Manfor scowled as he led his friends and fellow villagers. They had recently escaped the rebel forces, deserted their troops, and would be branded as traitors and probably put to death by either side, his left hand throbbed from when he fell on a pile of glitch and some topple over him and struck his hand. As he tried to ignore the pain he thought to what happened. They had been part of one of the outcropping new villages, and like most of the rebels, could no longer handle the extremely high taxation rate. They looked to Thane as a source of inspiration, and he led them in battle, moral grew once he recovered the ornate gold sword, and his personal squad was able to best groups of elite knights and soldiers. Then, Rebecca came, she offered to help the rebels in exchange for their protection and secrecy, and she gave the farmers something they didn't have, magic. They did better, for a time, but too many of them accidentally overtaxed themselves, and 50 mages lost 40 of their members fighting just 3 of the province's mages. Of course, they took out a 1000 strong army in the process, but they were outnumbered 5 to 1 army wise, even with so many mages, if the enemy used their better resources, they'd starve out the rebels in less than a month. That's where the Scarlett Heart and Golden Horde came in, they would send resources for the war effort. And now they had come to collect their pay, and to "train" the troops.

"That damn Surdan, he had no right treating us like that." A woman, Sarah, growled, her brown hair was covered in twigs and leaves, a testament of the rough part of the forest they moved through.

Callan, that was the Surdan's name, was a rude, smartmouthed boy of about 14, he was relatively tall, allowing one to assume he was a little older than he truly was, but his immature mannerisms belied his real age. They all remembered with humiliation the way he introduced himself.

Standing in front of a group of 500 mages, Callan walked forward. "I just want all of you to know," He began, "I started with you lot first because you're the absolute worst of the worst, and if there's a problem that needs fixing, you need to tackle it head on." He smiled as the rebels stared daggers at him. "I heard 50 of you took out a squad of 1000 men, and 3 mages, but those mages took out 40 of your guys. Tell me, how many of you can even lift a pebble?" He laughs in the face of Manfor, who contemplated punching him and taking the punishment. "I'm sure most of you hate me, that's good, I'm not your friend, all I ask is that you open your ears and use your head. Before we can let you use magic, you're going to have to hit the ground. Give me 100 push ups, 100 sit ups, then we'll run a little less than 3 leagues, we will do that every day." He smirked at the farmer's protests. "Oh? Scared of a little exercise? Then, all of you, come at me right now." He took out his green staff, "I dare you." A cold silence had filled the area. Followed by 20 mages collapsing, Manfor was amongst them. The rest murmured in fatigued unease. "You're so weak, that your spells knocked you out." Callan laughed. He commanded the rest to begin working out, and towards the 20 who collapsed, he forced them to do double, and unlike the others, he took extra care to make sure they completed their workout. After 5 days, their pride could not take it, and Manfred, one of the 20, went to Callan, cursing at him and complaining. Callan evenly replied that if Manfred could hit him once, he'd let them take it easy. Manfred agreed, only to be killed attempting to escape a spell Callan cast. All the while as Manfred withered away, Callan admonished the entire group, announcing, "As I'm sure you can see, he's dead. And with that, he's useless, he accomplished nothing admirable, much like most of you, will accomplish nothing admirable. The entire point of this excercise is to increase your stamina, so that you don't fucking die in the first blow I deal to your wards." He looked at their horrified, terror stricken faces, and allowed his eyes to become an inhuman iridescent blue. "If anyone complains again, they'll face the same thing." He stopped smiling and joking for the rest of the day.

Manfor resolved to run, and the other remaining 19 with him ran as well, they waited for nightfall, and elected to take watch, they ran as soon as they were in the clear, and too their anger, their training had begun to show some fruit. Even then, they cursed at Callan's name. When they came across a boy and two adults, they smelled the food and eyed the horse with envy, they would kill the three, steal the food, and slaughter the horse for meat, it would sustain them for another few days and they could escape the bloody forrest and maybe hide away in a village unaffected by the rebellion. Manfor lead them in chanting "brisingr", but they were surprised when the child did not burn, and even more surprised when he stood up and announced his demand for their surrender or fleeing. Manfor smirked to himself, the child seemed haughty, but his form was too frail to be any issue. "Let's ki-" He was never able to finish, the boy threw a spear into his chest, collapsing a lung, and as he drowned in his own blood, he felt an indifferent presence begin to absorb his memories.

