Rowan enjoyed a brief pause after killing the… Armataur? Minodillo? Well, whatever it was called, killing it caused the rest of the Moonspawn to swiftly fall back to the shadows, leaving Rowan to enjoy the spoils of his victory.

  Congratulations, You have leveled up!

  Voran, Level 37 Twin Soul Spellblade

  Age: 16 | Rowan: [Twin Soul: Body Path] | Vorn: [Twin Soul: Mind Path]

  Path Progress | Rowan: [II--------] 20% | Vorn: [IIIIIIIIII] 201% Unbalanced Progress

  CON: 555

  STR: 555

  AGI: 555

  DEX: 555

  INT: 1110

  WIS: 1110

  CHR: 133

  LUK: 133

  [Titles:]

  [Perks:]

  [Skills:]

  Status: Exhilarated, Hydrated, Sandy

  Rowan couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his face. He was only two levels away from catching up with the astounding progress of his Soulmate. Granted, at the rate Vorn was improving, it scarcely seemed that Vorn would wait up for him.

  The Moonspawn seemed to take offense at his attitude. They wouldn’t just stand there and let Rowan bask in his progress. They were an obsidian sea, and where before they had ebbed, now they flowed towards him like an unceasing tidal wave. They crested over the pits and divots of their earlier engagements, stumbling all the way, and yet never slowing.

  Rowan met them head-on, as always, and let himself once again become lost in the flow of combat. The voices of his skills screeched in revelry of violence and payment denied. They demanded penance, a price to be paid for his power. Instead, Rowan let himself focus on the world around him. To distract and focus in the same breath.

  It was hard to describe the way he saw fighting ever since he had gained the skill that was destined for him the moment he picked his Path. [Movement] allowed him to see all movement near him, yes, but knowing that and comprehending it were two entirely different things. The omnipresent sky. Effervescent mana. The blood flowing in his veins.

  Mana was everywhere, an Iridescent sparkle that shined, swirled, and bubbled through the air like an oil spill. It almost felt… Out of phase with the rest of reality. As if it was sitting atop the mundane, instead of in it. Air, of course, was no less omnipresent, but instead of a shimmering unreality, it was a weighted blanket that never left his side. It was real.

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  The same went for most other fluids or energies based in reality. Fire, water, liquid metal, they all filled him with a sense of comfort, that not everything was a magical construct from out of this plane of existence. Mana was almost eldritch in its sheer otherness. Physical reality, not magical or constructed, comforted him in a way he felt hard to describe. It was grounding in this magical reality that was otherwise the land of his dreams and fantasies.

  The ground, however, whether it be sand, earth, or whatever else, was the exception. It felt dead. Sure, it reacted and he could detect it, but the way it pushed air and mana was far more noticeable than the way the inert material moved. It was real, just the same as air, but it was not comforting in the same way. Not like fire.

  Before he realized it, his eyes were closed. Outlines surrounded him. A hollow tube of sloshing shadow carved through the air to cave in his skull, but Rowan was already gone. A troupe of gangly limbs clawed and reached for him, hoping to pull him down and maul him, but somehow every step he took filled a space that seemed to be orchestrated for his use. Guiding him through the tangle of shadow and violence as if he was always meant to.

  Inside, he could feel the movement of his Authority surging. From his shallow reservoir, the red visceral energy clawed its way through his veins and saturated his body. It singed and burned its way through his capillaries, veins, and arteries seeming to revel and dance through his body. It traveled in random patterns, sometimes going on detours through his organs or the surface of his skin, before returning to his heart to begin again.

  The pain was indescribable, yet distant. Rowan noticed too late that he was caught up in his observation and frantically dodged under a slash aimed to decapitate him. Only for his Authority to dodge with him, bounding through his legs and calves before once again returning to his heart as he returned to his ready stance.

  He had absolutely no idea what was going on, but he didn’t dare interfere with it. The burning pain was beyond uncomfortable, but it also felt… Right.

  Bright flashes of heat and concussive force occasionally detonated near him, spreading inner shadow to paint the ground. Cells within his body shook and released explosive bursts of energy. A life-saving spell saved his life on more than one occasion. And yet, Rowan only distantly observed those feats.

  The dance of crimson Authority was far more enrapturing.

  And yet, Rowan somehow always found himself between Ark and an enemy. Between Rexen and an unintended blow that would surely kill him. Burning red energy saturated his mind and body, but it didn’t try to take him over. It didn’t scream at him and tell him to kill indiscriminately. It didn’t fill his body with overwhelming energy and passion. It simply was. Where he went, it followed. What he desired, it wished to fulfill.

  Before he realized it, silver pearlescent light illuminated his form. The beautiful cracked moon shone above him, telling a story of madness warded off for yet another cycle. The ruptures in the surface remained but had retreated for now. They were more reminiscent of hairline fractures than shattered bone.

  And with the return of the moon, his Authority once again subsided. However, where before it crashed through him burning like a branding iron, now it gently flowed through him leaving behind only the gentle kiss of fine whiskey. The burn was soothing.

  He glanced at his notifications… Nothing. Authority was outside the Shard’s purview. Something had clearly happened, though. How would that benefit him? He would have to wait to find out.

  Panting, Ark and Rexen made their way to them, Rexen giving everyone a helpful shoulder tap.

  Their smiles were absolutely radiant. Ark raised her eyes to the moon in triumph, but her speech died the moment her gaze met the lunar body.

  “It’s beautiful.” She whispered. Ark’s eyes shone silver with the light of the moon, seeming to reflect the light even brighter. Their silent Half-Elf was clearly enraptured, but not by the moon. Rowan chose not to bring attention to that, though.

  “I’ve never seen the moon look so whole before.” Vorn said giddily, taking control for a moment, “It’s like a different satellite entirely.”

  Rowan was content to observe silently in the background. This clearly had more meaning to his party than to him. He enjoyed their reactions, nevertheless.

  Like that, they sat. Their campfire had long burned out. The soft sand had been saturated in liquid shadow, hardening it like cement. And yet, they felt no need to move as they bathed in the light of the moon, radiating peace like a beacon.

  ‘Clearly,’ Rowan thought to himself, ‘Lunaris is very happy about how his revenge turned out’.