Kairen was failing.
He stood on the stone platform by the waterfall, the thundering roar a constant, chaotic backdrop to his repeated defeats. He had been at this for days, his body moving through the slow, fluid forms, his mind trying to hold the ’Inner Sanctum’ steady, and his will trying to draw the ’thread’ of Essence.
It was, as Vanamali had warned, like juggling fire.
Every attempt ended in disaster.
He would begin the form, his body moving in the slow, Tai Chi-like arc. He would sink his mind into his fortress, picturing the warm, safe walls of his childhood room. He would invite the Essence. The blue-white thread would erge...
And the instant the "Sorrow" echo attacked, his focus would splinter.
If he reinforced his ntal wall to block the crimson eyes, his physical form would stumble, breaking the flow. The thread would snap.
If he focused on the precision of his footwork, his ntal wall would flicker, and the "Sorrow’s" scream would breach his defenses, causing him to recoil. The thread would snap.
If he focused purely on the beautiful, delicate thread itself, both his body and his mind would be left undefended. The echo would overwhelm him, and the resulting backlash of cold, agonizing energy would send him to his knees, gasping, his arm numb and tingling violently.
"Agh!" He cried out in frustration, collapsing again as the thread snapped for what felt like the hundredth ti. He slamd his fist against the damp stone.
"I can’t do it!" he yelled at the thundering water, his voice raw. "I can’t be in three places at once! The mont I do one, the others fail!"
He panted, glaring at his trembling, empty hand. "It’s useless. They’re all out there... my mother, Dain, Ilya, Lia... they’re grieving, they’re in danger, and I’m stuck here, failing to even..."
He trailed off, his own words echoing in his head. Mom. Dain. Ilya. Lia.
He rembered Vanamali’s words from weeks ago. "Find your center. ditate on what makes you you. Your love for your mother. Your bond with your friends. Build your fortress from those truths."
He had built the fortress. But he wasn’t using the foundation. He was just hiding behind the walls.
My anchor.
He stood up slowly, his body aching, his mind exhausted. He closed his eyes, taking a deep, centering breath.
This ti, he didn’t just visualize his room. He filled his ’Inner Sanctum’ with the reason for its existence. He pictured his mother’s smile, the one reserved just for him. He felt the mory of Dain’s bone-crushing, loyal hug. He saw Ilya’s sharp, perceptive gaze, the one that saw right through him. He felt Lia’s quiet kindness, her gentle, unwavering belief.
These mories were his fortress. They were his anchor.
He began the form again. He moved his body. He anchored his mind in that deep, profound love.
Then, he invited the Essence.
The cool, blue-white thread flowed into his hand.
And the "Sorrow" echo attacked, screaming in his mind, the crimson eyes blazing.
But this ti, Kairen held. His mind, anchored in the unshakeable truth of his friends, did not waver. The echo was just a storm, and his love was the mountain. It raged, but it could not touch him.
His body, in turn, remained fluid, following the ntal stillness.
His focus, no longer splintered, held the Essence.
The thread... was stable.
He moved, breathing, his mind a fortress of calm, his body a river of motion, and the thread of starlight followed his hand, a continuous, shimring ribbon of pure, controlled power.
He held it. He moved through the entire form. One minute. Two. The thread did not waver. It did not snap. It simply was.
When he finally ca to a stop, his hand held open, the thread of light pulsed gently, obediently, before he willed it to dissolve. He was panting, sweat pouring from his brow, but he was grinning.
He had done it.
Vanamali stepped out from the mist, his ancient eyes bright with a deep, profound approval. "You have found your anchor, Kairen Zephyrwind. You have learned to be the stillness within the flow. You have finally forged the first true thread."
While Kairen found his anchor, Squad 7 was being told they were adrift.
"Pathetic!"
Instructor Vorlag’s voice was a gravelly roar that echoed across the muddy, obstacle-strewn training field. "This is not a squad! This is a collection of failures, each finding a new and exciting way to disgrace the uniform!"
He stord in front of the four of them. They were covered in mud, drenched in sweat, and utterly demoralized. The "Shield Wall" drill, now with Ilya, had been an even worse disaster than the first. Ilya’s reckless, independent attacks had repeatedly broken formation, leaving Kaelan exposed, which in turn made Lia flinch, breaking her concentration. Dain, caught between his duty to hold the line and his instinct to protect Lia and stop Ilya, had failed at both.
"Ragnor!" Vorlag barked, getting in Dain’s face. "Your leadership is non-existent! You can’t control your team! You are a shield, yes, but a shield with no one holding it is just a piece of tal waiting to be kicked aside!"
He rounded on Ilya, who glared back, her arms crossed, her breathing still heavy from her backlash. "Veyne! You are insubordinate, reckless, and a danger to your team! Your ’power’ is useless if it exposes your healer. You think you’re a lance? You’re just a broken arrow, firing in the wrong direction."
His gaze fell on Kaelan, who flinched. "Brightblade! Your hesitation is a cancer! You have the power, but you’re terrified to use it. A mage who is afraid of his own magic is a liability we cannot afford!"
