"To walk forward is not to forget those who stumble—it is to trust that they too can rise. If you stop for every fall, no one will reach the end."
–––––––––
Fifteen minutes had passed since the violet light had dissolved the course and returned them to the floor of Elyon's hall. The air was calm again, almost deceptively so, but within the four Chosen Ones the storm had not yet stilled.
Adam sat with his back against the cold stone, knees drawn to his chest, eyes fixed on the shimmering ground. His chest rose and fell unevenly. It wasn't Hana's stumble that replayed in his mind—it was his own. That instant when his heart clenched at her fall, when he turned back instead of forward, when his hesitation shattered their fragile rhythm.
It was his weakness that had undone them.
He clenched his fists. I lost control… because I couldn't master my emotions. Because I panicked.
Across from him, Hana adjusted her position slowly. Her body still trembled from exertion, but her face carried a determined calm. She had never been an athlete, never one for physical strain, and at thirty-five her body resisted the pace demanded of it. Yet she lifted her chin and broke the silence.
"Don't let me be your excuse," she said, her voice hoarse but steady. "I know I stumbled, but I don't want any of you to fail because of me. Not while it's only a test."
Adam looked up, startled. Hana's eyes met his—gentle, firm, and unashamed.
Sophia placed a hand on Hana's shoulder. "You can do this. Don't belittle yourself. Everyone falters the first time, but that doesn't mean you're a burden. We'll find the rhythm together." She paused, her gaze softening as it shifted toward Adam. "And as for you… it's natural to feel shaken when someone falls. Anyone with a heart would react. You don't need to carry that weight like you alone failed us."
Adam swallowed hard. "But I… I froze. If I hadn't looked back, if I hadn't hesitated, maybe—"
"Maybe nothing," Sophia interrupted gently. "Hesitation is part of learning too. What matters is whether you let it own you or whether you grow from it."
Clayton, who had been silent until now, rose slowly and stretched his shoulders. His presence was commanding, his voice steady as stone.
"She's right. Boy, no one here blames you for being human. But you won't always have the luxury of violet light saving us. You want to protect Hana? Protect Sophia? Then don't waste time looking back. Keep moving. That's the only way forward."
Adam lowered his head, his cheeks burning with shame, yet within him a flicker of resolve stirred.
Hana, still seated, offered a tired smile. "See? We all agree. Don't hold yourself prisoner, Adam. We'll rise together."
For a moment, silence lingered again. Then Clayton's voice cut through, firm and unyielding:
"Fifteen minutes are up. If we sit here longer, fear will take root. We go again."
The four rose slowly, each drawing breath, each steeling their mind. Before them the course shimmered back into being, cruel and relentless as before.
Tamiel's calm voice carried across the hall:
"Then let the second attempt begin."
---
The moment had arrived. The four Chosen Ones stood at the threshold of the two-kilometer course, its deadly obstacles stretching before them like a twisted labyrinth. Time was unkind here; it was said that a single traversal would take approximately one hour and fifteen minutes even for the most capable. Every swing of a pendulum blade, every collapsing platform, every hidden pit demanded absolute attention and precise timing.
Clayton stepped forward first, the ex-veteran's body and mind already synchronizing instinctively with the rhythm of the course. His movements were measured, deliberate, and tempered by experience. Behind him, Sophia's gaze remained fixed on his back, her own heartbeat and breathing aligned with the Vital Breath she had begun to grasp. Adam followed cautiously, the golden sparks Tamiel had planted in his mind flickering with each inhale, reinforcing his resolve. And at the rear, Hana adjusted her stance, bracing herself for every trial ahead. Though less agile and physically conditioned than the others, her mind was sharp, and her focus would have to compensate for the limitations of her body.
The Vital Breath, still at the prototype level, demanded more than simple physical endurance. Each inhale and exhale required concentration and mental effort, a focus that drained energy with every passing second. It was a delicate balance: speed could save them from certain traps, yet a single lapse in focus could end in catastrophe. Their bodies ached already from previous attempts, and yet they knew that slowing down too much would be just as deadly.
Clayton moved first through the swinging blades, ducking and rolling in perfect rhythm. His eyes scanned for subtle changes in the environment—shifts in shadow, the faint sound of a pendulum's swing, the glint of steel that betrayed a hidden pit. Sophia followed almost seamlessly, her own movements fluid, though a misstep on a collapsing platform nearly threw her off balance. She recovered midair, drawing in a controlled breath and letting it flow through her limbs, as Tamiel had taught.
