Memory Anchor
Fate's eyes creaked open.
Only now did it hit him that his eyes would no longer cause him problems. The source of eighteen years of hell and hate over something he couldn't control was gone for good.
A laugh leaked out of him, bubbling out in small chuckles before erupting into a boisterous laugh that rocked his shoulders and brought tears to his eyes.
When the shakes of his laughter caused his scar to twinge with pain, it only redoubled his enthusiasm.
He didn't care if people hated him for his scar. The mark on his back was something he had brought upon himself, unlike his eyes. Being hated for his actions was far better than what he had lived with for the past eighteen years.
His nonexistent care for other peoples' opinion on his scar, if there was any, would've lessened even further by his resolve to do it all again in a heartbeat.
Had he known he was going to be whipped and have his pride dragged through the mud, he would've made it worth the while.
He would've gorged himself on apples until he was full for the next week, instead of the paltry handful he had taken for fear of being caught.
With that in mind, why should he care about what others thought about his scar? While he wasn't proud of his theft, he was overflowing with pride showing the people of Brergan how little he respected them.
The attacks the other children had coordinated against him were perfect excuses to crack a few skulls and knock out some teeth.
He'd love to see how Yolden was doing with half of his adult teeth missing. Just the thought sent him into another fit of laughter.
Now he was a Guard in training, with a Facet and a bright future, while they were stuck in that rat-infested shithole, living with the knowledge that the freak they all hated proved to be far more valuable than any of them.
The harsh glare Freyn sent Fate's way killed the laughter in his throat, and he remembered what he was supposed to be doing.
He cleared his throat and closed his eyes again, ignoring the frown on Pethren's face as he settled back into a meditative position. Cait and Ashla were unbothered by his outburst, Freyn's Skill, and their own focus allowing them to shut out all distractions.
It seemed that the Skill wasn't as good as Fate had assumed, however, but one could only expect so much from a Master using his Skill on four humans and two Magical Beasts at once.
There was also the matter of sustaining the Skill long enough for Freyn's students to accomplish their task, which meant he was likely using his Skill in a type of slow-burning way.
Fate pushed those thoughts into the fire within his mind, feeling them burn with satisfaction, before focusing back on his chosen memory.
Even after reconciling with Samantha, this memory was no less painful for him, which meant it was perfect for a Memory Anchor.
Now came the next step.
It was stated before that one's Facet existed on a separate plane of reality. How, then, could it influence the material world?
The answer was that there was a connection of sorts that existed between a Mage's mind and their Facet.
This was where one's Mana came from and how their knowledge of their Facet was stored in their Facet.
Calling this connection a "doorway" would be inaccurate. It was more like a semi-permeable wall in one's mind that led to one's Facet, with a special filter on it that dictated what could go in and out, a lot like the plasma membrane of a cell.
Fate's task now was to focus on his chosen Memory Anchor, channeling the Negativity within until this connection made itself apparent.
He took deep breaths, sinking deeper into the memory.
The smells around him, the feeling of the warm air on his skin, the ache of every muscle in his body from the tensing he had undergone while being whipped, the faint scent of Samantha's perfume, he recalled all that and more.
His previously joyous mood soured considerably as he replayed the memory again and again in his mind, reliving one of the worst days of his life over and over again.
She was the first person his own age that he had ever bonded with, the first person he could consider a friend.
His mother's death had hurt, this was indisputable. It had torn a hole in his heart that hadn't mended years later, but Samantha had dug her fingers into that hole and ripped it open twice as wide as it was at its inception.
Fate had thought he had found someone his age that saw him for who he was, like his mother had. He loved his mother, and he loved Old Man Travis like a father, but Samantha had filled a niche neither of them could.
His infatuation, as was often the case for teenagers, was irrationally strong, causing him to grow attached to Samantha more than was safe.
Without realizing it, he had placed her on a pedestal within his mind, giving her the perfect vantage point to shatter his entire worldview.
Samantha had fled from Brergan shortly after that one-sided conversation, but she hadn't left that pedestal within his mind for years afterward.
A faint feeling sprouted within his mind, turning more tangible the longer he focused on his Memory Anchor.
Not long afterward, he felt it, a thin wall deep within the recesses of his mind. Brushing his consciousness up against that wall sent a jolt down his spine, but it faded shortly after.
He mustered the full force of his mind and turned his full attention to the wall, sucking in a shuddering breath when he felt his consciousness pass through.
He was bombarded from all sides by the many things he had learned about his Facet since his Awakening.
But wait… what was this? He didn't remember any of these. Where had they come from?