CHAPTER 45B — Stormthread's First Trial
The training ground woke up.
Not like it had a moment ago.
This time it felt personal.
Runes flared along the fence in a chain, light rippling around the ring like a thrown stone across a pond. The earth under Aiden's boots vibrated. Old practice dummies—straw and wood—shuddered, then fell apart in clumps as if something invisible had cut their strings.
The air thickened.
Roots pushed up through the dirt at the ring's center.
Not one construct.
Four.
Aiden's breath hitched.
Each shape was smaller than the first guardian—but leaner, sharper. One formed a long-armed, narrow-bodied thing twice Myra's height, its limbs whittled into spearpoints. Another hunched low and wide, bark thick as armor plates. A third rose as a tangle of thin roots and whipping vines. The fourth wasn't a body at all—just a pulsing knot of thorn and light hovering above the ground.
"Four?" Myra said weakly. "Why are there four?"
"Because you are four," Elowen said.
That was somehow worse.
Runa rolled her shoulders, adjusting her grip on the hammer. "Good," she said. "Fair."
Nellie made a small noise. "In what world is this fair?"
"In ours," Runa said.
[TRAINING PROGRAM: STORMTHREAD COHORT] [PHASE TWO — INDIVIDUAL PRESSURES] [OBJECTIVE: SUSTAIN TEAM INTEGRITY UNDER SPLIT THREAT]
The System text flickered at the edge of Aiden's vision, sharp and unforgiving.
Elowen's voice carried across the ring.
"This is not a competition," she said. "They will try to separate you. They will not succeed unless you agree to it."
The vine-tangle moved first.
It lashed outward suddenly, whips cracking toward Myra from three directions at once.
Aiden felt her muscles tense a half-second before she moved.
"Myra!" he barked.
"I see it," she snapped back.
She dropped low, sliding across the dirt on one knee as the vines sliced above her. One wrapped around her wrist anyway, thorns biting. She hissed and rolled, knife flashing—cutting herself free in a burst of sap and splinters.
Before she could regain her feet, the tall, spear-limbed construct lunged.
Runa was there, hammer coming up in a brutal vertical block.
Spear met steel with a screech.
Runa grunted. "Tall one is mine."
The low, broad construct slammed both arms into the ground.
The ring shook.
Cracks split the dirt in jagged lines, racing outward in a circle.
Nellie stumbled.
The floating thorn-knot pulsed.
A bolt of concentrated force snapped from it—not pure energy, not pure Verdant—something in between. It hit near Nellie's feet and exploded into a burst of twisting green bramble that tried to surge up around her legs.
Aiden moved without thinking.
He grabbed her arm and yanked her free before the brambles closed.
"Thanks," she gasped.
"Stay close," he said.
"That's the plan!"
The vine-tangle spread out, whips covering almost half the ring now. The spear construct harried Runa, forcing her to block, block, block—every hit ringing her bones. The low brute thing lumbered toward Aiden and Nellie, each step making the ground jump.
The floating knot…
Its pulsing rhythm synced disturbingly with the beat of Aiden's storm.
He did not like that.
"Elowen," he called, eyes not leaving the constructs. "We're supposed to… what, specialize? Pair off?"
"Decide," she said. "I am not fighting for you."
The pup snapped at the air, fur standing on end, lightning sparking between its teeth.
Aiden inhaled.
"Okay," he said. "We treat it like a real fight."
"I was under the impression it already was," Myra panted, dodging another vine lash.
"No," Aiden said. "Out there, if we scatter, we die. So we don't scatter."
He tightened his grip on Nellie's arm. "We anchor midline. Runa front. Myra edge. We take them from the center out."
"Myra on the edge," Myra said, dodging another strike. "I feel so typecast."
But she moved.
Runa planted her feet.
"On me," she growled, glaring at the spear-construct. "I'll hold the line."
The low brute barreled toward them.
Aiden stepped forward, storm rising, shaping just enough charge through his legs to spring sideways at the right moment. The creature's arm slammed down where he'd been, cracking the earth.
"Myra—knees!" he shouted.
"On it!"
Myra sprinted along the broken line the brute's strike had carved, using the uneven ground as leverage. She lept, flipped, and slashed her knives across the backs of its knees—where the bark was thinner and crisscrossed with load-bearing roots.
Wood split.
The brute roared—if a tree could roar—and dropped to one knee.