Adam felt the weight of the course press upon him. Every step demanded calculation, every swing of the massive blades tested his coordination. Yet this time, he did not look back, did not hesitate. He focused on the cadence of his breaths, the subtle rhythm that linked his heartbeat to the motions of his body. Step by step, inhale by exhale, he moved forward, aware that his hesitation in the previous attempt had cost them all dearly. Now, his emotions were under control; he let the Vital Breath guide him, even as exhaustion clawed at his muscles.
Hana at the rear struggled more than the others. Her legs burned, her lungs screamed for relief, and a momentary lapse in focus nearly caused her to stumble into a spiked pit. Yet she caught herself, letting the prototype rhythm of the Vital Breath stabilize her. "I won't let my mistakes hold anyone back," she whispered to herself, bracing for the next obstacle.
From above, Tamiel observed quietly, his hands clasped behind his back. Astéria floated nearby, violet eyes glinting with amusement and curiosity.
"They are moving differently this time," Tamiel murmured, his voice low, almost to himself. "The Vital Breath begins to take root… at last. They understand, in part, its necessity, the union of mind, body, and perception. Good. We can now advance the courses."
Astéria tilted her head, an unnerving smile playing at her lips. "Indeed. They are learning, but do not forget—they are still mortals. A single misstep and everything could fall apart. Delightful, isn't it?"
Tamiel ignored the half-teasing warning, his eyes never leaving the group. "Let us see how far their grasp reaches. Not only speed and reflexes, but precision of thought, of attention, and the control of fear. This is only the beginning, yet already, the difference is clear."
First Kilometer
Clayton's lead proved invaluable. He avoided several of the deadliest traps with ease, rolling under spinning blades and leaping over spikes with precision. Behind him, Sophia mirrored his movements, occasionally adjusting for the subtle shifts in the course that only the most observant could detect.
Adam maintained a steady pace, inhaling and exhaling with careful timing, the golden sparks pulsing faintly in response to each calculated movement. Each swing, each jump, required mental energy that drained his focus, a reminder that even the simplest step could not be taken for granted.
Hana followed, slower but deliberate. Every fall she had endured in the previous attempt lingered in her memory. She adjusted, recalibrated, forcing the rhythm of the prototype Vital Breath to steady her trembling limbs. A collapsing platform nearly caught her, and she stumbled, hitting her hands against the stone. But she recovered, taking a deep, controlled breath, and moved forward again.
The first kilometer passed, but it was not without consequence. Clayton, usually unshakable, misjudged the timing of a pendulum swing and tumbled forward, rolling across the stone floor with a harsh grunt. The golden sparks within him flickered, and for a moment, even he faltered.
Sophia attempted a daring leap over a collapsing platform just behind him, but her foot caught the edge. She tumbled sideways, sliding across the stone and narrowly avoiding spikes. Adam's rhythm, so carefully maintained, shattered as he tried to adjust to Sophia's fall, and he too stumbled into a pit, barely recovering by clutching a swinging chain. Hana, trailing at the rear, miscalculated the spacing of a series of spikes. Her hands scraped against the stone, and she yelped as her balance was lost.
The hall rang with their collective failures. Violet light enveloped them, pulling each from the traps in turn, leaving them bruised, shaken, and mentally fatigued.
They sat for a moment, gasping and trembling. Sweat ran in rivulets down their faces; muscles screamed; lungs burned. Yet, despite the stumbles, a flicker of resolve sparked in their eyes.
Clayton exhaled, wincing from minor cuts. "Listen," he said, voice tight but steady. "We've fallen, yes. All of us. But falling isn't the end. It's a lesson. We adapt. We analyze. And then we try again. That's how we get through."
Adam nodded, swallowing hard. He could feel the weight of every failed attempt, but Clayton's words grounded him. It was not a question of shame; it was a test of adaptation.
One by one, they tackled the course again. Each attempt taught them something new:
Clayton adjusted his timing with the pendulums, learning to predict their swing rather than react.
Sophia refined her leaps, reading the subtle flex of platforms before committing.
Adam concentrated harder on his Vital Breath, coordinating every step with inhale and exhale, letting it steady both his heart and limbs.
Hana embraced her slower pace, observing carefully, letting each breath guide her balance.
