"It's okay..."

"Is it?"

"We've done everything we need to do. To stay would be selfish."

"I know Prideti, It's just...I've poured so much of myself into them i- it's hard to pull myself away. Just give me some time, please."

"Very well"

Prideti walked off to the gathering where the others stood. This may have been the first time in millenniums since last they've gathered. It was truly a sight worthy of praise, sadly, this sight would never be seen again. Today was the agreed-upon day, there was no other way. If they'd abandoned their duty now, last second, it may have catastrophic repercussions on the world below. Prideti looked over his shoulder, watching Creati stare down at the world that he loved so much. He may have loved the place more than any other, well, not Passionti, nobody could love anything more than Passionti.

"It's Time." Prideti bellowed his voice thunder to those around him. "You are all aware I am not one to linger." Creati nodded his head, whispering something to himself. Everyone could feel the power from the words he whispered, most likely Creati was giving power to them one last time before he chose one. This would make his chosen one weaker than the rest, but make them all stronger as a whole. Intelligenti watched Creati and began to speak, "Now is not the time, Creati. You should save what power you have for your chosen one. The little power you gave everyone just now might be your chosen one's downfall. You-"

"Silence!" Creati roared back. The air grew thick with tension after that. It was wise not to anger one of the ten, but Creati, in particular, was an especially frightful one when angered. Often passive and would act as a mediator, Creati rarely showed anger, this little outburst was enough to quiet the splashing of Earthti's waves. Creati begrudgingly joined the formation. No words, there was nothing else to say, Creati was the last one to join the formation, it was time to began. Prideti let out a sigh of relief, the time has come, the day he has been waiting on for an eternity. One by one they gave up their being, Releasing their power into the world below. They were giving up their divinity in order to preserve the earth indefinitely and their power to their chosen ones. It was a truly righteous thing they were doing. The world below may still worship them, but there would be no one to hear their prayers, only the shadows of those who once were. Prideti was the last one. It was just him and the rain, the world miles upon miles below his feet.

"I am the last god...Feels good, actually." He whispered to himself. He was supposed to give up his power now. He was supposed to pick a chosen one. He was supposed to do as the others did, this is what they agreed on. But... Feels so good... Who could stop him right now? There was no other being like him now that the others left. The world only needed one god anyway. The Victorious one. "It will be better this way. Only one god." He whispered again. Glory. Their chosen ones will have an inherent hatred towards him, manifest from the gods within them... I am the only one this world needs. But what will they be able to do? Curse Him? Prideti bellowed loudly, "No one can do anything!! AHAHA! There's nothing to be afraid of! I'll just make everything bad go away!!" Prideti laughed some more to himself...and stepped out of formation.

Sarra Sat in her backyard with her legs crossed and her hands on her knees. With her eyes closed, it seemed like the noises around her were louder. She'd walked herself through the steps that she was taught; Close your eyes, focus on your breathing, let your thoughts melt away, don't move a single inch, focus on all the sounds around you but don't think about them. She wasn't told what to do next, what to expect. Was she supposed to have some sort of Epiphany? If nothing else came from this at least she was relaxed. Uncomfortable, yes, but relaxed. A leaf floated down from the large maple tree that stood tall in her backyard, Sarra sat just beneath it. The leaf took its sweet time floating down from the tree just to land on Sarra's head. Sarra's hairstyle of the week was blonde hair that flowed smoothly into a long braid running down her back, the sides of her head shaved into intricate swirling designs that "reflected her spirit", so says her hairstylist. She didn't care much for the meaning behind the hairstyle but it was sort of pretty nonetheless. This leaf, however, landed perfectly on the top of her hair braid, the stem dangling down in front of her scratching her forehead. This leaf was not pretty. Was she supposed to ignore this? Don't move a single inch? Her muscles were relaxed but in her mind's eye, she could see herself grabbing the leaf and ripping it to shreds! No, she could do this. The ultimate test of her will, to persevere even under these harsh conditions. Another leaf fell, landing on her right hand.

"Oh come on!" She screamed.

