John
II: Safety.

Once again, the world had become nothing but black, large emptiness as her consciousness was transported from one realm to another. Her primal form had been dispelled and spread out, safe to move across realms nearly instantaneously. With every experience she had with it, she felt as though she was growing more accustomed to the unreal and uncomfortable. Her body was essentially being de-atomized and re-atomized, transported somewhere, and built back together. She felt the ground once more, the sensation of cold diminished from her vessel significantly. Ezgi felt more comfortable in her skin, the shaking minimized by a larger margin. Yet, the feeling of anxiety stayed in her stomach, unable to shake off the unease she felt by being back at the tree. It was only... Well, she didn't know how long she'd been in the void, but time felt uncooperative with her senses, dislocated in her mind. 

She felt like she was starting a new journey, in a new body, in search of something to stop the aching of her mind, heart, and soul. Ezgi grimaced at the idea of seeking power selfishly, her doubts re-emerging from the back of her head. She was still deeply terrified of the idea that it would take hold of her, changing her in monstrous ways, corrupting the promise she made to herself to claim back the friend that had been stolen from her. But she felt it was the necessary leap to make. To call to a higher power that was larger, and stronger than her, to ask for guidance. She'd been alone for far too long; there was nobody she knew to help her improve, other than the distant mother that had left her to her own devices. She'd seen where that had landed her.

‎ 
But from rock bottom, there was nowhere else to go but up. She rose, opening her eyes. The world was... More vibrant now, and it felt warmer than before. Her fingers still tingled with chills, but the lack of sensation was mitigated and she could clench her hands and force them to stop shaking for a few moments. It felt like she'd been reborn. Her soul had harmonized with her vessel, and she was growing stronger from it. The terrible cold, the quaking, the pain in her head, the pain in her soul... They were still there, but it had become significantly more manageable.

Before she began the terrifying and unknowable journey to improvement, she wished to enjoy the tranquil sojourn of the tree, the brighter colors, and the lush greenery. The warmth that hit her face, the soft grass that tempted her to fall asleep and dream, the sounds that felt less muffled than before...

...The color that seemed to flow into her barely visible veins, the black influence of the void. No matter how much she felt at peace, she couldn't feel at peace with herself. The darkness in her blood reminded her of that.

She remained still for a moment longer, before clasping her hands in prayer. She bowed her head, her words shaky, but finding resolve after the first stumbles. Perhaps a foreshadowing of what was to come for her, once this was to begin.

‎ 
"O God of t-the Sword, H-Hear my prayers, I ask of thee t-to guide my shaking hands, l-lead me, the lost and tr-troubled soul, from the depths o-of my despair and g-grant me knowledge, h-however small it may be... I w-wish to know t-the secrets of your strength, to p-protect myself and t-those I hold so dearly, so I may never a-again feel this pain.. The pain o-of inexperience, of i-ineptitude, of impotence, and w-weakness... The l-loss of the people I hold so dear, ripped away from my hands, despite the force I t-try to hold them down with..."

Her eyes glow pure white. A sign of resonance with her soul and body, the harmony of the two forged by the fervent emotions behind every word.

"__**God of the Sword, teach me strength! So I may be baptized in your name... So I may never lose my friends again...**__"
Thomas
For a long, long time, there would be no reply. Her prayer went unanswered, perhaps ignored, a hopeless scream into the void.

Why did the Sword God not answer? Were they stupid? Were they deaf and blind? Perhaps they had been distracted by some business of great swordly import? Surely there were many things in this universe more pressing than the pleas of a small and helpless demigod, who had never in her life even set one foot down the warrior's path. Maybe it was only just that she was ignored, and left to shiver alone in the empty cold with only her own weakness for company.

No matter how long she seemed to wait, the reply never came. The hours stretched by, on and on, until her hope was snuffed out and her patience reached its very limit. Until doubt crept into her mind and whispered cruelties to her: that she was unworthy, that she could never change, that she should turn around and walk away and never seek to rise beyond her nature again.

And only then—*Only then*—did a chill breeze pass through the space around her, a small flurry of snowflakes that vanished nearly as soon as they appeared.

