A few hours passed.

  Kael was battered, covered in bruises, and completely drained of energy.

  Night had fallen, cool and silent.

  "That’s enough for today," Velara said, crossing her arms. "Go get some rest."

  Kael sheathed his weapon awkwardly.

  He almost cut himself in the process.

  Velara, seated on a stump, snorted.

  "And you wanted to use the saber’s ability after that…

  Learn how to sheath it properly first.

  Don’t skip steps, Kael."

  He nodded humbly, then went to lie down.

  He found a patch of moss not far from the fire, stretched out on it, and wrapped himself in the black fabric he now used as both cloak and blanket.

  Warmth-wise, it doesn’t even come close to the fur cloak… But the texture is a thousand times better, he thought with a smile.

  He fell asleep on that thought, exhausted, yet strangely at ease.

  He was woken at dawn by a loud, military, merciless voice.

  "Up you get, you lazy bastard!"

  Kael groaned, pulled his cloak over his face to shut out the world.

  "Oh, so that’s how you want to play it?" Velara said irritably.

  She disappeared for a few seconds… then came back with a bucket of icy water.

  The water exploded against his face.

  Kael sprang up, breath knocked out of him, soaked, eyes glued shut—but on his feet.

  Yesterday’s lesson had stuck.

  Velara stood in front of him, straight-backed, hands on her hips.

  "Today is the first day of your training.

  Yesterday was just a test, to assess your real capabilities."

  Kael’s face fell.

  "And I have to say… at best, they’re ridiculous."

  She smiled, without warmth.

  "The real problem isn’t your technique.

  It’s what allows your technique to exist in the first place: your body, your breathing, your control."

  She took a few steps forward, her gaze still locked onto his.

  "I’ve put together a little series of exercises to discipline your body and your mind."

  What Kael went through next was hell.

  She made him run.

  For miles. Barefoot. Over uneven ground—rocky, sometimes slippery.

  He felt every stone digging into the arches of his feet.

  His legs burned, his calves screamed.

  More than once, he thought about stopping.

  But Velara was behind him. Always.

  And her voice cracked like a whip:

  "If you slow down, I double the distance!"

  When he stumbled, she got him back up with a word.

  No hand offered. Only fire in her voice.

  Then she sent him climbing a cliff.

  No rope. No help. Just his hands, his feet, and the echo of the wind high above.

  His fingers bled.

  His forearms trembled with the strain.

  Cramps twisted into his sides, but he climbed.

  Barely back on the ground, he put him through push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups—under the blazing sun.

  His breathing turned into a wheeze.

  The metallic taste in his mouth announced exhaustion.

  His arms grew heavy, almost dead.

  His body was a burden. His breath, a razor.

  But he didn’t stop.

  Every time he slowed down, Velara punished him:

  "Thirty more push-ups."

  "You hold that position until I say stop."

  "You want to fall? Then fall properly."

  Sweat streamed down his face, into his eyes, between his shoulder blades.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  His muscles burned as if a fire had been lit beneath his flesh.

  His heart hammered in his temples—and still he kept going.

  The day had been long.

  Kael had gone hunting, saber in hand.

  Velara had forced him to: he had to carry his weapon throughout the entire training session, whenever the “activity” allowed it. A constant burden, meant to teach him to become one with it.

  He returned to camp, dragging his feet, a rabbit in his hand.

  Exhausted, covered in dust—but still standing.

  Velara, seated near the fire, was drinking wine and gnawing on the remains of another gigantic animal.

  She snorted when she saw him arrive:

  "You see? You do know how to hunt.

  All it takes is being very hungry."

  Kael rolled his eyes, unimpressed.

  "Seriously… how do you manage to eat that much?

  Do you hide an extra stomach somewhere?"

  Velara shrugged, picking her teeth with a twig.

  "In reality, I don’t need to eat.

  I only eat because I love it."

  She bit into a chunk of meat to illustrate her point.

  "My body needs nothing. Not food, not water, not sleep. No human vital needs whatsoever."

  Kael sighed, resigned.

  "I knew you were special…

  Everything you do makes no sense.

  But seriously… what are you, exactly?"

  She looked him straight in the eyes.

  "I am the pinnacle of humanity.

  Its apotheosis, if you like."

  She tilted her head slightly.

  "Do you know which House I come from?"

  Kael answered honestly:

  "No… actually, I barely know two Houses.

  House Soléandre, and House Velcrann, which I discovered recently."

  Velara smiled, almost proudly.

  "I come from House Aeternis.

  And as such, I am blessed by a Primogene."

  Kael lifted his head, intrigued.

  "Althéa told me about the Primogenes not long ago.

  She said she’s blessed by one too.

  I didn’t think I’d meet someone else so soon…"

  Velara chuckled softly.

  "I’m surprised the Primogenes are unknown even in the Broken Crown.

  It’s almost unthinkable, considering they are the creators of the world."

