Burning off the Darkness

[Dream Wolf]

Fang was acting up again, so Dream was running laps, lots and lots of laps. He had lost count at fifty-three, and started again and was on twenty-seven, but he wasn't sure how many laps he had run after losing count and before starting again. He was one of the youngest students, as he had been admitted to the Academy at age eleven because of his special circumstances. He would prefer to be working at the forge, but his forge privileges had been revoked after he punched another student for saying his mother and father had run away, not drowned like everyone said. The other student had been forced to recant his statement and apologize, but Dream had lost his favorite pass-time, which seemed unfair to the young man. That and the teacher had kept calling him 'boy', which everyone knew was a sore point with him.


He ran another lap and then felt the telltale pain of reaching his limit. But he kept pushing forward. He could still feel Fang trying to convince him to go after the teacher, he thought of Fang as a twin brother, he had always known Fang, but Fang had had no power until Dream absorbed that pipsqueak. Then he had added that Razor to Fang's small power. On one hand he had defeated a high level Darkness on his own at age eleven, which pointed to great power, but on the other hand, he had given power to his own darkness. Not everyone knew his special circumstances, just knew that he had been admitted at a young age. He hadn't begun official teaching until this year, he had been deemed too young to start, although he had had informal teaching from several Chasers and teachers.


"Fang shut up!" Dream pushed himself further, until finally, after reaching lap thirty-six of his second count he collapsed, gasping for breath, his legs cramping agonizingly, his stomach heaving, making him thankful he had not eaten yet. He nearly passed out from the combination of lack of air and the dry heaving. After a few minutes his breathing slowed, the heaving stopped, and his legs were no longer cramping. He stood, shaking from the residual tremors that rattled his teeth, and started towards the combat training yard, where he would use one of the wooden swords to practice his footwork, which always needed work according to his instructors.

[Fritz Jacobs]

Outside the cold wind nipped, snow flying wildly around the grounds. Fritz had been outside for a good hour, enjoying the pleasantries of the winter's cold chill, but had been forced to retreat to the comforts of the warm gym. Unlike most people, Fritz enjoyed winter and the cold weather it offered. As expected, winter brought its' chills, leaving a path of cold, but fun memories in its' wake. Despite the cold outside, winter always seemed happy, which in turn made Fritz feel rather happy. However, today's cold was nasty and bite at everyone who dared to enter the cold. This has made Fritz enter the gym for training, rather than take part in the outside training fields. Taking a deep breath, Fritz began the usually small parries and thrusts on the air before him, all with his sword, Oblivion. The instructors always pestered him to use wooden swords, even when just slashing at the air in front of him, but Fritz never once listened. The only time he touched the smooth wooden handles of the school's training swords was to practice on dummies and for the typical sparring. However, at the moment Fritz was going through the classic footwork that John had taught him and drilled him on during his lessons.

Parry, slash to the left, draw back, thrust. Fritz thought as he went through the usual movements he preferred practicing. The first move, his parry, consisted of him drawing Oblivion's point up to allow the nonexistent opponent's sword or weapon to come down upon the sword's thicker center. Never block a blow with the cutting edge of your sword, you will nick, or gouge the edges and make the blade break faster. Remember that. The words of Fritz's mentor always rang in his mind when practicing, mostly because the practices had been his joy. Throughout his teen years, learning the sword had been a joyful and fun experience never to be forgotten. As expected, the leftwards slash consisted of a quick recovery from parrying and slashing in a horizontal motion to the left. Quickly, Fritz drew back, from where the other sword would have presumably slashed. In one fluent movement, Fritz lunged forward, sword extended far, but arm still loosened in order to draw back and parry what would be a next attack.

There was one tiny issue though, an hour of parrying with no break made Fritz grow a bit tired. Of course, unlike the person running, Fritz wasn't huffing and puffing, but rather the repetitive moves made his mind grow a bit tired of practice. Fritz drew Oblivion back from his extended position, sheathing the sword in the black leather scabbard that ran around his waist. Fritz had worked hard to get Oblivion, and he refused to give the sword any disrespect whatsoever. A faint smile appeared on his face, Fritz being rather pleased with how well his practicing went considering he had mostly done this out of boredom. Fritz's hand plunged into the pocket of his sweat pants, retrieving his phone from the pocket. Fritz turned the machine on, finding that he still had plenty of time to practice yet. The small amount of luck had nearly made the man smile, but all he could think about was the tennis ball machine that the instructors often used to practice his force field ability.