"The young sparrow asks the sky to teach it flight. That is an audacious request, Miss."

Small. So small, a narrow slip of a girl who might also have been a boy. Pale as snow, with silvery hair that went down to their thighs and still swirled around them in the aftermath of the freezing wind. Perched there on the bark like a graceful bird, they seemed less a god than a ghost, an ethereal illusion that might disappear the moment Ezgi glanced away.

Their eyes, calm as an empty sky, seemed to pierce clean through her anguished soul.

"You aren't so interesting." It was a soft voice, at odds with their supposed nature. A God of the Sword should have sounded deeper, fiercer, not like some dainty little fairy. What could a person like this even know of strength, let alone teach her? "There'd be no point in fighting you. You're already strong, but you're such a novice that I want to yawn. Why don't you find someone else to learn from instead?"

It wasn't coldness or irritation that drove Ittou to callously dismiss her appeal. If anything, they seemed more puzzled that they had to explain these things in the first place.
John
Ezgi gripped her hands together in prayer, her white eyes long since returned to normal and her hands beginning to shake and quiver from fatigue. The girl had nothing else to do, nothing more to seek, and nothing but time to waste. It was what she did when she wasted away in the Void, left alone with her thoughts and insecurities. It was no different this time when the thoughts returned and started to seep corruption into her mind. She wouldn't give up. The Gods were all fickle, selfish, and cruel, they acknowledged strength. Was Ezgi so weak that not even the source of strength she wished to draw from couldn't bat an eye at her?

No. None of this could be for naught. She couldn't afford it—Not like this. Find another way, a new way, to get into contact with them.

She'd open her tired eyes and her fatigued arms would drop to the sides, standing and turning around. It was only then that the God would make their appearance. Ezgi's brow furrowed. The cold made her hands ache.

"Y-Yeah, we-well... The f-first sparrow h-had no one but t-the sky to call to, r-right? Who k-knows, maybe I-I'm just g-grasping at s-straws. The f-fall before f-flight always seems t-to be the scariest, and mortals c-create comfort p-pretending off the c-creations of the Gods t-to ease t-their frights.." She mutters.

The girl's hands quake and tremor unconsciously again, her connection to her body still damaged. Yet, she clutched her hands tightly, forcing them still. She needed this. So she gazed upon the God unblinkingly determined. Whether Ghost or God, she would persevere.

Ittou points towards her lack of experience, which she couldn't deny. But that was the reason she embarked on this journey to change. Her hands lacked the callouses to climb mountaintops, and she wished to gain knowledge and strength. Of those callouses. For those callouses. 

Ezgi thinks for a moment on what to say, not wishing to offend the God, but not wishing to be blown off either, unsure what to coordinate her thoughts into. Yet, deep down she already knew what to say.

"W-Why, s-should I not l-learn from the best? S-Surely, someone of a d-domain such as yours would be t-the progenitor of t-the most finely honed, beautiful s-swords and even more-so p-picturesque t-techniques! U-Unless y-you mean t-to say there is s-someone better? S-Surely a pr-preposterous proposition, O God of the S-Sword..!"

Ezgi was much more of a warrior than anyone truly knew. It was why Any had placed her on this stage she stood before now, embarking on a grueling journey that would turn a stained stone into a shining jewel. It was in her blood and her spirit.

Gazing upon the God of the Sword for longer now, Ezgi couldn't deny the unorthodox nature of the God of the Sword but knew that warriors, from personal experience, were not always strong nor burly. She held no contempt nor arrogance for the God, knowing if things panned right, that would be her Master and would certainly demand the utmost respect. She craned her head and bowed on a knee.

"Truthfully, I-I... W-wouldn't have a-anywhere else t-to turn to. So I a-ask for you, O God of the Sword."
Thomas
Words poured out of the young woman, a flood of self-pity and manipulative praise. Her speech washed over the Sword God and slid off their pale and flawless skin without ever leaving a mark, and when she finally ran out of words, they only stared at her with eyes as cold as steel and dryer than the desert sands.

