The training hall was silent after their last failed attempt, the air still trembling with the echo of shattered light. Kaison's breath rasped in his throat as he clenched his fists, the ghost of chains still slithering around his arms before fading into nothing. Across from him, Alice stood tall, though her fingers twitched faintly against her practice sword, betraying the strain she refused to show.
Benson paced slowly around them, his heavy boots striking against the steel floor with the sound of a measured heartbeat. His eyes, always sharp, flickered between the two students like a hawk circling prey.
"You've made progress," he said finally, his voice even, though not warm. "But progress is not enough. Each failure chips at your spirit. Each abomination you create devours your focus. If you continue down this path without learning to listen, you will both collapse before the seal ever bends to you."
Alice exhaled sharply through her nose, her pride wounded. "We'll succeed. Give us another attempt."
Benson shook his head. "Not today. Fusion is not just a trial of willpower, Alice. It is the reflection of what lies beneath. If you cannot accept what lies within each other, you will continue to create nothing but monsters."
His words struck Kaison harder than he wanted to admit. Deep inside, the memory of the twisted construct haunted him—its screeching limbs, its broken form. He knew that wasn't just failure; it was a mirror of their discord.
Alice said nothing more, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Tomorrow," Benson declared, "you'll begin not with seals, but with yourselves. I want you to leave this hall and live in each other's shadows. Until you know who stands beside you, the seal will not open."
He snapped the tome shut, the sound echoing like a gavel in judgment. "Dismissed."
---
### Outside the Hall
The late morning sun was blinding after the dim interior. Alice walked ahead as always, her back straight, every step precise. Kaison followed a pace behind, feeling the weight of invisible chains binding them together.
He hated how she always seemed untouchable—disciplined, calm, perfect. She never stumbled, never faltered. But Benson was right. He knew almost nothing about her. Not really. And if fusion required trust… then maybe, just maybe, he'd have to look past her cold shell.
He jogged a little to catch up. "Hey."
Alice glanced at him, expression cool. "What is it?"
"You… really think this'll work? Spending time together?"
Her eyes flicked forward again. "If Benson says it will, then it must."
Kaison snorted. "That's a little blind, don't you think? Just following orders without question."
Her gaze snapped back to him, sharp as steel. "Discipline is not blindness. It's purpose. That's something you've never had."
The words stung more than he wanted to admit. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Maybe. But at least I'm not a walking statue."
Alice didn't answer. But he thought—just maybe—he saw the faintest twitch of her lips, like the ghost of a smirk.
---
### The Academy Grounds
The day dragged on as they moved through the academy side by side. They studied in the library, their silence interrupted only by the scratching of quills. They sparred in the outer yards, clashing wooden swords until their arms burned. They ate together in the mess hall, though neither said much.
Yet even in the silence, Kaison began to notice things.
Alice's precision wasn't just arrogance; it was habit. Every movement she made was calculated, efficient. She placed her cup exactly in the center of her tray. She folded her napkin with perfect angles. And yet, when she thought no one was watching, her hand would brush over the edge of her necklace—an old silver chain worn thin with age.
Once, when he asked about it, she only said, "It belonged to my mother," and nothing more.
By nightfall, Kaison lay in his dorm bed, staring at the ceiling. He thought of Benson's words. *A canvas painted by two hands…*
What would happen if he stopped trying to fight Alice's brushstrokes? If instead, he let them guide his own?
---
### The Next Morning
The training hall felt colder than usual when they stepped inside again. Benson stood waiting, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"Have you learned anything?" he asked.
Alice inclined her head slightly. "Enough to try again."
Benson's gaze shifted to Kaison. "And you?"
Kaison hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. I think I get it now."
"Good." Benson stepped aside. "Begin."
---
### Attempt at Fusion
They stood across from each other, seals glowing faintly on their arms.
Alice's voice was low but steady. "This time, don't resist me. Just… listen."
Kaison exhaled, shutting his eyes. "Fine. But you have to listen too."
Together, they reached into their seals.
"I imagine a sword," Alice whispered. "Not just any blade—a symbol. Straight, radiant, a weapon of judgment."
Kaison closed his eyes tighter. "I imagine chains. Not to bind, but to protect. To shield. A wall that stands between me and the world."
Their seals flared, the air humming with raw energy. Light gathered between them, shaping itself according to their shared will.
This time, something different happened.
The sword appeared first, long and gleaming, its edge sharp as a whisper. But instead of constricting it, Kaison's chains wove gently around the hilt, spiraling down its length like living veins. At the guard, the chains fanned outward, forming a shield that curved protectively yet flowed seamlessly into the weapon's design.
For a heartbeat, it held.
A sword and shield—two visions, one construct.
Alice's breath hitched. "It's working—"
But then, doubt cracked through Kaison's focus. He thought of failure, of the nightmare abomination from before. The chains trembled, tightening around the sword. Alice gasped as the blade bent under the pressure.
"No—don't fight me!" she cried.
"I'm not!" Kaison shouted, but already the construct was fracturing, splitting down the middle with a scream of shattering steel.
With a deafening snap, it exploded once more into shards of light.
Kaison staggered back, chest heaving. Alice dropped to one knee, her face pale.
Benson stepped forward slowly. He knelt, picked up a glowing fragment of the shattered construct before it faded, and let it slip through his fingers like ash.
"Better," he said softly. "Far better. But still incomplete. Do you know why?"
Neither answered.
"Because you still cling to fear," Benson said. His eyes, for once, softened, though his tone remained grave. "Alice fears losing control. Kaison fears being bound. Both fears bleed into your fusion, and the construct shatters under the weight."
He straightened. "To move forward, you must not only trust each other—you must confront yourselves."
---
### Later That Night
The dormitory halls were quiet, bathed in the dim glow of lanterns. Kaison sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his seal glowing faintly on his arm. The mark pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, a reminder of his failures.
A knock came at his door.
When he opened it, Alice stood there. For once, her posture wasn't perfect. She looked almost… uncertain.
"May I come in?" she asked softly.
Kaison blinked, then stepped aside.
She entered, glancing around the simple room. Her eyes fell on the small potted plant on his windowsill—a struggling little thing with crooked leaves.
"You keep this alive?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Trying to. Found it half-dead in the garden. Figured it deserved a chance."
Alice touched one of the leaves gently, her expression unreadable. "Strange. I never thought you'd care about something like this."
Kaison frowned. "Why not?"
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she sat on the chair by his desk, folding her hands in her lap. "You were right yesterday. About me."
Kaison blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I do try to control everything. Discipline… order… it's all I've ever known. If I let go, even for a moment, I'm afraid everything will fall apart."
Her voice wavered just slightly, the first crack in her perfect facade.
Kaison sat across from her. "And you think that makes you strong?"
She looked up, meeting his gaze. "It makes me survive."
Silence stretched between them. For once, Kaison didn't argue. He just nodded slowly.
"I guess," he admitted, "I'm the opposite. I've spent so long fighting chains that I forgot they can hold things together too."
Their eyes met, and for a moment, something passed between them—an understanding, fragile but real.
Alice looked down at his plant again, then stood. "Tomorrow. Let's try again. Not as enemies. Not as rivals. But… together."
Kaison felt the faintest smile tug at his lips. "Deal."
---