The dawn broke pale and silent over the forest. Mist rolled low across the clearing, curling around the roots like breath. Kael stood in the middle of it all, his sword drawn, his body steady as stone.
He had been training since before sunrise. Again. He didn't tire as easily now. His limbs felt lighter, his Essence more fluid. Every motion felt guided—refined—not by instinct alone, but by a subtle thread of understanding that wove itself through each strike.
A whisper that was not his master's voice.
When the old man appeared from between the trees, Kael didn't even notice. The master watched him move through a full sequence—blade arcing in perfect circles, Essence pulsing in rhythmic waves. It wasn't normal. No boy without awakening should have advanced this fast, no matter how gifted.
The old man's eyes narrowed.
"Stop."
Kael froze mid-swing, blade humming faintly. The mist seemed to recoil from the sound of that single word.
The old man stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "Show me that again."
Kael hesitated, unsure. "Was something wrong—?"
"Again." His tone left no room for questions.
Kael obeyed. The movements came naturally now—fluid, precise, dangerous. His sword blurred, every motion laced with both Essence and something else—something darker, subtler, alive. It shimmered faintly with the same faint silver-blue glow from his core, threaded with thin veins of shadow.
When he finished, silence stretched between them.
The old man finally spoke, voice quiet. "Your flow is stable. Too stable. You've skipped the resistance phase."
Kael blinked. "The what?"
"Resistance," his master said, pacing slowly around him. "When one first begins circulating Essence, the channels fight back. They reject, strain, collapse. It takes months to teach the body to obey. Yet yours…" He stopped behind Kael, studying him. "Yours obeyed in a week."
Kael's fingers tightened on the hilt. He could feel the woman's faint amusement brushing at the edge of his thoughts, like laughter behind a closed door.
"Careful, my Master," she whispered, her voice honey-smooth. "He's beginning to suspect."
Kael forced his mind to quiet. "Maybe I'm just… learning fast."
The old man's lips twitched, half amused, half grim. "There's learning fast—and then there's rewriting nature's pace. You're not an idiot, Kael. So I'll ask once. What changed?"
Kael swallowed. His mouth felt dry. "Nothing. I just… understood better, I guess."
The old man stared at him for a long time. Then he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Understanding isn't born overnight."
He stepped back, raising a hand. "Fine. Then prove it."
Before Kael could respond, the ground trembled. Essence gathered around the old man's palm—dense, blinding, like compressed lightning.
Kael's instincts screamed.
"Defend yourself!"
The attack came before he could even draw a full breath. A wave of raw Essence surged toward him, enough to break trees and split stone. Kael reacted on instinct, drawing his sword in one smooth motion, channeling power into the blade.
The impact hit like thunder.
Kael was thrown backward, sliding through the grass. His core flared wildly, his channels blazing with heat. The sword's hum rose, dark and fierce—but it wasn't consuming. It was answering.
He exhaled sharply, steadied himself, and moved.
The next strike from his master came faster—so fast it blurred. Kael deflected it, barely. Sparks scattered. His arms shook under the weight.
"You're stronger than before," the old man said between blows. "But strength without balance is chaos."
Kael gritted his teeth, countering another strike. "Then I'll learn balance!"
He spun, channeled his Essence, and released it in a sweeping arc. The blue-silver current lashed through the air—mixed now with faint streaks of shadow. When it struck, it split the mist cleanly apart.
The old man stopped moving.
His eyes flickered to the blade, then to Kael's chest, where his nascent core glowed faintly through his shirt. For a moment, neither spoke.
Then—"That wasn't pure Essence."
Kael froze. "What?"
"I felt it," the old man said quietly. "Something else mingled with your flow. It's not corruption—but it isn't natural either."
Kael's heartbeat quickened. He could feel her now—hovering just at the edge of his awareness, silent but present. Watching. Waiting.
He forced a breath. "Maybe it's just a resonance from the sword. It's cursed, remember?"
The master didn't answer right away. His gaze lingered on the blade, then on Kael's face. "Perhaps."
But the tone told Kael he didn't believe it.
The old man turned away, voice calm but firm. "We'll continue training tomorrow. No Essence practice tonight. I want your channels to rest."
Kael nodded, though he could feel the weight in his master's words. It wasn't a request—it was a precaution.
When the master disappeared into the trees, Kael exhaled shakily and sank to the ground. The cursed sword lay across his lap, quiet, pulsing faintly with its twin lights.
Then her voice came again, smooth and low.
"He's clever. Too clever."
Kael rubbed his forehead. "You think I don't know that?"
"You should be proud. He's testing you because he fears what he doesn't understand." Her tone turned teasing. "But even he can't see what's inside you now."
Kael stared down at the faint glow beneath his skin. The Essence there wasn't purely blue or silver anymore. Threads of crimson shimmered faintly within—the same hue as her eyes.
"Is this your doing?" he whispered.
She chuckled softly. "Ours, my dear Master. You broke the seal; now we share the same current. You grow stronger because we move together."
Kael didn't know whether to feel reassured or afraid. The warmth inside his chest felt powerful—but it was no longer just his.
He closed his eyes, letting the forest fall silent around him.
Tomorrow, his master would test him again. He could feel it. The man was too disciplined to ignore what he'd seen.
And when that happened… Kael wasn't sure if he'd still be fighting for his master—or against him.
******
two today, four tomorrow.