"...I am called Ittou." They sat down in front of her cross-legged, close enough that she could have reached out and brushed her fingers against the tip of their nose. Just when they'd approached so near, even with her eyes upon them, was difficult to tell: without any discernible gap or motion they simply *Were* Where they wished to be. *"God of the Sword* May not be wrong, but I do not feel it is right, either. I am only a sword who *Happens to be a god.* Knowing this, would you still choose to learn with me?"

For all the softness in their tone, they did not speak with kindness. It was not sympathy or love for her that motivated them to stay. Only a passing interest, and a patience for even the smallest and most trivial of things, kept them there when they could easily have leaped away to run through other realms.

"There are many other teachers." With one small hand, they rapped the bark of Yggdrasil beneath them. "The mother tree stands strong, and does not tip or falter. One could learn to stand like her, and thus become indomitable." Their fingertips rested tenderly against the tree for a moment, and then lifted, tracing slow and gentle paths through the air. A light wind blew through Ezgi's hair, and the fresh scent of wide-open spaces curled around her, promising endless freedom. "The wind goes where it wills, and can scarcely be stopped by any mortal force. Would an animal of such grace and swiftness not make for a fine teacher in the martial arts?"

Then they raised their head, and cast their eyes upward. "And the stars. Tell me, have you ever avoided their light? They thrust too quickly for your eyes to see, and should their strikes have been any more forceful you would have been killed by them a thousand times already.

"All around us there are such examples of brilliance, such peaks to aspire to. Are you blind, sparrow? For whichever way you turn your eyes, there are simpler and shorter paths than to follow in my footsteps."
John
Although not spoken with the tone of manipulative praise, she knew that those words would've meant too little and were too late to last. Yet, it was all that Ezgi was good at. She was good at speaking and being intelligent with words and yet, she never truly had the wisdom required to make the simplest of words impact the hardest. She hated the way that Ittou looked at her, the way it reminded her of her mother... And yet, the spurning in her heart for the Gods would only serve as all the more kindling for her flame of determination.

And yet, in an unknowable second, her gaze shifted from icy eyes to the natural backdrop, as Ittou flew from their position to in front of Ezgi at unimaginable speed. The girl jumped slightly and in a fluid motion, she reached for her bag and gripped something... Something inside her bag that might've been a weapon. Yet, her bag was much too small for a blade, even a dagger. Her softly wheezing breathing had stilled, and her heartbeat felt as though it steadied for the first time in a while. She shakes her head and lets her bag go, a soft clinking noise of glass emanating from it as she relaxes and takes a single step back from Ittou. 

The girl returns to her normal position after her moment of panic and gulps softly, heeding the God's voice. The God of the Sword explains their view of their position, and she nods her head, her expression solemn and her nod firm.

"I-I do."

Not an ounce of hesitation.

Ittou moves to highlight the power of the Wooden Mother, the fastidious, steadfast, and powerful source of life that surrounded them all. Yet, something she'd never grown particularly fond of. Her home, away from the life-giving roots of the tree, had never truly witnessed the caring, life-sustaining nature of the tree. To stand as indomitable as the Wooden Mother? Soon, they trace marks through the air to elicit the wind to softly blow, a soft, cold breath drawn out from Ezgi, goes with the wind as condensate as she processes the information. To be as graceful as the wind?

Then, the stars. Ezgi's eyes followed Ittou's as they gazed upon the stars, unsure how to respond to their inquiry. Once, she lived among the stars, before this life, but... To be as fast as them? 

Ezgi looked down to return to her gaze upon the God, unsure what to say, how to process the words. She wanted to say that maybe she'd ask them, but... Life wasn't that simple, was it? Nothing seemed to be that easy. The girl couldn't help but laugh, just the smallest chuckle. She truly meant no disrespect to the God, and as such, tried her best to stifle her little outburst, but it escaped nonetheless. The idea of it all was too much... It was... Madness. She felt incredulous. Was it truly possible to reach such heights?

"I-I'm not r-really sure w-what I am t-to say. I-I've never been faster than a-a star, and the Wooden Mother is... Unmoving i-in all respects... S-She do-does not s-speak, or atleast, I-I am ignorant to h-her words."

