After another stretch of quiet walking, they emerged into a clearing—an island of silence in the middle of the forest. No trees grew here, only soft grass swaying gently with the wind. The sunlight poured in unobstructed, casting warm, shifting patterns over the earth.
Leon stopped in the center and turned to face them. "Sit," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Towan and Elliot obeyed, lowering themselves into a meditative posture. The stillness of the clearing wrapped around them like a cocoon, muting even the sound of the wind.
Leon remained standing for a moment, his expression unreadable. "I'm going to teach you the basic form of my Essentia flow," he announced.
"Basic?" Elliot asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.
Leon smiled faintly. "Yes. It's not flashy or advanced—but it's stable. With time, you'll adapt it, shape it into something that fits you. But you need a foundation first. No house stands without one."
He stepped forward and knelt between them. "Now... focus. Clear your thoughts. Let everything else go."
Towan drew in a slow breath. Elliot closed his eyes.
"Remember this feeling," Leon said softly, as he placed one hand on each of their shoulders. "This... is how Essentia moves."
A subtle warmth bloomed from his palms. A silver glow—barely perceptible, like moonlight behind mist—spread from Leon's hands and into their bodies.
And then, they felt it.
At first, it was just a tingle—a ripple beneath the skin. But it grew.
Like a current awakened, Essentia surged through them, slow and steady. It wasn't chaotic or overwhelming. It was alive—vibrating through their core with quiet strength.
Towan's breath hitched. He could feel it spiraling through his chest, dividing into his arms and abdomen, then descending into his legs. It was as if his body had become a map—and the flow traced it line by line.
His mind, once buzzing with excitement and questions, went still.
Elliot's experience was different. Familiar. This wasn't the first time he'd felt it—not exactly. Back during the fight with the bandits, something inside him had ignited. But this… this was controlled. It moved with purpose, not panic.
"Remember this flow," Leon said again, quieter now, as if not to disturb the moment.
The brothers sat in complete stillness, awash in the sensation.
After a while, Leon exhaled and spoke again. "You're lucky, Elliot."
Elliot opened his eyes slowly. "Why's that?"
"Your channels are intact. Crude, but stable. The path you forced into existence that night... it's still there."
Elliot blinked. "So... we're not starting over?"
Leon shook his head. "No. We'll build on what you've made. It'll take refinement, but it's better than starting from nothing."
A small grin tugged at the corner of Elliot's lips. "Sounds good, I guess."
Leon gave a rare chuckle. "Don't get cocky. That was the easy part."
Towan cracked one eye open. "Wait… that was the easy part?"
Leon stood, stretching slightly. "You've opened the door. Now you have to learn to walk through it without tripping over your own feet."
The silver aura around the brothers slowly began to fade, but the feeling lingered—like a whisper beneath their skin. For the first time, they weren't just aware of Essentia.
They were part of it.
Leon stood with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Towan and Elliot settle into their stances. Their movements weren't perfect, but they had intent—and more importantly, rhythm.
Their breathing aligned slowly, each inhale syncing with the subtle, internal pulse of Essentia. Around them, the forest seemed to lean in, hushed and curious. Crickets whispered beneath the brush, and somewhere above, a hawk called as it drifted high on a current of wind.
Leon smirked to himself. Good. They're not overthinking it.
"Now," he said, brushing dirt from his palms onto his trousers, "try to make it flow on your own." His voice was calm, but edged with expectation. "If you lose the rhythm, just ask. I'm not gonna let you fry your nervous systems on day one."
Towan's fingers twitched slightly—his usual restlessness contained under layers of growing focus. He drew in a long breath, letting it swirl inside him like water finding a path through stone.
Elliot, always more methodical, furrowed his brow in concentration. He exhaled slowly, shoulders rising and falling as he traced the feeling through his body, like a map he'd already begun to memorize.
Leon gave them space, turning toward the campfire. The venison skewers sizzled, fat dripping onto the glowing coals with satisfying hisses. A sprig of rosemary crackled in the heat, its scent curling upward into the twilight air.
He crouched by the fire, flipping the meat with practiced ease. Behind him, the clearing fell deeper into silence—no chatter, no complaining, not even a sarcastic remark from Towan. Only the pulse of Essentia and the soft hush of the wind through the trees.