The darkness peeled away, and I blinked and found myself back in marble great hall.

  Balt was already there, slumped against one of the pillars, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. He looked as if he’d been dragged through a lightning storm. "How did your training go?" asked Balt.

  I let out a breath. “Sword drills. Hours of them. The teacher was… relentless. Every swing, every stance had to be perfect, corrected me and made me swing until I thought my arms would fall off.”

  Balt gave a weak laugh, shaking his head. “Lucky you. I got sent to a lunatic who just stood there firing electric orbs at me. If I didn’t destroy them in time or with the correct concentration of mana in my bolts he wanted. He would send a lightning bolt at me that shocked the shit out of me."

  He held up his hands, faint sparks still dancing across his fingertips. “I swear I have more lightning running through me at this point than that asshole Dalton ever did.”

  Despite myself, I chuckled. “Sounds brutal.”

  “Brutal?” Balt groaned, dragging himself upright. “I feel like a human lightning rod. System help me if I have to pee.”

  Balt was still rubbing his arms, faint sparks crackling across his skin, when the air in the hall shifted.

  Lawson appeared without a sound, as if he had always been there, standing tall in the center of the chamber. In each hand he held a crystal. They were damn near see-through.

  His gaze swept over us, unreadable as ever, before settling on me. Then Balt. “Well,” Lawson said, his voice calm but carrying that weight that always made me straighten. “How did you like your morning training?”

  Balt groaned and lifted his hand. Tiny arcs on his palm, snapping in the air like an angry firefly. “How do you think?” he muttered, his voice dry, though his face couldn’t quite hide the undertone of pride he felt from doing it.

  I glanced down at my own hands. The skin across my palms was raw, blisters already forming where Ember’s hilt had pressed too long and too hard. I flexed my fingers, wincing at the sting, then looked back up at Lawson.

  “Good training,” I said, my voice rough but honest. “I never knew there was so much that went into a sword strike.”

  Lawson’s lips curved into the faintest smile. “Both of the masters you’re seeing,” he said evenly, “are masters that are among the best in all the realms. Keep working hard, and you’ll understand why I chose them for you.”

  He lifted his hands, the two clear crystals catching the light and scattering it across the marble floor in sharp, dancing fragments. “You’ve probably both noticed I’m holding these,” Lawson continued, his tone shifting into that measured cadence he used when explaining something. “Let me show you what you’ll be doing today.”

  The Overseer lifted one crystal, holding it between two fingers. For a moment it was clear, flawless, then it flared, flooding with a deep emerald glow. The light pulsed like a heartbeat, casting green shadows across the marble and painting the hall in shifting hues.

  Without a word, he walked. His steps echoed softly as he traced the outskirts of the hall, the glow of the crystal trailing with him like a lantern in the dark. Balt and I followed him with our eyes, the silence stretching, heavy with expectation.

  Finally, Lawson came to a stop directly in front of us. The green light washed over his face, sharp angles made sharper, his expression unreadable as ever. He held the crystal up between us, its glow steady and alive.

  Balt frowned, sparks still dancing faintly at his fingertips. “That’s it?”

  Lawson chuckled, a rare sound that carried more weight than mockery. “I thought you would say that. Hold off on judgment until I get done with my explanation.”

  Lawson let the green glow fade from his hands until the crystals were once again clear and flawless. He studied us both for a moment, then spoke.

  “You ever notice,” he said, his eyes flicking to me, “that Riven’s flame on his sword varies from time to time? Brighter, sharper, or duller depending on the moment?”

  I blinked, surprised, but nodded slowly.

  “That’s no accident,” Lawson continued. “His emotional state is showing in the flames. It’s a good image to explain what an aura really is.”

  He extended his hands, offering each of us a crystal. I took mine carefully, the surface cool and smooth against my palm. Balt mirrored me, sparks still faintly dancing across his fingertips as the crystal settled into his grip.

  “Aura,” Lawson continued, “is a combination of spirit and intellect. It enhances your attacks, sharpens your edge. And when you master it, aura can do more than empower—you can use it to protect yourself from others who’ve advanced enough to wield it as a weapon.”

  I flashed back to Carson's suppression and him laughing at me as he told me I was under-leveled.

  Lawson pointed to the crystals now resting in our hands. “This is the first step. To control your aura, push mana and will into the crystal in a steady stream.”

  Balt frowned, lifting his crystal uncertainly. “Mana, I get. But… how do you push will?”

  Lawson’s gaze flicked to him, calm and unblinking. “Will is will. Think of it like this, when you’re gassed, when your body is screaming to quit, but you refuse to let your barrier drop. That stubbornness, that refusal, that’s will. It’s more of a feeling than anything I can aptly describe.”

  I tightened my grip on the crystal, the cool surface pressing into my palm.

  “When you can harness both, mana and will, and do it consistently,” Lawson continued, “the crystal will glow green. Once you get it to light up, all you have to do is walk around the hall, keeping the green light going. Do that, and my training for the week is complete.”

  He paused, the faintest curve tugging at his lips. “Then you can take a nap. Get a shower. Go into town and see everyone. Do whatever you want.”

  I caught the tone beneath his words, just enough sarcasm to make it clear he didn’t expect us to succeed quickly.

  Balt snorted, sparks still flickering faintly across his fingertips. He held up his crystal and smirked. “Well, this is a delightful change of pace from getting shocked.”

  Lawson’s eyes danced, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he flicked his wrist. An armchair shimmered into existence beside him. He lowered himself into it with calm precision, folding one leg over the other. “Okay,” he said, settling back, eyes fixed on us. “Get to it.”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  The weight of his gaze made it clear: this wasn’t a suggestion.

