12 Ymiden 720
He emerged into a dream of a land with golden trees. It was his own dream. He was in the midst of a great forest where the gold leaves of the many trees around him had fallen into a blanket upon the earth. The leaves crunched and kicked up beneath his feet as he walked through the gold. It was beautiful but it was not what he'd laid down to dream for. He was here to train, not enjoy the view. Balthazar kicked some leaves into the wind as he followed the 'path' before him. It was hardly a path at all in reality- Balthazar was simply following the most trampled of the golden leaves to their inevitable destination.
A temple. At least it seemed to be a temple. It was a large, square building with multiple levels that stretched up into the sky endlessly. Each level was divided with a sort of tiled roof. If Balthazar had known the word 'pagoda' he would have recognized that the temple before him was one such sort of building. After taking a trill or two to admire the spattering of gold across the pagoda from the tree leaves, Balthazar advanced towards the sliding door that opened into the structure in the middle of the forest.
The lucid dreamer stepped into the large and ornate temple with walls seemingly made of thin paper and wood. Every time he turned, Balthazar was certain he saw figures shifting behind the walls. Were they watching him? No... no but someone was. At the center of the dojo, in the middle of the wooden floor, stood a fully mutated Balthazar. With cracks of ether spider-webbing up his arms and down his cheeks, the mirror image of the mage wore one thing that Balthazar did not- a blindfold. Balthazar understood the significance. His final mutation in Rupturing had taken his eyes from him. It made them more useful during the night but during the trial it was little more than an impediment. The blindfold he wore, he'd gotten from Doran. It was strong enough to withstand an average blade and kept Balthazar from hurting his eyes.
The replica turned to face Balthazar and despite the blindfold it seemed like he was looking right into the mage's soul. "Choose your weapon." The blind swordsman said in Balthazar's voice with a gesture towards a rack of training swords on the wall. Balthazar moved towards the rack slowly, tracking the swordsman with his eyes to make sure there were no surprise attacks. Balthazar never felt entirely safe in his own lucid dreams. He knew better than to trust himself not to strike while his back was turned. "Quickly now, coward."
"You are a construct of my mind. You are not real. None of this is real." Balthazar pointed out with a stern tone.
"Then why are you afraid? Come. Fight me." The blind swordsman's voice was calm but he spoke with a tone of authority. The swordsman put his hand on the hilt of his sword but he did not draw it. He simply held it there, waiting for Balthazar to grab a weapon and advance. He wanted combat? So be it. Balthazar grabbed a long but thin sword (training katanna) from the rack and moved towards the middle of the room.
