ESVIAN:
It was a late night, the hour when most men's spirits dulled and their bodies longed for rest. Yet within these walls, my pupil and I pressed on. Training was never bound to the rhythm of the sun—it was bound to will.
The cultivation of Vis through inner discernment was no ordinary discipline. It demanded courage, independence, and the resolve to strip bare the illusions one veiled over the self. To face oneself was to step into a mirror that never lied. Many faltered. Most shattered. A rare few emerged—transformed.
We who succeeded called this state Soulvein—the inner current of becoming. In Soulvein, suffering and pleasure lost their polarity. Pain was no curse, joy no gift; both were threads in the same tapestry. To embrace them together was to stand higher than the average man, beyond his comprehension, beyond his reach. For the masses, it was madness. For seekers of more—it was a herald's call.
I had been lost in these thoughts when something foreign cut through them.
An aura.
It pressed on my senses like a storm behind a door—chaotic, merciful, daunting. Not simply powerful, but contradictory, as if tragedy and vitality had been knotted together and given shape. My chest tightened. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if the demons of old had clawed their way back into the world.
I raised a hand, calmly dismissing my pupil to another chamber. Better he not be present for whatever would step through.
The doors shuddered, then they burst open.
Three figures entered.
Not demons. Not monsters.
A boy, and two companions.
And yet—he carried that impossible aura within him, a singularity that robbed everything it touched.
REED:
"I'm Reed Grant," I announced, louder than I probably needed to. "These two behind me are my companions, Elias and Aeloria. We've come to train, on the recommendation of Paiona!"
I held out the letter she'd given me like a winning lottery ticket. The man at the center—the one with a thick beard streaked white by age—just stared, as if I'd barged in covered in blood. His expression flickered between shock and confusion, and I couldn't tell if he was more upset about the hour or about… me.
Whatever. I was excited. It was bright enough inside the dojo, candles throwing warm light across polished wood. Didn't seem like I was crashing anything.
But then Aeloria moved in front of me, her hand on the hilt of her blade.
"Why are you holding such a hostile stance toward my companion? You're already in a battle position, yet we've done nothing to threaten you."
Battle position? Looked normal to me.
The man's answer made my stomach flip.
"Hurry away from that boy. A demon must have taken his body and is manipulating the two of you."
What?
Before I could argue, Elias stepped forward, calm as ever.
"If you're referring to Reed's presence, I admit, the boy carries an extraordinarily unique power. But I assure you, he is no demon."
So this was that "presence" Aeloria and Elias had mentioned before. Great—already causing problems.
At last, the man—Esvian, apparently—took the letter and scanned it with eyes that were way too serious for this time of night.
"Paiona sent you… to learn healing magic?"
"Esvian, right?" I asked.
"Yes." His gaze lingered, heavy and skeptical. "And you are… Reed?"
"That's me," I said with a grin. "Picked up her letter at the village, and here I am."
But his eyes didn't relax. He was watching me like I was some puzzle he couldn't put together.
At length, he sighed. "If what Elias says is true, you have much to learn about that power of yours—far beyond healing. It is… exciting, in a way, to meet one who carries such an anomaly of energy."
His tone softened, and Aeloria's grip eased from her sword. For a moment, I thought we were in the clear.
But then Aeloria spoke up.
"Now that we've come to an understanding, Esvian, I'd like to gauge your abilities myself before any further proceedings. Care for a duel?" She grinned.
Esvian shook his head with a small smile. "I have no quarrel with your offer, but I'd change the opponent. I'd like to duel the boy." He pointed at me.
…Why me?
"I don't mind," I said slowly, "but why me?"
"Just a hunch. You give off an off-putting aura. But now that I see you're no demon, I'd like to test your battle instincts before deciding whether I'll train you."
Oh. A test. Fine by me.
Elias raised his voice. "Rules first. No killing allowed. Reed is powerful but that energy is untamed. Please forgive him if he slips. If he overwhelms you, Aeloria and I will step in to restrain him."
Esvian stared for a moment, dumbfounded… then laughed. A deep, rolling laugh that echoed through the dojo. "I thought I had seen everything at this point but I guess not. Interesting. Very well, I accept and will heed your warnings."
The Duel
We squared off, Elias and Aeloria giving us space.
