This also contains explicit scenes of sex, and is for adults only.
PHOERU
By Limewah
A fan-work based on settings and characters depicted in
The Legend of Zelda : Tears of the Kingdom
Art by HYPERLINK "https://twitter.com/Chibi_Chaser"; \r\n\t\t\t\t\t
| \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t | \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tChibi\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t | \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
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3.
You grip to the thin, rough sheet, feeling the grass beneath it. You try to will your thighs not to squeeze inwards, even though that coarse fur would feel wonderful against your smooth flesh.
Phoeru's tongue explores you, wet and slick and rough against your soft chest and your hard nipple. You arch your neck and gasp as his tongue meets your throat. You hope he might press his teeth against it. Or even travel further up to your lips.
A cooling trail of saliva still remains on your chest and stomach. It doesn't glisten half as much as Phoeru, though. His hair undulates in the air, floating and gleaming with hypnotic magic. His third eye is open; he's given you permission to gaze at it up close at last. What a strange, fascinating pupil... a horizontal line, with a little circle above and below it. Normally, the rest of the eye is a gradient yellow, darkening out to red at the edges.
But not when he's hypnotising you.
At this moment, it strobes, swirls, and flickers constantly, changing from green, to blue, to red, to green again.
You stare into the beacon as it bathes your face. You fall into its colour. You fall into the white-and-green-and red swirls of his soft hair as they, too, expand outwards
His loud, hungry licks mingle with the sound of night-birds and insects. With one last long drag that leaves you so desperately on the edge, he lifts his head and his other eyes reopen.
His lower eyes are intense. His jaw is parted and he's panting.
He doesn't smile. But then, he doesn't tend to smile when he's like this. So deeply overwhelmed with his desire to have you.
You weakly smile at him, your lips coaxed into a grin by the sense-pleasure of his influence in your mind.
He reaches out for you and pulls your head to his snout.
You taste the tang of your body on his tongue. You share yourself with him.
When his shaft drapes against your body, the kiss ends, and your eyes are guided to it.
``You may look at it,'' he orders, his voice like dark honey, as the corners of his snout curl up, and your heart soars.
His member is almost as thick and long as your arm, flared at the tip, throbbing with thick veins. You roll your hips against him and your soft inner-thighs finally straddle his waist. He grinds himself against you, and you moan with that characteristic loudness that he must have come to love.
You know this because he hasn't told you to stop it.
There are other habits of yours that he's made you give up. Picking at your nails or whistling through your teeth for example. Each time it happened, he would pull your gaze towards him and his spell would wash over you as he told you what uncomely habits they were.
The more he told you that those habits disgusted you, the more you came to believe it. When you whistled, a feeling of shame and disgust that felt strange and alien would wash through your body. While it was disturbing for a while, it trained you to divest yourself of those things.
You don't whistle, you hum, and he allows you to - in fact, he requests it now and again when he wishes to be entertained or lulled to sleep. You now always clean your hands properly, and soften them with the oil you would rub over Phoeru's fur.
You're glad that those habits are gone. They are making you a better servant to him. And a better lover.
-
It has taken some time, but you now have a home together. It's technically Phoeru's place. But you share the roof.
It is built atop a hill, carved out of stone, three floors high. The ground floor has his workshop and laboratory, as well as the kitchen where you prepare his evening meals. A staircase leads up to the next floor - a space for leisure, to lounge.
Up in the top is his observatory, where his bed lies, allowing him to view the sky, his old home, every night. You often join him there, his arm draped around you to press into his savoury-scented chest. The deep, bellows-like rise and fall of his chest lulls you so easily, even before his paw presses into the back of your head and leads you down between his legs.
Directly beneath the hill is a meeting hall. Shining white stone makes it possible to see it for miles around. The main hall is long and rectangular, with a sloped roof that makes every step inside, every sound, echo and reverberate.
It's nowhere near as large as the castle that you can see being constructed far in the distance, towards the centre of Hyrule. But this hall is a landmark of his own, since it's perched in the middle of the Great Plateau. Even being up here feels strange and surreal; but seemingly nothing was impossible for Phoeru.
Other Hylians have been brought to his aid. Hylian men and women from all sorts of other tribes, all close to your age. Usually they would just be travellers you'd meet on the road or curious members of other tribes. His hair and eyes would gleam, he would weave his mesmerising web, and they would be pressed into enthusiastic service.
