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No, none of that.

Max said with a chuckle. Light hearted as ever, he even raised his right hand brushed it away again. He could do all of that stuff, in different ways but enough. He was apparently big on the brushing for some reason. He wasnt looking directly at Cris, but rather the frozen scenery from this high perch, he was pointed forward, but it was still quite the view. In his friends confusion, Maximos continued.

Sight is more or less and inward thing. You take the world outside you, in. Light, spirits, energies, the eyes are usually a one way doorway.

He brushed that away too, adding on...

Everyone knows that.

And then he turned, facing Cris. His right hand touched his own eye, mirroring where Cris' red eye was.

But you...

He tapped the spot beneath his eye.

Your special. Your eye can project. It uses the door both ways. Despite the monsters or curses which brought that ability about, it is now your ability. Unique to you. You'd have it even if you didnt have them.

He paused, cocking his head a bit to the side, a realization reached him. He had to probe it.

Didnt you know it?

Sure...he had to, right?

"To be honest, I didn't know much about anything when I first found out about this ability of mine."

He chuckled. Not mockingly, never that. But it was one of those sympathetic laughs that very quietly said, "I know what you mean." Though Max himself did not say much of anything, he would hear Reinhart out first.

His eyes followed Cris' one eye, and then the other. It was odd, and yet impressive. He wondered if that was what people saw when they looked at him.

He wanted to answer that he could infact see inside Reinhart's soul. He saw darkness and light. He saw hatred, a dash of love, he saw pain, and more than any mans fair share of regret, and it all encrusted around a heart of gold. Cris was a hero of the first class, even if he'd never see it. It was an honor to call him friend.

But while the Shadow was reminded of this, he said nothing. He felt the question was rhetorical. When he was done, Max answered.

I see you.

Good? Bad? Light? Dark? Monster? Human? Max had long since come to see people as who they were as a package, not the pieces. It was something his soul sight had taught him.

He looked down at his hands.

I see the warning, the shield put up...not to defend them. But to defend you, from them.

He smirked, then lifted his head to meet Reinhart.

I see time, magic, life, death, and many of the things in between but...

He gestured outwards, to them, to they, to the great haunting nobodies. The peoples of this world.

...its useless if I cant make them see it too. If they dont understand what things words fail to describe.

By Nocturne, the man sounded almost heroic. A tone not heard on Maximos in quite some time. He gestured to himself.

I have monsters, demons, and darkness is my past, but...

His hand fell down beside the other.

...you and I, we can show the world more than just fear, more than darkness. So...

His smirk grew to a full on trademark Maximos smile.

Will you teach me?

Stained glass.

He thought it, even if he didnt say it. He smiled.

Reinhart continued, Maximos smiled and nodded slowly. It was a slow affirmation of everything Cris said. Everything. The world was in chaos, and those without powers seemed to miss it. They were blind.

Maybe it was because people like Reinhart and Max could change the world, that they could see it. But either way, eyes needed to be opened, and wide.

It was a scary concept, but sometimes fear is a good thing. Ultimately, the choice on how to proceed was up to Cris. It was his gift, his curse, to share with the world, or more immediately with Maximos.

But when the man extended his hand, Maximos' face lit up, without skipping a beat, his hand moved out and met his friends in a good strong grip. It was the type of grip arrangements like thsi should be based.

Max to show Cris what to see, in himself, in others. Cris to show Max how to share it. Perfect!

Deal.

And so it would begin.

Maximos crossed his arms and tapped his chin. Deep thought smattered across his face, where to begin? That certainly was a quandary wasnt it?

Well supposed the best way to understand what Reinhart was doing was to see it in action. But no normal sight would cut it, Maximos would have to employ his various other sights to present a proper and full picture. From there he could insight and instruct his friend, his partner, his teacher, on how to display or project other things.

I think I'll have to see it, in action, up close.

He stood up, brushing a few snowflakes off his sleeves, and turning to face Cris head on. He brought his right hand up over his right eye, and closed his left, before a faint glow could be seen through.