Fritz's green eyes glanced across the gym at the one of the tennis machines in the corner that was often used to practice his force field reflexes. Unfortunately he couldn't practice such without someone's help. All he could do was release an annoyed sigh due to the fact he couldn't exercise his ability. With that in mind, Fritz drew Oblivion once more and went back to work on practicing the typical steps, repeating the previous ones, all up until hearing footsteps. Fritz glanced sideways, seeing a boy draw close to the combat training yard. It had caused Fritz to hesitate for a second, which made him drew back and uttered a curse under his breath. Don't get distracted! You have to practice! His thoughts hissed. A nearly inaudible groan rose from his throat, he would have to start fro the beginning due to his hesitance. Fritz knew one thing, that no swordsman should hesitate unless there was a good reason for such. With that, the man went back to his routine, mimicking the previous steps he had preformed before.

[ Sorry, he ain't much of a talker, but if you want Fritz to initiate a conversation I can probably think of something. ]

[Dream Wolf]

Dream entered the training area and immediately noticed Fritz. Dream knew something about man, he had heard rumors and seen him practicing having tennis balls shot at him once. The young man was however, slightly afraid of Fritz, he had seen him brush people off, in a way that wasn't quite rude, but could have been nicer, but it was the rumors he had heard that made the fear possible. Rumors that Fritz had no tolerance for Darkness, that he wanted to wipe it all out, which wasn't altogether different from any other Chaser, and in fact was Dream's own goal, but it was the fear that Fritz would try to remove his darkness by killing him, that made Dream nervous. Fang had played on his fears, so every time Dream saw Fritz, he kept his distance. But Fang was annoying Dream a lot, despite the many laps, and just as Fang knew Dream's thoughts, Dream knew Fang's, and Fang was even more afraid of Fritz than Dream was, because if Dream died, so too did Fang, and Fang was very afraid of death, because he was in part darkness, and no one knew what happened to darkness when it died.

Dream began walking towards Fritz, he was too tired to be afraid really, but his steps still faltered when he came to be within ear shot.

"E...Excuse me? Mr.-Mr. Jacobs, sir? If you would like I could load and use the tennis machines, I do it everyday anyway to help the others practice cutting moving objects. And...and if you would like I also know how to work metal so I could make you a practice sword that feels just like real one, only it wont cut." The offer was made and internally both Dream and Fang cringed, expecting a sharp word at the least. But even as he waited for an answer Dream noticed the energy he was pulling from the area change as he got closer to Fritz. All humans had a pattern to their energy, it flowed a certain way, like water, unless it was mixed with certain things it never got any thicker or thinner, yet the energy coming off Fritz moved more like mud than water, thick mud too. And the feel of the energy, which differed based on age and experience, didn't match the apparent age of the man before him. Everyone was different though, so Dream figured it was something about Fritz's powers that made him different, some powers did that, the only time Dream had come near to the Chaser called Abner, Dream had been unsure of the gender of the other person, which was usually very obvious to him, as women had a cooler energy than men, which wasn't really an accurate way to say it, but it was the best way Dream could, because it was hard to put such feelings into words. It was like a shape shifter trying to explain the way certain things smelled while in the form of an animal, the human language, none of them really, could fully articulate the thoughts and feelings.

He'll kill us both you idiot! What if he figures it out? The rumors say he can sense darkness, if you get close to him he'll sniff me out kill us both, and the teachers wont do anything because they want us dead anyway. I swear if there is an after life and I go where you go, I will haunt you for the rest of your miserable existence! You pathetic WEASEL! Get us away from here! I will take control of your voice again, I swear I will, and I'll make you say things to that girl you've been crushing on, horrible dirty things that will make her and everyone else hate you! I will I swear it!

"SHUT UP FANG!" Dream clapped his hands over his mouth, eyes going wide. "I'm sorry I...I...I..."

