Warm light filtered through the blinds of the training hall, dust motes dancing lazily in the air. It was the first peaceful morning I'd had in what felt like weeks. For once, the voices were quiet.
I sat cross-legged on a mat, eyes closed, with the knife placed carefully on the wooden floor before me. The blade pulsed faintly with my breath, syncing with the slow rhythm of my meditation. A breeze drifted through the open window, carrying the scent of incense and wildflowers.
Across the room, she sat in the same position. Her posture was flawless—calm, upright, unmoving. I couldn't help but peek at her, wondering how someone so tense in battle could look so serene now.
A chirping sound echoed in the room. I turned and spotted a small creature—like a cross between a fox and a dragon—curled up in the corner. Its fur shimmered with faint blue light and its tiny horns glowed each time it exhaled.
"Don't mind Kai," she said without opening her eyes. "He only stays around people with calm energy."
"Kai?" I asked.
"Yes," she said flatly. Then silence.
We returned to meditating. Or at least, she did. I found my focus breaking over and over. My thoughts kept drifting toward her.
I cleared my throat. "What's your name, anyway?"
Her eyes snapped open. She stared at me, her expression unreadable.
"Don't ask me that," she said, voice low and sharp.
I blinked. "I just thought—"
"Don't. Think less. Meditate more."
The words stung more than they should have. She closed her eyes again, shutting me out like a gate slamming shut.
Later, I found the doctor in the small gym behind the lab. I was doing push-ups with my aura suppressed—a technique he insisted would build better control—when I decided to ask.
"Hey, Doc... what's her name?"
He chuckled without looking up from the clipboard in his hand. "Names are tricky things, you know. Full of power. She doesn't like giving hers out."
I sat up, sweat dripping down my neck. "So what should I call you, then?"
"Doctor works just fine," he said with his usual grin.
Kai, the mystic pet, trotted into the gym and curled up on my back mid-push-up, making my arms tremble.
"That's a good sign," the doctor said, scribbling something down. "Means you're finding balance."
As I struggled under Kai's weight, I found myself smiling for the first time in a while. For a moment, the chaos inside me was quiet. There was no mission, no monsters, no screaming shadows. Just breath, movement, and the feeling that maybe—just maybe—I was starting to belong.
The storm would return soon enough. But for now, I had found the eye of it.
And I wasn't alone.