She pauses and takes a deep breath, looking back up at the stars, at the wood under them, and in the distance, feeling the wind softly brush her cold skin.

"M-Maybe I am, O God of the Sword. A-And yet... I would w-wish to follow y-yours all the same. F-For you s-speak to me, m-more than they might e-ever. So I m-may know what i-it is I d-do wrong."
Thomas
Now it was Ittou's turn to laugh. It began with mere bemusement, a flicker in their heartless gaze, but soon that spark brightened and spread flame-like across the god's youthful features. Their head cocked to one side so they could peer at her from a different angle, and with every moment they looked, their smile grew slowly wider. At last they threw back their head with a laughter like the ringing of bells, or perhaps like the clash of long blades in the thick of battle, fierce and filled with excitement.

"Oh, you poor creature!" Graceful as a bird, they sprang into the air, only to flip end-over-end and come down on their tiptoes with narrow arms spread out to either side. "You blind and talentless sparrow, who ignores the beauty of the world, and shies fearful from its endless gifts! Truly there could be no student under the heavens so wretched as you, who so lacks in all the most fundamental skills, whose mind is so grey and formless as to deny the most obvious of lessons! I see now why you came to me, and not to any other: to train you will be an insurmountable challenge, a task fit for none but the Sword of the divine."

With those words, Ezgi would witness an impossible sight: the God of the Sword *Bowed* At the hip before her, their long hair swaying with the movement. "I am grateful to you. Please, allow this humble sword to serve as your master and guide, and to hone you into a wonderful cutting edge. Grant me this right, devote yourself entirely to my lessons, and I swear I will not fail to make you strong."
John
Ezgi felt tense when Ittou began to giggle, and soon the God had started to laugh infectiously while their smile grew wider, dichotomous to the Girl's confuzzlement. As Ittou's smile grew, Ezgi felt a speckle of heat spread across her face as embarrassment sank into her tension. She felt herself slowly laugh alongside the God before they would begin to spring up across the wood.

The God had flipped several times in the air before landing in front of her and forced another flinch from the shaking girl, unsure what was to come next. However, she doesn't quite feel surprised when Ittou spews several seemingly insulting titles toward her in her descriptors to paint the picture she saw of Ezgi. She wanted to dispute her, but she knew it was probably true. But that would change. Everything would change, in time. She glanced guiltily to the side and toward the floor, expecting such harsh words from her would-be master.

Although, she did not expect what the God would do next! They had bowed down to her and immediately, her first instinct was to shake her head and try to get them to rise, but she'd stop before touching the God. She felt her embarrassment grow even further as she struggled to comprehend what to do or say next, but ultimately, she had naught to say but to respond in kind.

"O-oh! I-I'll d-do my best t-to be a g-good pupil, S-So, I..."

She bows to the God of the Sword in return, getting onto to her knees as she cranes her head down toward Ittou. She feels... Uncomfortable, seeing Ittou bow before her. 

"I-It would be a-an honor t-to learn from you, M-Master Ittou."

The girl feels a spring of vigor escape her heart as she feels the steadiest she has in a long time, her hands ceasing their shaking and her nervousness subsiding for a temporary moment, as she accepts Ittou wholeheartedly. Her heart beat loud in her ears as she feels glee course through her body, starting from her spine. 

What came next? She felt her nerves fire relentlessly, though not as anxiety. Or perhaps it was, but rather... Anxious excitement rather than fear. Here she stood, on the precipice of a new chapter.
Thomas
As the god straightened, a smile flitted across their expression like the passing shadow of a faraway bird. Even in the most barren of fields, strength would find a way to take root—and here it was! Did the demigod's body tremble at the ardousness of the road before her? *No!* Did she weep with regret and back down from her chosen path? *No!* Indeed she seemed more steadfast than at any moment Ittou had laid eyes upon her before, and that was proof enough in their view of her hidden potential, of the fire they would feed and nurture into a roaring blaze.