  She paused, then added:

  "Indeed, the princess is blessed by The Lost, the Primogene of love.

  And me… I am blessed by The Immutable."

  Kael raised an eyebrow.

  "The Primogene of ego?"

  She gave a satisfied smile.

  "Exactly. I see you’ve been taught well.

  The princess is passionate about History… and mythology."

  She continued, more composed:

  "The blessing of The Immutable is simple:

  no vital needs whatsoever.

  And all physical, sensory, and psychic capabilities are developed to such an extent…

  that the laws of the universe no longer really apply."

  Kael let out a long sigh.

  "I understand better why you can do everything you do…

  Like running—well, what you call running—at a speed that defies logic,

  making fire with your hands, or all sorts of other completely insane things…"

  He paused, narrowed his eyes.

  "But I have a question.

  Which Trame do you come from?

  I’m guessing you’re an Unyielding. That would seem… logical."

  Velara snorted.

  "No. I’m not an Unyielding."

  She let the silence hang.

  "Nor a Fragmented."

  Kael frowned, confused.

  "Wait… what?"

  "I acquired a Resonance at birth.

  I’ve wielded Elan since the very first beat of my heart."

  Kael froze. He couldn’t even process the information.

  "Huh…?"

  "I came into the world directly at the Singularity stage.

  Blessed from birth.

  A unique case."

  Kael rubbed his temples, a sigh on the edge of his lips.

  "So what exactly is a Resonance?"

  Velara took on a thoughtful look, almost hesitant.

  "I don’t know if I should tell you…"

  She let the silence hang. Her gaze gleamed with a mischievous spark.

  She clearly wanted something else.

  Kael understood quickly, sketched a smile, and gave in with a fake sigh:

  "Come on… please… Master."

  Velara rubbed her hands together, satisfied.

  "Very well.

  A Resonance is, in a sense, the opposite of a Trame."

  She straightened slightly, her tone more professorial.

  "For an Innate Trame to manifest, the world has to test you.

  You must prove your existence to the world.

  For the Fragmented, it’s the opposite: your consciousness imposes your existence on the world."

  She raised a finger.

  "Basically:

  Either the world recognizes you, and you unlock your Elan.

  Or your own psyche imposes itself on the world, and you unlock your Elan.

  That’s the foundation of Trames."

  Kael nodded slowly, focused.

  "And Resonance?"

  "It’s different.

  No Trial. No Trame. No revelation required."

  She tilted her head slightly.

  "With Resonance, your mere presence in the world forces the universe to bend.

  You unlock your Elan naturally, like your other senses.

  Seeing, hearing, feeling… wielding Elan."

  Kael rested a hand on his chin, thoughtful.

  "Tch… that would’ve suited me just fine, being born like that…"

  Then he added:

  "And… do all those with a Resonance get born at the Singularity stage, like you?"

  Velara shook her head, almost weary.

  "No.

  It’s only me.

  I’m the only one recorded to date."

  Kael smiled, amused.

  "Well… looks like I’ve got a very special master."

  He paused, more serious:

  "But I was wondering something…

  Why do you serve the royal family?

  You’ve got extraordinary abilities, and you play bodyguard?

  Isn’t that a bit… beneath what you could be doing?"

  Velara raised an eyebrow, almost impressed.

  "Now that is a relevant question."

  She took a sip of wine, settled more comfortably, and replied:

  "This role has been handled by the Aeternis since the very founding of the House, during the Age of Cities.

  In 1624, to be precise."

  "And in 1630, my ancestor, Cassian Aeternis, was forced to sign a treaty of vassalage with House Soléandre.

  Since then… we have served as the royal guard."

  Kael frowned, curious.

  "Why a treaty of vassalage?

  And how could your ancestor—assuming he was anything like you—have been subdued?"

  Velara immediately raised a hand to cut him off.

  "I like you, Kael.

  But I don’t have to discuss matters of state—especially ones that are millennia old and confidential.

  And besides, you wouldn’t understand any of it."

  Her tone was sharp, closed.

  Kael lowered his head, a little disappointed.

  "I understand…"

  A silence settled in.

  Velara took another sip of wine. Then, without looking at him:

  "And besides… I don’t know myself.

  So I couldn’t tell you anyway."

  Kael burst out laughing, unable to stop himself.

  Velara turned her face away, but he clearly saw the smile she was trying to hide.

  Velara ended the conversation in a calm, almost compassionate tone:

  "Go get some rest.

  Tomorrow will be a very long day for you.

  Like the ones that follow."

  Kael thought back to the waking nightmare that day had been.

  He wrapped himself in his black cloak, settled near the fire, and fell asleep almost instantly.

  A deep sleep.

  Dreamless.

  Peaceful.

  "GET UP!"

  Kael jolted awake.

  A blade was resting just above his throat.

  And it wasn’t even the second day yet.