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Practical lesson number one was finished somewhere within the later hours of the night. Turns out my first twenty minutes also happen to end up being my last as well. 

More break times were offered. Both by the gentle reminders of Ash, and the blunt insistence of Irene. In both cases I refused, I didn't need them… not anymore.

I ran out of tennis balls for myself, after all.

And when they disappeared one after the other from the tips of my fingers, I could feel them disappear. I felt myself make them disappear. I guess that's just how magic felt like. Like throwing a ball with all your might.

With all your hate.

Finally understood just what focus meant, what determination I sought for, and what intent I needed.

It wasn't perfect. Ash herself stated I still needed much for fine-tuning, more refinement, the way I was, I was still expending much more than what was deemed necessary.

But for now, it'll have to do.

Despite returning back to headquarters-central a full ten minutes later than originally planned, we were hours ahead of schedule. Ball-throwing had a window of just until sunrise. 

Well, our sunrise window was still a sinking sunset on the otherside of the planet so free time was in abundance.

Yet free time wasn't so free, not to me at least… the moment I was done tossing balls, I clambered my way through rubble and debris way down back to the fourth floor of the building in search of my second lesson.

Irene was there, a dripping paintbrush held in crossed arms, leaning against the freshly-coated doorway. Behind her was Amanda, toiling away with a paint roller, dodging and weaving around droplets of white and black pouring from the ceiling. 

"What do I do now?" I asked the weariness in her gaze.

Apparently, I was so far ahead of schedule that I was off schedule. My second lesson wasn't done being set up yet. 

I offered to jump in to help, rolled my sleeves back and everything, but yet again there Irene was, pushing me away with the tail end of the paintbrush, shaking her at me with disapproving eyes.

"If you're going to waste your energy, then at least waste it wisely," She said to me. "You help paint, then where will all that tenacity be once the second lesson comes around?" 

I batted my eyes. "Then I'll get Ash to help you instead."

But her paintbrush just continued to poke at my chest. "For reasons of the Elven kind, let's just say she can't, she'll only ruin it."

"Okay, fine," I said, conceding with a sigh. "What then?"

That's how I ended up doing some homework instead. Information gathering, as she calls it… but let's not kid ourselves, detective-y buzzwords are not gonna hide that I was essentially just hitting up the history books, which was also just another buzzword for reading the Asteria wiki once again.

According to the summoning scriptures of old, the more in-depth your knowledge about the thing you're aiming to summon, the ritual itself will have a higher chance of being a sound success.

So long story short, I was sent packing all the way back up to my training grounds on the sixth floor, huddled over beside the slumbering vampire, up against a wall with phone in hand, rubbing bleary eyes from the warm glow of the display.

As the webpage slowly loaded in thanks to a cellphone reception that's just barely above unbearable, I heard a faint squeaky meow and the patter of paws scurry about.

A lone dust-ridden tennis ball then hurriedly rolled past my legs like a withered tumbleweed in the barren desert, then suddenly a little ball of fuzzy black darted beneath my arched legs, the fuzzball gave another mighty roar giving chase.

And chasing the chaser was a pair of long slender legs, stopping just short of my feet. I looked up, and Ash was positively glowing, her emerald eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, her pointed ears fluttering in the air like the wings of a hummingbird.

Her cheeks formed slight dimples from her widened smile, a smile that I don't think has left her face for the past five minutes now. It's a world record.

"My sincere apologies, Master," She said, her eyes darting over to the four-legged monstrosity still in a high-speed pursuit. "I did not mean to interrupt your study, forgive me."

How do I forgive, when there's nothing to forgive? Since when has having fun ever been a crime? Even if it was, last I check, I was the one that told you to go have fun even when you yourself kept outright refusing me. 

It took quite a bit of effort getting you to let your hair down, so really, if there ever really were any faults, then the supposed blame lies squarely on me this time.

I mean, if it wasn't for my insistence, Mr. Black wouldn't even be with us here in the first place.

So yeah… if anybody's saying sorry to me for the disturbance, it'd be me.

"Game's over if he catches the ball, remember," I told her, tilting my head in warning. "Gotta make sure he doesn't, yeah?"