Three more attempts passed in this manner, each ending in partial failure: slips, near misses, misjudged jumps. Each time, violet light pulled them from danger, each time they recovered, wiped off the sweat and blood, and prepared to try again.
By the fifth attempt, something shifted. Clayton led the charge once more, but now his movements were sharper, more precise, guided by the lessons of prior failures. Sophia followed with confidence, Adam's golden sparks resonating steadily, each breath measured and focused. Hana, now more synchronized with the rhythm of the prototype Vital Breath, moved with cautious determination.
One by one, they overcame the obstacles. Pendulums swung past without catching them; spikes were leaped over; collapsing platforms were read with perfect timing. Step by step, kilometer by kilometer, the four Chosen navigated the labyrinth.
Finally, the course ended. The stone floor opened to a wide space, and the shimmering hall seemed to breathe a sigh of relief with them. Every muscle ached; every nerve throbbed; each of them was at the absolute limit of both body and mind. Yet, a triumphant warmth spread through their exhausted hearts.
Before them, the two gods appeared, ethereal and radiant. Their faces shone with approval and quiet amusement.
"Impressive," one said, a bright smile illuminating her features.
And Tamiel stepped forward, nodding with measured respect. "You have shown courage… and adaptability. The course is merciless, yet you endured."
Clayton wiped his brow and offered a rare smile, leaning slightly to Sophia and Adam. "See? This is how we grow. Each failure teaches something new."
Sophia, still catching her breath, turned to Adam. "You did well," she said gently, her voice warm despite the exhaustion. "It's not about avoiding mistakes—it's about how you recover from them. You kept moving. That's all that mattered."
Hana, sitting with legs sprawled and hands on the floor, laughed quietly through her heavy breaths. "I thought I'd never make it. But… we did it. We all did."
Tamiel's calm voice rang out above the murmurs of relief. "Good. The Vital Breath, your perseverance, and your ability to adapt… all of it has taken root. You have learned more here in these trials than in many lessons to come."
Astéria's violet eyes gleamed with delight. "Indeed. You stumbled, you fell, you struggled… and yet, here you stand. Curious, mortals, to see how far you will push yourselves when true power awaits."
The four Chosen exchanged glances, exhausted smiles forming on their faces. They had learned the hardest lessons of the prototype Vital Breath: focus, endurance, adaptability, and the courage to continue despite repeated failure.
For the first time, they truly understood that moving forward was not about avoiding falls—it was about learning from them and pressing on.
–––––––––
The four Chosen Ones, now dressed in fresh garments, returned to the hall, restored to its ordinary state by Astéria's subtle will. The air seemed calmer, yet the weight of anticipation lingered. Tamiel remained to the side, silent and observant, his eyes tracing every twitch of emotion, every spark of thought within the four mortals.
Astéria stepped forward, her presence commanding attention without a single gesture. Her voice, clear and resonant, cut through the quiet.
— "You have learned to train your bodies and to refine your control through the Vital Breath. Do not underestimate it. Its potential is enormous when properly applied. But today, I will teach you something of a different nature—my authority, as the goddess of Arcanes and Magic."
The four looked at each other, curiosity and a flicker of caution rising in their eyes.
— "What is magic, and what are the Arcanes?" she continued, as if reading their thoughts before they could speak. "Magic is a phenomenon accessible to both mortals and divines. In other words, it is the performance of miracles that do not belong naturally to your kind. These miracles follow defined rules, a logic that governs their execution—but we shall explore that system in depth later."
Her gaze sharpened, and she continued, voice lower now, more intimate.
— "The Arcanes, on the other hand, are mastery over power itself—the ability to command energy, capacity, and authority extending even to the gods and the flows of known and unknown existence."
Clayton, seated forward, broke the silence, curiosity evident in his veteran gaze.
— "The flows of existence… are they… concepts or something tangible?"
Astéria's smile was slight, knowing.
— "They are the conceptual and metaphysical representation of the universe, from its beginning to its end. They concern the evolution of existence, encompassing all its ideas, forces, and principles."
Adam's brow furrowed, his mind racing to connect what he had learned about Vital Breath with this new, more abstract principle. So the Arcanes are… not just magic. They're a form of authority that interacts with everything, even beyond the visible.
