A cold breeze swept across the hills that next morning as Yig stood beside the other students, Blū and Oy, waiting for Master Silver’s instruction. Blū and Oy wore less than he did, despite the chill—a fact that made Yig want to rip something off himself just to prove a point.

  Blū eyed him with smugness, as if waiting for him to fail. Oy, on the other hand, seemed immune to distractions. He stood tall, his long black hair whipping in the wind, focused solely on their teacher.

  “Right then, let’s get this started,” Silver said, perched atop a rock overlooking the three young men. He wore a loose-fitting robe that fluttered in the wind, offering little protection from the cold—a puzzling choice. Beside his crossed knees sat a steaming bowl of food, a morning luxury held just out of Yig’s reach. “As you’ve probably guessed,” Silver yelled over the breeze, “training will be a little different today because of our visitor. So, let’s ask him—what is it you want to practice, exactly?”

  The boys turned to Yig, and he was struck by the sudden realization that he had no idea what to ask for. “Uhh… can we train my Levula?”

  “No,” Silver said with a chuckle. “You’re not staying that long, that’s for sure.” The others laughed too.

  “What about Activation? Is that what you call it?”

  “That’s fine. The day won’t be too different from usual. You know where to gather.”

  Yig didn’t know where to gather, but it wasn’t hard to follow his fellow students to the base of a hill, where track marks from years of wear carved through the grass. Three loud thuds echoed from above as boulders—each three feet in diameter—slammed into the dry mud, all hurled from Silver’s direction.

  Blū and Oy pressed their hands to the boulders, arms flexed, and activated their aura. Yig jumped in to follow their lead, gripping the last boulder and activating his aura to align with his peers.

  “Begin!”

  He watched as his competitors pushed their rocks uphill, their aura flaring as they climbed. The strain left footprints stamped into the dirt with every step.

  Yig drew on his time with Host and the trials she’d put him through—like hanging from a branch while straining his aura with pull-up after pull-up, or deflecting a barrage of rocks she’d hurled at him.

  Each step was challenged by the immense weight of the boulder, and the pressure only increased as the incline steepened. He fell into a rhythm that grew harder with every cycle: push, breathe, stabilize his aura, breathe, push. Despite the cold wind, his body burned—his arms and legs straining, veins pressing to the surface. He felt crushed by his own weight, like some greater gravity was trying to pin him to the earth.

  But his technique could only carry him so far. Eventually, he realized he was making almost no progress. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw no one beside him. Frustrated, Yig slid his hands beneath the boulder and concentrated as much mana as he could into his forearms, leaving the rest in his legs to maintain traction. With a shout, he heaved upward, rolling the boulder several feet ahead. Not wasting the opportunity—or risking being crushed by the death trap—he launched forward with a kick from both feet, then landed quickly, catching the boulder before it rolled back.

  He repeated this method—perhaps fifteen times—until the hill’s slope peaked and leveled off into the flat surface where the others waited. He immediately let his aura settle, then ensured the rock was stable and wouldn’t roll back the moment he turned away. Once certain it was secure, he collapsed to the ground—still conscious, despite his body’s protests.

  “Not all that bad,” Silver said, finishing the last of his bowl with a gulp. “But you’re still fighting against your own aura. You need to reach a point where activation feels freeing, not like a great task. It’s like the difference between managing a meadow and frolicking through it.”

  “Give up yet?” Blū asked, sitting atop his own rock—smug, though perhaps less irritated than the day before. Yig still had no idea what this white-haired guy’s problem was.

  He chuckled between long breaths. “No way.”

  “Good,” Silver nodded, then casually nudged the rock back down the hill with his foot.

  Yig popped up just in time to see his boulder roll neatly back into place at the bottom.

  “Just a few more times,” the master said, setting down his bowl.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  ◇─◇──◇─◇

  In the pleasant breeze of the Moonset Hills, not far from Silver’s temple, Sil and Nil sat calmly, legs crossed, eating the breakfast Silver had left for them, bowls in hand. On Sil’s lap, Spartan yawned and wriggled until he found a comfortable spot. It looked peaceful from a distance as Yig trudged uphill to meet them. Once he reached the top, he collapsed onto his back, exhausted from the workout. Silver and the others followed shortly after, grabbing bowls and serving themselves from a large barrel, seemingly unaffected by the training.

  “You alright?” Oy asked Yig.

  “How are you not tired?”

  Oy shrugged. “Do this enough, and you get used to it. What, did you think you’d master it on the first day?”

  “That was sort of what I was hoping for.”

  Blū sat beside Yig and handed him a full bowl, still steaming. “Eat this. And don’t worry—you’re not the first arrogant wanna-be hero to show up and nearly quit.”

  “Hey!” Yig snapped.

  “Just eat, Yig,” Sil suggested. “Don’t get all worked up.”