"Sarra!" Coyle hissed, "Not only did you break your concentration, but forced me to as well! Have some control woman."

Sarra shot Coyle an angry look, "This is even part of my training, why does it matter?"

Coyle stared back for a moment with a deadpan expression. He closed his eyes and let out an exhausted sigh, "Would it kill you to just, I don't know, follow my lessons? Just once? This is the last teaching I'm going to give you, the least you could do is respect it." Sarra looked downwards. He had a good point. It wasn't always her intention to ruin her teacher's lessons, it just happened that way because of one thing or another. She really hadn't considered what her actions might be saying to Coyle, she never meant anything by her interruptions but maybe that could be taken the wrong way.

"I'm sorry Coyle. I'm just stressed, you know this." Sarra said, looking up at her teacher. He was also sitting cross-legged but his hands were no longer on his knees. he must've given up when she broke his concentration. She was going to miss him. This man had been teaching her things since her fifth birthday, once a week for 15 years. Sarra's family had been good to him, letting him take up residence on their estate so he didn't have to commute weekly. It also allowed him to sneak in a few extra lessons every week to further her education and experience. Retrospectively, she'd learned so much from this man, it was amazing how much he had to offer. She would never say it out loud, maybe she didn't have to, but she respected this man's word more than her parents. Today was her last lesson. 15 years of learning and training and it all ended today. Her last lesson and she still managed to mess it up. She stared into his deep green eyes for a second.

"Do you think I'm going to be alright? Out There?" Her voice quiet.

"I...I don't know. You soak up information like a Kova, but that doesn't always translate to real-world experience. If you do any good out there, it'll be because of that fat brain of yours. Intelligenti, what am I saying? You'll do just fine." He leaned forward patting her on the head, the long billowy sleeve of his blue robe slapping her in the face. "C'mon. I know you hate my lessons. Let's just call it a day. I need to start packing for my trip back home and, correct me if I'm wrong, but you still need to see the city mayor right? You should have done that already."

Sarra felt cold, she wanted to correct him. She didn't hate his lessons at all and he knew that. But he kept up the 'Mean teacher, bad student' act anyways. She was really going to miss him. but, If she cracked now it would throw away 15 years of work she put in convincing him she was the tough one. "Thank you...For lecturing me one last time before I leave forever. Some teacher you are." She said, rolling her eyes. A wide grin grew across Coyle's face but he didn't respond. He just stood up and offered her a hand. She rose to her feet dusting off her backside of any leaves, twigs or dirt. Coyle turned towards the manor and strode off, Sarra following closely behind him. They stood about the same height now, but she was always going to look up to him.

A tear rolled down her cheek; She cracked. This was the very first time she cried in front of this man, or behind him in this case, but she didn't feel the need to hide it. She was allowed to cry, to not be so tough. It was a shame it took her this long to realize that.

Sarra made her way through her rather large house. Knowing that she was going to be leaving, with a high probability of never returning, made her notice the little things about her house. She'd always seen the little nooks and crannies that hide in the corners and edges of the white walls, but she never cared for them. Always chopped it up to bad carpentry. These little things about her house made her smile, this is how she knew it was her house. Her index finger glided along the wall of the main hallway while she walked until she reached the living room where both her parents sat sipping tea and reading the news. Sarra must have been outside when the print came. Sarra's father had paid for a print of recent news to be delivered weekly, it contained politics, economy, religion and some other things too. When Sarra first read it she was amazed, probably because it was the "new thing" in the house, but it quickly became very boring to read.

"Mother, father? I'm going to see Rizahn, probably be out for a while..." She waited a few moments for a response that would never come. She sighed deeply and moved on down the hallway to the front door. Why did she expect anything from them? It's almost as if she thinks if she talks to them they are obligated to talk back to her. Foolish She wasn't going to let this dampen her moo however, she was just going to tuck away the feelings towards her parents like always. She swung open the front door and stepped outside. She was met with a heavily used dirt road that was occupied by people walking, horses galloping and beggars pleading. Before moving down the street towards the city center, she pulled from her pocket a long thin strip of gauze. She wrapped the gauze around her left hand very quickly, going around and around her hand until she could tuck the end of the gauze in the make-shift bandage. She wrapped her hand quite deftly, evidence of this being a routine of hers. She would gladly let people think her hand was injured if it meant hiding the rather large hand tattoo that was on the back of her hand. A large 10 with a spiked circle around it. After about a month she would have switched from gauze to a glove and use the excuse that is was a fashion statement.