"...Then I will honor my word!" Smile gone, their expression now returned to its usual unblinking intensity, the Sword God abruptly widened their stance and laid their hands upon their knees. "Your old life is over; you will cast all thought of it from your mind. I grant you five heartbeats to say your farewells." With a poise and smoothness that defied all laws of common sense and gravity, they lifted one foot off the ground and up to the side, tracing a perfect semicircle through the air from Gaia's roots to the heavens above. The motion reached its apex in time with the fifth thrum of Ezgi's unsteady pulse—without once faltering along the way—only to reverse itself in the blink of an eye, a divine heel slammed down upon Gaia's bark with a force and swiftness fit to shatter the world entire.

Everything vanished at once. The ground, the sky, the entire endless view of creation that had but an instant before extended all around them.

And in its place—lush green grasses, gently sloping hills, the warm and calming light of passing midday stars. Birdsong, crisp and untainted air, a gentle breeze filled with armfuls of pink petals plucked from the branches of a nearby cherry tree.

A paradise, where nothing could ever threaten or disturb her. Or that was the impression Ittou hoped to give, anyway. They did not know the full truth of Ezgi's mind, and could only draw upon their own experiences, the times in life they had felt the most peaceful and open to the surrounding universe.

"Sit." The Sword God sat cross-legged on the grass, their small body quite literally balanced on top of a hundred tiny blades. "Don't worry, these won't cut you. They're soft, see?" To demonstrate, they plucked a few narrow green strands and held them up to the light, where they blew gently in the wind. Deadly weapons in the right hands, but Ezgi wasn't yet anywhere near the level where she'd be learning how to wield these.

First they needed to cover the basics. Like how to breathe properly, and not be scared nearly all the time.
John
Ezgi's eyes gazed upon her Master's form as they smiled, a pang of anxiousness crossing her spine and traveling downward. She takes a soft, shaky breath in and reminds herself of what she's fighting for. She fights for Thana, her mother, herself, and the principles and ideals she would follow. She clenched her hands tightly and steeled her resolve once more, watching as The Sword God suddenly widened their stance and spoke with a powerful voice.

Her brow furrowed in confusion as she didn't fully register what the God of the Sword meant, until the 3rd heartbeat and the rise of Ittou's leg, she quickly thought about saying Goodbye to her Mother, to Thana, but she knew she would return. Instead, she thought silently about what her life was like in retrospect but found nothing but suffering and sadness. She spurned the thoughts, and the 5th beat of her arrhythmic heart would end with the soft, silent sound of a girl leaving behind the damage of her past, to pursue a bright future.

And so she found herself in the void for but a moment, before the power of Ittou's strike to the ground would transport them... Elsewhere. Somewhere she didn't recognize. Her first instinct told her to analyze, detect the surroundings, and understand. Her second told her to take the view, feel the breeze, smell the grass, and taste the clear, crisp air. A calming surrounding landscape indeed, she found her heartbeat to relax ever-so-slightly. Her attention turns back to Ittou, who had commanded her to sit. She does so, planting her bottom on the ground and pulling her legs in, hugging her knees as she looks at the grass. 

"O-Of course."

She runs her hand through the grass and watches as it wilts and freezes at the touch of her bare hands, her affliction transferring to the plant's life as it stagnates and stops. She looks at it woefully for a moment, before she plucks some from the ground and looks at Ittou.

"D-Did you know, M-Master Ittou, th-that some species of g-grass have t-these small, almost invisible b-blades along t-the edges of t-their st-structures that act a-as support and d-deterrents from would-be p-predators? T-they're called Ph-phytoliths. L-Like the sm-smallest blades upon a smaller b-blade."

She smiles, the frozen grass blade laying upon her knees as she gazes toward her Master for her teachings. A knowledgeable sort, but clearly physically lacking. For now.
Thomas
"Swords upon swords upon swords! That is quite a wonderful thought." Ittou seemed genuinely impressed by the idea. In fact, they briefly fell into distracted contemplation, wondering how many fractal recursions it would be possible to forge onto a single sword. They stopped at somewhere just past a million, and refocused their gaze on clever Ezgi and her folded-up legs like some kind of hibernating insect.