— "The Arcanes differ from magic fueled by Eidos," Astéria explained. "While you can use Eidos to perform magic, the Arcanes can exist independently. They may have energies of their own—forces and particles confined to their specific Arcane domain, inaccessible to ordinary magic. Magic, however, relies on Eidos, sometimes called magical power. Eidos is omnipresent in the universe, partly hidden within the depths of the Void Ocean. It was born when Lord Nadir and Goddess Astra first converged. Its manifestations vary depending on proximity to the Arcanes and the environment, especially where fractures or connections to the Void Ocean exist."
Hana, eyes wide, whispered, "So everyone… everyone has a bit of Eidos?"
— "Yes," Astéria confirmed. "All mortals are born with a trace of Eidos. Some races, and even certain divine beings, have naturally greater access. With study, focus, and perception, you can enhance your reserves and refine your command of it. Eidos is the energy that enables magic. Without it, no magical act is possible. And remember—its presence is everywhere."
Sophia raised a hand, her voice curious yet analytical:
— "And the execution? How does one perform magic with Eidos?"
Astéria's gaze softened, acknowledging the intelligence behind the question.
— "Magic is a manifestation of authority. It can produce miracles when fueled by Eidos. These are not trivial acts, nor can they be wielded at mere whim. They require talent, perception, and understanding. Long ago, I appeared in this world and granted the knowledge of how to wield this miracle through various means. Some races will display abilities you may perceive as magic, but these are innate gifts, racial talents. Do not confuse such natural aptitude with mastery over the Arcanes or the systematic use of Eidos."
Clayton tilted his head, processing this. So there is a difference between raw talent, learned magic, and the Arcanes themselves… He realized that while his training had focused on the body and Vital Breath, this was a far deeper level—an interplay of authority, perception, and energy.
Adam felt his heartbeat quicken. If the Vital Breath opened the path to strength within myself… the Arcanes are the path to mastery beyond the body. They touch existence itself.
Astéria's voice carried across the hall, calm yet laden with command:
— "Understanding Eidos and the Arcanes is essential. The Vital Breath has prepared your body; now, the mind must expand to perceive forces beyond ordinary comprehension. Magic is a tool. The Arcanes are the law of authority that governs those tools.
"Magic itself can be employed in countless ways. Its effects may be weak or devastating, depending on how it is channeled and who wields it. Through different techniques, magic can approach, for a time, a near-limitless potential: creating matter, healing, shielding, or manipulating the elements. Its manifestations are vast, yet always bound by the user's understanding, skill, and perception. No one can wield it perfectly at first; mastery is a journey, as you have already seen with the Vital Breath."
Tamiel, observing silently, murmured to himself:
— "They are beginning to perceive the framework. Not fully yet, but the seed has been planted. The Vital Breath prepared the vessel. Now, the flow of knowledge and the grasp of authority can begin."
Astéria's eyes glimmered with quiet intensity:
— "Soon, you will witness demonstrations. Soon, you will attempt exercises. Observe carefully, question your assumptions, and prepare to challenge your perception. But for now, this is only the introduction. You may ask questions—clarify your understanding—but the practice itself will come later. The comprehension of the principle, the awareness of potential, must precede action. That is the way of the Arcanes and of magic alike."
The four Chosen, sitting upright, felt the weight of her words settle into their minds. The room seemed both smaller and infinitely vast—a paradox reflecting the nature of the Arcanes themselves.
Adam, quietly to himself, felt a surge of excitement. The powers and mysteries ahead promised wonders beyond imagination. And in that thrill, he carried a quiet hope—that perhaps through what he would learn, he might one day find a way to reach his brother and return home.
He glanced at Sophia and Hana, thinking how extraordinary the path ahead would be, how much there was yet to uncover. The anticipation burned in him, a steady flame of curiosity and cautious optimism.
Hana, Sophia, and Clayton each felt a similar spark of anticipation, tempered by the understanding that this was only the beginning of a much larger path.
Astéria finally inclined her head, signaling the transition:
— "Now, you may ask your questions. Speak, and let your curiosity guide the discussion. Comprehension is the first step; mastery will follow in time."
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Hello dear readers! 👋
Thank you for following this journey in Life in Astra. Although my request for a publishing contract was rejected, I am still writing with passion and dedication. Your thoughts, feedback, and reactions mean a lot to me. Even a simple comment, like, or critique helps me grow as a writer and shapes the path of this story. I deeply appreciate every one of you who takes the time to read, imagine, and explore Astra alongside the Chosen Ones.
And don't Forget :
Progress is not measured by perfection, but by the courage to continue, to rise each time you fall. Every challenge, every failure, is a step forward on the path of true understanding.