The next day, spiraling energy shot through pathways within John’s body making him moan in pain. Finally! John collapsed onto his bed. He had done it. He had cleared out all the blockages and made a one second run of the perceiver aura circuit. For a brief moment he had seen/heard/tasted/felt/smelled everything around him. Even the empty air had been teeming with a multitude of different energies. It was an amazing experience. A pity it had lasted for such a short time.

John wiped the sweat off his brow and proceeded to Sor Al’s chamber, excited to report his progress.

“You have succeeded in activating the perceiver circuit,” Sor Al said, before John could boast of his success. “You have progressed far too quickly. How did you clear the blockages in your pathways?”

“I transformed the aura energy into a spiral and pierced through,” said John, proud of his achievement.

“Fool!” Sor Al’s voice grew stern, her face turning grim. Her face had never displayed such anger before. John felt quite scared at the sight. What had he done? He didn’t have the slightest clue. “You could have destroyed yourself with the slightest misstep. Do not take shortcuts again.”

“I didn’t know.” All his pride at discovering a new way to open the aura pathway had vanished instantly.

“You should have asked me before experimenting on yourself,” Sor Al rebuked him. “Jehun, I have seen many potential realm masters die from self experimentation. You must first and foremost be careful.” Had he really been that close to death?

“I understand,” John said with lowered head. Everything had worked out fine hadn’t it? He’d been able to save months of work. This was a win, whichever way he thought about it.

“You will circulate your energy to perceive the aura for no longer than five minutes at a time,” Sor Al said. “Practice until you have grown comfortable with it.”

"Okay." John was dismissed. He went back to his room and did as Sor Al had instructed but he was not able to maintain the circuit for more than ten seconds. He sighed as he lay down on his bed, memories of his past life filling him with melancholy. The old man had not lied. The memories came in flashes, but John had sorted through them during the past years and come to an understanding. He felt a deep yearning in his heart to see his parents again, and even his little sister who took delight in mentally torturing him. He missed having a family. He even missed his stupid job, though they had overworked him until he felt like quitting. Even though he had hated it, life had been steady and comfortable on Earth.

“Hail Wild Child,” a voice said in his head. “It is I, Karamen.”

“Karamen, what’s the matter?” John asked telepathically. Karamen always like to gossip. John wondered if this was just one of those moments.

“The dragon keepers have challenged the supremacy of the Ways. They have arranged a sparring contest between them and us arbiters.” This sounded exciting.

“What’s the supremacy of the Ways?”

“A little competition we have on the ship. The Way of the Warrior is ever a challenge. Idle minds and idle hands make for a demon’s light snack.” His hands were idle and his mind was tired from all the perceiving. He needed something to take his mind off the circuit.

“Can I participate?” asked John.

“Of course. That is why I have called you, young wild one. You shall be our bait...ahem...I mean our ace in the sleeve. Make way with haste to the main training hall.” Bait? Karamen had made that slip on purpose. What was he planning? It didn’t matter. John needed something new to do.

“All right,” said John, rushing out of his room.

John had never been to the main training hall before. It was shaped like an arena, the audience seated on many levels surrounding the field in a circle. There was quite a crowd in the audience, the noise of their chatter reverberating through the chamber.

John met with the red arbiters and gazed at the black dragon keepers across the field. “There are so many of them,” he murmured.

“Yes,” Karamen said, pulling John away, “They are like a herd of rabbits and we the hunters. You would not get the chance to participate in this little gathering if the numbers were even.” Karamen waved a hand and a red suit of armor floated up from the ground. “This is yours,” he said. “Training armor.” It was not as sophisticated as the armor of the other arbiters, but it was his. John was overjoyed, even though the armor looked hastily made, the joints were easily visible, and the breast plate a little dented.

“I love it,” John grinned. “Thank you.” He established a telepathic link with the armor under Karamen’s instructions, transmitting aura energy into the greaves, breast plate, helm and the rest. They floated towards him and attached themselves to his body. The armor did not fit him perfectly but it was good enough for a rush job.

Tiluniel walked towards Karamen, “Are you sure this is fine?” She seemed tormented by an inner conflict.

“Relax, Wild Child will be fine. He is like a fish in the sea, unafraid of drowning.” John stood tall and proud. Karamen had put his trust in him. He wouldn’t let him down.

“I’m talking about Edrach. This…This is not ethical.”

“Psychological warfare is our strength as well, Tiluniel. What would the overeager spectators think if we did not showcase our full power?”

“What’s this about?” asked John. He knew Edrach. He was the commander of the dragon keepers. The elf was one of the many who were unfriendly towards John. He’d always glare at him in passing and make some snide remark about the human race. He wasn’t someone John wanted to have any dealings with.

“It’s nothing, nothing,” Karamen said quickly. “I’m completely innocent.”

John looked at him suspiciously but, in the end, said nothing. There had to be some basic level of trust between friends. Karamen wouldn’t have him do anything that was dangerous.

“Now remember the rules of the contest,” Karamen said. “No aura shields. No aura weapons. The color of the training armor dims with damage taken. Once the color of the armor turns white it will make you immobile until it is reset. Do not reset the armor until the end of this merry bout.”

“All right,” said John, receiving a training sword form Karamen with much joy. The sword was blunt, but it was still deadly. Its heaviness surprised John. He noticed that the dragon keepers were getting into formation, but the arbiters seemed unconcerned. They continued standing scattered. Did the arbiters have no tactical understanding of battle? He had seen them train before. They were individually very strong. Perhaps group combat was not their strength. A gong soon sounded, its sound silencing the crowd in the hall.

“It’s time,” announced Karamen, pointing his sword at the dragon keepers. “Come, let us enter the mouth of the dragon and tickle it to death,” his voice grew sinister at the end of his sentence. John was seeing a whole new side to Karamen. He was usually so carefree. This time he seemed very menacing.

The arbiters walked forward, still in no discernible arrangement. The dragon keepers, on the other hand, stood in a neat semi circular formation, cannons aimed at their approaching rivals. The gong sounded again.

“And so it begins,” Karamen’s laughter rang out as he phased into the deep aether. The other arbiters disappeared as well, leaving John the only red armored person still visible on the field. Red fiery dragons roared all around John, five flame dragon rushing towards him, blasted from the cannons of the dragon keepers. John gritted his teeth and raised his sword. He was all alone on his side of the field. This was not what he’d expected at all. Damn that Karamen! He had been tricked.