CHAPTER 45 — Stormthread's First Trial
The training grounds behind the Verdant Hall were quiet at dawn—quiet in the way a storm sometimes was, holding its breath before deciding whether to break the sky open.
Mist clung low to the grass. The practice rings glowed faintly with ward-light, their runes stirring like waking fireflies. At the far end of the field stood Elowen Thorne.
She didn't move.
She didn't need to.
Her presence alone pressed through the morning air like the weight of an ancient tree leaning close enough to listen.
Aiden swallowed hard as Stormthread approached in a loose line—Runa armored and steady; Myra rolling her shoulders like she'd sprinted the whole way; Nellie clutching her satchel and trying to look less nervous than she felt; the pup trotting proudly between them, tail flicking sparks.
Aiden's storm stretched under his ribs, not flaring… just alert.
Ready.
Watching her.
"Stormthread," Elowen said, her voice carrying across the grass. "Today you learn what it means to move as more than individuals."
Myra nudged Aiden, whispering, "See? We're already important enough for ominous openings."
Aiden elbowed her lightly. "Please don't pick fights with the Headmistress."
"Not planning to," Myra whispered. "But if she starts throwing trees at us, I'll complain."
Runa didn't even crack a smile. She was studying Elowen like a puzzle she intended to solve with her hammer if required.
Nellie took a deep breath, her Verdant mark pulsing faintly under her collarbone.
Elowen lifted one hand.
The ground responded.
Vines shot upward from the ring—thick, braided, alive—coiling into the air like serpents listening for a command. Runes burst along the grass in a perfect circle, igniting with a soft whum of power.
Aiden felt his storm pull tight like thread.
His team stiffened beside him.
Elowen's gaze sharpened.
"The Academy formed you into a Cohort because you are volatile," she said. "Because you react to one another. Because each of you changes the others' strength."
Her hand dropped.
The ring sealed with a pulse of green-blue light.
Aiden stepped forward instinctively—then froze.
A second figure stepped out of the mist behind Elowen.
Not human.
Not beast.
A construct of root and stone, tall as a carriage, shaped vaguely like a humanoid but with bioluminescent lines running across its bark-like chest. Its face was smooth, masklike, eyes two pale discs of glowing green.
The ground thudded when it walked.
Even Runa's jaw tightened.
"Elowen…" Aiden said slowly, "what exactly are we fighting?"
"A replica," Elowen said. "A controlled echo of the Thorn-Beast from your trials."
Myra made a choking sound. "Perfect," she whispered. "Great. Love that for us."
"It will not kill you," Elowen added.
"That 'not' doesn't feel very solid," Myra muttered.
"It will, however," Elowen continued, "punish sloppy cooperation."
The construct knelt—roots digging into the earth—then sprang, landing inside the ring with a crash that rattled Aiden's teeth.
The runes flared.
The battle began.
Aiden's storm leapt instantly, crackling along his arms. Myra darted right, knives flashing. Runa planted herself left, hammer rising like a falling mountain waiting to happen. Nellie moved back, hands glowing with a faint green shimmer, threads of Verdant Sight weaving instinctively toward each teammate.
The pup's fur rose along its spine, a low growl building.
Elowen's voice cut through the shift of power:
"Show me," she said, "why the world has begun whispering your name."
Aiden exhaled.
Lightning answered.
The construct lunged.
Stormthread moved—
Not perfectly.
Not together.
But for the first time…
As one.
The construct hit the ring floor like a falling tree.
Roots slammed forward in a spear formation—three at once—aimed directly at Aiden.
He didn't think.
He didn't need to.
Lightning erupted across his skin in a hard snap, throwing him sideways as the roots cracked stone where he'd stood. Heat rolled through his ribs, storm snarling like it wanted to tear the creature apart.
"Aiden—left!" Myra shouted.
He pivoted.
Just in time.
A wooden limb swung toward his head with the sound of splitting timber. Aiden ducked low, sparks flaring off his shoulders as he slid across the rune-lit grass.
Myra was already there.
She sprinted straight up one of the practice posts, flipped over the construct's arm, and threw two knives down in a silver-blur arc. They struck bark—hard—but didn't pierce. The creature's mask-face turned toward her with a mechanical twitch.
"Oh great," Myra said breathlessly as she landed. "It's learning I exist."
Runa answered before the construct could.
Her hammer hit its knee joint with a sound like collapsing stone.
The creature staggered, vines recoiling in pain-like spasms.
Aiden's storm flared in response, surging toward the opening Runa had created.
But Elowen's voice cut through him sharply:
"Storm-control, Aiden!"
He froze mid-step.
The storm didn't.
It slammed forward, spilling lightning across his arms, coiling to launch straight into the construct's exposed core.
If he released it fully—
He could break the creature.
He could also break everything else in the circle.
"No—no—" Aiden hissed, forcing the storm downward, inward, compressing the raw snap of power into something contained. His breath shook, knees dipping under the effort.
The pup barked sharply at him—not scolding.
Echoing.
Helping.
Lightning along Aiden's spine steadied by a fraction.
Nellie stepped forward, voice strained. "Thread-link stabilizing—Aiden, don't push alone!"