Faris opened his eyes, shivering slightly and nursing his left hand. "Marigold, remember, you're stronger now, you have to take care not to be careless, a single loose swing could break a bone, your movements must be like you're holding a baby at all times, you can let loose a bit when you're fighting, but even then, you cannot display too great a superhuman ability, lest you reveal yourself." Faris looked as Marigold accidentally crushed the side of a tree as she gripped it, and he winced as she fell. "We still have 6 hours before we make it, so you can do it." Faris walked alongside Tamara, and Atlas took point, Marigold was in between the two of them, and her primary task was to acclimate herself to her new strength, speed, and senses, and to act as a normal human otherwise.

"I'm trying, it's just really hard, it's like when I was a child holding a caterpillar, I couldn't hold it too tight or it would be crushed, but too loose and it riggled away or tickled too much." She frowns, "Being firm without hurting it… it's hard."

"It takes a bit of practice." Faris smiled lightly, "You'll get it in time." He turned to Atlas. "Hey! How are you holding up?"

Atlas smiled lightly, "I am quite alright." He carried a large bundle, in the bundle contained all of the rebel's weapons, gear, and clothing.

"That's good eh? My old man's iron mace back when he wus a soldier is there, and my best friend's favorite pitchfork too." Faris continues absentmindedly, "That ass Callan woulda probably taken it away if he wus here…"

"Faris" Atlas asks, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, why?" Faris begins.

"Who's Callan?"

"He's from some st-" Faris stopped speaking. "Wait… no, no no no no nononono! I'm not Manfor, I don't even own a sword anymore, I lost it when that stupid kid burned me alive." Faris, clutched his head. "Fuck… no that's boss Uglauw, the kid set him on fire and killed me while I wa-" Faris clenched his teeth. "No! I'm not any of those people! I'm Faris Ser!" He begins breathing heavy, "what the hell… why did I think I was any of those people?"

"Your mind might be reaching it's limit, you've taken entire life stories, from birth to death by your hand, I'm surprised you've been able to keep a solid ego." Tartarus began drily. "Though I don't think you've even understood how drastically you've changed."

Faris paused, "Everyone I've killed has either tried to kill me, or had been a heinous, cruel murderer, and I've experienced their entire lives, over and over again in my mind…" He laughed. "So you mean in honoring his, my own wish, I'm losing myself?" He starts tearing up. "What the fuck did I ever do, to deserve any of this, was it because I lie? Because I killed people who were after Venka?!" He yells out at no one, Marigold and Atlas look on in concern and confusion, and Ventus flies towards him.

Faris, friend. He says simply. Faris looks up at his owl, and is surprised by how much of him thinks Ventus is a bad omen.

"Ventus…" Faris begins, he sighs a bit, "no no, you're right, I'm Faris Ser, I've fought dozens, stopped a bear, and I've led hundreds of bandits and soldiers, I can handle a bit of confused identity." Faris laughs. "Yeah, escaping the royal army through the sewers was difficult compared to handling this easily. I don't need to be worried about that. My thieving ski-" Faris hit himself in the head. "Tartarus, you know the truth, I need you to relay to me my mind state and memories before I left the hospital on the first day we re-met."

He waited patiently, allowing the imagery and refresher of his life experiences going through. It felt weird, seeing himself die so many times, but the point was to learn from his earlier mistake, and die less, perhaps if he stopped pissing himself off so much, but it wasn't his fault for underestimating himself… No, Faris Ser was a young child, he, no, they, they couldn't be fully blamed for their lack of foresight, but even then, they were responsible for their evils, Faris… his entire reason for doing this was to understand why they were evil… he's not to become like them, just to understand them. He clenches and unclenches his fists. "I am me… I am Faris Ser…I'm me, and no one else..."

