Page 38 of Daemon Master

“That…that was…” He didn’t know how to finish the thought.Humbling? Liberating?He’d never felt so free, so at one with his aether.

Seymour chuckled and crossed his arms over his toned chest. “It’ssomethingall right. The Watcher Division taught us many advanced techniques for mastering our aether, but they all stem from recognizing one fundamental truth.”

“Which is?”

Seymour met his gaze with a stare so intense he had to struggle not to look away. “No matter how powerful you grow or how much aether you wield, it willalwaysbe but a drop in the bucket of what’s out there, waiting to be seized.”

With that, the watcher shoved off from the tree and walked away, leaving Adrian to ponder his words in silence.

Over the next week, Seymour taught him more from his time in the Watcher Division. How to focus your shroud on a specific part of your body to better shield it from daemonic techniques. How to practice your aetheric control via breathing exercises. How to fight alongside your daemon as a cohesive unit.

This last one presented an opportunity for Adrian to instruct Seymour as well. Despite all his battle training, Seymour had always treated his daemon like a wielded weapon. He’d never had to contend with that weapon talking back or refusing to follow orders.

Heartrender pulsed amusement through their bond one day while they sat watching Seymour argue with a stubborn Tremorfist. Finally, the watcher threw up his hands and stalked toward them. “I swear, that spirit-cursed daemon gets a kick out of pushing my buttons!”

Tremorfist huffed and deliberately turned away from Seymour, lumbering into the trees.

Seymour glared after the retreating daemon. “What’s the point of having an intelligent daemon if it won’t listen to a spirit-cursed word you say?”

“I thought you wanted a daemon that could think for itself?”

“Yeah, well, that wasbeforeI realized how spirit-cursed stubborn he’d be.”

Adrian quirked an eyebrow. “Has it occurred to you that he’s not the only one being stubborn?”

Seymour’s lips tightened. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe the reason Tremorfist won’t listen to your orders is because you’re still giving them asorders. Your old battle strategies might’ve worked great with a mindless daemon, but perhaps it’s time to develop some new tactics. Ones Tremorfist had a say in choosing.”

“What doyouknow about tactics?” Seymour snapped. “You and your daemon still spend half the time running around the battlefield like headless chickens.”

Heartrender tensed beside Adrian and let out a low growl. The impressions she sent flooding his mind dripped righteous indignation. He patted her soothingly. “What we lack in coordination we make up for in camaraderie. Speaking of, how’s your bond coming?”

Judging by the sour expression Seymour wore, Adrian had struck a nerve. “We’ll figure it out eventually. It can’t be that hard ifyoumanaged it.”

Adrian didn’t rise to the bait. “You know what I think? I think you hate giving up control. You keep such a tight grip on your bond that any time Tremorfist tries to take the reins, you force him back. It’s got to be a give and—”

“Ithink that’s enough of a break,” Seymour said, stalking off after Tremorfist.

Adrian watched the watcher leave while fighting down a smile. It felt good to not be the one struggling for once. After a moment’s deliberation, he retrieved Crastley’s journal from his satchel and flipped through the pages. Perhaps there was something here that could help Seymour master his bond. Turning to a promising section, he began to read.

Several nights later, he sat with Seymour, Heartrender, and Tremorfist around the fire. He waited until they’d finished their meal, then cleared his throat, eager to share his latest revelation.

Seymour eyed him warily. “What is it now?”

He flashed a half-grin at Seymour’s discomfort. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. I’ve been reading more of Crastley’s journal, hoping to find something to help with your…problem.”

Seymour’s body tensed, his expression turning defensive. “I have it under control.”

Tremorfist snorted in what might’ve been disagreement. Seymour shot the daemon a glare. Nestled beside Adrian, Heartrender pulsed with amusement.

“It doesn’t matter,” Adrian said. “I didn’t find anything, anyway, other than a vague observation that the true bond tends toward harmony.”

Seymour scowled. “Then, why even bring it up?”

“Well, while there was nothing on your…um…on how to better connect with one’s daemon, Ididstumble on Crastley’s speculations about melds. He thought there was more to melding than people realized, but that bondstones limited their potential.”

The watcher furrowed his brow. “Such as?”