[Fritz Jacobs]

At once, Fritz ignored everything around him, focusing on his sword training. Focus, serious and a few other traits could describe the man's face as he went through the same rhythm of moves he had done for the previous hour. As expected, Fritz had no clue about the rumors that hovered around his name. The particularly cold way he dismissed others around him, and his constant hunt for solitary would make most feel uncomfortable around him. As for his tolerance for Darkness, that was a completely different story. Originally, Fritz had no plan to be a Chaser, no plans to protect people or even spend his days combating a creature that played with fears. However immortality changed everything, now Fritz saw no point in getting close with others and decided it was best to use his eternal life to protect people as a guardians of sorts. Ignoring the footsteps that drew closer with each second, Fritz continued the smooth movements.

He shortly got to the last section of his small practice, which was the thrust, but before he had the chance to stretch out into said position, a voice entered the air. Fritz halted, his blade pointed straight to his right. The apprentice Chaser drew his blade back from its' position, his green eyes locking onto the boy who had just entered the training area. The slight essence of fear dripped from the boys voice as he offered some unneeded help. Is this kid scared of me? If so, perhaps he is trying to face his fear in order for combat... Fritz thought, slightly concerned over the matter. Sympathy was the last reason for Fritz's concerned, in fact the apprentice Chaser was more concerned about the idea of having to work with someone who feared him. As Fritz listened, he became slightly unimpressed, mostly due to his like of independence.

"I'm fine, and as far as my practice with those machine, I use it to train my shielding reflexes." Fritz said, giving more of a cold shoulder towards the boy who had decided to come and try and help. It hadn't taken much for Fritz to refrain from snapping at the boy who had disturbed his fluent movements, mostly because he wanted to avoid future conflict. Fritz had taken a small pause before answered the question about making a sword. "The wooden sword are fine really, I just prefer practicing with my own. This sword is in a way my partner in combat." Once he had finished his small statement, Fritz was about to begin on his parry once more, until hearing the kid yell for someone to shut up. Fang? Who the heck is that? There were no fear in the words, which had caused Fritz to immediately presume that this Fang was another person entirely.

Fritz scanned the gym, looking for another person, but found no one other than the boy who had confronted him. At that moment, Fritz realized the wide-eyed expression on the kid's face as he began to try and wrangle his words together for an apology. The blue haired man released an annoyed sigh, the last thing he had expected to deal with was a stuttering kid who feared him. "Why are you apologizing? It's not like I'm going to beat you for yelling those words." Fritz said, trying his best to leave his voice neutral rather than making him sound annoyed. However, there was still the slightest hint of annoyance that entered his words. Fritz paused for a second, trying to think of what his best approach was to make sure the kid didn't end up crying or running off. He already knows me, I might as well ask for his name. With the next step in mind, Fritz decided to begin a clever plan to make sure he left the gym without anything bad happening.

"Okay, listen kid. First off, you can call me Fritz if you please, but in all honesty I couldn't care less about what you call me. Fritz began, trying his best to make the conversation a little less strange. "Second, there is no one else in the gym, so yelling for someone who isn't here to be quiet is useless." Of course, Fritz had no clue that the person who was referred to as Fang was the same boy standing in front of him. Fritz shortly moved on to his last point. "Third, since you know who I am, how about you tell me your name." His last point had become more of a command than a question, but Fritz was curious to know who this person was. A few other students may have managed to catch his name here and there, but someone who had actually approached and regarded someone by their last name was rather strange to Fritz. What added on to that, was the fact that the kid had almost acted like it was his duty to help him. Patiently, Fritz waited for the kid to respond to his words.

[Dream Wolf]

"I..I...my name is Dream Wolf, Si-I mean Fritz. And Fang...Fang is hard to explain...He, he is kinda like a second personality. The teachers call him a psychological remnant, he is all that remains of someone I met as a child, like a ghost, only he isn't very nice, and sometimes he can make me say things, and he was threatening to and he's been really bad about it today, so I lost my temper and it usually doesn't happen but but but, please I heard you were a really good swordsman and I need help with my footwork so I was hoping I could help you in exchange for help with my swordsmanship." The rambling speech left the boy almost as breathless as the laps did, and he really hadn't meant to ask for help, but it had spilled out, partly it was just an excuse that he made up on the spot, but also, on a deeper level he was hoping for someone to help him. Most of the teachers were actually afraid to teach him, and the rest considered him a failure at combat, despite his natural talent for it, simply because he had trouble with the for complex, reflex based techniques. No one ever took the time to show him how to do it right, they just criticized him for doing it wrong.