Runa took that as the only invitation she needed.
"Up," she grunted.
Aiden grabbed Nellie and tugged her aside as Runa charged past, hammer swinging in a full-body arc that smashed into the brute's lowered shoulder. The impact knocked it sideways, clearing space in the ring's center.
"Hold," Aiden gasped. "We stay within reach—Nellie!"
She was already moving.
Not away.
Into the cleared center.
She stood with her back to Aiden's, eyes wide but steady, hands lifting.
Verdant light flickered along her fingers.
"I can't throw big spells," she said, voice shaking. "I'll black out if I try. But I can… nudge."
A vine whip snapped toward Myra.
Nellie's hand flicked.
A thread of green light zipped along the vine—
And it yanked half a pace too short, missing Myra's shoulder completely.
Myra blinked. "Okay, that's cheat-code helpful."
"Don't make me laugh," Nellie whimpered. "I'm concentrating."
The floating thorn-knot flared brighter.
It shifted targets.
Its next pulse slammed straight into Runa's chest.
She staggered back, breath whooshing out like she'd been punched by a giant.
"Runa!" Aiden shouted.
She dropped to one knee, hammer digging into the ground to hold herself up. The front edge of her armor glowed faintly where the blast had hit, runes along the plates flickering.
"I'm fine," she gritted. "It hits… through. Not at the surface. Like a shock straight to the bones."
"Shock?" Aiden muttered, storm prickling. "That's my job."
The thorn-knot pulsed again.
This time toward Aiden.
The storm rose. Too eager.
He didn't block with power.
He blocked with discipline.
Lightning snapped through his ribs, trying to flare outward and meet the incoming pulse. He clenched down, forcing the charge into a tight loop around his chest instead of letting it surge wild.
The incoming force hit him like a shove from inside his bones.
He rocked back, boots skidding.
But he stayed upright.
[IMPULSE CHECK: PASSED] [STORMBOUND DISCIPLINE +1]
The text flickered and faded.
"Myra," he said through his teeth. "That floating one—can you get to it?"
She assessed the chaos in a heartbeat.
"Vines on the left, stabby nightmare on the right, stompy doom in front?" She flipped a knife around her fingers. "Yeah. Give me three seconds of distraction."
"Nellie," Aiden said. "Can you trip the vines without tripping Myra?"
"I can try."
Runa inhaled, bracing. "I will keep spear-thing angry," she growled, pushing to her feet. "It likes me anyway."
The spear construct lunged again, stabbing with a flurry of thrusts that would have skewered anyone slower.
Runa wasn't slower.
She met each strike with hammer, forearm, shoulder—using her weight and armor to deflect instead of dodge. Every impact rang out, a battle-drum that held the construct's attention.
Vines whipped toward her exposed side.
Nellie flicked her hand.
A thin vine snagged on a thicker one a breath too early, tangling itself rather than slashing.
Runa snorted. "Thank you."
"Don't look at me," Nellie squeaked. "Hit it!"
Runa did.
Her hammer slammed into the spear construct's hip joint, fracturing the connection. It staggered, balance off.
Aiden used the opening.
He stepped forward, storm coiled tight in his muscles, and slammed both palms into the brute's already-wounded shoulder.
Lightning did not explode.
It threaded.
Thin, surgical bolts ran along its root-structure, burning through the bindings Myra's earlier cuts had exposed. Bark cracked. The entire arm went limp.
The brute tried to lift it.
Failed.
It overbalanced and crashed down on its side, half of its chest pinned under its own dead limb.
"Myra!" Aiden shouted.
She was already moving.
She sprinted up the brute's slanted body, using its bark like uneven stairs, then launched herself off its shoulder toward the floating knot.
It pulsed once, sensing her.
Too late.
Myra twisted in the air, knives flashing, and hurled one straight through the center of the glowing tangle.
For a heartbeat, the knife hung there, embedded.
A ring of light rippled outward from the impact point.
The knot's pulsing stuttered.
Then—
It blew apart into harmless petals of gleaming Verdant light that drifted toward the ground and dissolved before they touched.
Myra landed in a rough roll, skidding across the dirt. "Ha! That's right! Nobody floats menacingly at my healer and gets away with it."
"Your… healer?" Nellie echoed, cheeks flushing even through the strain.
"You're welcome," Myra said.