She walked down the road with her hands in her pockets, A part of her realized the futility of covering up the tattoo. She'd lived there most of her life, people knew who she was. But that didn't stop her. She knew she wasn't like the rest of the people on the road, and they knew it too. That tattoo meant she was a champion, but she would give it up if it meant she never had to endure the glares she got when people saw it. People here hated champions. The country she lived in, Erriani, was mostly made up of worshipers of Prideti. A fine religion, if you're into that sort of thing. The only problem with it was the fact that they worship a god who demands sacrifices from his worshipers. The religion of old gods seemed more just, but there were still some logical inconsistencies in it. For example, it preaches that the old gods were the most powerful beings ever; Omnipotent and Omniscient. But if you're all-knowing and all-powerful how did you get tricked and betrayed so easily? Maybe it was some godly thing Sarra just didn't understand but she could never get over that part of the religion.

She continued walking down the road, grabbing a low hanging apple from a tree that dangled just above her head. A beggar huffed at her as she bit into it, muttering something about entitlement. She wasn't going to start a fight with this man, regardless of how onesided it would be, she just ignored the comment. Even though she expected these comments from the people in the city that didn't make it any less hurtful and embarrassing. She was a champion with the power to move things with her soul! She was above all this pettiness. She made her way through the city to the center where she found the city hall building. She walked into the rather lovely building. The walls were painted with murals of historical events that happened in the country and important people who changed the way the world works. The ceiling was just as beautiful with its stone carvings that twist and swirl in every-which-way but somehow seemed to stay symmetrical.

A young lady, probably around the same age as Sarra broke the silence, "Can I help you?" Sarra's eyes snapped to the young girl, giving her a bit of a start. She raised her right hand apologetically and replied, "My name is Sarra..." She paused. The young girl gave her a 'Uhm, ok? And?' look while she waited for Sarra to say more. Sarra continued, "Parssian." It looked like the young girl was trying to piece something together, widening her eyes when she finally did. The girl broke out in a stutter, "I-I'm so sorry miss. P-Please, head on back that way. Mayor Rizahn will be in his office." Sarra thanked the girl and made her way down the hallway, Finding the door with the mayor's name on it. Sarra walked in without so much as a knock. The mayor looked up from the brown desk he was working on and looked Sarra up and down.

"I'm disappointed, but not surprised..." He trailed off, looking back down at the papers in front of him, newsprint laid curled up at the edged of his desk.

"What?" Sarra said, starring down the sitting man.

"I was supposed to see you last week. But, now you come the eve of your journey...like I said, disappointed." The mayor said. His voice was low and raspy but it gave him sort of a regal sound or made him sound like a beggar, one of the two.

"What does it matter? I'm here now." Sarra said. She grabbed the back of the chair that sat in front of Mayor Rizahn's desk and spun it towards her. She threw her legs over the sides and sat facing the mayor, using the back of the chair to rest her elbows.

"Sit proper young lady!!" Rizahn snapped. "You lack respect! I know you don't want to be here, you'd rather be home doing your heretical studies or training to fight for some reason. There are rumours of your pastimes and I cannot say I approve, unfortunately, I cannot stop you either. Do you think you're going to have to fight monsters in Cobix? Prideti, you're going to be in the land of god himself!! Baah, you tarnish this opportunity by learning the ways of combat, convincing yourself you're going to war." His voice sounded as if he was holding back an outburst.

Sarra interjected before Rizahn could continue his rant, "First of all, I don't appreciate this ambush, it's quite rude. Secondly, Don't swear by the name of Prideti to me. Only Creati, the old gods or none. And lastly, even your own doctrines refer to my situation as a 'sacrifice'. I'm not exactly going to Cobix for a lovely scenic tour. The least I can do is prepare myself for what is to come. Like, come on Rizahn-"

"Mayor... Rizahn."