'Idiot, now he will think you're a wimp, and you sound like a cray person, talking about voices in your head. At best, he'll walk away and ignore you from now on. And if he's one of the ones who knows about you, he might kill you, there is no one here to protect you, even if anyone wanted to.' Fang was terrified, but Dream clenched his teeth and looked at Fritz, no tears from his fear, which was actually Fang's fear, but with just one body between them they shared many things. He had a fire in his eyes, a will to succeed, and a desire to prove he was more than just the Boy with Darkness inside him.

"I will do what ever you say, no matter how crazy, or how hard. I want to do it right, but no one wants to show me how to do it, they just get mad at me for doing it wrong."

[Fritz Jacobs]

Fritz kept a tight grip on Oblivion's handle, letting the tip of the sword point to the floor. The man saw no need in sheathing the sword since once this conversation was done, he would return to his typical practice. There was some consideration when it came to practice, like changing up the moves to combat his fake opponent. Fritz listened, hearing the strange explanation about who Fang was all the way to the idea of training the boy, who went by the name Dream. He even managed to catch the breathlessness that slowly made its' way into Dream's voice as he finished talking. The very idea of someone having a second personality was a strange concept. Surprisingly, Fritz wasn't all that disturbed by the idea. Everyone was useful in this war, or at least that was Fritz's personal opinion on the matter. In all truth, Fritz would've loved to pass his skills on, but immortality reminded him constantly. It was almost like a time paradox of sorts, while everything else grew old and faded, he remained strong with no chance of fading entirely.

Coldness and need for solitary, those were fine points to define Fritz, and he was just about to show those points first hand. Fritz's gaze was on Dream entirely, looking at the utter determination in his eyes. He fears me, yet he asks for training. Despite the look in the kid's eyes, Fritz mood hadn't changed, but before he could coldly disregard Dream, he spoke again. As expected, Fritz listened to the words said, and simply sighed in annoyance once more. Hearing the idea of instructors getting mad at someone for doing something wrong just made two possibilities clear. That Dream had done something to make them mad, or they were trying to ship out new Chasers faster than they could be taught. Fritz hesitated, thinking over what he could possibly do given the current situation. I could just leave, let the instructors continue their ridiculous training, or I can help, making it so there is another Chaser on the field. But why bother? Why get close to someone? Fritz thought for a second, but that was when something rang clear.

If they lacked Chasers, then there was always a chance they may just use those who had yet to finish their training. Fritz held back a curse of annoyance that was mostly meant for his sub-conscience. Fritz hefted Oblivion, pulling the sword back a little ways to return the blade to its' sheath."I guess I'll give you a few pointers, but this doesn't mean we're friends. Got it?" Fritz answered, with the tiniest bit of annoyance dripping from his words. Once again, Fritz took another glance around the gym, the last thing the apprentice Chaser wanted was another person begging for lessons. "Also, you don't owe me anything," Fritz added. He didn't like the idea of Dream trying to pay him back for his assistance. That was when a strange thought came to mind, how would John feel knowing that his skills would be passed on once again? His entrepreneur friend had always had a passion for the sword, and had even taught Fritz well.

Fritz had a momentary pause over the small flood of a memories, but eventually his attention turned back to the present. "Okay, show me what you know, then I'll help you from there." Fritz stated, backing up to create some room. The man crossed his arms, waiting for Dream to start showing his knowledge.

[Dream Wolf]

Dream was shocked for a moment, he had expected a resounding no, or maybe a quick suggestion to find someone who was actually paid to be a teacher. He recovered quickly though, and with a swinging motion of his right hand he pulled the steel band of metal that was his belt out of it's loops, with a nudge of his power he stiffened the metal into a sword that was not quite as long as a long sword, but a little longer than say a broad sword, it was also wider than a long sword, but not as much as a standard broadsword, it was unique in size and shape, perfectly balanced for the young man who wielded it.