Other races have joined the union, too... it is strange, but pleasant, to see these other tribes up close, in cordial, less tense circumstances. After all, you all have the same goals - the same allegiance.
Every third morning, his flock all gather in the hall, and stand in perfect file before him. It is one of the few times you see his full power unleashed. The secret stone above his eye gleams so brightly you could imagine seeing it for miles. The spirals and waves that emit from his hands, his hair, his eyes, wash over and bathe each and every one of you.
It's an endless climax for you. Each new pulse, like a heartbeat, makes you quiver and drool and groan.
By now, you associate being put under his spell with intense pleasure. Mostly due to what tends to follow after you submit.
Phoeru's voice reverberates all the way up to the slanted roof as he gives a sermon that you never seem to remember, but never have trouble following to the letter.
He always allows you to be up front, right in the centre, receiving the full caress of his hypnosis.
It makes you feel like it is only you and him.
He gives commands to the others, their duties for the coming days, and sends them away.
With you and him alone, he eases his sash aside, slides down his trousers, and your body relents to his.
You don't talk to the lesser slaves much - though you feel the vinegar burn of jealousy whenever they gaze into him and submit to his commands.
You know you're still his special favourite, even though he hasn't told you as such in a while. You know it's true. It has to be. You're almost always with him. And he has you serve him in more intimate, more important and meaningful ways.
He always takes you when the whim strikes it - he does not ask. His hand grasps your hip idly as he writes a missive to Rauru. He turns his head from the scroll as he dips his quill in the dark Octorok dye, and his tongue pushes into your mouth. You moan as he wants you to, and he hums contentedly.
Sometimes he will idly wave his hand in front of your gaze and the colours will swirl. He will tell you to feel pleasure, and it makes your spine bend like a pulled bow as your extremities twist and twitch. The pleasure electrifies and exhausts you, and it leaves you hanging off every word that follows. He's already turned his attention back to his task, leaving you delirious and huffing in a daze, trying to keep your shaking legs from giving way under you. There's the barest smirk on his face.
Your legs ache whenever you go to bed; you are rarely allowed any repose. Not that you would ask for it. You know what you do is important, and don't plan on complaining.
One evening, with the sound of hammered wood and shifting boulders filling the air, he beckons you closer.
``Sit,'' he says. But you don't see any seats nearby, and before you can inquire, he snaps his fingers and his hair ripples.
You know where to sit.
You clamber over his thigh and sit into his lap. There's a familiar firmness under your rump.
``I will teach you to read and write.'' His breath makes you quiver as his hand grabs your wrist and guides you towards the quill.
His scent bathes you, and the rise and fall of his chest mingles with the pulse and press of his member.
He doesn't penetrate you immediately - not until you have learned the basics of the alphabet. When you've done it to his satisfaction, his command to feel pleasure makes your body melt and loosen, allowing him to lift you and spear you on his shaft, deeper than it's gone so far. He stands and pushes you over the table, relishing in the power he has over you.
You relish it too.
Exquisite pain and pleasure makes you paint the desk and ruin your work.
-
Dear Queen Sonia,
How are you all? I am fine. Phoeru has been very good to me. He has taught me how to read and write Hylian script. I have re-written this letter several times to make sure it looks perfect. I have made many mistakes, and it takes a long time for me to learn. Phoeru is very patient with me.
His observatory is very big now. Phoeru says it is not ready for visitors yet. We have many other Hylians helping us, so it will not be much longer.
He is taking very good care of me.
How is Lurelin? I must visit again, once I am able. But Phoeru has a lot of work for me.
I hope you will visit us soon as well. We would love to have you.
Yours,
-
You sign your name slowly and gingerly, trying not to add this piece of parchment to the pile of crumpled ones at the edge of the desk.
Your hand is unsteady thanks to Phoeru's paw between your legs, and his shaft between the underside of your thighs.
But the swirling strands of hair in front of your vision counteract that, and make it easier to focus.
``You have followed my dictations perfectly,'' he says. The barest hint of a prideful smile in his voice.
The praise electrifies you, and you soak his paw with your fluids.
As you roll up the paper at his command, he puts his paw against your face. Your scent and texture fills your nostrils.