"Mayor Rizahn... You know exactly what I must do, everybody knows the journey of a sacrifice. I have no choice in the matter." Sarra finished her last words a bit quieter.

Rizahn had gone back to the paper in front of him, writing down a few things followed by a signature. It was the document Sarra had come for. It was essentially just a document stating that her city of residence has recognized her as a member of the Parssian family, a family that is descendant of Creati's champion. It also stated that she was a sacrifice. As a sacrifice, she couldn't be impeded on her journey. Rizahn placed the quill in the inkwell and lifted the paper to Sarra. She grabbed hold of the document but Rizahn didn't let go. They were like that for a moment, a game of tug-of-war that threatened to rip the paper in half. Rizahn leaned in towards her as far as he could from sitting behind a desk.

"We all know if you had a choice, you would abandon our god Prideti and live your days as a heretic with your powers." He hissed at her, his tone hushed.

This man was infuriating. She'd known walking in about his current disposition towards her, but he was just too much. She didn't wanna waste any more time on this pointless back and forth. She yanked the document free, thankfully she didn't rip it. "I would abandon your god. Not mine." She said to him, before hurriedly leaving the city hall. She folded up the document during her angry power walk home and shoved it deep in her inner jacket pocket.

Sarra walked briskly through the streets, taking a long way home in order to blow off some steam. She wasn't nearly as angry as she was before but Rizahn's words still lingered in her thoughts. She kept going over their unpleasant conversation in her head, coming up with better arguments and wittier things to say. Too bad she hadn't thought of these things when she was right there in front of him. She no longer wanted this long walk home, she would just practice at home to get her mind off of Rizahn. She quickly turned the corner, turning down a long alleyway that would put her on a direct path home. The moment she turned into the ally, a small raggedy haired head slammed into her gut. She tensed her muscles, her left hand instinctively hovering over her soul glove. After a second of fright, she'd recognized this messy hair. It was Ched! A small malnourished urchin boy who was too nice for the street life he lived in.

"Oi! Sarra! watch where you're swinging that stomach of yours!" he said while straightening his back and rubbing his head. He let out a friendly chuckle before meeting her eyes in the low light of the ally. "what's the hurry? someone following ya? I can set up a trap or something, make them take a nasty fall." he leaned and peeked behind her. He was joking. Neither of the two laughed but Sarra knew he wasn't serious, Ched had a strange sense of humour.

"Nah. Mayor just got on my nerves... It was nice seeing you Ched." Sarra said. She walked past him, strutting down the alleyway. The boy had caught up with her and walked alongside her for a while. They'd met some time ago, she was unsure how long ago exactly, but ever since their first interaction, whenever he sees her he follows her until she arrives at her destination. Usually spouting nonsense, but not in an annoying way, more of a 'younger brother trying to be funny' way.

"I see you're still wearing that ugly bandage, even though you ain't hurt. I don't know why you hide the tatt, we all know you're a champion. Creati." Ched kicked a rock as they came to the end of the alleyway, letting it loose on the street. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked by her side with his head relaxing back. Sarra realized that the time Ched spent by her side was guaranteed safety for him, not because Sarra would or wouldn't defend him but because of the fact that she can defend him, quite proficiently. No street ruffian wanted the trouble of dealing with a champion.

"Ched..." She started, "I'm not just a champion, I'm a sacrifice."

"So what? So you gotta give up your power or something or other and become like the rest of us. But until then, why not just embrace your mighty power!" Ched said, striking a pose that flexed his arm. then dropped his arms and caught up to her again.

