundings, the previously agonizing silence suddenly made the noise for him. It wasn't only a singular gong. It all... sizzled, and steamed, and creaked, and... breathed. Yet that was not what had captivated him so.

What did I ask myself, he managed to form somewhere on the edge of his consciousness... Right. He had wanted to know where the dripping had come from.

Drip.

The gong permeated his ears, vibrated every fiber of his being, and there it was... the leak. The water ran down a narrow slit between two stones in the ceiling, barely an inch wide. The volcanic eruption must have redirected a river somewhere above, as there was a steady supply of water seeping through the crack.

He perceived it as clearly as if it was happening directly before his eye, and not twenty feet away in the pitch dark, and the sole realization nearly cost Henry his balance. He forced himself to focus back on the sound, the sound only. How could he see where it came from?

Show me, he adamantly thought, and as if it could understand him, the sound hit like a splash of color on a plain canvas, painting before him not only the crack but a strikingly detailed depiction of the whole cave.

Henry's hand twitched yet he had taken to sitting on it to avoid further misconceptions. He had certainly not snapped his fingers just now. And yet the image that strikingly resembled what he saw whenever he used echolocation erased and recreated itself with every drip. It's like the sound itself is materializing before me, he managed to conceive, it's like... I am... seeing the sound.

Once more he was nearly thrown out of focus by the realization. Seeing sounds, the words mixed with the noises of his surroundings and Henry twitched, where had he heard that before? Seeing... If there is an analogy to describe it, Kismet's voice rang above all else, it is perhaps fitting to call it "the ability to see sounds".

His hand darted up so fast he could not stop it and tore the blindfold away. Henry screamed when his vision was hit with brightness, for a moment a terrible cacophony of noises coming from everywhere and nowhere at once threatened to overwhelm him... then the sensation ended. He blinked and stared ahead, the volume was back to normal. He barely heard the drips anymore.

Henry sat there, rooted in place, for what felt like hours, attempting in vain to calm his frantic heartbeat. His forehead pearled with sweat like he had just run five rounds of the parkour in a go, despite him having barely moved. Was that it? Was that the threshold? If it was indeed the threshold, why had it gone away again? Or had it all been in his head?

Henry raised his gaze and wiped his palms on his pants, then stared back at the blindfold. If it was all in my head, I won't be able to recreate it, he adamantly thought and raised the cloth to cover his eye again. And if it WAS the threshold...

Henry squinted, was the dripping still there? He faintly made it out at the far side of the cave, yet the moment he focused, he found himself back in the state of strange balance, somewhere between conscious and absent.

He watched the bizarre images be painted before his inner eye by first only the drips, then he realized he could make it permanent by not focusing on the water alone. All his surroundings made noise, so why not use it all?

Henry stared in awe at the fantastic scapes that were painted before him in such excellent detail he nearly lost his balance in it, slipping into unconscious drifting. Until the sound palette shifted.

It frightened him so he managed to keep his balance only with utmost willpower, and focused his perception on what had changed. And there she was, Henry saw her contour painted in frightening detail. Kismet stood in the entrance that led down to the vicinity of her cave, as a still silhouette against the vibrant colors of his perception.

Then she took a step forward, and for the first time, the exiled prince found himself hear her footsteps. Hear her landing as she leaped down from the little ledge the entrance led to. Every step she took only enriched his own vision, mixing with the sounds of his surroundings in perfect harmony.

Improving echolocation involves maximizing your sensory abilities, her voice rang in his head, over achieving harmony with your physical environment, to finally combine the two by discovering you can use one to understand and evaluate the other.

Well, was he perfectly honest, Henry would have never thought she had meant it this literally.

When Kismet then took a flying leap at him he had long sensed her coming. He had also sensed she would not strike him even if he did not move, it was clearly a test. And yet he did move.

Henry barely controlled his limbs when they lifted his body off the ground and into a cowering position, at first he feared the movement would break the balance, but soon discovered as long as he focused, he did not have to sit still for it.

He naturally dodged when Kismet then flew at him, yet when her claws scraped the edge of the pillar to prevent herself from falling back down Henry believed his eardrums would burst so piercing was the screech of claw on stone.

He cried and fell to his knees, pressing his hands to his ears. His balance shattered like glass, sharp edges digging into his ears and his skull, into what was left of his eyes, leaving him utterly blind again.

"So", when Kismet spoke it sounded perfectly normal. "So, so, so, so..."

"What...", Henry forced himself to speak and tore the blindfold away simultaneously. He spotted her glaring up at him from below the pillar and blinked, "What... was that?"

