A week passed in a blur of pain and persistence.
Every morning, Violet dragged herself from bed with muscles that screamed protest. Every evening, she returned home barely able to walk.
But each day, she lasted a little longer. Held the squat a few seconds more. Completed the footwork patterns with slightly better form.
Kari never praised. Just noted improvement with a curt nod and pushed harder.
The physical training was brutal, but Violet had expected that.
What she hadn't expected was the mana training.
***
It started on the eighth day.
Kari led her to a different part of the forest—deeper, where old growth trees blocked out most of the sunlight. The air was cooler here, thick with the smell of moss and damp earth.
In the center of a small clearing stood a sapling. Barely knee-high, thin as Violet's wrist, its few leaves struggling against the encroaching winter.
"Sit," Kari commanded.
Violet sat, cross-legged, facing the pathetic little tree.
"Today we begin mana control," Kari said. "Real control, not just channeling for combat spells."
She gestured at the sapling. "Your task is simple. Make it grow."
Violet blinked. "What?"
"You heard me. Use your mana to encourage growth. Ice magic is destruction—cold that stops, that freezes, that ends." Kari's yellow eyes were steady. "But mana itself is life. It flows through everything. Learn to use it to nurture instead of destroy."
"I don't know how—"
"Then figure it out." Kari turned to leave. "I'll return in three hours. If the tree hasn't grown, we repeat tomorrow. And the day after. Until you succeed."
Her footsteps faded into the forest.
Violet stared at the sapling.
Make it grow. How am I supposed to—
She took a breath, centering herself the way Kari had taught. Reached inward for her mana.
The cold answered immediately—eager, responsive, hungry to be used.
But that wasn't what she needed.
She pushed past the ice magic, searching deeper. Below the cold, there was... warmth? No, not warmth exactly. Just... energy. Raw and shapeless.
She tried to grasp it.
It slipped away like water through fingers.
An hour passed.
Violet tried channeling mana directly at the sapling. Nothing happened.
She tried visualizing growth. Still nothing.
She tried speaking to it, feeling foolish even as the words left her mouth. "Please grow? I really need you to grow."
The sapling remained stubbornly unchanged.
Two hours passed.
Sweat beaded on Violet's forehead despite the cold. Her reserves were depleting from constant unsuccessful attempts.
There has to be a way. Kari wouldn't give me an impossible task. Would she
She thought about everything she'd learned. About mana circuits. About how magic flowed through the body like blood through veins.
What if it's the same for the tree?
She placed her palms against the thin trunk, closing her eyes.
This time, instead of trying to force mana into the tree, she just... felt.
And there it was—faint as a whisper, but present. The tree's own flow. Sluggish with winter's approach, barely moving through wood and root.
"It's dying," she realized. "Or close to it. Not enough strength to survive until spring."
She opened her eyes and looked at the struggling leaves.
"Kari chose this tree specifically. It's a test, but not the one I thought."
This wasn't about making something grow unnaturally fast.
It was about understanding. About connection.
About learning that power could nurture as well as destroy.
When Kari returned, the sapling looked exactly the same.
She studied it without expression. "Tomorrow, then."
***
The next day, Violet returned to the clearing.
She sat. Placed her palms against the trunk. Felt for that faint flow.
This time, instead of trying to force anything, she just... added to it.
The tiniest trickle of her own mana, blending with the tree's natural rhythm.
The sapling's flow strengthened slightly. Just barely. But it was something.
For two hours, she maintained that gentle connection. Feeding life into slowly dying roots.
When she removed her hands, the tree looked the same.
But she could feel the difference. The flow was minutely stronger than before.
"Progress," Kari said when she returned. "But not enough."
***
Day three. Day four. Day five.
Each morning, Violet sat with the sapling. Each session, the connection came easier. The flow grew steadier.
But visible growth? None.
Her physical training continued alongside. Footwork patterns became reflexive. The squats no longer made her legs give out immediately.
But the tree remained stubbornly small.
Vael visited on the sixth day, watching her sit motionless before the sapling.
"What are you doing?" he whispered.
"Learning," Violet said without opening her eyes.
"Looks boring."
"It is." But she kept her palms pressed to the bark anyway.
***
Day seven.
Violet's hands found their familiar position on the trunk. The connection established immediately now—no searching, no fumbling. Just instant recognition.
The tree's flow had strengthened considerably over the week. No longer sluggish and dying, but steady. Almost healthy.
She fed her mana in slowly, maintaining the rhythm she'd learned.
Minutes passed. An hour. Two.
Then—
Something shifted.
Not dramatic. Not sudden. Just... change.
Violet's eyes snapped open.
The bark under her palms felt different. Warmer. More alive.
She pulled back and stared.
The sapling had grown.
Not much—maybe an inch taller, the trunk barely thicker. But three new buds had appeared on previously bare branches.
And as she watched, one of them unfurled.
A leaf. Fresh and green despite winter pressing close around them.
Then another bud opened. And another.
Within minutes, the sapling that had been bare and struggling was covered in new growth—small leaves catching the filtered sunlight, reaching toward warmth.
At the very top, a cluster of buds swelled rapidly. Violet held her breath as they began to open.
Flowers.
Tiny, delicate, white petals that shouldn't exist in this season.
They bloomed fully—seven perfect blossoms that filled the clearing with subtle, sweet fragrance.
Violet sat frozen, hardly daring to breathe.
"Well."
Kari's voice came from behind her. Violet hadn't even heard her approach.
The snow leopard moved closer, studying the transformed sapling with those sharp yellow eyes.
"You succeeded," Kari said simply.
Violet found her voice. "I... I did?"
"Look at it." Kari gestured at the blooming tree. "A week ago, it was dying. Now it thrives. That's your doing."
She crouched beside Violet, reaching out to touch one delicate petal with surprising gentleness.
"This is what I wanted you to understand," Kari said quietly. "Power isn't just destruction. It's not just the ability to hurt, to freeze, to kill." Her hand dropped. "True mastery means knowing when to nurture. When to protect. When to give life instead of taking it."
She looked at Violet directly.
Violet's throat tightened. "I understand."
"Do you?" Kari's head tilted slightly. "Because this—" She indicated the blooming tree. "—is harder than any combat spell. Destruction comes naturally to most. Creation requires patience. Understanding. The willingness to work slowly toward something that might not show results for days."
She stood, brushing dirt from her knees.
Kari turned to leave, then paused.
"And Violet? You did well."
The words were quiet. Almost grudging.
But they warmed Violet more than any fire could.
After Kari left, Violet sat for a while longer, just looking at what she'd accomplished.
The tree stood taller now, proud despite its small size. The white flowers bobbed gently, catching afternoon light.
She'd made something grow.
In a world that seemed determined to destroy everything she cared about—where poison rotted her from within, where enemies lurked behind kind smiles, where fate itself tried to strangle hope—
She stood finally, her body protesting the movement after sitting so long.
But as she walked back toward the refuge, something had changed.
Not just in the tree.
In her.