Dream started with a standard series of parries and thrusts, his foot work was firm but not well balanced, tending towards putting his weight more on his front foot than his rear, and it showed as he moved to more complex movements. His sword movements were almost perfect, but his balance was off, and if someone were to force him to step backwards it would knock him over, tripping him over his own feet. Dream actually began to smile as he moved, he loved nothing more than moving, except maybe working the forge, but that wasn't the same. Dream swept up and around with his blade, striking at imaginary enemies, but towards the end as he began a movement his instructors called 'Spiral Dragon' he tripped over his right foot, which was supporting the majority of his weight, but for the movement he needed his weight evenly distributed between his feet, so that he could twist to avoid a slash from the left, while delivering a fatal blow with a 45 degree angle slash from his right. Dream landed on his sword, but he instinctively made the metal liquefy to avoid injury.

"That happens every time, no matter how far apart or close I put my feet." he stood with steaming liquid steel dripping off his shirt and into his hands. He gave the metal a mental flick and it pooled together and reformed into a flexible metal band, which he picked up and began twisting one end back into a round handle.

[Fritz Jacobs]

There was always time for someone who was immortal. Being unable to age gave Fritz all the time in the world, meaning that he would use this unlimited time to save someone, even if it was just teaching footwork. Whether his Chaser possibility was true or false, it seemed that this training was something that Dream needed. Someone with bad footwork would never be capable of fighting skilled opponents, especially on a battlefield that used the fears of a warrior against them. In his arm crossed position, Fritz watched Dream, but hadn't noticed the quick flicker of surprise that had appeared on the boy's face. Silently, Fritz watched as Dream created a metal sword from a band of metal. Watching the sword itself take shape from the band was rather interesting. Once the formation was completed, the sword's full appearance resembled a mixture of both a broadsword and long sword combined. Despite the strange oddity that was Dream's sword, Fritz didn't dare protest the idea.

This was mainly due to the fact that this strange concoction of a sword looked both comfortable and balanced in Dream's hands. Telling him to change it would be similar to shoving a rapier into Fritz's hands and telling him to fight with it. The starting moves were mostly a combination of parries and thrusts that had a look of perfection to them. However, to an adept swordsman, they were too unbalanced due to the unnecessary amount of weight being focused on the right foot. Fritz's eyes had easily scanned Dream's position, and had managed to note the rather fatal flaw. Without even weight distribution he would fall in a matter of seconds against a smart swordsman with a keen eye. Fritz thought as he watched the rest of the movements. There was no point in stopping Dream, mainly because there could still be more error yet to come. Quickly, Fritz spared a glance up at Dream's face, noting a smile upon the boy's face.

A happy smile that almost reminded Fritz of when he began his training with John. The training had taken a lot of effort, partially because John didn't have all the time in the world to train him. In the end, it had all worked out and Fritz had become a formidable swordsman. From his position, Fritz watched as Dream fell, and on what would've been his sword if it hadn't liquefied. Fritz listened as Dream stated that it consistently happened despite where his feet was placed. "The problem isn't where your feet are, it's your weight distribution. Placing all that weight on one foot won't help you, it must be even distributed." Fritz explained immediately after Dream's words. Fritz's green eyes watched as Dream stood, noting the steaming metal on his shirt that soon disappeared. Fritz hesitated before doing anything else, mostly wondering if Dream wanted a demonstration. "If you want, I can repeat some of the moves you used. That's if you need a demonstration. If not, try again." Fritz offered, the slightest amount of coldness in his words.

[Dream Wolf]

Dream shook his head. "If I don't do it myself, I won't get it. Now that I know what was missing, it should be easy. I can't believe I was so stupid. If balance is important for the weapon, why would it be different for user?" Mentally the boy was slapping himself.

Dream shook out his sword arm, loosening the muscles. He practiced the weight distribution without swinging his blade first, finding a comfortable balance to his weight before risking moving his whole body. It was difficult because for years he had focused only on balancing with his upper body, by moving the weight in his legs, he effectively changed the whole way his body was balanced. He finally found a good way to balance everything so he wouldn't fall when he moved, it wasn't perfect, but he was so used to his feet not being important except for getting him from one stance to the next, that he didn't feel completely comfortable the way he was, but he knew it would be better as he practiced.