…

When two armies would face each other, standard rules of engagement often called for messengers from either side to come forward and make a demand on behalf of their side. This demand often included terms of surrender, dates of battle, and any rules they expressed that needed to be followed. In Faris's world, as Damien, this manner of conducting battle was only honored when it came to two nations that respected each other's sovereignty, and was often ignored when when one group overwhelmingly overpowered the other. During the Battle of the Burning Plains, messenger was sent forth from Galbatorix's side demanding the unconditional surrender of the Varden, meant both as a formality and as an insult regarding the empire's presumed greater power. This practice of sending a messenger was then interpreted as another message altogether, that the side sending the messenger was confident in their winning, and that they expected to win the next battle. This is why when the 4000 strong rebel army, of which 2,000 were confirmed able to use magic in some way, sent a messenger to call for a medium sized manor town's surrender, the lord, a minor noble of the Rembrant household, did not hesitate to order ballista be aimed at the enemy.

Hanvel Tudor was the lord of a medium sized town of 2,000 with a 1,000 strong army of standard and reserve troops, almost every able-bodied man was taught to wield a spear, bow, and sword and shield. When he received word that the 4,000 rebels sent a messenger, he ordered his men into an orderly defense and prepped his men to fire at the enemy army.

"Sir… aren't they just peasants and farmers?" His assistant cried out, "if word comes out you May be disgraced."

"Be that as it may, I'd rather be known as Lady Rembrant's overzealous dog then as the fool who sat as a peasant uprising took his town. We must treat them seriously." Preparations were quickly taken, and over 100 men lined the top of the large wooden walls that surrounded the castle. Another 400 stood behind the gates, ready to charge out and meet the enemy after they had been crippled by arrow fire. Another would be taking the east side to flank, and 50 or so of his heavy knights would flank from the west to break up the enemy. After they sent back the messenger he had his archers set their bows and draw their arrow. "On my mark, longbow men fire the first volley." His men knocked back their arrows. Lord Tudor looked at his men, they were orderly, wearing identical brown uniforms, they all had determined faces. He turned to look at the rebels, he couldn't see their facial expressions, but he could see that they wore no standard uniform. He smiled to himself and raised his hand, fist clenched. "Fire."

Over a hundred arrows came hurtling out into the crowd, in less than 10 seconds, another 100 were fired out, then another 100, and another. Tudor stared grimly ahead, waiting for the tell-tale sound of men screaming, instead he watched in horror as the arrows flew awry, missing their targets completely. "All archers fire! Ready the ballistae!" He screamed. A dozen men began readying what looked like massive crossbows, 3 in total. As they prepared his two flanking forces closed in on the enemy, his 400 strong army was led by two mages. He paled as the mages collapsed, and nearly lost his nerve as his army of 400 was cut by over 60 percent before they could even reach the enemy. His knights faired a bit better, their mages were more skilled, and there were ten of them, but even they disappeared under the onslaught of thousands. The arrows continued to fly awry, but a larger amount began to hit their mark, but even then the rebels lost a few dozen men at most, and his troops he sent outside had been decimated.

"Sir!" He turned to his messenger, "The ballistae are ready!"

He nodded grimly. "Fire at will!" The ballistae was a giant crossbow the size of two men, the bolts it launched were the length of a man's head and torso, and weight upwards of 40 pounds, a payload much more deadly than a normal arrow. As the missiles sailed through the air he watched as two of them shattered merely a few paces from the enemy, the third one crashed into the rebels, taking out another few dozen. "Aim and fire again!" A second wave of ballistae caused the peasant army to begin to break up. Tudor smiled in triumph as he called his archers to attack, their strikes being far more potent. If he was lucky and the enemy's size dropped by another 1,000 or so he could send for reinforcements and hunker down, all that would be left would be taking stock of his casualties and making sure their families got their reparations, especially with Winter coming soon.