"That's not what a sacrifice is. I don't know where you heard that, but it's wrong." Sarra jogged across the street trying to avoid the horses that traverse it, Ched coming into view beside her a second later. "You probably know of the nine houses, each house being a descendant of a champion who was chosen by one of the old gods? Yeah, well, there was actually ten old gods. the tenth being Prideti." Sarra paused for a second to step over some boxes that have fallen in her path. they were walking through the market at this point, she could swear that Ched had started walking closer to her side. She let out an exhausted sigh, remembering the teachings of Coyle, "Prideti was supposed to give up his power to a champion like the rest of the old gods, but he didn't. Now, since he's the only god left, he demonstrates his power by demanding a sacrifice from each house at the end of every century... I just so happen to be born closest to the end of the century. That's what a sacrifice is Ched. I have to give myself up to a god." Sarra looked over at Ched while they walked. It looked like he was pondering something like he was trying to really understand the information he just got.

"I got an idea! Why don't you just have a baby? That way, the baby will be a champion, Parrsian and born closest to the end of the century! By the old gods, I'm brilliant!" Ched said, louder than he should have.

"Well, Ched." Sarra said, "You have to pass some trials before you can go to Cobix, the land of Prideti, and you can't do them as a baby. That's why all the houses stop having kids for about 20 some odd years before the end of the century. That way, they have full-grown adults doing this. Besides, I wouldn't want my newborn baby to be sacrificed anyway. I-"

Ched interrupted her, "Newborn? Obviously let it grow up." He let out a laugh as if he'd just told the funniest joke the world ever heard. He wiped a tear from his eye and kept walking. He didn't know. Ched didn't know that Sarra was leaving for trials the next day, for all she knew this could be their last conversation together and he didn't even know it.

"Ched...I leave for Cobix tomorrow." Sarra said, just barely louder than a whisper. She didn't dare look at the expression on the little skinny boy's face in fear of her heart breaking. Ched started to slack behind, but Sarra could still feel him beside her. "I'm sorry Ched, but this'll be the last time we see each other. Unless I live somehow but chances are slim to none." Sarra could hear little footsteps padding away from her in a jog. She looked to her side to see Ched jogging down an alleyway to her left, his arm wiping tears from his eyes as he went. This is what she was afraid of, all she wanted to do was chase after him and give him a big hug. She needed to be stronger than that. If she didn't have to say goodbye, she could save herself from some emotional pain tomorrow. Had she always been this way? Scared to leave the comfort of the city because it might hurt someone she likes? Sarra started to realize just how emotionally invested she was to people in her life... And she hated it.

Sarra continued to walk until she eventually found herself on the steps of her family's house. The house stood tall, taller than the rest of the houses that lined this street. The prominent colours of the blue and white painted house stood out like a sore thumb amongst the street of neutral coloured houses. She pressed the front door open and strolled inside, surprised to see to her right that her mother and father hadn't moved since she left. It must've been more than an hour or so, yet still, her father sat there reading the newsprint. In a flash, a thought came and went like a leaf in a breeze. Are they alive? After a few moments of awkwardly starring at them from the doorway of the living room, her father rustled the print and flipped the page. Her mother sat on the couch facing away from the front window, a cup of steaming tea in her hands. She just sat there reading a book she picked off the shelf. Sarra let out a sigh and spoke up, "Rizahn gave me the documents I need to travel...So, I'm all set to leave tomorrow." Her voice felt so loud breaking the silence in the room. Her mother let out a sigh of annoyance, then replied, "Mayor." She emphasized, "Mayor Rizahn. It's called manners Sarra." Sarra's mother hadn't looked up from her book. A part of Sarra wanted to say something awful about Rizahn, just to simply get a reaction from them, but she remembered all the times she'd done it in the past and realized the trouble wasn't worth it.

Sarra apologized curtly and made her way through the house towards the kitchen. In it, sat Coyle who sipped tea while staring out at the backyard. Sarra perked up at the sight, "Cursing the grounds one last time before leaving?" She said, her tone playful and sarcastic. Coyle's eyes slowly moved from the backyard to Sarra, a smile growing across his lips. Sarra could see in his eyes what he was feeling, nostalgia and delight mixed with sorrow and melancholy. "Of course Sarra...No, I was remembering all our sessions over the years. They mostly all took place out there." His voice was raspy at first but then became clear as if he hadn't used his voice in days.