"You're so strange." Their head tilted to the side, and they observed her with clear curiosity. "I wonder what sort of god made you? No matter: they gave you the ability to learn, and so they cannot be such a bad sort. We will now begin your first lesson."

At that, the god's eyes fell closed, and they drew in a deep breath. In through the nose and out through the mouth, accompanied by the gentle rise and fall of their stomach, not their chest.

"The air here is still and gentle. There are no hungering beasts, nor any foes who would do you harm. So be still, and breathe as I do." Their eyes remained closed, and they repeated their previous breath. Quieter this time, but Ezgi still had the impression they were exaggerating things for her benefit.

"Breath is a link between mind and body. To control the body, you should first control your breathing. To calm the mind, you should first calm your breathing." She had the will, she had some spark of ambition, but her feelings were like shackles weighing her down. Before should could learn, she would have to cut them away, and accept each part of herself for what it was.
John
"H-hehe, s-swords upon s-swords." She'd softly giggle, touching the frozen grass on her knees.

It begins to freeze further, turning black as it is coated by frost, fractals forming along the edges of the blade. She watches it form a Koch snowflake, the blade of grass expanding from the edges to form more of itself, creating a strange star shape that didn't quite resemble a star. She lets it go and rests it on her knees once more, before looking up to see Ittou's perplexed gaze on her. She felt a short flush of heat on her face as Ittou called her strange, a weak attempt at a smile loosely tugging the corners of her lips. Shame creeps up over her.

"O-Oh."

Upon closer inspection of Ezgi, one could see many clear peculiarities. Her hands and head seemed to move slightly every moment, shudders and trembles, tremors and twitches. She seemed accustomed to the movements, not paying them any mind. Perhaps because of this, her speech sounded so strange. She appeared... Fundamentally incorrect. The god would see so much more beyond the physical realm, although it did not make itself apparent immediately.

Ezgi's breath hitches, the mention of her God spurring some subtle adverse reaction. Ezgi gazes at the God, an unspoken plea to not tread that path just yet. Instead, she shakes her head and lets go of her legs, allowing them to fall flat against the grass and for her chest to contract and expand freely. She listens intently to the Sword God's words, nodding her head as she mimics the God of the Sword's breathing.

"Y-Yes, M-Master It-ttou."

She struggles at first, her lungs seizing on her, a clear concern. She appears to take a deep breath, but something unexpectedly stops her, before she continues taking in air, only to be stopped once more. She then reaches the apex, her chest spasming as it expands, and then a shaking, choppy exhale out. She grimaces for a moment before she tries again.

The girl clenches her hands, focusing on her breathing. She glances at Ittou's second demonstration, watching her stomach rise as opposed to her chest. She looks back at herself, taking another deep breath, intensely trained on her stomach as she feels her diaphragm open and close. The girl takes a solid, uninterrupted breath in through her nose, her stomach sucking in, holding it, and then slowly expanding again as she exhales through her mouth—Two interruptions, as she breathed out.

There was a hungering beast, but it was not a wild animal. It was the lungs inside of Ezgi, gone so long without its fullest capacity. She felt a little lightheaded but continued nonetheless. Eyes closed, she takes another deep breath in, holding, and then exhaling. Her hands tremble and shake, but she can feel her stomach growing accustomed to the motion. One interruption in. One interruption out.

"T-To calm t-the mind... To calm... The body..."

She allows her hands to relax, as she takes a single, uninterrupted breath in through her nose. She allows her stomach to rise. She waits for a moment and then breathes slowly and steadily through her mouth. No interruptions. Ezgi opens her eyes and glances toward Ittou, unsure if she must change anything according to Ittou's view. She continues, her breathing becoming more steady, her hands shaking just a little less.
Thomas
Did she shiver from the cold? That could not be, for it was not cold. Did she shiver out of fright? That could not be, for there was nothing to be afraid of here.

Perhaps, then, it was her nerves that made her shiver, strands of half-divine flesh tied up in knots and tangles that jerked her body about like a broken marionette. Or perhaps an old pain, something rotten stuck in her memories since long ago, from whence it haunted every moment of her waking life.

