Vincent blinked and sat up with a groan, clasping a hand to the side of his head. “Ugh, what happened?”

“You dropped your guard, son,” came the voice of Mr. B whom sat nearby. They were both in their human forms now. “Never underestimate your enemy, or the outcome from the delivery of your offensive moves. Always follow through, and never let up.”

While Vincent was still a newbie, there was untapped potential within the boy. Even during their little spar the kid had surprised him, but he wasn’t going to let Vincent know that.

Vincent nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Mr. B couldn’t help but lean back and laugh after seeing the seriousness upon Vincent’s face.

“Sir?”

“You also have to know when to let go, to have fun, and not take everything so serious.” Then again, Mr. B knew the reason for Vincent’s transformation was his seriousness, mixed with his raw and untapped potential. He had a feeling that this boy would turn out to be something special, but also had a sinking feeling that he’d have to be vigilant and stay on top of his progress or bad things could come of it.

“There was something else,” Vincent said, ponderous look on his face as if he was still feeling the effects of being knocked out. There was also that weird loss of energy. “I felt weak, like I couldn’t move.”

“Oh, that,” Mr. B said with a knowing tone. “Every time you change to a werewolf it drains your energy, your magical aura, which all supernatural beings have. With that drain comes consequences, like transforming back, becoming weak, or feinting without you willing it. Worse things can happen too.”

Mr. B didn’t want to think about those times, didn’t want Vincent or anyone else to know about them, but he couldn’t help thinking about them, visualizing the loss, the pain and the blood on his hands. No, he had to shake that off, couldn’t let it show because now that Vincent had mastered his Transformation at Will, he would not only be able to read body language better. He’d be able to sense things, to feel them, so Mr. B had to shape up, and quick, putting those dark times behind him.

“Worse things?” Vincent said, tilting his head with a questioned look.

Luckily for Mr. B, Vincent was still a newbie. The boy had no idea the raw power and potential he had backing him now. He wouldn’t be able to sense the little subtleties, the change in his demeanor, shift in his eyes, smell of fear, regret, and loss. He was in the clear for now, because he never wanted Vincent to know those things. And he prayed to Ginga that Vincent and Alacard never had to experience those things themselves. Even though they would go through many things, he never wanted that for them.

“Yes,” Mr. B said, a sad smile crossing his face. “Your Beast Mind will constantly fight for supremacy. It’s why I’m glad you mastered your Transformation at Will before the beast found you in your dream. If it had found you, then you would forever be susceptible to the Beast Mind taking over, leading you on random rampages, and you don’t want that. It’s hard enough to keep control, even with mastering the Transformation at Will as you did. Even so, it can still take control and lead to a berserk mode, and you definitely don’t want that. In your case, you had drained yourself, and if I hadn’t finished you with that blow, you would have passed out or worse, transformed into a raging monster that would lose the will to control its actions, just like the werewolves of nightmares that movies and stories present. And even if it does lead to a burst of strength, it eventually dissipates, which is where the idea of being stronger comes from. But it’s not totally correct.”

Vincent pulled his knees to his chest. “It’s just so much to know.”

“It’s okay, son,” Mr. B said with a soft smile. “Just keep in mind that you need to pace yourself and not overdo it or you will lose control to the Beast Mind, which is you but not you. A monster you don’t want to let unleash, even if it feels easy, nice, warm even. It won’t be, trust me.”

“You’ve experienced this?” Vincent asked, genuine curiosity in his eyes.

While Mr. B certainly wasn’t going to divulge details, he nodded. “Yes. But you won’t let that happen, son. Because you’ll put in the work. You’ll maintain control. You’ll be the master of your mind, body, and essence. And the more time you put in your werewolf form, the easier it will become to maintain that form. Once being in your werewolf form is like second nature, you can begin to learn other things.”

“Like what?” Vincent said, perking up.

Mr. B let out a little chuckle. “In time, son. For now,” he said, pushing himself to his feet and extending a hand to help Vincent up. “It’s time for you to get some rest because the challenges will only get harder from here on out.”

“Oh, so that was the easy part,” Vincent said with a little laugh.

After they laughed for a moment, Mr. B got serious. “All jokes aside, I want you to promise me to never push yourself past your limits. And you know your limits. If you don’t stick to your limits, you’ll lose out to the Beast Mind.”

Vincent nodded, holding his teacher’s eyes for a moment before turning and looking up at the sky, thinking of things to come, a soft breeze blowing against him.

“I understand, sir. I’ll do what I can to become stronger and masterful like you.”

“I certainly ain’t no master, son,” Mr. B said with a chuckle. “But I admire your enthusiasm. You’re gonna need it going forward.” He felt a sadness overcome him at this next thought. “Oh, and one more thing.”

Vincent turned to him.

“I need you to keep an eye on Alacard.” Vincent didn’t look pleased at this but had already agreed to this annoying and unwanted topic. “Alacard has many strengths, but I fear he will lose himself to his Beast Mind.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask, son,” Mr. B said, patting him on the back with a warm smile. “That’s all I ask.”

After Mr. B had gone, Vincent stayed behind, sitting under a tree, and taking in his surroundings. He listened to all the new sights and sounds, sensing everything through a new filter. It was bolder, sharper, more vibrant, even in his human form. He let it sink in, listening to the whistle of the wind, the movement of insects and animals in the grass, the creaks of the school building as the wind pushed against as if wanting to be let in, and the sound of cars that passed by. He took in the scent of the earth beneath the grass and the texture of it against his hands. He took in the smell of asphalt and tar, the smells of the trees and gasoline from cars. He leaned back in the grass, hands behind neck, closed his eyes, and let it all sink in, savoring the moment.

                                           .           .           .