This is going to hurt...

He pulled his right hand down, as if clawing at an invisible curtain, streaks of white followed his fingers. The glow in his eye faded to a faint barely visible glimmer of white. It lasted until Max's hand was free of his face, at which point the eye burst into ignition, it was as if a torch was burning in the eye socket, as white gushed forward trailing out to the side. Magic Sight, to see how the energies swirled from the environment through Reinhart and even across to Maximos. Time Sight, to slow the moment, gathering each detail, to record the scene so he could play it over and over, and to see what marks lingered in the past that could possibly have triggered this ability. Things that may need to be repeated. And finally Soul Sight, no one truly knows the mysteries of the soul, Max could see the spirits swirling in Reinhart and see how much of a roll they truly played.

It was an intense strain, the force of which actually seemed to shove his head back, making him slid a foot back to catch himself.

Alright Reinhart, I cant hold this for long, show me.

He visibly braced himself, waiting for the proverbial impact.

Maximos was ready.

His breath was heavy, as if somewhere in his mind he was running a marathon of sorts and was trying to keep up a pace. He was prepared for a proverbial impact, and then Reinharts hand slammed into his eye. He saw the colors. The mans aura, the lines of red that were drug froward by his hand, spilling around his fingers. He saw the energy that rushed along the bridge. And he saw it all in slow motion, then stop motion, like strobe lights were flashing, and finally, he saw it hit him. Of course that was two seconds before he was actually struck, as his eye rushed ahead of the time stream.

His head was knocked just a bit back before he caught, and just as quickly as he wondered why he had been struck, it didnt matter. The world was gone.

"You'll be the first I share this with, but it's the only way I know."

Maximos was silent. Not because he was upset, or even rude, or even because he was concentrating. It was because the moment that palm covered his vision, and those words met his ears all he could see was Reinhart. Truly Reinhart. Not flesh and blood, not clothes and hair. Not designer shades, not red and blue. He was blind to the physical. He saw swirling mass of energies, a soul, and lines that coursed up and down, to and from it feeding life and emotion into his every action. He followed them down the arm, and to his own eye. He saw the spiritual being that was his friend. And before he even know how to speak again, images struck him like a wave.

Maximos hands, and arms tensed, his legs locked, as if he was honestly being pushed back by the force of the rush crashing over him.

He saw nothing. He saw everything.

He saw the wounded child, and tried to reach, only to be stopped by a cry of agony, from the older Reinhart. He hadnt the chance to respond when the image vanished. He felt the blood, he saw it, he smelt it, he practically tasted it. He looked at the wounded Reinhart with a face that simply said, "I'm sorry, I want to, but I cant help." The man fell forward, Maximos arms reached and stopped as he tried to move for his friend only to find him fading into himself.

Such sorrow, such regret, such pity. He saw so much black and grey shrouding the image. Was Reinhart alone? Like Maximos lost in darkness, surrounded by monsters?

The emotion changed, a flush of red swirled over over the black like blush, billowing it away. There were women, the blush filled the Shadow's cheeks. Something told him these were private moments, he wanted to look away out of respect, but literally could not.

His vision began to get darker, as if someone was slowly dropping the brightness. He saw a myriad of creatures in an instant, his head nearly splitting as it tried to feel them all, just as clearly much as it saw them. In a split second he moved from sturdy, to unsure if he would survive the encounter. Fresh wounds were torn and healed in his mind, while outwardly he only barely managed to keep from falling over, from ducking or dodging the beasts that were not truly there.

His vision grew dimmer still.

Reinharts blade hurdled at him, and under the rush of beasts and monsters of legend, he welcomed it over there attacks. Only to have them stop a the behest of a pale woman in black. Her smile and her eyes entranced him for a moment, and the monsters did not matter.

"Now do you understand? It's mine or theirs remembered. Their worst nightmare shaped and inspired, their deepest darkest fears given a voice. Who can forget what scares them right?"