He felt her Verdant Sight flicker through the mental static—green threads weaving between the four of them. Not controlling. Just anchoring.
The storm pulled back… barely.
The construct recovered.
It pivoted, limbs cracking, and sent a shockwave of root-whips exploding outward in a full circle.
"Myra, duck!" Nellie cried.
Myra dropped flat.
Runa threw herself over Nellie, armoured shoulder catching two lashes that would've torn the healer's ribs open. The impact knocked Runa sideways, but she grunted, braced, and shoved herself upright.
Aiden wasn't so lucky—one root cracked across his back, sending him stumbling forward with a gasp.
The storm snarled in pain.
He steadied again, breath hissing between his teeth.
"You good?" Myra asked.
"No," he said honestly.
"Perfect. Keep not being dead."
The construct rose to its full height—runes glowing across its chest like lit sigils. It raised both arms, roots twisting together into a single massive spear of bark and stone.
It aimed at Nellie.
Aiden saw it in slow motion.
Her breath caught. Her mark flickered. Her hands lifted too late.
"No you don't," Runa growled.
She surged forward—hammer clenched—not to block, not to parry—
To intercept.
Her weapon slammed into the spear mid-thrust.
The shock shook the entire ring.
The roots cracked, splintered, recoiled from the force. The construct staggered back two steps, its movements glitching from the sheer impact Runa had delivered.
But Runa's arm buckled.
She dropped to one knee.
"Runa!" Nellie scrambled toward her.
"I'm fine," Runa gritted out. "Hit it. Now."
Myra didn't need further prompting.
She launched herself upward, sprinting along the construct's retreating arm. Her feet found purchase in bark, her body twisting, flipping—until she landed on its shoulder.
"Hi," she said cheerfully.
The construct turned its glowing mask-eyes toward her.
She stabbed both knives into the soft joint beneath its collar.
The creature howled—a deep, wood-splitting groan.
Aiden moved.
Lightning surged, not outward but along his muscles—speed, focus, precision. He reached the construct's opposite side just as it reeled from Myra's hit.
"Aiden—now!" Myra yelled.
He grabbed one of its upper roots.
His marks flared.
Lightning travelled through his grip in controlled arcs—just enough to weaken, not destroy—burning away the outer layer of hardened bark.
"Runa!" he called.
Runa understood instantly.
She rose, breath hard, and hefted her hammer for a single, brutal swing.
The impact hit the exposed joint Aiden had cracked.
The entire arm tore free.
The construct staggered, unbalanced, vines whipping in wild arcs.
Myra leapt clear and rolled.
Nellie reached Runa's side instantly, Verdant magic already stitching green light along the fresh bruise blooming under Runa's armor.
"That was stupid," Nellie whispered.
"That was effective," Runa corrected.
Aiden didn't have time to respond. The construct recovered faster than expected—its remaining arm splitting into dozens of vine-whips.
They all aimed at Aiden.
The storm lunged to meet them.
"Aiden!" Nellie's voice cracked in fear.
He didn't dodge.
He didn't run.
He planted his feet.
Lightning coiled around his arms like gauntlets.
He shouted—not in rage, but in control—forcing the storm into a tight arc that spread just wide enough to intercept the vines.
Lightning met vines with a crack that lit the entire ring blue-white.
The vines recoiled as if burned.
Aiden exhaled through gritted teeth, fighting the instinct to let the power expand beyond what he could manage.
Elowen watched.
Silent.
Judging.
Waiting.
The pup barked, sparks flying, and leapt at Aiden's heel—its tiny storm synchronizing with his in electric pulses.
The construct reeled again, one knee bending—
It was open.
"Myra—finish it!" Aiden called.
Myra didn't hesitate.
She sprinted up the remaining good arm, slid across its chest like stepping on fallen logs, and drove both knives into the vine-bundle at the center of its mask-face.
The rune glow sputtered.
Cracked.
Then—
The entire construct collapsed, roots unwinding like severed tendons.
Its body hit the ground in a thunderous crash, shaking dust loose from the rafters.
Silence.
Aiden's storm eased back into his ribs with a slow, tired pulse.
Myra dropped to the grass, panting and triumphant.
Runa lowered her hammer, still protecting Nellie without thinking.
Nellie exhaled a breath she'd been holding since the first strike.
The pup pranced in a circle, proud as a lightning king.
Elowen stepped forward.
Her gaze swept each of them—sharp, assessing, unreadable.
Then she spoke.
"Better," she said. "Not perfect. But better."
Aiden's lungs finally loosened.
Myra flopped onto her back. "Better sounds like praise."
"It is not," Elowen said.
Runa coughed. "She means 'barely acceptable.'"
Elowen didn't deny it.
But her eyes—just for a heartbeat—softened.
"You moved as four," she said quietly. "Not as one storm. But as four storms braided together."
Aiden felt that settle in his chest like warmth.
A rare thing.
A good thing.
Elowen clasped her hands behind her back.
"Rest," she said. "The next construct won't be so forgiving."
Myra sat bolt upright. "I'm sorry, the WHAT?"
Elowen did not answer.
She simply raised her hand—
And every rune on the training grounds lit up at once.