``Do you understand how delicious you are?'' He asks you, his voice a low shudder. His lips kiss the back of your head, and his tongue joins them a moment later. ``Do you understand what a beautiful specimen you are? And how lucky we are to have each other?''
``Yes Sir...!'' You've never heard him say something so direct, so loving-!
``Good. Your body relents to mine, and you cum.''
The memory of the letter you have written - and the one from Phoeru to his kin that he dictated to you, too - exits your body with your seed.
``I have seen how you've looked at my lesser slaves,'' he says, as he hands you one of the discarded parchments to blot yourself clean. ``You seem jealous.''
You're ashamed to admit that, yes, you are, but once you start, the confession keeps pouring out of you. You tell him that you've been there from the start, and that you thought he had eyes for no one but you, but seeing how he touched that slim Zora, he-
His fingers slip into your mouth.
``Be quiet.'' it's a paternal, strangely soothing command. You suckle on his fingers.
He pushed his fingers into your mouth. The slight tang of his flesh bloomed on your throat, and his claw tickled your face. The eye on his forehead opened, allowing you to gaze into its orange depths. You knew, as you stared into his gorgeous eyes, in the middle of the whirlpool of hypnotic hair, that he had not even shown you his true power. And you hoped he would, one day.
But you knew, then, that you had to earn that right. That you would have to obey him to the best of your ability.
And look at you now.
-
Phoeru sometimes bids you leave his side. It could be to survey and explore, or to assist with foraging... sometimes he simply tells you to find a spot with a vista and use it as inspiration to compose some praise-filled prose for him. You have to continue your practice, after all.
But it's happened more and more frequently, to the point that almost every day you would have to leave his presence, for hours at a time. The distance and the time away made you ache. Thoughts of that one Zora - the blue-scaled creature with a suspiciously similar body shape to yours - kept rolling around in your head and bringing jealousy to a boil.
So one day, you decide you would linger and investigate.
``I look forward to your next little piece,'' he says to you, as he hooks his thumb under your chin and brings your lips to his for a possessive kiss. The taste of his tongue mingles with the taste of his shaft - your jaw still hurts a little, but it's a pleasant ache.
You try to compare it to the hundreds upon hundreds of kisses you've shared, the many times he's taken your mouth, all the ways he's touched you. It doesn't feel any different.
And yet...
You feel like something is missing, like there's something you're overlooking. But there's no coldness apparent - no more coldness than usual...
You leave pretending to have your usual sense of purpose, hiding your feelings from him - as much as it pains you to do so. But once you exit his now 3-story workshop and manor, you veer off the beaten path, towards a blind spot under a tree that you know he can't see.
After a half hour or so, you see a slight figure walking up the path from the wooden-walled camp below, where the lesser slaves live. You squint and peer, pretending to still be writing - expecting to see that Zora making their way up.
It's not them. It's another Hylian, one of the Hateno types, you reckon. Judging from the farmer's tan, and the remnants of their old clothing woven into the scant, midriff-baring slip you, and all the lesser slaves wear.
They look completely unbothered, like they've walked this path so many times before. Your throat clenches and snarls, and you want to go right up to them and interrogate them. Who do they think they are, do they think they can just try and replace you, the special thing you have with your love, your master-
No. You try to push the jealousy down.
Besides... you have ways of checking.
You fondle the little capsule inside your pocket, gazing at the construct hidden behind the almost opaque sea-glass. A hover-stone would be able to help you get up there, that lighter-than-air platform allowing you a much better vantage point.
You walk slowly towards the white-stoned house, heading under the window where you know Phoeru?s desk sits. You wish you had better hearing, so you could tell what was happening over the rustle of the trees and the intermittent birdsong.
You hear murmurs. Neither Phoeru or the slave are lowering their voices, but they're still too far away to hear.
You want to hear their conversation, but you can hardly scale the smooth surface.
Then you hear the telltale chime and hum. You hear a short gasp, then a soft groan... then a much louder moan of pleasure.
You feel tears already welling in your eyes, but you resist the urge to scream with anger.
You hurry away from the house - you need to be able to see. You smash the capsule open, and the platform materialises. You break open another four capsules, each one producing a fan. You lash them to the stone. You rush to lash them all together. Somehow, you know you'll have more than enough time. You know this isn't going to be a quick fling.
That knowledge only makes it hurt more.
