Man was standing in the middle of room with a baby in his hands, and a woman was

standing next to him. They were looking at their son, they silently discussed something
whispering. Baby was actually very calm and not crying, which is not usual for them.
"I will train him, there's really no nothing you could do to stop me. It's his legacy, after all.", the
man spoke as his deep voice ascended from whispers.
"But in world we live... Its world full of darkness, night folk are incrasing. Omens say that end is
close... Do you really want that future for him?", she said.
"Not that I want that future for him, but I want to give him a choice. I will train him, and when fully
able to determine and make decision and his own choices, he will have one.", he said gently
placing his hand over baby's left cheek. Woman sighed, taking baby to her, kissing his forehead.
She nodded to her husband's decision as he actually made it clear. She didn't want a fight right
now. She stepped out from the house in the freezing night. Snow was slowly falling down, but
temperature fell pretty low. She made few steps from the door, just looking. Her eyes were lost in
far-away, grasping the picture of a rural countyside and a snow falling covering little houses. As
the moon ascended above her, she was thinking about what is their future.
Tellurian, she thought, its breathing. She looked down at the baby and smiled, turning him so he
could see what charmed his mother. As snow slowly fell from the sky, a music started in the
background. Her husband always loved classical era. She embraced her son in a soft hug as she
whispered a prayer to the Goddess, warming their bodies. She stayed there a bit longer, but
eventually after some time so went back in. She found her husband drinking a glass of wine while
reading a book. She leaned forwards and kissed him, giving him their son.
If it could be, she thought, always like this.

Long brown hair was raised by the wind, as the man was holding a spear in his arms.
"Combat is as important as studying. If you don't know how to survive in this world, you will die. I
mean great, you know how to play piano. Yeah, it's great that you know how to grab stuff from the
kitchen and make something to eat. But what you truly need, now, is knowledge to survive. That's
not fucking around. There are two things. You and the nature, and believe me: if you don't fight
back it will crush you. Whole universum is alive, we already spoke about it but you can win in the
fight for survival with it. It's hard, but its possible. Surviving in a wilderness without nothing is what
you truly need. To grab an animal with your hands and choke it to death only to eat it after. Don't
you shake your head like that. If you dont eat, you'll become weak. If you are weak, you die.
Simple as that. Now grab that staff and hit me. Hit me with all strength you got.".
The boy picked up the wooden staff from the ground and used it to hit the man with all his
strength he could gather in a single hit. It was merely felt by him, but he chuckled. Then he took
the same staff and hit the boy with it. Sudden strike, and a pain flashing through boy's body in an
instant - threw him on the ground. Boy started to cry, only to be meet by another hit. He tried to
protect his face, but man simply commanded 'Get up', hitting him again. Leaving bruises on his
hands, boy tried to stand up and check his wounds, but then final blow to his face sent his teeth
out from his mouth, and boy again ended up on the ground screaming in pain. His mouth filled by
blood soon enough, and broken teeth were shattered in pieces.
"That means to feel pain. /That/. Now. Don't get any help. Go and practice.". The man threw his
staff away and turned. The boy was left on the ground trying to stop his pain, but without much
success he stood up and did what his father said to him.
"You are weak, if you dont want to practice just say it. I know you want it to stop.", said the man
before finnaly leaving.

Not a boy anymore, but not a man either. He stood up holding a sword in his hands. His
opponent his father since his childhood, and even in the moments when Kyle thought he had a
victory is father seemed to always gain advantage and send him on the ground. This time they
had a spar in the forest, among the trees. Swords were dancing in their hands, and they were
both good. Excellent. But, someone always needs to be better. His father was relaxed, parrying
Kyle's attacks with ease while attacking him with more strength each time. Kyle had to make
steps backwards, to avoid father's strength. As he walked backwards, soon his back met the tree.
He couldn't go backwards, so he switched to attack. He leaned a bit forward and sent a strong
attack over to his father, but with a swift move of his sword - Kyle's flew away. Without a sword,
he raised his hands up in a surrendering manner. The man chuckled as he drove the sword
through Kyle's abdomen, ultimately stabbing it into the tree. Pain consumed Kyle like never
before. He looked into his father's eyes, looking for explanation. But his face was emotionless,
and he whispered only one thing.
"Pathetic", he said before turning around and leaving his son in the forest stabbed into the tree.
Kyle's screams raged throughout the forest, and his mother eventually heard him. She ran to him,
only to find him bleeding to death with a sword through his abdomen.
"What happened?!", she screamed, as he finnaly came.
"We-we had a spar and he.. Ughh", says Kyle in pain as blood was leaving his body. Pain was
immense and he was struggling to breath, coughing blood.
"Why would he do something like that... Hold on, I have to pull it out". She grasped on the end of
the sword and pulled it with her whole strength, but that was enough. With three more tries, she
pulled it fully. Blood was falling from it, and Kyle fell on the ground. She used her hands to torn
apart his shirt, placing her hands over his wounds. She started to pray to the Goddess, pressing
the wound. Her Arts enabled her to bend the Reality, and his blood started to restore itself,
closing the grevious wound.
"Why would he do that?!", she asked while cleaning her hands from the blood.
"He wanted to prove that I'm still weak", said Kyle.
"Oh, my sweet boy", said she while embracing him and closing her eyes. What could possibly
turn her husband, monster that exists? She helped him stand up, helping him to the house.