  Yig sat up with a burst of determination and began scarfing down the food at abnormal speed, then quickly refilled his bowl after politely asking.

  “His arrogance is hard to settle,” Sil said between large slurps of her meal. “He’ll keep going until his body gives out.”

  Blū shrugged. “Well, if there’s a good way to be arrogant, that’s probably it.”

  “You saying you’re not arrogant, Blū?” Oy asked with a smile.

  “Maybe a little.”

  After finishing his second bowl, Yig ran to Silver’s side. “Got any water, old man?”

  Silver sighed and stood. “Yeah, back in the dining room. Let me—”

  But Yig had already taken off, sprinting down the hill and disappearing behind the temple walls. A few minutes later, he returned, having emptied the last of a water pail.

  “Right!” he yelled, slamming the empty pail into the dirt. “Let’s get back to it!”

  “Let us finish first,” Oy said.

  Blū scoffed and stood. “Maybe he’ll calm down after taking a good loss.”

  “Okay, okay,” Silver said, raising his hands gently. “If you two must, then take it somewhere else—”

  A tingle rushed through the air from the force of a sudden activation—quickly expelled by the impact of Blū’s dropkick. Caught off guard, Yig managed to activate his aura in the final, crucial seconds before impact, blocking with his forearm.

  Now sharply alert, Yig scanned every angle for an attack. He spotted a follow-up punch to his right and quickly blocked it. His aura had begun to build to a more stable level.

  He leapt back, trying to escape Blū’s range, but the white-haired man stayed relentless—dashing up at a matching speed and unleashing a series of powerful jabs. After the third strike of the onslaught, Yig shifted a large amount of mana to his head, sharpening his senses and enhancing his reflexes to the point of dodging each punch almost instinctively.

  Realizing his attacks were only grazing, Blū leapt back to make space. The two stood in the swaying grass, both waiting anxiously for the next move.

  Sil remained unbothered. If they were done eating, she figured she might as well grab another couple of bowls.

  “That was a cheap shot!” Yig yelled.

  “Surprise attacks are hard to replicate in training,” Blū remarked. “I just did you a favor!”

  Yig’s eye twitched. “Can you at least wait until I’ve got some energy back?”

  Blū cracked his knuckles. “You wanted training, didn’t you? When better to train than when you’re exhausted?”

  “Even so! Seems like this is more about beating the crap out of me!”

  “Oh, you figured it out?”

  “What’s your problem? You think I can’t be a hero or something?”

  Blū grit his teeth. “A hero? There are better things to be than parading around in your own narcissistic play!”

  Sil, chewing her food, raised an eyebrow. Was this not about Yig specifically? Did Blū have a problem with heroes in general?

  Both their auras pulsed with power.

  While holding a strong stance, Blū drew in a breath, his aura briefly flaring around him. Yig raised his arms and coated them in energy.

  With a burst of speed, Blū sprinted across the grass in three long strides—closing the gap faster than a pouncing hound. He focused power into his foot and struck with a kick like an explosion. Yig blocked with an enhanced forearm, managing to absorb the blow, though the impact still knocked him down. The injuries could have been far worse.

  As Blū drew back, he was clearly worn from the burst of energy. Yig lunged forward for another attack—only to be stopped by a punch to the head that sent him flying.

  “Come on! I thought you were gonna be this great hero, no? Can’t beat me? Just some nobody in a temple?”

  Yig touched his lip, rubbing the bruise, then looked to his damaged arm and focused. His mana swirled around it. Sil enhanced her eyes and senses, trying to see what he was doing. Perhaps it was that healing touch he’d used before.

  Clenching his fists, Yig pushed his aura further—subduing the pain just enough to move better. But with an opponent who could outmatch his mana and still move freely, his options were running low. His aura roared like a wild beast he couldn’t tame, but he tried to control it anyway.

  Recognizing the growing threat, Blū expanded his aura and let it settle evenly across his body. Then, with a precise and nimble motion, he closed in again—readying another kick.

  Yig responded with a punch, packed with as much aura as he could channel.

  The two attacks collided like a thunderclap, echoing across the hills and sending frightened birds soaring into the sky. The empty breakfast barrel tipped over, and Spartan darted for cover behind the others.

  Oy laughed. “I think they might be going at it for a while.”

  Silver shook his head. “Indeed.”

  ◇─◇──◇─◇

  Quinlou felt something. He’d been quite comfortable in his little spot under the overhang of a roof. Moonset had been dull until now—but this tingle down his neck? Finally, something that piqued his interest.

  He peeked out from the narrow space where he’d been hiding all morning, tucked between the side of a two-story building—somewhere he could avoid unwanted attention. He felt it again: a strong surge of mana. A burst. A clash. Two enhanced forces smashing into each other.

  Quinlou smiled. Maybe he should visit that temple before he left. Those monks just might prove… entertaining.