Ittou silently revised their earlier assessment of this girl. Now that they knew her better, she really *Was* Quite interesting after all.

The Sword God did not chide their apprentice, nor correct her attempts. They merely gave her time, to adjust and experience on her own. Minutes passed, long enough for Ezgi to get used to the steps of proper breathing, until her thoughts found room to wander and become aware of what was around them.

Her body, calmer than it had felt in some time. The firm earth beneath her, and the gentle breeze that calmly swept over her, carrying with it an ocean of sound. Now that she had space to think, where would her thoughts turn to? What questions would she ask, and what answers would she reach, when there was no longer anything restraining her?

Time became a blur. The stars slightly dimmed, as the day wore on. A new sound reached the seated demigod: Ittou, shifting, rising from the ground to their feet and stretching their arms in the air.

"Breath is vital for all of us. Even the gods need to breathe, though air is not such a necessity. Without breath, life withers and dies well before a sword can ever cut it down." Slow and easy, they let their hands fall to their sides, and shifted their feet a little further apart upon the grass.

"What do you think of it, dear student? Does breathing please you? It would certainly delight me to know. Now, if you are ready, I will ask you also to stand."
John
A broken marionette, whose strings were knotted and some even cut. She could no longer move her body as she wished, but... One could see that her autonomy was steadily and slowly returning. A puppet that could move on its own had no use for knotted, tangled, and damaged strings. They would be able to dance and move alone, without influence from another. Now all that was left was for the puppet to learn to dance once again. She'd closed her eyes.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in... Breathe out...

Breathe in. 

She opened her eyes, gazing upon their landscape once more with a renewed lens, unsure of what to make of the realm they resided in. She felt attuned to nature for the first time in a long time.

Breathe out.

Breathe in... To her own nature as well. So much suffering, so much pain, ruination, agony, crying, death. What would she do when her body no longer failed her, and she could run freely in the realms once more? What was her purpose in this life, if she could not be the daughter she once was to her dear mother? This world was riddled with so much pain, that it even clouded her Mother. She felt her heart beat louder in her ears. The soft wind took her mind from her body, roaming among the clouds.

Breathe out. 

Her trembling hands clasped onto each other, softly pressing each digit against another, memories of her past lives flooding through her like water to a lake, after a storm. Steady, yet strong. Torrential, but constant. Memories of safety within her Mother's arms, in a life they lived before this realm. A conflict. A war. A bond. A family. Her savior, her mother, who had pulled her from the brink of death and raised her. She had never forced her ideals on Ezgi; she'd never been abusive, or distant. She was not a perfect woman, but in her eyes... She was her paragon. In the past life she lived, she wanted to be just like her Mother.

Breathe in.

...But she was never as strong as she was. She was calm, collected, and intelligent, yes, but her Mother was all of those things and more. She was just... Better. Better than her in every way, without even trying. So she gave up.

...Why did she give up? Her mother was always so proud to talk about her, of her resilience despite her affliction, of how she was going to grow to be better than she was, but... She'd stopped chasing the dream. She'd settled for mediocrity, and it had sent her spiraling downhill. A muddy, dark downhill descent with seemingly no chance of climbing up. So she began to believe there was no escape—That she was stuck there, for the rest of her life. For the rest of her lives.

Breathe out.

But now she was here. She was making progress, steps to improve herself. She had her wits, her own skills, advantages, and weaknesses. Ezgi had never lost sight of that love she held for her Mother and the ideals she'd made intrinsic within her. Her love for life, her effervescent pursuit of knowledge, and her goal to protect and comfort those she loved. It was why she had chosen to become a medic, in every life she lived. To save those who would suffer like her, and let them live the life that she had. The only time she felt truly steady, was when she had been making those precision cuts, those steady, rhythmic stitches, or administering the nectar of life. Her hands stilled at the thought, remembering the focus and care.