He didn't know why did his father act to him like that. Yeah, he wanted to make him
stronger, but was that the best way? How many times did he get stabbed, by now? Or got hit
without a reason?
Those thoughts were torturing Kyle for weeks. Training didn't stop, though. Even if Kyle didnt
want to, his father made him do it. Sometimes, they'd be practicing his Arts. He loved those
lessons, but other times his lessons were about becoming stronger. He hated those. It would
nearly always end up by Kyle being beaten, stabbed or bleeding in any possible way. He'd then
try to use his Arts to restore his paterns, but sometimes wounds were too deep so he had to ask
for his mother's help. But even if Kyle didn't realise it, those lessons helped him make his senses
more stronger, make him stronger and able to attack and defend himself. He didn't want to admit
it, but sometimes he'd be actually grateful for his father teaching him so much. Even after being
stabbed and left in the forest, he learned never to lower himself and not to reveal too much of
himself without any protection. Sometimes, when he had trainings, his Avatar would appear
behind his father guiding him. With her advices, and with confidence she gave him through her
instructions, he'd be able to overcome his father in duels. Once, he went too far to actually stab
his father himself, leaving him on the ground as sword was sticking out of his chest. He knew he
couldn't die, as he merged his patterns together too fast. Sometimes, it'd happen that even if he
stabs his father and pulls his sword / knife out, he'd get up in an instant and continue fighting. It
was like fighting a tireless beast, never stopping, never ending. Where Kyle had to stop in one
point due to tiredness, his father never seemed to be tired. He'd always be up for a duel. What
seemed to be spars at first turned into duels later. There were no friendly spars, in each of their
trainings they'd hit, and stab each other. Sometimes, they'd even fight with Arts. It's obvious who
usually won in those, but tactics his father employed were fascinating and Kyle learned a lot from
them. For example, a magi is not that good in psyhical fight unless he prepares himself. Always
expect unexpected, always play everything in your mind. Everyone is your friend, everyone is
your enemy. Doing that, you won't ever be suprised. When your opponent makes a move, you
willl know it. When it thinks about it, you will be [Link]'s you play the game, you either die
or you win when it comes to real fights. There's no something inbetween or a boundary where
you stop and say 'That's enough'. You either kill or be killed.

Practice in his Arts was nothing similiar to his physical condition trainings. Often, he'd be
wondering in the forest with his father. You see, many verbenae are of the true blood. They could
trace their lineage back to the Wycks, and that was the case with out familly too. But where
others of such heritage often joined Gardeners of the Tree, his family saw glory in being a Moon
Seekers. Sure, some of them were not recognized as true Verbenae among others. 'What the
fuck aer you doing with that car? It's fucking technocracy's creation', they'd say. But even if I was
raised in the county side, I had no problems with using technology. Technopagans started to be
pretty common thing with technology age. Sure, I knew how to use herbs, stars and runes to use
my Arts but I also knew how to use modern music into my advantage. My father was, truly, Life
weaver. But he met my mother, and they ended up together. I pretty much got... Uh.. Both
knowledges. But, back onto the subject. My Arts progressed a lot. I had learned a lot from my
father, but as I seeked knowledge more than anything else, I found other amongst Verbenae
willing to take new apprentice under their wing. In that way, my mainly focus, naturally and
obviously, was the Art of Blood, but soon enough I've found my interest in the Art of Pathways
and the Art of Fates. Naturally, my affinity was priority. The Art of Pathways was my second most
known Art, while I grasped mere basics of the Art of Fate I did know it to some extent.
Of course, training my Arts was as hard as my physical aspect of training. I firstly trained the Art
of Blood. I trained it since I was a kid basically, 13 years old. To teach me this, my father wanted
to make me feel /life/. To feel it all good and bad sides. My physical training had reflection on
training of my Arts through that. Stabbing me with a knife, he'd want me to focus onto my Arts
and rebuild my patterns. Naturally, this Art came to me easily as an affinity. The Art of Pathways
was harder thing to learn. Just like spiders in nature goes through his webs to get from one
location to another, we Verbeane locate the ley lines and move through their paths to get from
one location to another. My time spent in learning about the Art of Pathways was around eighteen
months. In that time, I firstly learned to locate the ley lines of my surrounding and place, not
whole me, but my senses there. Secondly, I evolved my first ability into observing other location's
without actually being there. My study pretty much ended up there, but it was still very useful.
Now, the second part of my studies was the Art of Fate. What is life without death? The Art of
Fate, the Art of decaying, death and life continuing. I learned mere basics of it. There is where my
training of Arts ended.

When I finnaly finished my father's physical training, and that pretty much happened
when /he/ dropped exhausted on the ground. Even if all my trainings said to finish him off (we'll,
not completely as he'd restore his patterns back up), I simply didn't. I walked away. He passed
down his knowledge onto me months before, but he still believed that physical aspect is as
important as mental one so we continued my trainings. Well, I can't really say I am ungrateful.
They were harash, he did stab me, I did nearly die. But, after coming out I was stronger. Sure, I
had a lot of scars. Nothing my Arts couldn't fix, and I was in dilema should I actually cover them
up. They were not that nice. Ugly masses of damaged skin. But after thinking, why should I do
that? Yeah, I could do it but then why would I, honestly? They are reminder of what I had to go
through, each of them tells some story. They'd be there to remind me through what I had to go to
end up where I am today. Anyway, back onto the subject. I finished my mental training, my
physical training and learned pretty much everything I could from people around me. So it was
time to move. Firstly, I didn't want to move /too far/. Like changing a country, but a city and
environment - definetely. I moved from noisy Los Santos to peaceful Red County. Well. There are
few reasons I went there actually. Firstly, I heard they got unique town beneath the ground.
Folnkirk, they call it. Never heard of such a thing. Secondly, it was county side which meant
there's a forest nearby. I'm not a Gardener of the Tree, nor a Twister of Fate. I have been trained
by a Life weaver but I adopted ways of the Moon Seekers. So Red County was pretty much great
for me.