"This won't do at all." He flinched at the unfamiliar voice and turned to see a young woman with white hair and deep green eyes. She was slender and pretty but dressed in hunting gear like a man, in her hand was the leg of a roast turkey, and she seemed to enjoy it quite a bit. "Those big bow things are messing up the army, and the wall is too big."

"Who a-" Tudor couldn't finish, he could only watch in horror as massive plants and vines ripped through his wooden wall and crushed his ballistae, men began to fall from the destruction, barely holding on he took out his sword and charged the girl, only to be blown back by a massive gust of wind off the wall and into a building. As he crashed through, he fought to remain conscious. Fighting through the pain he took bearing of his surroundings to realize he was in the grainary. Getting out quickly he felt like crying as he saw the wall he and his people built together get destroyed by what could only be described as the wrath of nature. As he staggered forward he heard a voice.

"Wow, you guys put up a good fight, better than the two towns before, they were destroyed real quick." Tudor turned to the voice, a Surdan boy inspecting his nails and leaning against a wall.

"Who the hell are you." He spat, coughing out blood and pointing his sword.

"I'm your reckoning… pft." Callan laughed as he looked at the tall injured nobleman before him. "I can see you're as brave as they say Lord Tudor."

"..."

"Not so talkative?" Callan smiles as he walked forward.

"What are your terms?" Tudor asked flatly.

"Oh? Nothing much, I already gave our terms, and you didn't heed them, those guys are pretty pissed, they lost over 450 soldiers this time, so good job. Though they would have lost nearly 800 if not for magic." Callan continues rambling, eventually reaching the man before he notices. "Anyways… I already told them they could do whatever they wanted, pillage, kill…" He smiles. "And a few other things."

Tudor exploded in rage, "but you have me! I surrender! You can have my weapons, me as a hostage, my treasury, even most of the food, but most of the villagers left are the women and children, and a few elderly."

"Oh?" Callan seemed lost in thought, "Just non-combatants? Well they would be useful as incentive."

"What are you talking about." Tudor roared angrily, charging forward, a massive explosion of lightning struck him in the chest, blowing through his armor, he lay on the floor, convulsing in pain as Callan approached him.

"I'm talking about battle slaves…"

The capture of the town went by quickly. After provisions were taken care of, non-combatants and combatants alike were rounded up.

"Alright you lot," one of the rebels, a man with a graying beard and hawk like eyes, announced. "Unfortunately you have two choices ahead of you, join us, or stand beneath us." This aroused angry yelling and screaming, which were silenced as a hot spark began to flick from the man's fingertips. "I'm certain you hate us," he began, "your homes were trampled on, lives ruined, and your husbands murdered. I won't deny this." He walks up to the most defiant looking woman, Lady Tudor, the recently deceased Lord's wife. As he studies her for a bit he turns to the captured group at large, and rips off half his shirt revealing terribly gouged flesh, as he does over half his men and women do the same, showing similar scars and wounds. "This…" he began venomously, "is what happened when I couldn't pay the raised taxes, I had been a normal farmer, and while working bandits, bandits who have been plaguing our north for years, broke into our farm and killed my sons and crippled me. My wife was left on the brink of life and I sent multiple missives and pleas for help, from the very kingdom you wish to die for." He breaths deep before continuing, "I and my friends and family put together our meager earnings to purchase the services of a royal healer, but a response never reached despite us despite sending it through an official channel. We were told this and suffered a dreadful wait under the rule of Lord Rembrant, all the while my wife continued to suffer." He smirks, "I appealed multiple times, to no avail, and nothing was done, when it came about that Lord Rembrant was a traitorous dog, we thought perhaps now, with someone else in the ruling position, things would stabilize."

"And they did stabilize!" The recent widow of the late Lord Tudor rebuked, "we had just begun to crack down on bandits before you meddled and decided to selfishly destroy our province!"