He began the movements slowly, going through it one step at a time, instantly feeling the difference in the way the whole thing felt. He finished the movements, then began again, going faster, he repeated the steps again three more times, going faster each time, until his blade was moving so fast it looked like he had six right arms, and six swords, he finished with a perfect double cross followed by a snake-like thrust, that made his blade flex like a serpent, which would have gotten him around a moderately skilled swordsman's own forward thrust.

Breathing evenly, not even slightly fatigued by the blurring speed he had used. He had tapped the speed of the Razor within him.

"Incredible." He sound subdued, and honestly he was. He looked to Fritz with awe in his eyes. Although he himself did not know it yet, Dream was now Fritz's biggest fan, he saw the immortal as a Hero.

[Fritz Jacobs]

There was correctness in what Dream had said prior, for balance had been something that John had constantly fussed over. When Fritz had first began his lessons, he had thought not a thing about properly balancing. The start had always been the exhilarating idea of knights in armor with classic medieval swords at their sides. After proper teachings, Fritz soon learned that, although fun, swordsmanship was something rather difficult to without a good teacher. Anyone could simply tell someone to swing a sword around in hopes of good results, but parrying, thrusting and slashing properly with the correct footwork took time. Fritz's green eyes watched as Dream began readjusting his movements, adding balance into the recipe. It started slow, but it didn't take long until Fritz was watching a blurring speed of movements.

Eventually the speed became unnatural, the kind of unnatural Fritz didn't quite expect. Ghost-like images of sorts marked where the blade once was, before they disappeared and ended up in another location as though magic was in work. The speeds soon ceased, the moves ending in a thrust that could've easily wound its' way around a moderate swordsman's. Why not teach someone with such skilled abilities? Fritz thought for a second, wondering if perhaps he had made a mistake in assisting the boy. Fritz hesitated before speaking. "Good, now you should be able to impress your instructors." Fritz stated, figuring that like some teens, Dream may just want to show off his new skills. However, little did Fritz knew that the small amount of help would make him seem a hero. After the small amount of assistance, Fritz had no clue what he wished to do with the rest of his time.

Practicing moves for hours had long grown tiring, and even the slightest bit boring to the immortal. Fritz's left hand hovered over the pommel of his sword, with debate on whether or not he wished to continue with sword practices.

[Dream Wolf]

Dream looked at Fritz, awe marking his features. Only one person ever complimented him, and that was Porky, the blacksmith who had taught Dream everything he knew about working metal. Dream grinned.

"Instructor Matthews will be really sore about that, he hates me because of the Razor I ...."Dream cut himself off, his eyes going wide. He make a split second decision. "I can absorb energy from the things around, and I've absorbed two Darkness creatures, one was a Razor." He kept his stance ready, just in case he had to flee. Not everyone took the information well.

'you've killed us both.' For once Fang had little to say. The second personality was resigned to death at this point.

[Fritz Jacobs]

There was a grin that fell across the kid's face, which would make most smile back in reply. Smiling was a natural response, for sometimes it roped in with pride, but Fritz was different. The same seriousness remained apparent on his face, along with the guarded look remained in his green eyes. The curse of immortality had long devoured his talkative and friendly attitude, leaving a cold and serious one in its' wake. That was when Dream began a further explanation, which brought all the pieces together. For the second time during their talk, Dream's eyes went wide in response to his own explanation. Fritz shrugged, "then he is a coward." After a brief pause, Fritz continued. "You have potential. Besides, if you do get out of hand, someone would do something about it." Fritz said, putting a small emphasis on do.

Fritz was never a big fan of cowardice, since he was a lionhearted fighter. Bravery was something that was carried everywhere, and had been inside Fritz before Oblivion had come to his side. "Anyways, I recommend finding a braver mentor. Someone with such cowardice would do no good for you. Especially those who fear Darkness," Fritz stated. The statement was rather obvious, but Fritz had felt a need to say such. With his previous theories about the terrible training out the window, the only answer left was the instructor's own fear that blinded him. A high pitched whistle filled the gym, making Fritz's head turn towards the window. Swirling snow was still present outside, meaning that the snow had yet to cease. The high pitched whistle also proclaimed the idea of the outside being cold, and overall unpleasant.