Sarra walked over to the kitchen window, it was large enough for them to stand side by side and still see the entirety of the yard. Sarra sighed and spoke, "Yeah, strangely, I feel more comfortable out there than in here..." She trailed off. Today was their last day together and her memories looking back will be of them feeling sad? No way. Rizahn, Ched and Coyle will make this day a sad memory, but she'd rather it not be like that. She wanted to look back on this day and be happy. Sarra looked at Coyle, he stood there a few inches taller than her with his back straight and arms crossed. "How about one last lesson?" She said in a soft chipper voice. Coyle looked at her and smiled even wider. He didn't say anything but he started to walk towards the kitchen door that led out to the backyard. It seemed like there was a bit of bounce in his step as he walked to the middle of the yard.

"Show me what you can do with your soul." His voice was loud enough and genuine enough to break the tension and the gloom.

"Are you sure? You don't want me to change?" Sarra was wearing a tight green long sleeve shirt and a thin grey skirt that flowed just past her knees.

"You're fine! I've seen you use your soul while wearing even more questionable attire than that." He said chuckling right after. "C'mon. Prove to me that I wasn't as bad a teacher as you think."

Sarra grinned and pulled her soul glove from her side. It was only hanging by a small hook on the hem of her skirt, making it easy to remove if lifted upwards. She placed the glove on her left hand and used her right to pull it snug. This specific kind of glove was only useful to Champions, many other kinds of gloves mimicked the design as a fashion statement but this particular glove was made for people like her. The black glove was made of tough material, almost a mixture of leather and fabric. It was a material that was extremely rare, manufactured by the Kova family, descendants of Inteligenti, to be used by champions to enhance and refine their power. Sarra could feel the anticipation surging through her. These were her favourite lessons, learning to use her soul felt so right. Every lesson felt like she was remembering something amazing she could do like it was locked away and was finally being let out. "What first?" She yelled across the yard.

Coyle raised his chin a bit and yelled back, "Show meeeee....A noise glyph!" He reached behind him and threw her a small wooden ball, typical training equipment.

Sarra watched the ball fly towards her. She caught the ball with her gloved hand and spun around with the momentum. The moment she caught the ball in her hand, she could feel her soul urging to move. With all five fingers on the ball, she summoned her soul into her hand and forced it into the wooden surface. In her mind, she could see her soul like a ball of paint, shifting and swirling in every direction yet never breaking form. She took the ball of paint and willed it to change colour, the colour she associated with hearing. She pushed her soul, her ball of paint, into the wooden surface of the ball. The wooden ball began to hum a continuous note. Where her hand caught the ball, between her five fingers, a small emblem appeared. A perfect circle, inside the circle, was a mess of lines that all connected with each other in a pattern. Sarra gripped the ball tightly while spinning, letting go of the ball mid-spin sending it flying back towards Coyle. He caught the ball and brought it to his ear.

"That's it? A b note?" Coyle said with disappointment. "Maybe I am a bad teacher..."

Sarra Extended her hand towards the ball with the glyph on it and started turning her hand as if opening a doorknob. The sound coming from the wooden ball began to get louder and louder, the b note changing pitch until it hit every note of the scale. Slowly the ball began to rearrange the notes into a little tune. Coyle raised his absent hand and made a 'so-so' motion with it, a smile stretched across his face.

Oh, I'm not finished yet. She raised her left hand to shoulder height and moved her right hand up with it as well, her right hand imitated holding a wand, "And now...The orchestra!" she yelled excitedly, her voice louder than the ball. She started moving both her hands as if she was conducting an orchestra in front of her. It was a bit dramatic and pointless but the idea was to have fun with it. The wooden ball began to make all sorts of sounds ranging from woodwind instruments to bassy drums, together they made a pleasing calming symphony. She ended the display with a flourish of her hands, cutting out all the sound from the wooden ball as a result. Coyle placed the wooden ball under his arm to free his hands and started clapping. Sarra took an exaggerated bow.

"Well done!" Coyle yelled, "That was really really good!"

"I know, I've been practicing." Sarra replied, "What else?"