"I didn't yet mention where these scars came from. And… it probably didn't affect you much, but taxes were multiplied five times over in that one year, every family that failed to comply would be punished by having flesh gouged off their arms." His eyes seemed to glaze over as he looked at a distance, "They would not listen to our explanations, nor our pleas, nor my begging that they punish me twice in the place of my wife, they callously took me and demanded that she rise and come, she died as they dragged her out of bed and shoved her forward. Then, they gouged both my arms." He laughs, "I thought I'd die, I wanted to die, but then… a Mage…" he hisses, "A mage, healed me… stopped the bleeding, it took him 5 minutes, my wife had been suffering for 5 months, it took us three days to get to Lady Rembrant's manor, three, cursed days, do you know how many mages were in that manor? Almost 100, yet we received no word, no kindness. Well, after being abandoned, Thane saved us, he allowed us to take arms, and he gave me the opportunity to meet the official I payed for a mage through. The bastard confessed that he pocketed a third of the money, and paid the other half as kick back to his superiors, who pocketed half, and again sent it as representative tax, from all of us." His smile dropped, "We made sure they didn't die before we did everything we wanted to them, and it's not enough. This province is diseased, ours isn't the only story of betrayal, and we cannot be silent any longer. Who amongst you will join us?"

People were silent for a few seconds. Callan laughed, "they must be scared of change." He walked up, "I'm certain some of you think, 'his story is sad but he's going too far,' or, 'It sounds sad but I don't think I can believe him." He chuckles, "Well, you're well within your rights to doubt him, but let me tell you something, you're stupid if you think they then have no valid reason to fight. Let's just say that was a fib, at the very least, he and 10,000 others feel the need to let their voices be heard this way, and through that perhaps something else lies. Though he isn't lying," Callan took out a file of papers, putting on some spectacles, he cleared his throat, then amplifying his voice with magic, he spoke, in a high false posh voice he states, "Since Lord Rembrant's stripping of power, taxes had increased by 5 times, in order to offset the losses taxes on the villages and farming settlements were multiplied by ten, and violators would be housed here before being sent out. Can anyone amongst you read?" He looked around the crowd, a young man called out, he had an indignant, arrogant look on his face. Callan beckoned for him to stand, and he did and began to walk forward, Callan took out two sheets of paper, one overlapping the other. "Look at this," he pointed to a relatively short word. "What is it?"

The man paused, and looked confused and troubled, "Uh… ah… um…"

"Strange, you can read… right?" Callan asked, smile beginning to creep back up his face.

"Of course I can!"

"Of course then, let me give you a hint as to the word, it's an animal with four legs."

"All animals have four legs!"

"... What about birds."

"Wings count as legs!"

"Okay, what about spiders."

"Spiders are bugs!"

"Sure, okay, it's an animal that has soft fur and produces milk."

"Cow." The man smiles confidently.

"I'm impressed, you got the first letter right." Callan lets the overlapping first sheet fall, revealing a well made sketch of a cat over the three letter word. He turns to Lady Tudor, "you're a glowing source of integrity and honor right? What's this word?"

Lady Tudor spits in his face, then smiles, "cow."

Callan bursts out laughing. "So it seems." He passes by man, woman, child, all of which who affirm the word being cow, with varying degrees of reluctance. He eventually stops by a girl about his age,her eyes look badly bruised and her face is covered in injuries.

"I'm sorry, I cannot see, I can't tell you what word it is, I don't want to die for angering you sir… please take mercy." She said quietly.

"Oh… hmm." Callan puts his hands on the girl's face. "Waíse Heill" (be healed). The crowd screams in terror, then simply sit in stunned silence as the girl's pretty face is revealed, unblemished by the brutal and horrific injuries that used to fill it before. Callan takes out a pocket mirror, "Can you see now?"

The girl nods, and looks at the word. "Sir… it says cat."

The crowd before her burst into screams trying to drown her out. Callan screamed even louder. "SHUT UP!" They covered their ears in pain. "Before we even began I've read most of your minds, so I already know about the hawk you sent towards the capital. I also know how half of you think I'm a dirty sand rat or what have you, frankly, I was getting tired of everyone lying so badly, come on, the idiot's not able to read, most of you know that." Callan sighs, turning to the girl, he smiles, "I appreciate your honesty, the healing was in good faith, before I do anything else, is there anything you need done? Vengeance? Help?"