Esvian's stance was simple—too simple. There we no gaps, no tells. It was like he'd dissolved into the room itself.
I flooded my body with mana, reinforcing muscles and sharpening my reflexes. This was my second real fight in this world. I wasn't about to embarrass myself.
The moment I nodded ready, he vanished.
No sound. No wind. Just—gone.
Instinct screamed at me to move. I leapt forward, the floor cracking beneath my takeoff. When I spun around, he was exactly where I'd been standing, his hand cutting down in a lethal chop.
"Beautiful dodge, Reed," he said lightly. "I had hoped to finish you in a single strike."
"I won't go down that easily."
I slammed my palm down, recalling Chiara's trick—ice rooting her opponent's feet. If I froze him, one good strike would end it. I lifted my other hand, gathering ice.
"Hup!" Esvian leapt before the frost could form, his body gliding upward like it weighed nothing.
Mid-air. Perfect.
"Ice bullet!" I shouted, firing a shard dulled on both ends .
But he vanished again. The shard exploded against the wall with a splintering crack.
I spun—too slow.
Thud.
My legs were gone from under me, swept aside in a blur. I hit the floor. Esvian stood over me, palm poised above my forehead.
I panicked. Blasted a gust of wind at him—except it whipped back at me, throwing me toward a wall.
"Dammit!"
That rebound… he'd redirected my wind gust back at me. If he could twist my magic against me, I needed a counter.
I pushed my arms toward the wall, firing another gust to kill my momentum. The backlash stopped me midair, dropping me hard to the ground. My chest caved under the impact, but my brain was still racing.
Esvian chuckled, eyes sharp. "Quick learner."
I wheezed, forcing myself up.
Think, Reed. He's faster, smarter, stronger. But not unpredictable. That's my edge.
I hurled a spray of frost across the floor, not at him but at the planks themselves. They glazed white, slick. If he blurred behind me again, he'd slip.
Esvian appeared at my flank, hand slashing toward my ribs. I twisted away, forcing mana into my joints, and slid on my own ice like a skateboarder pulling a trick. His chop missed, crashing into empty air.
I grinned. "Not bad, huh?"
He smirked faintly. "Resourceful. But shallow."
He stomped once. The ice shattered beneath him, fragments scattering like glass.
I cursed.
Next plan.
I drew on the memories I'd stolen from Chiara. The way she shaped ice into chains, spears, barriers. My hands blurred, cobbling together a rough lattice of jagged spikes. It wasn't perfect, not stable, but enough to buy me space.
The shards erupted between us like a wall of teeth.
Esvian didn't stop. He stepped into them. His body twisted, weaving through impossible gaps, his hand grazing the shards without a single cut. Then he was past them, and his palm stopped a hair from my chest.
I froze.
"You improvise well," he said. "But every creation of yours is crude, half-born. They are ideas, not weapons."
I growled, forcing out another gust—this time angled down. The backlash launched me upward, clearing his strike. In the air, I cupped both hands, gathering mana until it burned my veins. A storm of ice, wind, raw force.
"Take this then!"
I unleashed it all at once. A chaotic spiral of elements, no refinement, no structure—just power.
The dojo shuddered. Candles flickered, walls groaned. The storm swallowed Esvian whole.
For a heartbeat, I thought I'd done it.
Then the chaos stilled.
The winds halted mid-scream. Ice fragments hung in the air like stars.
Esvian stood at the eye of it all, calm, his hands forming a seal.
He released my storm—redirected it upward. The ceiling cracked open, shards piercing the night sky before dissipating into frost and air.
My knees buckled.
He was in front of me before I could blink, palm hovering just above my forehead again.
"You lose."
I slumped, sweat pouring, lungs burning.
ESVIAN:
The boy collapsed, but his eyes still burned with defiance. Improvised tricks, reckless power, the raw will to keep trying even when cornered.
Chaotic. Dangerous. Beautiful.
I had seen many pupils chase Soulvein, but few bore the courage to throw themselves into failure with such abandon.
This boy… this Reed… was something else.
Not refined. Not yet worthy.
But with shaping, with guidance—he could become a force no dojo, no order, no nation could contain.
I extended a hand to him.
"Get up, Reed Grant. Your training begins now."