Student and Master

[Michael Vellas]

Redacted time between the establishment of the Garden and present

"It is no use, Karim. Trust me, I have tried." Michael said in a tense voice.

The Iranian Rod of Dominion was not perturbed by his superior, unlike most. "Not even a scratch? You have seen it done enough, Commander. I can go slower." 

"Enough. As I said, I have tried. Healing eludes me. My talents lie in other areas. I believe that is the way of this Power. Some things a man can do without thinking. Others, they can practice their whole lives and not master." 

Karim al'Shadis, Rod of Dominion, inclined his head, conceding the point. "Perhaps you are right. I only did as you asked. Something new each week." 

Michael let himself smile a little. Of all the students he had, Karim was the only one he actually trusted. He kept weekly training sessions with the man, allowing himself to explore the Power without pretense. Of course, he never revealed the depths of his ignorance even to Karim either. He was tasked with training and controlling an army of men with superhuman powers. It necessitated he be stronger and smarter than all of them. At least until there were enough men he could trust to be loyal. Michael knew that unless he earned the respect of his students, fear would run thin, but he needed that fear to last until that time came. No wonder Nikolai gave the job to without much protest. 

"Embrace the Power, Karim. Let us continue our sparring sessions. This time, I shall be attacking." 

The Rod of Dominion obliged, and Michael did the same. He spun simple webs of Air and Fire. "Now." 

At his word, the webs split into half a dozen snake-like prongs of fire that came at the Rod from all sides. Karim spun a web of Spirit thicker than any of Michael's own and spun the scythe-like web, slicing through each of Michael's attacks, causing a jolt of jarring rebuff each time. 

"Again," Michael commanded. Using less power seemed to dampen the recoil of having them cut. He spun more webs, some of pure air, some mixing in Spirit that acted like a spider's web that would reinforce the web of power, making it harder to cut. Karim dealt with the webs thrown at him, although his response was slower every time a new wave began. 

Soon, the man was exhausted and sweat rose from Michael's pores. "You're getting better," Michael said as Karim sucked in deep breaths. "Faster. However, you should focus on minimizing the power you use. Using a hammer to swat a fly wastes energy." 

"It is not so easy to judge when that hammer is between you and a face full of fire," the man replied. 


"That's why we practice. Why *I* practice. You know as well as I, we are not gods, and not all may wish to join the Custody peacefully." 

"You have said as much many times before, Commander. I know you and the Ascendancy are correct. Can a man not complain without a lecture?" Karim smiled. 

Michael grunted. "Very well. No more talk. This time, you attack me. Hold nothing back. Fight like you want to kill me." 

He could not help but smile as a barrage of webs rained down upon him. As he honed his skill and precision he felt at home in the midst of combat. A small part of him relished the day he came up against someone who was trying to kill him, whether it be a jealous Rod like Petrovic or a rogue man who had the power.

[Michael Vellas]

Redacted time between establishment of the Garden and present

Michael strode through the corridor of the training building in what he liked to think of as his formal clothing. It was not a standard uniform, but a long, dark coat with navy and silver embroidery that some poor bastard had tailored for him - technically on the orders of Nikolai Brandon, for how else was he suppose to explain the need to look impressive to a group of potentially deadly men that may some day be able to stop hearts with a wave of a hand? 

The few men that he passed shied away. Some gave a half salute, some inclined their heads or even bowed. They were unsure where he stood and Michael liked it that way. For now, all they needed to know was that it was his Garden. He pulled off his gloves as he approached one of the teaching rooms. It was re-enforced in some way he did not care to look to deeply into. Some metal that made it hard to put holes in the walls unless he was intent on doing so. Michael had indeed tested the limit of the metal, satisfied that it took almost his full strength and a nasty web of fire interwoven with earth to help bend the metal to force his way through the frame leaving a twisted hole in the structure. The new students that day had been both horrified and awed at the display. Michael had made sure it was done when Petrovic and Taichesky were present to teach - as he had all of the Rods do when they were not at the call of the Ascendancy. Perhaps he had gone overboard a little, but he had a reputation to maintain. 

As he entered the training room - Karim and Monsierre greeted the recruits on this day - the two Rods turned and inclined their heads while the room of a little over two dozen fresh faces stared in confusion. It was the Frenchman who put a fist to his heart in some kind of salute. "Commander, it is a pleasure to see you." 

Michael nodded absently, looking at the faces of each recruit. I am sure it is, Monsierre, since your friend Petrovic got himself killed it your heart must beat a little faster now there was proof that us Godlings are mortal, he thought venomously. While his rage had faded over time, he still did not like the man and the Garden was better off with Petrovic dead. 

"Commander?" one brave soul spoke up. An unassuming man in his middle years with a sneer. "We were told we were not drafted into the military! I don't have to take orders from -" Monsierre's fist met the man's stomach as he wrapped a shield around his ability to access the Power. Probably a lawyer, he thought for a moment before grimacing. That one is on me. 

"You will listen closely if you want to live," Monsierre growled at the man who was gasping for air. "This is Commander Michael Vellas, he is in command of the Garden - your training - on the orders of the Ascendancy himself. You are not in the army, but you answer to him." 

Michael was surprised to hear that from the man, but it was not going to help. "Thank you, Julian. Please release him." Monsierre did as was commanded and now Michael had the attention of the new recruits. Some seemed to recognize his name already, which made him somewhat uneasy. He did not intend to prop himself up as a target for the Atharim any more than he was. "We are not soldiers, however the Power is dangerous to both ourselves and others. Until you can safely control it, I expect you listen to every word that comes out of a Rod of Dominion's mouth." 

He spun several simple nets, lifting half a dozen men into the air. There were shouts of surprise, while others obviously saw his web and others still seemed to understand what was happening. "I will not let any of you die out of carelessness. Under my charge, you are my responsibility and I will not do the job of those who would kill people like us out of ignorance," some few seemed to understand that all to well. He let the men down gently releasing all but one web. A desk suddenly shot into the air and folded in on itself, melting as Michael added fire to the web until it was a ball of molten scrap. Who on earth decided to put a desk in a training room? 

"Without control, you could accidentally unleash this on your friends and family." He saw in a few eyes that something similar may have already happened. "I will allow no further tragedy in this Garden, your loved ones will be safe and you will learn how to fend for yourselves. Now, let us begin."