The sky was without sun, on a truly hopeless day. Staring each other down were two men—a tall purple-eyed figure in a kimono with a bloody bandage covering his left eye and the Hollow Progeny, a being of aether which lacked the essence of life itself.
The man in the kimono spoke, "Nireth, it is not like you to ask for a spar."
The Hollow Progeny, Nireth, smiled, his hands covered in ice that formed claws. And he then responded, "I have nobody to fight, Ziroth."
"What good is fighting, if you don't even understand what you're made of?" Ziroth said, an aura of indigo surrounding him. "Aether is the ever-present energy we wield, the very force which allows you to exist, Aethereal Being." Ziroth continued, stepping closer to Nireth, "And yet, one would say that I have a better understanding of it than you do."
Ziroth looked into Nireth's eyes, a sense of dread emitting from them. He took a step forward.
"You are way open," Nireth spoke, waving his hand upwards in Ziroth's direction, causing an iceberg to rapidly form from nothing—an attack of ice. "Can't believe you fell for it," he added, smirking.
And as quickly as the ice disintegrated, so did Nireth's smirk when the aura of the one named Ziroth filled the air. He looked back to see the man unharmed, staring at him, flames swirling around his hand.
"Nireth, do you know what chants are?" Asked Ziroth. Before Nireth had a chance to answer, Ziroth continued, "Our Aether techniques cannot reach their maximum potential in reality. Chants allow us to bypass this restriction, to bring the most powerful version of our techniques into the world."
Ziroth then began chanting ominously, "Embers of the Eternal Flame," his flames becoming violent, ever-devouring. "Searing Crown," he continued, "Ignis."
The chant was complete and the flames raged on, forming a flaming sphere in Ziroth's palm, which Ziroth leveled at Nireth's form. Ziroth spoke, "Innate Technique: Infernal Ascent."
Within mere seconds, flames had consumed the entire battlefield, Nireth's screams the only sound louder than the crackle of his own scorching flesh. The nearby verdure was no longer a lush green. In fact, it no longer existed at all.
"I ensured that the flames will not kill you, Progeny." Ziroth spoke, "But I suggest that you abstain from challenging me, if such a thought ever crosses your mind again."
Nireth, too consumed by pain the likes of which he had not felt before, gave no answer.
Ziroth circled around Nireth. "I believe you need a re-education in the arts of Aether, Nireth," he said. "Aether techniques have three main types. The most fundamental are Personal techniques," he added.
With a wave of his hand, Ziroth healed Nireth's wounds and continued his speech. "That is because they are the result of a person creating a concept within his mind and realizing it through Aether manipulation."
Nireth stood up and took a few steps back, all in complete silence as Ziroth continued lecturing him. "From there, a Personal technique may be adopted by the masses, becoming an Aethereal technique—the weakest and most widespread type," Ziroth explained. "Or, it may be perfected by its user, so thoroughly that it engraves itself onto his very being, becoming an Innate technique to be passed down through his bloodline—the strongest type of technique."
Nireth spoke up. "I know! I really do! In fact, my ice technique is an Innate one!"
The result of his words was finding himself suddenly pressed against a wall—Ziroth pinning him to it effortlessly.
What speed! Nireth thought.
"But you do not know about Aethereal Projection, do you?" Ziroth asked. "An Aethereal Projection is, in essence, the transportation of the user—and anyone he chooses—into the inner world of his Aether, within which he gains a massive boost in power," Ziroth added.
Nireth, somewhat knowledgeable, asked sheepishly, "And it is within the Projection that all of the user's techniques are at their maximum output, correct?"
"Correct, Nireth," Ziroth reassured him as he effortlessly threw him across the ashen battlefield. "Six months from now, the future representative of the Wright bloodline will begin his second year at the Aether Academy," Ziroth said.
Nireth looked at him, puzzled, and asked as he stood and walked closer, "And of what use is this to me?"
"Put simply, I have a plan to make him go berserk—to effectively cut the Wright bloodline off from the Aether world for some time. Only if this succeeds will I be able to fulfill my true goal... one hundred years from now," Ziroth said, his eyes lifting to the sunless sky.
"And you want me to cause this?" Nireth asked.
"Indeed." Ziroth agreed, "There's this phenomenon—the Purity State. Within this state, a person's Aether physically changes to be half their own and half the universe's. This results in an unsure shift in personality, due to the chaotic nature of the universe," he continued.
Grabbing an apple that had been just outside of his flame technique and biting into it, Ziroth kept speaking, "The Wright Bloodline is known for having Aether very similar to that of the universe. This practically means that a Wright in the Purity State becomes a bloodthirsty beast of destruction, an agent of chaos." He took another bite, "my plan is to have the future representative of that bloodline killed before he can reproduce," he concluded.
Nireth considered the request, but he knew that he had no choice but to obey his master. He thus spoke, "Fine, I will think of a way to trigger that state you mentioned," he continued, "but don't expect me to put myself in harm's way for it either. The moment things get dangerous, I am leaving."
Ziroth chuckled and responded, "Try not to get killed, being of Aether. You are at a greater disadvantage than us humans, with your life dependent on your Aether reserves," he then went on to say, "it would be better if we left. The academy is sure to send a Virtuoso-tier aether user to investigate the sudden discharge of Aether."