Kismet remained silent for a few heartbeats. "What that was?", she grinned crookedly, "The second threshold of echolocation, if I am not gravely mistaken."

Log 34/Day 99, before bedtime

You will not BELIEVE WHAT JUST

Note to self: Do not speak to the void. Apart from that, I CAN NOT BELIEVE THIS JUST HAPPENED. I'm literally in a state of shock. This is all so... MAN, where do I BEGIN?!

Okay, I'm back, had to go run like two rounds of the parkour to calm myself enough to be able to write this log. Anyway, I did it. Yeah, second threshold SLAIN, and that after what, 99 days here? Honestly, part of me was expecting this to be a ten-ish years thing, so I guess... fast? I'm not exactly sure... BUT that hardly matters anymore. I mean I PASSED it, fast, slow... who even gives a shit?

Man, I mean I'd try to explain how it's like, but I honestly don't think I can. And I mean, why would I need to? These logs are for me, and I KNOW how it's like. So screw it. No, you know what, I know how to describe it. Seeing sounds. That's exactly what it is. Like, unnervingly so. Almost like Kismet knew how it was like herself and found the perfect way to put it into words (which is somewhat impressive in itself, considering how indescribable it is).

Anyway, after I passed it earlier she took me back to her cave and we sat down to talk about it a bit. She wanted to know what the exact trigger was (dripping water, by the way), what the experience was like overall, and all that stuff.

And you know what she said? "I told you, all you had to do was learn to endure the silence, and you would succeed". Can you BELIEVE the NERVE? I pass the DAMN SECOND THRESHOLD OF ECHOLOCATION as the FIRST HUMAN EVER and all she has for me is an "I TOLD YOU SO"?! Not that it dimmed my mood much, at that point.

And then she sent me to BED. Yeah, to BED. To give her time to think about it. To give HER time to think about it. Well... all I know is I'm much too excited to sleep. Rummaged through my backpack for my mother's notebook (she "confiscated" mine earlier... long story that I don't want to reiterate right now) to write this log (somewhat fitting, actually, considering how historic it is. Maybe it does have a place here, with all of mine and my mother's inventions). But I might go and run the parkour again afterward. I really can't sleep. I'd just try to get back into that "zone" and then zone out to focus on random sounds instead of sleeping. It's suddenly become way more interesting to focus on sounds.

Hmm... has this newfound skill any application in eavesdropping? Gotta try that at some point. Anyway, gotta go run like 100 rounds of the parkour. If I don't die from excitement first.

"What can you hear?"

Henry firmly squinted and immediately found himself slipping back into the piqued state of balance. Water rushed around his ankles, a little warmer than it normally was. He heard every wave break like it swept over his very core. But that was not all.

"A... volcano", Henry mumbled and squinted harder as the unnervingly loud sound of his own voice permeated his ears and his focus slipped. His eye opened and he stared back at Kismet, in the dim orange glow from the lake. "I heard it", he whispered and his eye began to shine, "it's like the lava paints an image of its path in my head. Miles below us it rumbles, waiting to one day erupt."

He made out Kismet's faint smile. "Apart from the fact it's called magma if it has not erupted yet, you are correct."

"Oh come on", Henry kicked the water and plopped down on the beach, feet dangling into the lake. "Details..."

"Details indeed", Kismet mumbled as she sat beside him.

"So", he turned to her, resisting the temptation to slip back away and listen to more of the great lava... magma sounds. "What was that with not being able to enhance senses? I mean come on, what else would you even call this?"

Kismet silently laughed. "Nothing has enhanced, pup. You have merely discovered the true potential of your senses – as the first human ever, if I may add. But it has all been there before. You just block it out usually, or you would suffer permanent sensory overload."

Henry sighed and shrugged. "That was sensory overload alright, back when you jumped at me in that cave. I thought my eardrums would burst."

"While to anyone with functioning sensory filters the cave was as silent as ever."

"So is that what it does? Gets rid of the filters?"

"Not rid", Kismet shook her head, "you merely gain control over them. Or are they not active right now?"

Henry froze, then nodded. "So... what...?"

"What will happen now?"

Henry remained silent, yet Kismet spoke on, "I am not... sure." She suddenly sounded very old. "I have... in all honesty, I have not even remotely expected this to happen any time soon. So I've not really prepared for...", she looked at him, "are you in any way aware of what you have done?"

Henry frowned. "... passed the second threshold, yeah, you said that –"

"I MEAN", Kismet cut him off, "you have been here for... what, give or take a hundred days?"

"Ninety-nine", Henry corrected her, "I've counted this time."

Kismet smiled faintly. "Ninety... nine days, eh?" There was a long pause. "Do you know how long it took me, at the time?"

