Tirren’s arms pumped as he raced up the stairs from his training room, which was in the rear in a basement section of his home. He had left Severin in the guest room, which was near the front entrance of the home. Once at the top of the stair he crept through the kitchen and peered out into the dust of what remained of his front room. Severin was pinned against the wall by an apparent outgrowth of stone and wriggling like a caught fish. A large figure stood opposite him.

  STONE ASPECT MANA. YOUR COWARDLY INSTINCTS SHOULD HELP. STONE ASPECT SEIDREN HIT SLOW BUT HARD.

  The unknown Seidren in his home was Sand-Tier. Tirren realized that his manasight had been opened unwittingly, and he spared a moment of panic in hoping that he was in control of himself for other small things. He would deal with the terror that a demon was controlling him another time. He needed to act now.

  He yanked open a drawer in his kitchen and drew out the largest knife he could find. He dashed across the room towards the invader and the man turned as he brought the knife down in an overhead stab.

  The knife stuck into the forearm of the man perhaps a half inch, and it quivered there. There was an enraged shout, and Tirren leapt to the side to avoid a fist armored with a layer of stone as it swung past. Tirren danced backwards, but was forced to dodge again when the man punched forward, and his stone-armored fist crashed forward. The fist of stone leaped away from the attacker's hand and towards Tirren. He dodged, but it clipped his shoulder, and spun him. He gasped from the pain, but didn’t have time to dwell as the man came forward again, stone mana re-forming around his fists.

  Tirren put his hands together and shouted as he released his mana in a similar throw to one he had used against his dojo leader. The Stone Seidren Braced himself and the mana hit his armored forearms. Tirren thought optimistically that he had been pushed back a step or two.

  YOU WERE GOING TO DRIBBLE MANA ON YOUR OPPONENT. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN.

  The demon sounded disappointed.

  The Stone Seidren renewed his chase, and Tirren rounded the room in what he decided was a very un-cowardly way. He ducked behind the couch as a stone fist sailed over his head, and shuffled along the back of the couch as another stone hand sailed through the furniture where he had been. Pieces of wood and cloth showered the wall as the mana attack sailed past. Tirren had now rounded the room closer to Severin, and he ran over to him. He was held against the wall by a band of small rocks that were held together by an invisible force. He clawed at the cobbled barrier, but the rocks barely shifted. Severin watched this, and then began calling out. “Jefremov, come save me!” He had clearly given up on Tirren.

  “I’m getting there, give me a second.” Tirren muttered. With a glance over his shoulder and a shoving motion, he threw some of his mana against the barrier.

  It chipped a chunk of the stone off, where it showered to the floor. Tirren dove to the side, his gut warning him of impending doom, just as a large blast of stone took the area he had been standing in and demolished it.

  He darted away again, drawing the slower Seidren after him.

  “I am Covar, from the sect of Terra magus. I am sand-seidren and I seek glory for my family and clan. Give me your ring, and I will leave.”

  “I am Tirren Stjern, and you weren’t invited into my house.”

  Tirren had used the brief respite from exchanging names to prepare mana for his plan. He ran towards the Stone Seidren, who braced himself confidently. He did not fear Tirren.

  Tirren ran towards him, and threw his unrefined mana downwards, propelling himself as he jumped with all his might in a vault over his opponent. The expulsion of all that mana pushed Tirren up and over his opponent and he came down opposite him, and ran to Severin. He released the rest of the contents of his manawell into the barrier, and the stone cracked in a large fissure. Tirren’s mana well was about empty, but he managed to dislodge the barrier with a large crash.

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  Severin yelled among the chaos, but Tirren grabbed him and threw his weight over his shoulder. He ran as fast as he could away from his home. The Stone Seidren followed them and a burst of mana nearly took Tirren’s head from his shoulders. Once they reached the street, Tirren shoved Severin in front of him forcing the boy to hold his own weight. The boy stumbled but led the way down the garden path and into the street, then followed Tirren, limping and holding an arm, as they raced off into the night.