  I brought the crystal to my eyes, focusing hard. I needed this, and all that was left was to put in the work.

  Hours passed. I could make my mana flow easily enough. I could feel it surge from my soul into the stone. For a heartbeat, it flared emerald, light spilling between my fingers.

  The emerald glow fought to hold, trembling in my grip, then died, leaving me clutching nothing but cold crystal and the echo of my failure.”

  I ground my teeth and tried again. Same result. A flash of green, a flicker of hope, then nothing.

  I knew at this point, I was extremely agitated. But knowing I was agitated helped me little. All I did was push harder, but the harder I pushed, the quicker my aura slipped away. It was like trying to stay afloat in a ship filled with holes.

  Beside me, Balt was having no better luck. His crystal would light up bright green for a moment, but the light never held long. I watched him sigh and roll his shoulders, and finally he let out a groan.

  He was glaring at the stone. "I take it back. I’d rather be getting shocked.”

  I almost laughed, but the frustration in my chest kept it from escaping. The crystal in my hand remained stubbornly clear, as if mocking me.

  Lawson leaned forward slightly in his chair, eyes narrowing. “Have either of you ever done void exercises?”

  Balt and I exchanged a look, both of us frowning. I shook my head. “Void… what?”

  “It’s an old term,” Lawson said, his tone patient. “It means calming yourself by throwing your emotions out of your center. Emptying everything until you become the void. There is no anger. No fear. No excitement. Just stillness.”

  The words struck something within me. I remembered the breathing drills I’d used before, slow steady breaths, centering myself until the noise in my head dulled. I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, and let the tension bleed out of me.

  When I opened them again, I pushed mana and that quiet, stubborn will into the crystal.

  This time, the stone flared emerald, and stayed that way. The glow pulsed steadily in my palm, alive and strong. My chest tightened with excitement.

  Then, as quickly as it had come, the light died, leaving the crystal clear once more. I couldn’t help it. I pumped a fist in the air. “Progress!”

  Balt leaned toward me, eyes wide. “What did you do?”

  I grinned, still catching my breath. “Breathing. Centering. I just… pushed everything else out. No frustration, no noise. Just focus. That’s when it worked.”

  Void, huh?” Balt muttered, staring at his crystal. “Can you show me?” Balt asked eagerly.

  “Of course. I replied.” I walked him through it, breathing, centering, the way I’d pushed everything else out. The words came easy, after years of doing the breathing exercises. He listened, brow furrowed, then closed his eyes and tried.

  More hours slipped by. The hall echoed with our breathing, our whispered curses, the faint hum of mana. At last, both of us stood with our crystals glowing steadily emerald in our hands.

  We took a step forward, only one and the light sputtered out, leaving the stones clear again. I groaned. Balt swore. We started to reset and try again.

  Lawson, who had been silent the entire time, rose from his chair and glanced toward the tall windows. The light outside had shifted, shadows stretching long across the marble. “That’s enough for today,” he said, his voice calm but final. “You both made decent progress today. Ponder on your progress today.”

  We looked up at him, waiting for more.

  He gave us a thin smile. “And fellas, clean yourselves up. Being here with you all day was rough.” Before either of us could answer, he vanished, leaving only the echo of his words hanging in the hall.

  Balt lifted his arm, sniffed, and made a face. I frowned, did the same, and immediately regretted it. Sweat, smoke, and something sharp and metallic clung to me like a second skin.

  Our eyes met. “He might have a point,” I admitted. Balt groaned. “Yeah… shower first. Then food. Definitely food.”

  The villa was quiet, its marble halls echoing faintly as Balt and I wandered through. After a few wrong turns and opening more than one empty chamber, we finally stumbled across a storeroom. Inside, stacks of underclothes were neatly folded; they were simple, but clean. We grabbed what we needed, grateful for anything that didn’t reek of sweat and smoke.

  Further down, we found the baths. The room was carved from pale stone; the air was humid and faintly perfumed. Runes etched along the basin walls glowed faintly, and when I dipped a hand into the water, warmth spread instantly up my arm. The runes pulsed in rhythm, keeping the bath at a perfect heat.

  Balt let out a low whistle. “Now this… this I can get used to.”

  I chuckled, but as I sat down to unlace my boots, my humor faded. The leather was cracked; the soles worn thin, the stitching frayed beyond saving. I turned one over in my hands, the heel nearly separating. They’d carried me this far, but they were about done.

  My boots were the last thing I had since I left Earth. I sighed, setting them aside. “Guess I’ll need a new pair soon.”

  Balt smirked, already stripping down for the bath. “This water feels amazing.”

  I slid into the bath; the warmth wrapped around me like a blanket. The runes hummed faintly; the water rippled with a steady pulse that seemed to sink into my bones. For the first time all day, I let myself relax.

  Balt leaned back against the stone edge, eyes closed. Then he cracked one open and nodded toward my wrist. “That silver bracelet, what’s the deal with it?”

  I lifted my arm; the metal caught the glow of the runes. “It’s from Matt. My sword master. He said it’ll show me sword forms while I sleep.”

  Balt let out a low whistle. “That’s rough. Training in your sleep, even.”

  I shrugged, sinking deeper into the water. “I guess you can think of it that way.”

  We lingered there, letting the heat work the ache from our muscles, neither of us in a hurry to move. Eventually, we dried off, changed into clean underclothes, and padded barefoot through the villa until we found the kitchen. A few loaves of bread, some dried meat, and a jug of water were enough to quiet the hunger gnawing at us.

  By the time we made it back to our rooms, the weight of the day pressed down hard. Balt stretched, yawning. “See you in the morning.”

  “Yeah,” I said, already half asleep on my feet. As soon as I laid down and closed my eyes, the dream was waiting.