She bowed her head. 

"Yes, Master," She said joyfully, before also departing to give chase with an even bigger smile laced on her face.

I turned my eyes back down to the matter at hand, the webpage finally loaded, and my research began.

From the table of contents, starting all the way from the top of a long, slow, scrolling session. 

<<Sera Nas, Advocator Of The Damned>>

'Sera Nas is said to be a crossbreed of a Human and a member of the Fey. Given her unusual lineage, she is blessed with an almost ethereal beauty about her that would find many would-be suitors drawn her way. 

Just like any other member of the Fey, She has long violet hair that she usually covers in a shroud and luminescent yellow eyes. The rest of her face is covered in an opaque mouth veil that she never takes off even when alone with nobody else around.

She dresses in a dark purple cloak that serves to hide most of her appearance and as such little is known about how she truly looks beneath her mask.'

So appearance-wise… I'm coming up blank. Even the sample photo of her the website so generously provided left much to be desired. It's just as the descriptor said - a veil on her face, and a cloak that hides the rest of her body. 

The only thing visible was the short-ends of her violet hair streaming down her shroud, and the glint of her yellow-white eyes that seem to pierce past through the display.

I moved on to personality.

'Though never speaking once throughout her multiple appearances in the game, she is able to easily express herself through her actions, and very deducible grunts and groans. 

She is quick to anger, and will not take kindly at all to comments about her appearance, for instance, when Leonardo, upon first contact in the rocky caves of Droill, threatened to rip her veil to see how she really looks underneath, she then proceeded to respond in kind by resurrecting the long-dead giant serpent buried within the caves, to which Leonardo and party had to contend with for three days and nights.'

Nice going, Dad…

'Even among the Six Servants, she remains aloof and distant towards her peers, abandoning Azamoth to be slain by Leonardo and his party even as the former Demon Lord begged and pleaded for her aid. 

Another instance of her apathy, was when she sliced a huge portion of Carmilla's leg without hesitation nor consent to simply further her own research in the resurrection of vanquished Matriarchs. When Carmilla threatened to snap her neck for it, she just calmly walked away.'

Kay', the more I read about it, the more I'm starting to have doubts that she will at all be the cooperative Blight-undoer I thought she'd be. Action speaks louder than words, and in her case, she was all action and absolutely no words.

When I do end up summoning her, we're gonna be get the whole package here - her coldness, her impulse of anger… that's gonna all translate to the real world, her wrath will translate to the real world. 

If she gets even the incy wincy bit pissed, then I offer my condolences tp the people that day who decided to pay their dearly departed loved ones a visit in their local cemetery. 

Can't forget, she's a servant to evil for a reason… she has no reason to help us, no incentive. Who's to say I won't just end up making an already bad situation even worse by bringing her here?

I read on, just as my hopes went plummeting, and as I did, it suddenly soared again, as did my brows… I read it again, thrice more… maybe even a fourth.

Finally, for the fifth and last, I took in each word, one by one.

'That only one that is seemingly spared of her brash and ruthless nature is fellow Servant of Terestra: Eshwlyn the Elf-Knight, sharing a bond with her which could somewhat be described as familial. When Eshwlyn went missing in the plains of the Everfields after a clash with Leonardo and his party, she amassed an entire nation's worth of resurrected souls to scour the lands in search of her.

'Even when directly ordered by Terestra herself to slay the Elf once it was learned Eshwlyn had joined with Leonardo, she ultimately went against Terestra's wishes, instead choosing to spare her on multiple instances when the opportunity presented itself, ultimately bringing about her own demise by the hands of Terestra herself.'

'Upon learning of her death, Eshwlyn can be heard reminiscing to herself in camp of a kind, young girl with gentle, sad eyes whose resentment at the world had led her astray, and how she reminded of her sister from long ago. It is strongly hinted this girl mentioned refers to Sera Nas.'

Sera Nas and Eshwlyn. 

Sera and Ash.

I guess I found her one incentive.

There was still plenty more to read, so I swiped up… reaching the next piece of the puzzle.

<<History>>