Maine's eyes light up a little at the thought of sparring with Carolina. Not because he's eager to get his ass kicked, but because she's right: they're on even footing. They can help each other out.

(And because he'll never turn down a chance to spar with Carolina, in any form.)

In Maine's experience, the best way to improve isn't by throwing himself at an impossibly high wall. It's by adding more weight to his reps as he can handle it—literally or metaphorically. And frustrating as it may be, he can't leap straight into the deep end without first learning how to swim.

"Heard about magic weapons," he says. "Soul thing."

Yes, that's about the extent of what he gleaned from it. Something about trust and souls, vessels and wielders.