Fritz released an inaudible sigh. Eventually he would have to return to return home, since he had decided to buy an apartment rather than own a dorm. Fritz was a grown man after all, even if he didn't look the part. "Looks like it will be a cold walk home," Fritz groaned. His voice contained a slight hint of regret, since Fritz could've very easily drove to the gym. However, at the time the weather had looked a lot brighter, and for someone who enjoyed cold, suitable.

[Dream Wolf]

Dream was stunned that Fritz was fine with his Darkness, most people reacted with fear. But the suggestion to find another teacher was a good one. He listened to the whistle. and pulled a length of wire from his pocket, with a flick he sent it to the door, where it clung to the edge of the frame where the wind was coming in. The wire zipped back through the air into Dream's hand.

"Fifteen degrees Fahrenheit, moisture level about seventy percent. Wind speed approximately forty miles per hour, judging by the bend to the wire." Dream recited it robotically as he used his power to assess the metal wire. He could tell a lot about the weather by the way it affected certain metals. Winter was harder, because the cold made the air dry, but, he could make corrections mentally.

"You may want to wait another half hour or so, the storm is almost over. The report this morning said it would die down before nightfall. Thank you for your help Fritz, I greatly appreciate it, and if you ever need help with metal, please, go to the blacksmith's forge in town and ask for me." Dream reached out with his senses and checked Oblivion over for weaknesses. He not only found none, but determined the work to be one done by a true master of the forge, the metal was extremely high quality, better than anything Dream could make at this point.

[Fritz Jacobs]

[ That awkward moment when you live in Canada and measure things in Celsius... xD No worries though, I transferred over it to the temperature unit that I'm used to. ]

The idea of a dark minded counterpart would most likely leave most with a foreboding feeling. Fritz had slight concern over the matter of a separate personality existing in the same mind as Dream. Concern didn't dare touch his face, for sometimes showing emotion was weakness. From what Fritz had gathered so far from the interactions was that apparently he had stirred some fear in those around him. Enough to spur an abundance of rumors, which only further added to the fear that was placed upon him. Fritz thought the very idea absurd. After the mention of coldness that the outside air would provide once the immortal decided to walk home, a metal wire made its' way to the door. Tracing each movement of the wire, Fritz watched as it trailed back towards its' controller, zipping through the air and back to the hand of Dream. Like a sudden mind control spell, the boy began to state the outside temperature, which was impressive.

"Thanks for the suggestion," Fritz answered. As of help with metals, there wasn't much help needed. Oblivion had seen little battle in its' years, and a majority of the time Oblivion was in use, it was for sparing. Well-made, meant to long-serve its' master were two things that could describe the broadsword Fritz kept by his side. Despite the lack of battle time, Fritz wasn't going to pass up the offer of metal assistance. If Oblivion were to get damaged beyond repair, having the opportunity to salvage or remake the blade entirely was appealing. From what Fritz had witnessed as of this metal weaving spectacle had proven that Dream was skilled in the ability. "Thank-you, again." Fritz said, thanking Dream for the second time. The pleasant thought of having someone to assist in metal works helped to ease any worries of Oblivion being damaged.

Although the idea of growing close relations with anyone was still hated. Immortality had taken quite the toll on Fritz's social life. Where the ability had popped up from was unknown, since little was known about the abilities on his birth mother's side. The verdict had been that his sudden immortality had appeared due to someone on his birth mother's side, but due to lack of interaction with them, there was no solid answer. What if she was the reason I've been cursed with such a thing? Fritz thought for a second, remembering the photos of Angela. "You might as well keep practicing. If we're stuck in here for now, there is no point in wasting time." Fritz stated. He already knew it was best to get off the topic of his parents, and best to add a distraction of sorts. The memories has long grown sad in a way, and unearthing them would only cause sadness and discomfort.

[Dream Wolf]

Dream looked at Fritz. "Makes sense." He formed his sword once again and began going through a separate set of movements from the first one, again he started slow and made his way up in speed as he became more and more comfortable with the balance.

'Ok so he isn't bent on destroying us. He could still be dangerous, I mean he is a chaser. It's not like he will put up with you forever. For now it's just because he's trapped her with us.' Fang made what he felt was a valid point, but Dream ignored it while he practiced. he had found his balance and rhythm and he knew that if he didn't focus it would all come crashing down on him.