Arkana.

"You seem eager for today's lesson." Garren said with a chuckle, eliciting a wide grin from Dean who nodded consecutively.

Garren lightly shook his head, a light laughter escaping his lips.

"Alright," he mutters, grabbing onto a stone.

Dean raised a brow, what does he want to do with a stone? But knowing Garren. He was always able to make out something interesting. Fascinating even, out of where he least places his expectations on.

Garren smiled, a glint of affection flashing across his eyes for a second there.

"What will happen if I let go of this rock?" Garren questioned, his white crooked teeth reflecting into Dean's pupils.

Dean frowned slightly, what sort of question is this? Isn't the answer clear enough. But still, he answered.

"It will probably fall."

"Probably?" Garren mutters with a raised brow, "You sound like a sophist, boy. Hasn't it always fallen before."

"Well, it has." Dean replied, forcing a smile.

"Okay. How well do you believe it."

"Not very well?" Dean replies, eliciting a light frown from Garren.

"Alright. Do you believe in the Gods?"

"No," Dean replies, his cold voice slicing through the desolate silence. Why should he believe in their existence. Although Garren had told him...no had written about a few of this so-called Gods. Yet the cold, and harsh truth still remains. It still clung to his heart like a foreboding mist, refusing to clear. It twisted and crept into the walls of his mind.

Twisting and wrapping it into something else entirely. He didn't believe in the so-called Gods. Why should he believe? He had called out to them numerous times, yet they had all refused to pay heed to his calls. Why!! Why had they all refused? Tears welled in his eyes, his hands tightly clenched as he stared at the cobblestones beneath his feet.

"Aioo," Garren sighed, lightly patting Dean on the head. "It's okay if you don't believe in them."

"Is it?" Dean questions, raising his eyes to meet with that of Garren.

Garren nods in acknowledgement, throwing a light smile at Dean who forced a smile In reply.

"Alright. If you don't believe in the Gods. Then who or what do you believe in, then?" Garren questioned, lightly ramming his fingers together. The sound creating an oddly satisfying rythm, that soothed the mind of those who heard it.

Who do I believe in? Dean asked no one but himself. The endless void in his mind. His eyes were laced with a tinge of confusion as he repeated the words over and over again. Gradually, clarity gnawed at him, clawing at him with each breath he took.

"Myself. I believe in myself!"

Garren first taken by surprise, didn't know how to react. But soon, he bursted into a loud laughter. "Good. Good, Dean!"

Dean smirks, while Garren carresed his head lightly. A surge of strange currents coursed through Dean as a strange warmth enclosed his body.

That strange feeling, he couldn't really describe it in words. Only that it felt great and he wanted it to last forever.

He couldn't also describe the feelings he had for Garren. To him, Garren isn't just a mentor. Garren isn't just a friend. To him, Garren is a mentor. A friend. A family even.

In this cursed world of unending agony. Old Man Garren was all he had got.

"Now. I want you to believe this rock will float away. Believe it with a faith that will move mountains and shake trees."

"But it won't." Dean said as a matter of fact.

After all, he couldn't call upon the wind like Garren could.

"That's the thing. You have to believe it will. Now, get to work boy." Garren replies, a light laughter escaping his lips.

Dean sighs, grabbing onto the rock. Just like Old Man Garren had thought him. He willed his Arcana into believing the stone would really fall and float away like a bird soaring through the heavens.

He still remembered when he had asked Garren about how he had called upon the wind in one of his battle against a supernatural creature. Old Man Garren had said he had made use of his Arcana.

According to Garren. Arcana is the force through which belief itself becomes tangible, a system through which belief becomes a powerful force. He had asked Garren, on which premise does Arcana operates on. And Garren had given a simple yet astounding answer. Arcana operates on the premise that belief has weight- when people believe in something strongly enough. It becomes real or at least, it gains the power to manifest in the physical world.

Such power seemed so untouchable and omnipresent to him. Old Man Garren had seen this and had chuckled. You don't really think that Arcana doesn't have its limits right. I had shaken my head. For it didn't seem to have one and Old Man Garren had chuckled at my ignorance.

Like all things in this world. Be it Arcanists- people who wield Arcana, to Espers and Transcenders. Everything in this world has its limits. For Arcana- the strength of your belief must be consistent and unwavering and it often takes time for reality to "bend" to one's belief. Additionally, doubts or fears can weaken the power of Arkana, causing failures or even backfiring.

I had asked Garren about transcenders and espers. But he had refused to talk on them. He had simply said I would know when the time was right. When exactly is that time? I had thought.

As those scenes flashed past Dean's eyes, he focused his Arcana. He willed his Arcana to belief the stone would float, beads of pespirations started to surface on his forehead, yet nothing changed.

Realization soon struck Dean, his eyes sparkling in enlightenment.

"It won't float." Dean mutters, conviction flashing across his eyes.

"Good. It won't. Never fool yourself into perceiving things that don't exist. Now, continue."

"B-ut..." His voice trailed off under Garren's glare as he returned to the exercise.

A few minutes easily clocked by, his cloth was now soaked in sweat, beads of pespiration surfacing upon his forehead at a breathtaking pace.

Garren nods his head, his old, almost ancient voice slicing through the air.

"Arkana is the cornerstone of Sympathy. If you're going to impose your will on the world, you must have control over what you believe."

Not only that, but for that day. He also taught Dean a game called seek the stone. The point of the game was to have one part of your mind hide an imaginary stone in an imaginary room. Then you had another, separate part of your mind to find it.

Dean had done it and had looked for the stone for days, refusing to give up. But eventually, desperation gave in and he had given up. Asking his mind where he had hid the stone. Only to find out that he hadn't actually hidden it, he had simply wanted to know how long it would take him to give up.

Dean was both surprised and shocked.

Have you ever been surprised by yourself. You might not have. But for Dean, the answer was yes.

Yes, he had definitely been astonished, surprised even. There and then, he had laughed like there was no tomorrow.

Surprised yet astonished at himself. It was no wonder Old Man Garren had said most if not all Arcanists are downright eccentric in nature. Because just like Garren had said. Arcana is not for the weak-minded!