Faris spent the next two years training his body and getting stronger, as his mind continued to heal, he found to his interest that he could still, with some effort, separate the two halves of his conscious, thus, Damien proved to be an effective conversationalist, study buddy, and mental sparring partner. As Faris trained his mind, he and Damien trained their body. His friends got older, and some began hanging out with the large group less and less, family responsibilities beginning to takeover, Faris for his part had begun learning blacksmithing from his dad, and one of his prized possessions was a small sharp dagger with one sharp edge and one serrated then blunt edge, something he made himself. He had also taken up music and drawing, music because it allowed him to at least partially replicate the songs he remembered overhearing when at school and when passing through public areas. And drawing because it was simply the next step after being able to recall everything in his mind, to control his body to replicate the movements to put it on paper or parchment.

"Faris! Dinner! Go get your father then wash up!" Haya called.

"Got it ma!" Faris yelled at the top of his lungs, dashing to the forge were his father was at work, putting in the finishing touches to a "special project" he was working on. Faris didn't pry, and simply waited for his father to set down his instruments and cover what he was working on before tackling him from behind, the older man not even stumbling. Though Faris didn't put everything into that tackle. He focused on getting stronger and fitter, and his body, which hadn't yet gone through puberty, only showed that he was toned and lith. Which he was satisfied with for now.

"Hey son! What's all the fuss?"

"Dinner time!"

Both Faris and his father's stomachs rumbled, causing both of them to giggle. Pulling the wax putty from his ears, Faris's father began to wipe himself with a rag. "Alright, go-"

"Go wash up?! Already on my way! When don't I washup?" Faris laughed. Perhaps due to him no longer having to worry about being ostracized, and with his curiosity for magic and the cultures of Alagaesia slightly sated, Faris had begun to focus on his standard of living, he became a neat freak just a little away from dangerously neurotic, he had learned how to cook, how to repair bits of furniture, and little tricks to help around the house. It was to the point that his parents wouldn't need to remind him to clean up.

His parents would have been worried if not for how ready he was to get dirty playing with his friends or helping fix an especially big mess. They had asked him why he was so big on being clean, while still getting himself sweaty, dirty, and grimy from hard work, playing, and training.

Faris shrugged simply and replied, "It's not that I particularly hate being messy, but it's hard to do anything and it's even harder to approach new people if I smell like a pigsty. Besides, I think I'm one of the only kids whose parents don't have to threaten to keep their room clean and stink free." He laughs. "So even though I'm busy helping you guys, I still have time to run around."

Faris washed himself quickly and thoroughly, the soap imported from the capital was popular amongst the citizenry. Heading downstairs, he engaged in some small talk with his family, they had invited some family friends over and the evening was lively. As he talked to people, he felt something drip down his shirt, looking down he saw an orange stain drip down, dyeing his tunic in fatty stew. As he tried to scoop the goop off of himself, he realized that it hadn't been just stew but a slug, wrapped in the stew, globed at his shirt. He looked up to see Venka, hiding her smile as she talked to her friends, stroking her long luxurious hair and acting like nothing happened, she turned to Faris, winking at him. Faris merely sighed and muttered, "Not worth my time." This seemed to inflame Venka, but she made to comment, simply continuing her chat with her friends.

Two months after the incident with the bear, Venka had cornered him, before he could do anything, she had bound his body and mouth with magic. Taking him to the middle of the forest she hung him by the shirt on a tree, using magic to keep him there. It took him 6 hours to get down, at which point he had ripped his shirt. Angry, and ready to confront Venka he found her with Anya, who stared at him imperiously. Biting his anger, Faris simply walked away, ignoring Anya's mutterings about a "wild, unruly fool who knew not his place."

His and Venka's relationship had taken a downward spiral since that day, likely her parents had scolded her like Anya had scolded him, and he earned her distaste, her pranks were solely on him, some benign, others malicious, enough to the point that their dynamic had shifted somewhat, with Venka being so proactive and Faris more on the backfoot due to the villager's and Anya's scrutiny, he had appeared as weaker to the kids, and had ended up being the target of assisted pranks by some of them. Many who just the same would come back the next day to play with him or ask for study help. After dinner ended and he helped wash up, he went upstairs to change.

Just calm down Faris… Damien intoned, she's leaving in a month, they'll escort her to the capital, she'll be out of your hair for a decade. You can learn more from Angela.

Faris looked out the window of his home. Dinner had been delicious, despite Venka's tasteless prank, and his dad had played his favorite song on a musical instrument which resembled a mandolin. It was a bit wider and had 7 cords, the lowest reaching the tones of a cello, and the highest reaching the tones of a violin. His father was a fantastic player, capable of strumming two separate rhythms at the same time. Faris smiled to himself as he remembered.