Coyle tossed the wooden ball back across the yard towards her. She easily caught the ball, idly tossing the wooden ball between her hands. Coyle shouted across the yard at her, "Projection Glyph!" Again Sarra searched inside her self for her ball of paint, her soul. Within seconds the wooden ball in her hand had a glyph on it, a circle with lines on the inside. She tossed the ball back towards Coyle. She searched for her soul again, this time keeping her placed glyph in mind. In her hands another wooden ball swirled into existence with exact measurements and features, including the glyph she had placed on it. This wooden ball, however, was completely weightless. Every sense of hers couldn't perceive the wooden ball in her hands except for her eyes. No weight, no smell, no sound, nothing. She threw the illusory ball towards Coyle, but he didn't even attempt to catch it. The illusory ball obeyed all the laws of gravity and acted as if it were real, lobbing through the air towards Coyle only as fast as she threw it. The ball reached Coyle, phasing right through his body and bouncing away behind him. She didn't stop there. She repeated this many many times, creating projection after projection of the wooden ball until there was a pile of them behind Coyle. He looked over his shoulder at all the wooden balls behind him, he turned back to Sarra and nodded his head in approval, "Very nice. Now a moving glyph!"

Sarra yelled back in reply, "My spear please?" Sarra pointed to the spear that leaned against the house. Coyle hesitated for a moment but then went off and grabbed the weapon. Instead of throwing as she hoped, Coyle walked down the length of the yard until he was right next to her. He handed her the spear and turned towards the house, facing the same way as her. Sarra placed a moving glyph on the hilt of the spear where she'd grabbed it. She lifted the spear in her right hand to her shoulder, taking aim at the house. She swung her arm forward, launching the spear towards the house with inhuman speed. She used her glyph to help push the spear out of her hands, propelling it threw the air. The spear stopped at the wall of the house, the tip of the spear less than an inch from piercing the rock wall. She flicked her hand and the spear came launching back towards her.

"You could've done that with the training ball ya know," Coyle said, his tone disapproving. Sarra gave him a glance but didn't bother responding, she just continued to focus on manipulating the spear. Using the moving glyph was different than the other glyphs. Sarra felt like she was carrying the spear with her muscles, but, she wasn't straining her arms or her body. Her soul's muscle was being used. the only difference was her soul didn't have a limit to how long she could hold the spear with it, only a limit on how much weight it could hold. Her glyph could only hold as much as her physical arms could hold, but with her glyph, she could hold the spear forever if she wanted to. Using her glyph she twisted the spear, spun it around a few times and made it fly forward again.

Coyle continued to stand there with his arms folded and a smirk across his face. He cleared his throat and spoke, "Anything else?" Sarra paused for a moment, and then replied, "Try and fight it. I'll use the blunt side." Coyle gave her an intrigued look before replying, "Can I use my soul?"

"No!" Sarra said quickly. Coyle chuckled and headed over to the floating spear. He bent his legs and moved into a fighting stance, one that Sarra was quite familiar with. The spear burst into motion, Sarra flicking her gloved hand back and forth in the background. The spear's hilt swung at Coyle from every angle, forcing Coyle to bat it away with his open palm. Sarra made the spear dip low, trying for a swipe at his legs. Coyle was far too agile for that to work but it was worth a shot. Coyle, fighting off the spear with adept skill, shouted towards Sarra, "Faster!" The hilt of the spear changed speeds, swinging at Coyle with ferocious speed. If Sarra hadn't been using a moving glyph to control the spear, she might not have been able to keep up with the movements. Without extra permission, she sped up the spear's movements even more, truly giving Coyle a run for his money. The spear's hilt landed firmly into Coyle's gut. Spit flew out of Coyle's mouth as he keeled forward. Sarra made the spear stop its motion and fly towards her open hands. Coyle stood up and let out an exhausted breath.

"Intelligenti Sarra! When did you become so proficient?" Coyle said through heavy breaths. "Seems just yesterday you were struggling to lift paper, now you can move your spear in such a way..." He trailed off, allowing himself to breathe more before continuing, "It's remarkable really."