The stone and fans are activated and you hop aboard. You bounce on the balls of your feet as it slowly lifts higher, and higher. You stop the fans, but the stone remains aloft and perfectly positioned. The telescope you stole from Phoeru's study will allow you to see inside from a distance, minimising the chance of him seeing you.
You hate having to spy on him like this. But you don't know any other recourse.
You peer through the scope. He's not at the window, at least not at first. You fear that you've missed your moment. But you can see, back at the entrance, the other Hylian is staggering away.
You missed the chance to catch him in the act.
When you go back to the window, you can see him now. His hair is re-knitted, but he is totally naked.
What is he doing...? What is he thinking about?
You watch him for a time. Until your vision is blocked again, this time by a Rito fluttering between you and Rauru.
Purple-plumaged, similarly clad to the other lesser slaves. They dip in through the window, and Phoeru turns to face them. He makes a gesture that you can't quite see. The bird turns to face the desk, and bends forward with supplication.
Phoeru is stroking his shaft already as he approaches.
...There's more than one.
The sight makes you dizzy, your insides lurching and your head pulsating with an angry migraine.
You're angry at... him? No, the Rito. No, the Zora. No, the Hylian, or any of the others who've seduced him...
No... yourself.
You weren't doing things right. You weren't good enough for him. That has to be it. He wasn't satisfied with you because you weren't satisfying him.
You sniffle and clench your teeth, feeling as though you might fall right through the stone.
You realise, shortly later, that that lurching feeling isn't just an imaginary one.
The battery for the stone beeps and whimpers. The stone ceases to glow, and float, and does as all heavy things do.
Your fingers barely make any purchase on the stone at all as you plummet.
No, no, no, no, no-
If you die like this, he'll find you like this, he'll know you were spying, that you betrayed your trust in him, and you won't be able to fix things with him, and he'll hate you forever -
You clench your eyes shut and brace, and hope for a quick death, when you're grasped by the nape of the neck and pulled. The next thing you know, you're floating once again, rocked back and forth in the air..
You're braced in place by two other Hylians - one broad shouldered with rather intense eyebrows, and another one with tanner skin, and long dark hair.
You faintly realise that the second one is from your old village as he hugs you.
``Oh it's been so long! We got all your letters!''
Oh... yes, you had written to them, hadn't you. You're still dazed from the adrenaline rush.
``Good thing we were stopping by, eh? What were you doing up there?''
``Give them a moment.''
Your gaze snaps up to the slender figure towering over you. The tall-eared Zonai looks over her shoulder at you.
Its'... Mineru, right?
It feels strange seeing her again - it's been so long since you saw another Zonai.
``It is a valid question, though. What were you doing up there?'' she asks you as she returns her attention to the sky ahead, guiding it to descend towards the ground outside Phoeru's home.
What will he think if he sees you with her?
You don't see anyone at the window, from the distance you're at. Did he see them coming?
Did he see you...?
``I was out on my own,'' you say. ``Phoeru thinks it's important for me to take some space for myself, so I can write and study.''
``You're lookin' a li'l thin there,'' your former village-mate says. ``Is he feedin' you good?''
``Yes, he's taking great care of me,'' you say. Though you don't know if you sound all that convincing - are you even convinced yourself?
He has been making sure you eat, and has kept you exercising. You're in excellent shape. Though, now that your old village-mate mentions it, maybe you have been slipping a little. Maybe that's why Phoeru's been seduced.
The flying machine alights in front of Phoeru's house - your stomach continues to drop with dread.
``Why are you here?'' you blurt out suddenly. Mineru looks at you with a little surprise.
``I'm here to check in with Phoeru, and show him some new constructs I've made for him at his request.''
When had he done that? He has you write all his letters, you know that much, but... of course, you never remember the contents.
She knocks at the large, thick door, ornately painted with the Zonai's fractal symbols.
You almost want to sneak away, afraid for Phoeru to see you - he'll see your guild right away.
But, thankfully, it's the Rito who answers the door.
``Mineru,'' he says, crossing a wing over his chest and bowing slightly. ``Please, come in, he's waiting for you.''
His eyes meet yours, and his eyes narrow with suspicion. You turn your head away with shame.
``Thank you,'' Mineru says as she steps through the threshold - the Hylians with her have been at work unloading packages from the back of the flying contraption.
``Hey, think you could give us a hand with these?''