Finally, he looked at Lia, who trembled under his gaze, clutching her staff. "And you, Healer! Your trauma is a weapon the enemy is using against us for free. Every ti you freeze, one of them dies. Kairen Zephyrwind sacrificed his life so you could live, and you are disrespecting that sacrifice every ti you choose to be a victim!"
The words were brutal, designed to cut, to break them down. Lia let out a choked sob.
"You have all failed," Vorlag growd. "And you will continue to fail until you stop being four individuals and start being one squad."
He pointed to the punishnt gauntlet, its mud pits and high walls looking even more nacing than before. "Your punishnt for today’s disgrace is to run that gauntlet. Not just until I’m tired. You will run it until you succeed."
He turned to a nearby instructor. "Activate the ’Stress Induction’ runes. Full-power."
The instructor paled. "Sir? For first-years? That includes sensory..."
"Do it!" Vorlag roared. "They want to face demons? They’ll learn what real stress feels like!"
A low hum filled the air. The gauntlet’s obstacles began to glow faintly.
"This is your new reality, Squad 7," Vorlag said, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "You will learn to work together, or you will break. Go."
The four of them looked at each other—Dain’s sha, Ilya’s fury, Kaelan’s guilt, Lia’s terror.
The punishnt began. It was hell. The gauntlet they had run before was just a warm-up. Now, as they climbed the slick wall, harmless (but deafeningly loud) explosive runes would detonate beside them.
BOOM!
"Ah!" Lia scread, losing her grip and sliding back into the mud pit.
"Damn it, Lia, co on!" Dain yelled, reaching for her.
"I can’t!" she sobbed, her hands over her ears.
"This is pointless," Ilya hissed, scaling the wall with her shadow-enhanced magic, only for Vorlag’s voice to boom: "Veyne! You use unauthorized magic, the entire squad starts over!"
Ilya froze, her expression murderous, and dropped back into the mud.
They tried again. They got to the crawling-nets, which now crackled with painful, stinging (but non-lethal) electrical shocks.
Kaelan, seeing the sparks, hesitated. "I... I can’t..."
"Move, Brightblade!" Dain yelled, pushing him from behind. Kaelan yelped as a shock hit him, scrambling forward in a panic.
It went on for hours. They failed. They restarted. They failed again. They were covered in mud, bruised, and trembling with exhaustion. Every individual weakness was relentlessly exploited.
Lia’s trauma made her freeze, which made Dain break formation to protect her. Ilya’s impatience made her break rules, which forced them to restart. Kaelan’s hesitation made them miss tid objectives.
Finally, at the base of the high wall for the tenth ti, Dain collapsed against the wooden beams. "I can’t... I can’t do this."
"He’s right," Ilya spat, wiping mud from her face. "This is impossible. She’s broken, he’s a coward, and you’re too busy playing bodyguard to lead."
"Shut up, Ilya!" Dain roared.
"Stop it!" Lia scread, her voice cracking with a sudden, desperate fury that stunned them all. "Just... stop! You’re right, Ilya! I am broken! I’m terrified! I see that... that claw every ti I close my eyes! And you," she looked at Kaelan, "you’re so afraid of your own power you’re useless! And you," she looked at Dain, "you’re so afraid of failing Kairen, you’re smothering us!"
She was sobbing, but her eyes were blazing. "Vorlag is right! Kairen... he died. He died so we could live. And we’re not even doing that! We’re just... waiting to fail."
Silence. Her words hung in the air, a raw, painful truth.
Kaelan was the first to move. He walked to the wall, his face pale but set. "She’s right." He looked at Dain. "Tell what to do, Lead. I’ll... I’ll do it. I won’t hesitate."
Dain stared at him, then at Lia’s fierce, tear-streaked face. He looked at Ilya, who was silent, her gaze fixed on Kaelan.
Dain took a deep breath, his sha replaced by Vorlag’s lesson. Discipline. A shield protects everyone.
"Okay," Dain said, his voice low, steady. "One more ti. As a team."
He looked at Ilya. "I need your speed. But I need you to wait for my call. My call. Can you do that?"
Ilya t his gaze, and after a long, tense mont, she gave a single, curt nod.
"Kaelan," Dain continued, "you’re with . When I call for a shield, you make one. No hesitation."
Kaelan nodded, his jaw tight.
"Lia," Dain said, his voice softening. "We’re right beside you. When the explosions go off, you focus on my shield. Nothing else. Just my shield. We will not let you fall."
She took a shaky breath, tears still on her cheeks, and nodded.
"Okay," Dain said. "Move out."
They moved. The turret fired. BOOM! Lia flinched, but she didn’t fall. Kaelan fired his ice-shield, instantly. Dain held the line. "Ilya, now!"
Ilya darted out, fired a controlled shadow-spike to hit the target, and darted back into formation.
They moved. They climbed. They crawled. They worked as one broken, dysfunctional, but united machine.
When they finally collapsed over the finish line, they lay in the mud, too tired to move, their limbs trembling.
Vorlag stared at them, his face unreadable. "Pathetic," he grunted. "Your ti was three tis the acceptable limit."
He turned to walk away, then stopped, looking back over his shoulder.
"But you finished. As a squad."
He gave a single, almost imperceptible nod. ’Be here at dawn. And don’t be late.’
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