Maximos stumbled back, his feet just barely catching his weight before he fell forward yet again. His right hand smacking tightly against his right eye socket. He was gasped for air. All traces of glow where his right eye was were gone. And given a moment or two, black thick streams rolled down his face, and between his fingers.

Black blood tears.

I...see...

Maximos said, letting his hand fall. The eye squinted, it looked hollow, a very dark dull gray like the iron-sky just before snow falls. He tried his best to wipe away the black tears, though a bead still stained a line down the side of his nose. His head was throbbing like it had just played floor to a marching band.

I see...

He took a few more deep breaths before standing a bit more upright, his strength slowly returning. His posture straitened just a bit.

Fear...is powerful...you've felt it for very long...alone...against the cold unforgiving world...you were risen through pain...striving for the love you lost in the arms of many...in causes that gave solace...in conquering and saving...but...

A few more dry breaths.

...Always carrying that weight...

He stood tall, his hand touching his temple.

...But now...your never alone...they are within you...they are you...they can help you...as much as they love and hate you...

He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, and immediately plopped down on a rock.

I need to sit for a moment...

Maximos pushed off the rock, his labored breaths reduced to mere slow speech. His right hand rubbing a last streak of black from his right eye. The dim eye seemed to show some glimmer of light deep in it. But nothing noticeable in a blizzard. For all intents and purposes for the moment it was blind.

Max spoke the things he didnt need a magical eye to see.

But they...

He made a gesture with his hand, opening it to show he meant more than one "they", not memories but monsters.

...give you more than fear...

He rubbed his right temple a bit and continued.

...they give you anger, strength, pride, hope, joy, regret...as many emotions as there are ways to die.

He moved to point back at Cris' eye.

Did you think, have you tried...to project any of those?

"You're spot on. Yes, I do draw more than fear from them and while I can project everything else outside fear and madness, I've never tried."

Maximos grinned, he didnt move but he watched Cris. He watched the storm, and periodically his left eye blinked away invasive snowflakes. His clothes were becoming slowly frosted by all this stillness.

"It's like I said, it formed more like a defense mechanism than anything else. Whether it was fear inspired or madness induced, I've not tried projecting or passing on if you will anything else."

Max took a few steps forward, and placed his right hand on Cris' shoulder. He looked at the man, then the view, and then back at the man with that trademark Maximos smile.

Desperation is the mother of invention. You may have made it in panic, made it in fear, made it without thought but...

His hand patted Cris' shoulder before sliding off.

You made it. Now you should try using it.

"Now that's an idea... project something that helps rather than cripples the human soul or mind."

Isnt it?

Maximos said with a grin, taking a step back and making a hand motion toward himself.

Come on, give it a try. See if you cant give me something to fix this.

He said, tapping his right eye. Cris had an armada, who knew what he could pull out.

That was something fierce.

Maximos saw Reinhart set himself up, he saw him close his eyes and so the shadow did the same. This entire process was new to him, but everytime he saw it, felt it, experienced it, he learned it. And Max was nothing if not a quick learner. Still, he was far off.

He shut his eyes, and he waited.

His world was cold and black and blind.

But soon there was warmth. Something tugged and pulled and reached through the fried remains of his right eye. He felt it, but couldnt see it, it was as if his vision was buried beneath rubble that was being scored and scraped away as he was pulled to the surface.

He felt it, something, deep inside drug forward, rescued, saved.

"Call not the Reaper."

And then just as he was about to touch the light he was cut loose. It was a violent thing. It was something fierce. He took a step back, catching himself, his head flung back spilling a trail of black tears in its wake, his hand immediately smacking over his eyes, centering on the pain.

Reinhart...

Max said, in response to whatever it was. His hand slid away revealing a pale fluctuating glow in his right eye. White, then red, then white again, it was like the two colors rolled over each other wrestling for dominance before finally fading to a very pale white illumination.

Max smirked.

Your being rude....shouldnt you introduce me to your friend?