When Henry only eagerly stared at her, she sighed. "More than four and a half years."

His eye widened and a first wave of incredible pride swept over him before it was purged by another emotion.

He stared at the scarred and old, yet so tenacious and wise rat – and smiled. "Well... YOU didn't have a teacher, did you? A really good teacher too, one who... well, after some starting difficulties, knew exactly how to push and guide you. You had to discover it all on your own... and that as the first individual ever. Four and a half years are pretty good, taking all that into account."

Kismet stared at him with a marginally widened eye and they sat in silence for a while. Henry found himself tempted to slip back into the focused state with every silent second, only when Kismet then spoke, he snapped back into reality – "I am... a researcher, you know that."

Henry frowned, "What does that have to do with –"

"You know what I've dedicated my life to? All those years, all the writing, all the books, the endless hours of...", she sighed and turned to look out onto the lake, "it is the very thing I refused to involve in our training for a whole month. That which you have become so good at so quickly it almost disturbs me. It is the art of combat."

Henry stopped with his hand raised, and slowly lowered it again. "Combat?", he cautiously asked, "What is there to study about...?"

"Oh", she cut him off with a laugh, "so much, Henry. There is oh... so much. There is hardly an art more worth breaking into its essentials, to look how the parts fit best together than the art of combat... except for people maybe. But I can hardly study those when I live as a hermit."

Henry stared at her with unconcealed fascination. "Will you teach me?"

"What do you think I have been doing, these last months? I have never...", Kismet hesitated, "never shared any of it, you know? Not even thought I would ever get to share any of it. And then... YOU stand before me. You, who are so...", she broke off, struggling for words. "I have once announced to the most obnoxious loudmouth I have ever known I would one day find a way to match him in skill, and not through the luck of being born with it, but through hard, honest training."

Henry nearly broke into laughter. "Ripred? Oh I also – wait...", he gazed at her, "isn't Ripred a rager?"

"Precisely."

"You...", Henry's eye widened, "THAT'S your goal? To become as good as a rager? Is that even possible?"

"Is it possible for a human to pass the second threshold of echolocation?", was all she reciprocated and Henry swallowed, sensing an excited tingle in his chest. "So you..."

"I had once... made it my goal to prove him wrong in his claim ragers deserve the title of most capable warriors." She nearly scoffed, "What even is a rager, other than an undeservedly privileged nobody?"

Henry joined in her following laugh, making a mental note of the words to one day say to Ripred's face.

"And that I will one day do. Yet there is also...", Kismet's tone shifted and something about it had Henry shiver. "I will perhaps not be alone."

"What are you –?"

"Oh pup, you know what I mean", she scoffed. "I told you before. I have never met anyone with such potential to achieve harmony between the mental and the physical as you. I had perfected my own mental abilities long before I first attempted to combine them with something physical. And when I then did, it took me four and a half years to achieve what you mastered in... just over three months. Teacher or no teacher."

Henry stared at her and despite the imminent surge of pride, this time it felt... like a different type of pride. A type that for some reason had tears well up in his eye.

"You know, you are truly fascinating, Henry. At first, you seemed like such a shallow show-off I nearly made the mistake to write you off as irredeemable." Kismet laughed, "But then... then you find your anchor point, and you relentlessly cling to it until you have pulled yourself up to where you mean to end up, and... of course, you CAN be a show-off and an insufferable loudmouth... but this incessant trait to not only brag but also deliver, is... a remarkable quality. You", she hesitated, "perhaps you are not Icarus, perhaps you are... Achilles, for whatever that entails."

Henry's smile grew, and as much as he wanted to ask who Achilles was and what it entailed to be him, there would be plenty of time for that later. "You think so?"

"I don't have to think", she resolutely shrugged. "I can observe."

They both laughed, and after what seemed like an eternity, she finally spoke again – "So what will it be, pup?"

When Henry stared at her in confusion, she grumbled, "You came here to pass the threshold, so do you call yourself a satisfied customer and, whenever your flier returns, call our contract fulfilled – or do you stay?"

Henry blinked at her and hesitated for a few heartbeats. His mind flashed back to his determination to learn from her, to overcome his own weakness, to be... useful in battle again. His jaw clenched and he quickly purged the nagging thoughts of Thanatos and how long he had been gone.

Then he glanced back at Kismet and his hand instinctively closed around the hilt of Mys at his hip. If I leave now, this will be it, he thought, and the thought was strangely unpleasant. If I leave... I may have passed the threshold, but what about applying any of it in real combat?

The thought had his own decision seem crystal clear.