That'll take your mind off things.
It's easier work with three pairs of hands for each of those crates, the glass orbs rattling inside them precariously.
You don't hear the conversation between the Zonai - it all happens on the higher floor, in his study. All you do is bring the materials into his laboratory on the ground floor, next to the kitchen where you prepare all his meals.
The other Hylian whistles. ``Not quite as fancy as the castle, but dang, this place is like a temple!''
``Yes,'' you say, keeping your voice down so as not to let Phoeru know you're still here.
``Where do you sleep? I didn't see houses or anything, just a bunch of tents...''
``I sleep here.''
``Oh? Do you get your own room?''
``Yes.''
It's sort of true. You do have your own bed technically, Phoeru usually bids you to sleep with him, so he can growl into your ear and steal your warmth and savour your body.
``That's slick... we're still sharing rooms, even in the castle!''
``What's it like over there?'' you ask.
``It's... how do I even explain - oh yeah! When it's completed, Chieftain Sonia's going to get married to Rauru! She's going to be a queen!''
...married.
The house was completed months ago.
Married.
You've never thought to ask him.
Married.
Was he going to propose to you? ...Should you?
You hear Phoeru call your name, and it's like a bomb flower was detonated just behind your ear.
``I have to -'' you half-stammer, almost dropping the crate you've been carrying and nearly taking out the older hylian's back. ``Sorry-''
You rush upstairs to the second floor. Mineru is looking out the window, giving some respectful distance. The Rito is looking at you - is he smiling? It's hard to tell with that beak.
``Yes?'' you say sheepishly. ``How can I help you, sir?''
``I thought you were going to be much further afield today. Why were you using a hover stone so close by?''
...You can't lie to him. You don't want him to force it out of you. He wouldn't want to do that.
``I was worried that you were spending time with the... lesser slaves. That I wasn't the only one you were lying with, and I'm sorry for being so nosey, but I don't feel like I'm special to you-''
``You are special to me.''
His tone is strangely firm, like he's offended by the idea of what you've just said.
``And it hurts me to know that you do not trust me.''
You ball your fists up and stay stock still as he approaches you. Looming over you. You feel ashamed, and a little scared, almost afraid he'll raise a hand against you, though that's never happened before.
You flinch as he reaches out for you to cup your chin. You clench your eyes shut.
You hear the chime, you know what's waiting for you when you open your eyes.
``Why won't you look at me?'' Phoeru asks you. That stern tone is still there.
``I... don't deserve it,'' you blurt out.
``Why would you not?''
``Because I hurt you...''
``Perhaps that was not the best choice of words. You cannot hurt me. Allow yourself to look at me.''
You open one eye. The green and red and white guides the other one open. His fingers splay and dance and leave those trails of colour in the air before you. As always, you don't know which one to follow, and you eventually give up and sigh, and let your head rest in his other palm.
``Poor, sweet thing,'' he says, his expression only showing the barest hint of pity. ``You have an inflated idea of your power over me. You understand that I am the one who has the hold over you, yes?''
``Yes, Sir,'' you moan, the world smearing as your eyes can barely stay open.
``A hold far deeper and more meaningful than anyone else. You have always been the first, and always will be. I knew from the moment I saw you, that very first day, that you would be mine. You are by far the most beautiful thing on this lower plane. If you were a Zonai, perhaps, we might be wed.''
Married...
``But that is not the way of things. This... is as close as we can be, but it is more than enough for you and I. Do you agree?''
``Yes, Sir.''
``Good.'' you see his smile through the swirling smear of hypnotic colour, before his snout cuts through it and meets your lips.
How could you ever feel any sadness or anger when you can taste him? As your tongues dance and he pushes into you, your legs barely able to stay upright.
He pulls away.
``None of the lesser slaves receive the gift of my lips. I promise you this.''
You smile weakly, nodding through the heavy fog of bliss, wondering if that lesser bird is feeling that same jealousy you were moments ago.
Let them feel it.
He strokes your face, and you lean into his palm.
``Could we lie together?'' the request just slips from your throat.
``In a little while, sweet thing. But I know, even if we do, the jealousy will not leave you. I have a gift to alleviate that.''
He looks back over his shoulder at Mineru, and you feel the fog clear.
``Are the visors included in the shipment?''