"... My little sister…" the girl is silent.

"I see…" Callan turns to the woman next to the girl, she has similar brown hair and dark eyes, and freckles dot her face much like the girl, her daughter. "So… Sonya, right?" The woman looks up in shock, "where's Missy?" The woman turns pale and looks away.

"Witchcraft! You're all just monsters!"

"I mean I don't go around disfiguring teenage girls and selling little girls for drug money." Callan stood up and walked through the seated captives until he came in front of a thin man with incredibly wrinkled lips, eyes, and hands. "And you must be Therisford, but everyone calls you Weedy, on account of the rather addictive strain of Ficus Weed you've been able to breed and sell, let's see, Sonya was in debt with you, and you demanded both her daughters as repayment, so she 'persuaded' you to take only one, and she disfigured her eldest because she still needed someone who could work around the house." He smirked at the stunned faces of the crowd. "What, I've been reading your mind all this while, I already know the first 15 morons where lying, and I've honestly already resolved who I'm going to kill. But the ones I won't kill just yet also have a choice to join our cause. For Greta there I'm going to have to kill Sonya and Weedy, and unfortunately for our big fat liars, trust is important, so they're dead too." He waited patiently for the crowd's screams of terror and hate to die down, and began to drag his 'guilty' forward. "Make sure to use the green knife." He said to the hawk eyed bearded rebel, who nodded grimly. Turning to the girl, he asked, "Read the document please."

She nodded, and began to look through it, as she did, her eyes widened, and her voice, amplified by Callan's magic, overshadowed the screams of the executed. "He isn't lying, this is the Tudor seal… they really did raise taxes and foist it upon the farmers… and they really did punish the farmer who couldn't pay." She looks mad, "how dare they! My uncle was a farmer, and I lost touch with him two months ago! They told me he abandoned his farm and committed suicide! But his name is on the list of those who didn't survive the trip to being punished?!"

The crowd listens in discomfort. Callan snaps his fingers as 100 people are lifted into the air.

"These are the ones who were privileged with this information, and who did nothing, I'd welcome you, but…"

"Wait! Please!" A chubby man with greasy hair Myelled, "I had no choice! They were orders! And they were approved by Lady Rembrant, I tried to appeal them but I'm a middle man! I couldn't do anything about it!"

"You're the one who received the kickback from the one who exploited Hawky over here." Callan smirked, "you think I lifted the ones who knew and were actually remorseful? Hell, you know amongst the captured are enemy soldiers I healed, sure we're against each other but we don't all have to be, but people like you are scum, poisoning the entire well, like a cancer, we might as well get rid of as many of you as we can." He turned to the crowd, "Again, we open our doors to your joining us." He wasn't surprised when the girl he healed joined him, nor when most of the younger citizens did as well, a lot of the elderly had no one to really rely on and resolved to die along with the province's old ways. Callan didn't try too hard to convince them but he put them through magical sleep, ultimately, if the 1480 who survived, 850 joined the rebellion, this more than made up for their losses, which mixed with the granary and armory, was ultimately a great boon.

Callan smiled as he calculated the wins, "Thane's gonna barbecue a cactus heh…"

"Sir!" Callan turned to see Manfred, the soldier who was part of the problem 20 when he first began training them, Manfred was the only one who openly challenged him, and in that respect he provided just enough energy for Manfred to survive, but didn't let up his cruel persona, the other 19 deserted, but they were so weak that he paid no heed. Manfred grew to be relatively skilled, and he could say he was almost proud of the man.

"Yes Manfred."

"I… I want to apologize for my behavior, when you first were put in charge of training us, w-" He was interrupted by Callan raising a hand.

