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--Donation Bonus Day (page 1 of 4)--
Still, Garovel did seem a little too good at it, sometimes. It had not escaped Hector’s attention how many of their “alliances” were the result of Garovel’s plans or old connections. It was enough to make Hector wonder if Garovel had some kind of greater motive that he hadn’t told him about yet.

Just one more thing to ask about, Hector figured.

He tried to focus.

The truth was, a part of him had been dreading this, dreading what the result of Rasalased’s “tempering” might actually be. After the first few failed attempts at trying to use his ability, Hector had, perhaps, not been allowing himself as much time as he should’ve in order to continue trying. It was hard not worrying that his ability was gone for good, that his iron would not be returning--and the longer that thought remained there, the more disheartening it became.

But there was nothing for it now. He didn’t have an excuse to put it off, at the moment. No civilians in need of help or meetings to attend. Not down here.

So he steadied his breathing and searched his mind for that familiar feeling, the indescribable sensation that he’d always felt when summoning his iron. It was so strange. He’d never really been conscious of that feeling until now, when it was present but his metal was not.

It was so uncomfortable, so hollow. Another reason why he’d grown reluctant of these attempts. He didn’t like this emptiness.

But he had to ignore these feelings, he knew. He had to push onward. His power was there. It had to be.

Maybe he was going about this the wrong way. Maybe concentrating harder wasn’t the answer. Maybe he needed to meditate more deeply. Like how he’d done when he’d first met Rasalased. That time had certainly felt different, somehow.

Worth a shot, he supposed.