1812 Necessary

In the depths of a meditation chamber within the Martial Union sat a man.

Rui Quarrier Kandria had isolated himself from everybody and everyone.

He had isolated himself from the world.

Isolated, he did but one thing.

He dedicated himself to but a single task.

A single act.

He honed himself.

He honed his being.

He honed his mind.

He gathered his attention, sharpening it to a point. 

His mind converged in all but a single direction.

He refined his thought, ridding it of impurities.

Ridding it of all superfluous thoughts

His faction. The challenge of finding the Divine Doctor. The timeline of his father's prolonged lifespan.

In time, he had filtered these away from his mind. It, usually flooded with waves of thoughts, had grown almost silent.

Only a few things were allowed to remain.

Battle.

The Gatekeeper.

And, of course, victory.

Nothing else was allowed to remain.