"Son, I know how much you like hearing the faungol, so I went to the carver and had this made for you."

Faris had widened his eyes upon receiving the faungol, as opposed to his father's one which had a light reddish-brown complexion, his was a deep dark brown like an oak tree. On the bottom left side of its main body was his initials etched in. F. S. He had immediately begun to practice, it, and his father had even spent a bit of time into the late evening teaching him how to tune it, and even a minor and major, cord, after a bit of experimentation, he recreated part of a song, Farrell William's Happy, on the instrument, his father proclaiming him a genius, jokingly of course.

Faris turned to look at his faungol, which he had tenderly placed down in a box lined with his winter blanket. Smiling again he let his mind wander, entertaining the thought of becoming a famous faungol player, touring the cities, wooing the hearts and minds of the people. Sighing wistfully, he turned to disrobe and change. As he switched to a new pair of breeches and tunic, he turned too late to see a giant glob of mud fly into his room, smacking everything with mud.

"…"

"…"

Faris and Damien split for an instant before coming back together, as Faris marched towards the window he looked down to see Venka smirking at him, a few kids laughing.

"Why?! I've done nothing all this week?! You bitch!"

"Haha! Better be careful, the room's about to stink even more!" A second round of mud came flying through, breaking Faris's window and flooding his room. With a great creeping horror Faris's nostrils began being assaulted with the stench of a skunk as he saw it begin to claw its way through the mud. Even as the stench filled the room Faris turned his attention to the corner by his bed, digging through the muck he found his faungol, covered in mud, and ruined, it's stem snapped in half. On the same stand as the faungol had been the drawing he had been making, all of them ruined by the mud. He turned to see the skunk, which was growling at him as it turned to spray some more.

"SLYTHA" He said, putting it to sleep. He tied the broken faungol to a pack he slung on his back, and turned to the skunk again. Picking it up by the scruff of its neck he unceremoniously tossed it outside, slowing down it's fall and waking it up in time to panic, spraying the kids. In the midst of their screams he grabbed his knife and leapt out the window to the ground 30 feet down, gripping his crystal he pocketed it. Charging the kinds. They had little time as he mercilessly punched and kicked, downing them in seconds before he turned to Venka. Without ceremony he smacked her twice.

"Ow! What the heck!" She yelled, rearing up to cast a spell, but before she could, he smacked her again, then again. Then he punched her in the gut, his eyes not losing their cold light.

"You… piece of utter garbage, waste of all my time, you destroyed my faungol, my father gave it to me for my 9th birthday because he knew I liked music." Venka's face paled.

"Hey… I'm sorry, I-I didn't m-mean to." She was interrupted by a harder smack, leaving a red welt on her face.

Tears streaming down Faris's face, he shouted, "IT WAS A GIFT GIVEN TO ME BY MY PARENTS! WHAT?! DID YOU THINK IT WAS OKAY TO DESTROY MY ROOM?! WHY?!" He uproar began to rouse people, who began to rush to the scene. Faris ignored them as he took out his knife and grabbed Venka's hair. "How would you like it if some piece of crap destroyed something you liked?"

Venka, panicking, grabbed at Faris's hands, attempting to stop him from cutting her hair. She widened her eyes at his strength, physical strength he had never used against her or the other kids ever.

"Oh?" Faris grinned, "Yeah, I could have really hurt you before… but I didn't 'cause I thought we could be friends, all I wanted was my space when needed. I don't want to get in trouble, I don't need to get to trouble either. Is it because of the dress you decided to destroy my room? Destroy my drawings, break my faungol? Was it because Anya scolded you, or your parents sent you to your room?! So, you wanted me to what? Cry?! The only coward here is you."

Venka attempted attacking Faris mentally, and he quashed that instantly.

You can't even win in a physical fight, what makes you think I'll lose in a mental fight you-

Faris stop! Damien roared within his mind, exerting pressure to stop Faris's movements, Faris staggered a bit, losing his grip on Venka, who crawled away, running and cowering at a tree line. Before anything else could happen Faris felt the wind get knocked out of his lungs as his father tackled him and knocked the knife out of his hands.

"FARIS FADAWAR SER! WHAT IN BLAZES ARE YOU DOING?!"

Faris thought about struggling, but as he lay there, looking at his knife, covered in mud and grime, he began to cry, both in grief and rage, staring daggers at Venka as he did, who could only shake in shock at the 2 years of pent up rage in his eyes.