Chapter 6 - Warmth & Pride

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Caim's eyes shot open. Though his breathing was steady, his heart was still racing. His left hand was clenched tightly as if holding something dear, but upon opening it, only cool air filled an empty space. He took a long, deep breath, slowed his heart rate, and smiled wildly, revealing two sharp fangs.

The first light of dawn burned softly on the distant horizon, and the trees of Neverend stirred before the breeze. For a good long moment, Caim took in the distant sunrise, remembering the feeling of the bell in his hand. They had done it. What had felt like a blink of time, had in reality, taken them the entire night.

Storm was to his left, still floating, with his face hidden beneath his hood. He, as well, slowly opened his hand, as if what lay within was more important than his own life. Yet there was nothing in his palm but the memory of a great weight.

"I can't believe it . . ." Storm whispered. "We did it."

Despite his pure exhaustion, Storm felt like he had just emerged from a thousand-shade meditation. Taking a long, soothing breath, he found his focus. It was not meditation they were emerging from. It was not anything so tranquil and peaceful. They were emerging from the world of Inner Depths: a sleeping world within one's own mind. It was a world that, in many ways, was unexplainable, one born of their emotions, fears, and memories.

Storm toyed with the thought in his mind. He had never fully understood what it was or how it worked, but he thought of it as a separate world within one's mind that one could enter, if they had completed the proper training for the technique.

Storm understood only a few things about the strange practice. He knew that Inner Depths was a world that all sorians had sleeping within their own individual minds, yet most were unaware of it, and were thus unable to find it, let alone enter it. It was highly probable that the vast majority of sorians did not even know it existed. It was a place of overwhelming difficulty to reach, and was only accessible through cycles of rigorous training and the passing of certain stages. He also knew to the best of his knowledge that the creator of the technique was their own grandfather, and that it had taken Storm himself nearly two full cycles before he had glimpsed his own world for the first time.

They're so different, he thought, thinking of his own world in comparison to Ronin's.

Storm suppressed a shiver as he recalled the catastrophic state of Ronin's world. It had been so real. He could still nearly feel the scorching heat of the flames, the bite of the ice, and the sharp of their blades. A few more seconds and they would have succumbed and fallen. It would have meant their deaths, or perhaps, something even worse.

Storm glanced down at their three swords poked into the ground. He figured that the weapons were the link and connection between them to the world they had entered. He remembered Ronin telling them that all of their swords had to be touching, and felt the answer taking shape in his mind. Not only did one need complete mastery of oneself, and the technique, but it seemed also the touch of something that linked them all together.

Storm looked at Ronin, his faded black cloak hanging from his shoulders in a kingly fashion. His eyes were still closed, as though lost in a distant meditation. His gaze ran over a tattoo on Ronin's chest, a light crow circling above a dark one.

Storm pondered the true extent of their grandfather's ability. Accessing one's own Inner Depths was one thing, but pulling others into your own mind was another thing entirely—a technique that only their grandfather had mastered. Despite their long and difficult training, neither Caim nor Storm had ever ventured into each other's worlds. But that didn't matter to Storm.

They had done it.

They had beaten the old man.

A sudden feeling of mirth surged through his heart and mind. After so many cycles of training and fighting and failing, they had finally completed their final test. Storm felt his smile widen, taking in the moment of triumph. At last, he was a fully-fledged swordsman, once and for all.

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"Yosha!" Caim cried out, as if reading Storm's mind. "We did it! We really did it!"

Storm heard Caim's voice carry out across the sky, and from the treetops of Neverend flew a flock of bright blue birds. Caim laughed at his noteworthy accomplishment. The look on Caim's face was childish and pure and beautiful, and Storm couldn't help but smile.

Ronin opened his eyes to the sight of blue birds flying. He looked over at Caim, clearly overjoyed and triumphant, and then at Storm, who seldom showed his emotions. This was a moment Ronin had long sought, yet all the while, was never sure if he would actually live to see the day. For a second, he shook his head, unable to believe the truth of it, but the memory of the two boys holding the bells underneath the moon resonated strongly in his mind. He had made the right choice.

"Well, I must say . . ." began their grandfather.

Caim looked up in anticipation. Storm's ears perked out from under his hood.

"You boys really are full of surprises," he laughed. "I suppose I can finally consider both of you strong. But don't let it get to your heads! There is always more to learn, and more challenging things to overcome."

"Never underestimate our awesomeness!" declared Caim. He laughed and rested his hands on the back of his head, staring off at the sunrise. He could feel the warmth on his face like fire on a cold night.

Ronin ran his fingers through his long black hair. "Well, that was quite the play of theatrics at the beginning, Storm. But turns out you had to work with your brother all along in the end."

Storm smirked. "It may not have worked, but you can't deny our success, nonetheless."

Ronin took in the sight of his grandsons. "I have to say, at the end, with the world's destruction rising . . . you two really came together as one. Although it's shameful to think, a piece of my mind was convinced it might never happen. I suppose apologies are in order for my doubt, as you two proved me to be completely wrong."

"Told you not to underestimate us, old man," said Storm. A strange feeling overcame him at the sound of his own voice. The thought of their training being complete was almost unfathomable. Everything they had worked for since they were little kids . . . all the sweat and blood lost, all the sleepless nights and mental torture, — or so it felt at the worst of times — was all over.

It's . . . over, Storm thought, feeling a sudden touch of sadness. I can't believe it.

Ronin's eyes darkened. "You did it again," he said, eyeing Storm like a hawk. "And don't think I have forgotten all the times you did it while we were fighting in Inner Depths, Storm."

Storm looked up at Ronin, feigning an innocent look. He knew what was coming.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" said Ronin, standing and rolling up his sleeves. His eyes grew colder as he walked closer. Caim took one, then two, then three far steps away from Storm.

"I'm . . . not . . . OLD!" Ronin roared at the top of his lungs.

WHOOSH!

Storm ducked just in nick of the time, dodging the old man's fist. Over and over, Ronin's punches broke the air faster than the eye could see, but Storm laughed, leisurely dodging the blows time and time again.

"Take it easy, old man, you'll pull a muscle," Storm jeered as he dodged another blow.

"You have an incredibly sharp mind, Storm," said Ronin, continuing his barrage. "Everything you chose to say to me in the beginning stemmed from truth. And I know a part of you really does feel that way. But it did not avail you, did it? Despite the flawlessness of your performance, it did not unfold with the climactic ending you had intended. Ultimately, it came down to raw grit, trust in your brother, and the resolve to never give up."

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