"Well," Sarra said, "You know how you told me to focus on one of the five senses?"

"Ah, you picked touch. That makes sense." Coyle interrupted.

"No." She cut him off, "I never chose any. I just tried to get good with all of them instead. Since I couldn't make up my mind on what glyph specialty to go with, I just made sure that whichever glyph I use at the time, I have skill in. The spear is really my best trick with touch, even though-"

"Sara..." Coyle cut her off with a soft but stern voice, "you haven't chosen a glyph specialty? You realize that every champion chooses a glyph specialty because it makes them more skilled in that glyph. You may be pretty good with a moving glyph when attached to a spear, but against a touch glyph specialist your spear wont be as potent. You will be good at all glyphs but an expert at none." Coyle looked down, trying to find a reason in her actions.

"Coyle, I've been able to experiment. I've realized there are huge benefits to not choosing a specialty." Sarra said. She'd turned to face Coyle, her arms to her chest.

"Like?" Coyle asked.

"Well, because I have equal skill with all glyphs it was easy to see the differences between them and their similarities. With enough practice I was able to...Well, do this."

Sarra looked down at her hands, looking at the spear that she held. She closed her eyes and searched her soul. In her mind the ball of paint was there like always, spinning, swirling and shifting. She willed the ball to change colours as she'd always done, but this time, she tried changing only half of the ball of paint. Her mind strained for a second, threatening to lose focus. She managed to change the colour of half of the paint ball to one colour, the other half to another. Before her mind could slip and her soul reverts back to it's shifting nature, she pushed her soul out her hand and into the spear. Between all five fingers the familiar circle filled with line appeared. This glyph, however, was obviously different from any other glyph she was taught. Half of the glyph was one pattern of lines, the other half of the circle was another. "There. This." She said. She held up the glyph on the spear to Coyle. His eyes widened at the sight, quickly grabbing the spear from Sarra's hands and holding it close to his face. Coyle excitedly inspected the spear, turning the spear and his head in different ways.

"A new glyph..." Coyle said with an airy voice, tone filled with awe. "Show me! Please, there is so little to learn here. This is a very pleasant surprise. I must see."

Sarra was taken aback at first, unsure if he was going to laugh or cry. Intelligenti were weird like that, always salivating over new information like it was a freshly cooked dinner. Sarra lifted her hand, the spear raising out of Coyle's hands and into the air. After a second of hovering, Sarra created another illusory spear in her hand that proceeded to float in the air as well. Two spears floating in the air completely under Sarra's control, one spear being an illusion. Sarra flicked her wrist, her left hand moving awkwardly. The two spears danced in the air together moving independently of each other, then moving in synchronized swings. Holding the spear with one glyph and creating an illusion with the same glyph was kind difficult. Her mind felt like it was being pulled two different ways, like trying to turn her head left and right at the same time. While Sarra was experimenting, she tried placing two different glyphs on the same item, but that proved difficult for every time she'd place the second glyph the first would disappear. She decided to combine the two different glyphs, a part of her told her that she was able to do this because of her equal skill with all the glyphs.

Sarra dropped her hand, letting the floating spear drop into the ground tip first. The spear poked the earth, sticking out like a fence post. She willed her soul to be released from the hilt of the spear, the circle with lines in it slowly faded into nothing. She looked at Coyle, trying to meet his eyes, but he was focussing on the spear. His eyes darting up and down the length of the spear, his mind racing.

Sarra leaned over and grabbed his shoulder, "I'm going to get some rest. It's getting late and I need to start this journey early tomorrow morning." She waited for a reply that never came. She was glad that she'd given Coyle something to think about, something he was lacking while living on their estate. But, at the same time, she regretted showing him. This trance that he goes into when thinking hard leaves him emotionless and oblivious, it reminded Sarra to much of her parents. I shouldn't have shown him, I should have just left it out and had a pleasant time laughing and having fun with him...I guess this is the end of my last day then. She thought, looking back at the statue that was Coyle. He continued to stand there arms folded staring at the spear with wide eyes even after Sarra had retired inside.