__"The misbegotten too, deserve to live a life full of joy."__

‎ 
Ezgi felt a teardrop escape her lidded eye, falling from her duct and running down her cheek. It slowed tremendously, as it ran along the contours of her face, freezing in the air as it escaped her cheek and toward the solid ground. A beautiful, frozen teardrop that sat perfectly balanced against a blade of grass.

Ezgi opened her eyes at the sound of rustling grass, realizing her hands did not shake, nor did her breathing feel labored. She felt renewed, decompressing her mess of thoughts for the first time in a long time. Her eyes immediately glanced from the sky to Ittou who stretched to the sky. Her lips crook into a soft smile, upon Ittou's inquiry.

"I-It feels wonderful, Master. I f-feel... Different, but more myself t-than ever."

She gazes upon her hands, a clarity and focus unbeknownst to her revealing itself. Her hands barely tremored, as she thought about her handiwork as a healer. She quickly nods her head in response to Ittou, standing up.

Her breathing steady, she stood up and glanced at the teardrop, perfectly balanced on a blade of grass. Her smile widened slightly, as she refocused on Ittou.

"I'm r-ready, Master."
Thomas
Her answer earned her another smile from the Sword God, one both gentle and sincere. "You've done well." Their red eyes met with hers, and within them she could see a flicker of Ittou's inner soul—that they were proud of her, for taking this first step, for finding exactly what they had wanted her to find. 

"Remember this feeling. Hold it tightly in your heart. And if you ever find yourself lost, let it be your guiding star, to bring you back to who you are and what you wish to be." They pressed their palms together, and closed their eyes, marking the closure of this subject and the end of their first lesson.

"Now—"

They reached out, with the fluid grace of a river flowing down a mountain slope. So easy, so *Natural,* That it seemed to slip out of the mind's perception, like the sound of the wind fading away into the background as time passed. Ezgi felt their fingers brush against her collarbone, a light touch—and all at once she was falling, tumbling backward to land flat on her rear atop the soft grass.

"Try again." Ittou calmly looked down on her, their hand still held out where she'd been. "I did not ask you to *Get up* So we could run about like fools. I asked you to *Stand.* You have shown me you can breathe with adequate control, now show me you can find your balance and hold yourself properly upright." Their eyes shifted, with a small tilt of their head as they fixed upon her frozen tear. "Some part of you already knows what to do. To the rest of you, it will come easily."
John
Ezgi gleaned from the short glance of Ittou's eyes the sincerity of their praises, their smile reinforcing her resolve to continue, to allow herself to go the full mile and take this as a sign to persevere. As her Master spoke before she'd stood, she nodded her head and noted the closing on their first tutelage.

"Breathing... It is the first step to a clear mind and a steady body. When you panic, when you feel worried, when you know not what else to do, you must breathe before all else... Master Ittou's a genius, I should've realized that the fundamentals are the most important!" She thinks to herself.

When it came time for their next lesson, Ezgi had stood loose and relaxed, still growing accustomed to the ease with which she could move her body. She felt eager to learn what came next—quickly learning that Ittou was indeed a rigorous teacher. She'd watched the God move, her mind had registered the motion, yet found itself unable to decipher a reaction to their action. It was only when Ezgi found herself on the floor, against her bottom, that panic had set back in and her breathing stumbled.

"W-What-!?"

Her eyes widened, a shock to her very core as she struggled to register why she'd found herself against the grass. Her gaze fixed on Ittou, her shaking setting in before she listened to her Master's voice. Her breathing became ragged, as she failed to comprehend why she'd taken the fall. But despite that, she turned, her gaze on the grass. The teardrop that balanced steadily came into her view, as she ingrained Ittou's words into her mind.

Do not stand like a fool. Breathe. Steady your body, and steady your mind.

In, out. In, out.

Her mind focused on her body, to breathe and calm the shaking, to locate differences in the mechanical workings of her functions. Her body focused on the calm of her head. She'd regained her composure and felt the touch of Ittou's hand on her collarbone. She'd taken the fall from Ittou touching her. Was she unsteady?

Her hands pressed flat against the grass and pushed her up, standing again with a deep breath. She nods her head, her focus on her Master, her stance wide and tensed. Different from her last.

"Y-Yes, Master!"