``Yes, Phoeru,'' Mineru does not turn. Her voice sounds clipped. Distant.
``Good. Let us go downstairs.''
You walk with shaky legs back downstairs to the workshop. The Hylians are idling, taking a break after getting the rest of the supplies in.
``You may leave,'' Phoeru says, without dignifying them with eye contact.
He removes one of the orbs from inside a box, and cracks it open.
A rounded green-stone ring rolls out of it onto the floor, a little larger and thicker than the circumference of your head. It's carved to look like the top of a head, with three gleaming Zonaite eyes, and a severe brow.
``And this has been fully tested?'' Phoeru asks Mineru, who has followed behind you.
``Yes, Phoeru.'' Her eyes look distant, glassy... familiar.
``Put this on,'' he says to you. ``I would like you to be the first to try it.''
You note the Rito's followed, and - yes, he does look jealous.
You lift the visor off the floor. It's not as heavy as it looks, but too difficult to lift with just one hand.
``This might be heavy for me,'' you say, sheepishly. ``Won't it hurt my neck-''
``Your body relents to mine.''
That mantra, and a flash of colour, makes you forget those complaints - though part of you, this time, feels a little perturbed.
Mineru is watching you, but she doesn't look concerned in the slightest. There?s something strange about her posture. Stiffer than usual. Like her machines move, with perfectly segmented precision.
You can put the clues together. It?s nice to know she?s on your side. Though you hope she knows you?re still Phoeru?s favourite.
You place the visor over your head, and all you see is darkness. It emits that characteristic chime, and all of a sudden, the darkness is filled with wisps of green. A whirlpool of shapes and strands, swirling around before your vision.
It reminds you of him. And it gives you that same sensation of being pulled into their depths, of losing yourself. Your arms go limp and you sink to your knees, hearing a groan of pleasure escape your lips.
You only faintly hear what happens next. Voices. Footsteps. Flutter of wings. The Rito's moans.
You don't mind them. The shapes and colours are more than enough for your mind to focus on.
When the helmet is removed, night has fallen.
He stands over you, his thumb tracing along your lips and wiping away the saliva that's long collected on your chin.
``It's time to start preparing dinner,'' he says. ``Did you have a good rest?''
``Yes Sir,'' you slur, your mouth feeling like it is made of mud.
He smiles down at you and pulls you up to your feet. He kisses you, like he means it, like he loves you, and you forget -
What do you forget?
You don't mind, it was not important.
Phoeru no longer sends you out on errands when he has a lesser slave over. He has you put on the helmet, and you kneel and stare quietly as he satisfies his needs with them.
You hear their groans and gasps, their professions of love, but there?s no opportunity for you to feel jealousy. Just bliss.
And everything he's done, and who he?s done it to, vanishes from your memory when the visor goes dark, and you go to sleep.
-
You still have moments of private strife, now and again. The way those who are deeply in love do. You want him to touch you more often. You find yourself craving the early days of passion, remembering those days by the easily flowing river. You want him to break you apart and rebuild you piece by piece. His eyes, his hands, his lips, his hair, his feet, his shaft... all of him drives you wild.
Especially now that you're locked up.
The Zonaite cage and chains wrapped tightly around keeps you from touching yourself. This chastity motivates and focuses you.
You were far too used to receiving pleasure. It was making you complacent, flabby. Your hand keeps unconsciously going between your legs and brushing up against the cage, reminding you of that habit of yours. One more thing that Phoeru, your love, is helping you break.
It's for your benefit.
Phoeru is more affectionate with you while the locks are in place. His hands touch you the way they used to, grasping and massaging your supple parts. His snout and tongue explore your body, sampling your delights, the things that attracted him to you in the first place. You remain still and complacent as he does so, not making a sound. Your desire to kiss him, to press back into him, is kept at bay.
It almost feels like he's torturing you with affection.
But you know it's all out of love.
He is just motivating you. And the end goal does focus you as he guides your hands, teaches you good technique.
``When your training is concluded,'' he reassures you, ``it will be removed.''
The visor has been refined. It's far lighter, for one thing. A less-opaque piece rests in front of your eyes, so you can see through it. The colours are there, but subtle, like a reassuring hand on your back to keep you calm. So you wear it all the time, now.
Stabbing the training dummy is not too different from spearing fish. You did it most of your life before you met him. And now you can put it to use.