On the outskirts of Backlund, by the Tussock River.
"Dorian Gray... that's your name, isn't it?"
The Saint of Secrets, Botis, rubbed his temples with a finger, as though struggling to dredge up some memory buried deep in his mind.
Across from him, Dorian stood rigid, his whole body tense, wary as a rabbit that had caught the gaze of a venomous snake, yet also furious, as if staring down a mortal enemy carved into his bones.
One hand had slipped deep into his pocket, gripping something, waiting for the right moment to use it.
"No need to be so tense."
Seeing this, Botis let out a light laugh, mockery flickering in his eyes. "You're a member of the 'great' Abraham family after all. Do try to keep your composure, or you'll shame your ancestors."
His words were dripping with obvious malice.
The Abraham family was a Beyonder family of deep and ancient standing, but they had the misfortune of being plagued by a strange curse, one that made it nearly impossible for them to advance to the higher Sequences.
As a result, the family's overall strength had steadily declined, its former glory fading bit by bit.
To turn this around, the family's elders began reforming the family. They borrowed from the master-apprentice system of the Life School of Thought to train outsiders who were not blood members of the family.
They hoped that, once these apprentices reached the higher Sequences, they could help break the curse that had tormented the Abraham family for fifteen or sixteen hundred years and find their ancestor Bethel Abraham, who had vanished during the War of the Four Emperors.
At first, the plan went smoothly.
The non family apprentices had no curse to worry about, and under the guidance of their various teachers they advanced at a remarkable pace, growing stronger by the year.
Within a few decades, several of them had even reached Sequence 5, while among the Abraham family's own direct bloodline, there wasn't even a single Sequence 6 Beyonder to be found.
This state of weak trunk and strong branches inevitably bred resentment.
Quite a few of the students grew ambitious, feeling they deserved more resources from within the family, that their strength and standing no longer matched the restraints placed on them. Conflicts began to erupt one after another.
And in the end, that conflict spiraled out of control.
One of the students, a Sequence 5 known as the Traveler, Botis, fell prey to the temptations of a True Creator.
He led a large number of fellow students into joining the Aurora Order, and turned the Order's resources, along with the friction already simmering between the students and the family, into the fuel for a horrific catastrophe.
The Abraham family suffered devastating losses as a result, and many of their most powerful sealed relics were lost.
As for Botis, the one responsible for it all, he reaped enormous rewards: he successfully broke into the demigod Sequence and became the Aurora Order's Saint of Secrets.
"Botis, you vile traitor!"
Dorian knew full well how powerful Botis was. Though rage burned inside him, he still held himself in check and did not act rashly.
"Vile? Me?"
Botis let out a dry laugh. "I only did exactly what all of you wanted: kept climbing the Sequences. As for the Abrahams who died because of it, well, I suppose you could just call them unlucky."
At that, his eyes shifted, sliding past Dorian to land on Fors standing behind him.
"So this is your new student? Heh. Your last one, Lewis Wien, happens to be in Backlund right now. Want me to call him over so he can pay his respects to you?"
Under the hostile stare of a demigod, Fors felt as though the air itself had turned to lead. As if to fight off that crushing sense of despair, she gripped the bronze colored notebook in her hand even tighter.
And Botis clearly recognized the object.
"Lenormand's Travel Journal?"
His expression twisted, curling into a cold sneer. "Heh. Back when I was a mid level Sequence, how badly I wanted that journal... yet the Abrahams kept me at arm's length the whole time, never once caring what I needed. And now, have you all finally learned your lesson?"
The notebook seemed to have stirred up some unpleasant memory, and Botis finally let the side of him that belonged to an Evil God's disciple show through, extreme and unhinged.
A terrifying pressure rolled outward, and the whole stretch of space around them flickered and shimmered. Even the quietly flowing waters of the Tussock River rippled with an illusory, ethereal starlight.
"Kh, khem..."
Fors barely managed to stay upright under that crushing presence. Just as she was about to murmur the sacred name of the Fool under her breath, she suddenly felt Dorian lean in close beside her.
A moment later, his voice dropped low as he said to her, "In a moment I'll hold him off. The instant you get the chance, run, don't look back!"
Dorian spoke fast, urgent.
"In the side compartment of the safe in my office, there's another person's contact information. He'll take responsibility for you, and become your guide on the path of the Beyonder going forward."
Fors froze.
Something cold pressed into her palm: it was a brass colored key, pushed into her hand.
Space shuddered and flickered, everything in her vision blurring and overlapping into illusion. In that moment, Dorian's thick, solid arm felt like the one steady, dependable thing in the world.
"Teacher... teacher..."
"Listen to me! About me, about our family, I don't have time to explain everything, but you have to trust me, I mean you no harm... consider it me begging you, you must help our family fulfill that long held wish!"
Dorian gave Fors no chance to ask further questions.
The moment he finished, he raised his voice and shouted across at the now furious Botis, "The elders wouldn't give you Lenormand's Travel Journal because your ambition burned too fierce! You don't deserve it!"
His words struck home instantly, and Botis, this Sequence 4 Mystic, finally moved.
Shwip!
Deep within Botis's eyes, the illusory image of a book appeared, and at the same moment he raised his right hand.
Blazing white plasma churned in his palm, and as he thrust his arm forward, terrifying lightning came crashing down without mercy.
BOOM!
A storm of lightning descended upon the riverbank.
"Now!"
Watching the lightning fall like rain, a look of grim resolve crossed Dorian's face. With a swift motion, he pulled a small silver metal blade from his pocket.
This was an item belonging to the Warrior Pathway.
Once used, it would let him briefly wield the Warrior Pathway's power, conjuring a Guardian's barrier.
That barrier would be more than enough to buy Fors the time she needed to escape. But the price was steep: the massive drain on his Spirituality would burn through his body and kill him instantly.
"Botis, my student will avenge me!"
He thought this to himself with iron resolve, clutching the talisman tight, watching the thunderous bolt come crashing down... huh?
Where was it?
Where was the lightning?
Where had that vast sheet of lightning gone?
A look of blank confusion crossed Dorian's face, though it was hardly his fault.
That once mighty storm of lightning had, by the time it reached the two of them, teacher and student, shrunk down into a thin, pathetic little snake of electricity that simply burrowed into the ground, causing no effect whatsoever.
"...?"
He stared down at the spot for a few seconds before he couldn't help it any longer, and looked up at the equally stunned Saint of Secrets across from him.
What in the world was Botis up to?