  They sprinted together, feet slapping the ground. Severin continued to shout for Jefromov, by calling out stupid phrases such as. “Master, save me!”

  “Be quiet!” Tirren ordered in a terse whisper as they ran along. “We don’t know who is or why we are being attacked. We can make our way to the guardhouse. The leader of the guard is gravel-tier seidren, and he can help us.”

  Severin was lagging behind so Tirren slowed to a walk. Tirren felt a clanging in his gut, but it was his only warning before something hit him in the back, and he tumbled to the ground amid searing pain. He tried to roll out of the blow and came up in a stumbling crouch. Looking around wildly, he saw what was obviously a seidren standing behind him, sparks of mana flying between his fingers. He laughed manically and then he came forward, and threw a punch towards Tirren. Tirren correctly deflected it, but the lightning aspect mana electrocuted him and his spine arched in pain. He caught an electrified kick that hurled him into a nearby wall.

  Hard.

  Tirren threw his mama into a simple shield, and lightning arced over it in playful arcs after a quick attack hit it.

  The Seidren punched his mana shield and it cracked and fell apart, the invisible mana falling to pieces and fizzling back to ambient mana at Tirren's feet. The seidren hit Tirren on the chin and his head bounced against the wall behind him again. He fell in a heap. As he lay on the ground, he felt the seidren grasping at his hand with his new ring.

  TAKE THIS THOUGHT WITH YOU INTO THE OBLIVION. I WILL CRUSH HIM.

  The fight over Tirren’s free will that had been raging since Tirren had touched the cursed ring had taken its toll on his psychic muscles. His iron grip on the reins of his body slipped. He felt the panic of loss of control, but the pain together with the exhaustion left him inadequate.

  Like a man slipping under the surface of a lake, Tirren’s mind was swallowed, and he blacked out.

  From far away Tirren heard.

  I AM NO IMPOTENT TREASURE, TO BE SOUGHT BY FOOLS AND SOFT SEIDREN.

  Tirren came to, and felt an enormous headache. It took him a second to realize he was standing, and that the voice had been his own, speaking to someone else. He looked around him and noticed he was standing in the middle of the street. A body lay in front of him. It whimpered softly. The pain assaulted his busy mind next. Every muscle and bone in the entire upper half of his body was leaden and felt like he had worked them to the breaking point. A couple of his fingers looked decidedly broken.

  Then he noticed the blood. It was all over his clothes, and his fist was covered in the red stuff up to his wrist. From the pained state of his hand, and the amount of skin scraped off of his knuckles, he was worried how much of that blood was his.

  IF THIS WERE A NORMAL POSSESSION YOU WOULD NOT HAVE COME BACK.

  Tirren shoved the voice in his head, and it noticeably quieted. He was shaking. He stumbled away from the person on the road in front of him. He had the awful feeling that he had caused the downed state of the man.

  A quiet figure stood in the shadow of the eaves of a roadside building.

  Tirren threw his hands into a defensive posture but the person was Severin.

  “Do you figure there are any more?” Severin asked quietly with a fearful glance at Tirren. He seemed shaken. He had his arms wrapped around his body as if he were cold.

  Tirren didn’t know how to answer, so he didn’t.

  He took a step and fell. He thought he was only going to fall to one knee, but his body was terribly weak, so by the time he reached his knee, his momentum was too great me he found his face lying against the ground. After a brief pause, Severin was grabbing him, he was hauled to his feet, and he tried to shufflingly assist as they moved away from the crime scene.

  “What do these people want with us?” Severin asked fearfully.

  Tirren couldn’t manage much more than a groan, but he had a sneaking suspicion for their pursuit. He was half dragged for three or so streets until they arrived at an inn, and Severin dragged him inside. Tirren didn’t remember much after the innkeep and Severin dragged him to a room, and a healer was called.