(Ereshgal POV)
Kisaya's voice broke the silence.
"It must be difficult to move the way you want with that strength."
"Quite" I admitted. "I practiced a little after you left, but it wasn't enough."
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "Now it makes sense why the branches snapped when we were making the fire…" Her voice trailed, caught between analysis and concern.
"Can you fight?" She asked.
"Impossible." My answer was cleaner than I intended, cutting away even the smallest doubt.
Kisaya tensed slightly at my tone.
Silence stretched. She broke it, quiet but firm. "I know you want to hurry and go after Ennari, but you need at least some control over that strength."
I closed my eyes. She was right. I hated that she was right. Without control, I was nothing but a liability. A monster on a leash too thin to hold.
"It's better this way" she continued. "No one knows you're alive. Ennari's been with Ishtal for a while already, a few more days won't change anything."
I nodded slowly.
Then she asked "Don't you want to eat? Or rest? Dawn's only a few hours away."
"I'm not hungry." My gaze dropped to my hands, remembering how easily they had broken the stone.
"I'll start working on it right away."
Without another word, I stepped away from the fire. Kisaya remained beside it, the glow painting her face as she watched me go.
Where should I even start?
I tested my arms, my legs. The sensation was different from when I first tried to walk, they obeyed, but too quickly, too violently, before I had even finished deciding what I wanted. Thought and movement no longer aligned.
I reached for the pile of branches at my side. They had already slipped from my grip once; now they would be my measure.
At first, I tried holding the thicker ones. My grip crushed them into fragments. Over and over. Until I found the balance between force and restraint. Until they held without breaking.
Then I reversed it, focused. Willed myself to crush on command. The wood exploded with each squeeze. Big branches, then small. Little by little, I was learning.
Bump.
Bump.
Bump.
My head snapped up. At first I thought it was the fire, the crackle of wood, but no, the sound was different. Too steady. Too alive. It struck again.
I turned toward Kisaya.
Her heartbeat.
I could hear it—her pulse—from across the fire. The beat quickened when I looked at her, each thud striking harder, echoing in my skull.
She caught my stare. "What's wrong?"
I swallowed the truth, forced my gaze away. "Nothing. I'll keep going."
Minutes passed. Branches broke, then held. My hands finally stopped shaking; I could tighten my grip without shattering everything, loosen it without dropping the weight. At least here, in my fingers, I had found a trace of control.
Now it was time to push further, to see if my legs could obey in the same way. I started with a jog, testing balance. The first step drove me forward faster than I could handle. I fell face-first into the dirt.
From the side, Kisaya laughed. A short, startled sound, quickly smothered. My glare caught her before she turned away, but it was too late—her shoulders still shook faintly.
Behind me, the ground had cracked, a shallow crater where my foot had been.
I stood again and tried once more. It started the same as walking, every attempt ending in a stumble. But little by little, the mistakes shaped into control. Each fall taught me where to place my weight, each slip brought me closer to balance. And then, finally, I found it.
That was when I noticed it. I wasn't tired. My chest never heaved, my body never strained. Of course not.
I wasn't breathing.
I pressed a hand to my chest. Still. Silent. Empty.
And yet, I wasn't weak. I was stronger than ever.
If I had managed to steady my steps, then the next trial had to be my hands, how they moved, how they struck. Combat was the real test.
A branch lay at my feet, roughly the length of a sword. My fingers tightened around it, testing the grip. Now that I could control my strength—at least to a point—I raised it as if it were a hilt, setting my stance.
The first movements came awkward, too stiff, too cautious. I forced myself to slow down, repeating each step until the flow stopped feeling like a stranger's body moving in place of mine. By the fire, Kisaya stayed quiet, her gaze steady on me while she tended the flames.
The sky brightened. I turned east, and there it was.
Dawn.
The light struck me harder than flame. I had to shield my eyes, but even through my hand, the sun was unbearable. It wasn't just light anymore. Colors bled through the horizon, saturating everything until the trees shimmered as if carved from glass. Not beautiful. Unreal. Painted in a palette only I could see.
I felt like a stranger looking at the world for the first time.
It was overwhelming, almost too much to take in, but I forced myself to focus and began again.
Slow, deliberate cuts. First vertical, then horizontal, then diagonal. Each motion steady, measured, no more than practice. The branch moved where I told it, nothing more.
But as I pushed faster, the air began to answer me. A faint hiss at first, barely a whisper. Then louder, until every swing carried a bite. The wood trembled in my grip, protesting the force I poured into it.
I tried again, cutting down. The sound cracked, not just a whistle but a snap, as if the air itself resisted and broke apart. My arms no longer felt like they were moving wood, every motion carried weight far beyond what the branch should allow. Faster still. The whistle rose into something closer to a roar, splitting past my ears, reverberating in my chest.
That was the power. I didn't need to land a blow to feel it. Every swing carried enough to wound, enough to kill.
I traced lines into the dirt, guiding my steps. Advanced. Retreated. Crouched. Struck. Step, slice, step back, counter. The rhythm consumed me. My body moved before I decided, anticipating thought itself.
Minutes turned into hours. Before, training like this would have left me drenched in sweat, lungs burning. Now? Nothing.
But there was something else. A thrum low in my throat, pressing outward. I brought a hand to my neck, feeling it for a moment. Whatever it was, I forced myself to ignore it, another strange sign, another question I wasn't ready to face.
I turned toward Kisaya. She hadn't moved. Still watching, the firelight caught in her eyes.
"I think that's enough for now" I said. "Not perfect… but enough."