"No, no, nothing sappy, nope, don't want to hear it, we're still on a battlefield, if you want to thank me, make it public, I don't need heartfelt thanks, we're here for results, and you're here for your freedom. That should be all that really matters…" Callan walked off, "if you're in such a good mood, they have a fully stocked winery, don't all of you get too drunk though." Callan patted Manfred's shoulder. It doesn't really matter who wins this war anyway. He thought.

…

Atlas was somber, Marigold did her best to understand the mood, but she was unable to fully get why he and Faris were so silent. Faris has been speaking strangely recently before, but now, he was silent. "So… about my ability to display normal levels of strength?" She'd begin tentatively, Faris would listlessly take out a soft piece of paper or something brittle and grunt out a few commands to hold it or do something without letting it tear or break while also feeling it out. When she needed help Atlas would provide some advice, but in all other times they would be silent. Sometimes Faris would look at a tree, or see a pile of dirt on the floor and talk about "old stomping grounds." Then he would frown and shake his head. This climaxed when he suddenly sprinted forward, tearing through the forest, Atlas rushed behind him and Marigold wasn't far behind either, they found him praying before a simple large stone.

"Faris… what are you doing?" Atlas began incredulously.

"Big sis Erma used to take care of us when we were younger. Then while my friends and I were gone, I and my mountain gang came in and killed her. When I returned with my friends we went to fight the gang, we beat me and my friends, and my friends died, then I joined me and the rest of my gang, cause I was cowardly and scared, but I made this gravestone for Emma and my friends, so they'd maybe forgive me. I thought after I killed me I'd never get to see this place again…"

"W-what?"

"It's weird, Emma wasn't really my big sis, no she was just some bitch me and us boys found while we were patrolling our turf, I and my friends were stupid enough to stake a claim in my boss's turf. We decided to send me a message to make sure I get the hell out of our turf, and my big sis was the perfect messenger. Then I decided to be stupid and I got my friends to attack me. Almost as stupid as when I demanded more pay for the kids I was kidnapping back in Ilrea, almost got me killed, but." He laughs, "I got killed by myself and Damien anyway… I miss Damien, I miss being me…" Faris stood up and took out a knife, turning the edge towards himself he froze, collapsing. Atlas caught him before he fell, and his eyes turned red.

"The idiot's overtaxed himself, the memories are mixing too much and overtaking his real personality." Tartarus spoke out of Faris's mouth and scowled. "If I don't go in there now he'll lose himself."

"What's going on?!" Marigold demanded.

"Faris takes the memories of those he killed, some sort of guilt trip about killing them, so he'll at least give them life through his and try to atone when all this is behind him." Tartarus shakes his head, "it's admirable if not cowardly in my opinion, I'd simply take useful information and cast out the rest but he's adamant on remembering which toe hurt on the 103th day of their 17th year after they tripped four days ago. And whether that was before or after they became murderous monsters. I'm surprised he didn't notice himself getting darker and darker." Tartarus closed his/Faris's eyes. "Now, if you'll excuse me…" Faris slumped unconscious.

Atlas frowned but made no comment, picking up Faris he turned to Marigold, "we need to find somewhere safe for him to rest, we're too deep in the rebel territory."

...

Afterword:

Hello everyone, this chapter's kinda filled isn't it? Before you ask, the 100 push ups 100 sit ups 100 squats ect is most definitely a One Punch Man Reference. Callan is interesting, my ultimate goal is to create a foil to Faris, someone like Faris in skill and capability, but who revels in his more morally questionable choices and abilities. Too a more pressing matter, thank you to

TOGDESTROYER

Infernalord

for your reviews. it let me remember to work on this behemoth of a fanfic. Your semi differing views help me affirm what I need to for the story. My original idea was to show Faris's life without magic for a year, some of the negative comments did end up getting to me lol. So in my rush to return Faris's magic some story ideas ended up being scrapped and new ones implimented. i will say though that Tartarus being "awake" within Faris. But I ended up scrapping some stuff. since I might be able yo reimplement those ideas I'm not gonna reveal anything just yet. But I hope you'll enjoy the next chapter.