The vine-tangle hissed.
At least, that's what it felt like.
Every whip flared, striking inward toward the center now. Toward Nellie.
Aiden saw the pattern.
"They're reading you!" he shouted. "They know you're the linchpin!"
Nellie's hands shook.
Threads of green light shot from her fingers, intercepting some of the vines, slowing others—but one still slipped through, whipping straight toward her face.
The pup leapt.
It hit the vine midair, a small ball of furious lightning.
Electricity crackled over the root, burning it black. The vine recoiled in spasms, flailing like a severed limb.
The pup landed, skidded, snarled.
Lightning flared down its tiny spine—not wild bolts, but a tight, controlled glow that matched the rhythm of Aiden's breathing.
"Good," Aiden whispered, even as he lunged to scoop it back before more vines could get ideas. "Good job."
The vine-tangle shifted, losing some of its reach as several whips hung charred and limp.
Runa slammed her shoulder into the spear construct, wrestling it backward with brute force, using her weight to keep it off Aiden and Nellie.
"Myra!" Runa grunted. "Thin one—eyes!"
"On it!"
Myra darted along the edge of the tangle, knives slicing through nodes where several vines joined. Each cut reduced the construct's coordination, turning some of its whips sluggish, others slack.
Nellie took one shuddering breath.
"Okay," she muttered. "Okay. Fine. We're doing this then."
She stepped forward—not back.
Her Verdant mark flared.
"This is a training ground," she whispered. "You're still part of the Hall. You don't get to hurt on your own."
She lifted both hands.
Green light spread from her fingers in a low, rippling wave, racing across the ring floor. It touched the broken vines, the fractured joints, the cut points Myra had made, the lightning-burned roots Aiden had carved through.
But instead of healing the constructs—
It bound them.
Verdant threads threaded through the damage, tightening, constricting. The brute's damaged arm fused in place—useless. The spear construct's cracked hip joint locked, freezing its stance. The vine-tangle's cut nodes cinched, several whips drawing inward against themselves.
The constructs strained against the bindings.
They didn't break.
"Now!" Nellie cried, voice cracking.
Aiden didn't need further explanation.
He let the storm ride his muscles—not explode out—and flashed forward, slamming his shoulder into the brute's chest.
It toppled fully, runes dimming as it crashed.
Runa, grinning fiercely, brought her hammer down in a final, echoing blow on the spear construct's core.
It froze, light flickering, then went still.
Myra sliced the last active vines from the tangle, stepping back as they collapsed like dead snakes, the central mass sagging under its own weight.
One by one, the runes on the constructs dimmed.
The ring fell quiet.
Aiden's storm… didn't.
Not right away.
It paced in his ribs, still keyed on defense, still keyed on protect, protect, protect—
He forced his breathing to slow.
In. Out.
He felt Runa's steady presence at his right.
Felt Nellie's trembling relief at his back.
Felt Myra's wild, battered triumph at his left.
Felt the pup, small and crackling, pressed against his ankle.
The storm listened.
And settled.
[TEAM STATUS: STABLE] [COHESION: HIGH] [STORMTHREAD COHORT — PHASE TWO: COMPLETE]
The constructs sagged into true stillness.
Their bodies crumbled—not into splinters, not into dust—but into small motes of green and blue light that drifted upward, then outward, sinking into the training ground's runes.
Like the Hall was reclaiming them.
Aiden bent over, hands on his knees, chest heaving.
Myra flopped down cross-legged and immediately started poking at a forming bruise on her wrist. "Ow. Worth it. Still ow."
Nellie just stood there for a second, swaying.
Runa caught her elbow before she tipped.
"Sit," Runa said.
"You always say that," Nellie mumbled, letting herself be eased to the ground.
"You always need it," Runa replied.
The pup plopped into Nellie's lap like it lived there now. She buried both hands into its fur, soaking in the tiny warmth and static.
Elowen stepped into the ring.
This time she didn't look at them like a storm she was studying.
She looked at them like a storm she had expected.
"You made choices," she said. "Better ones."
Aiden swallowed. "We almost lost control."
"You almost always will," she said. "That is what living with power means."
Her gaze moved to each of them in turn.
"To you," she said to Myra, "for once, you did not pursue the most dramatic kill at the cost of the team's center."
Myra opened her mouth to protest, then shut it. "…You're not wrong."
"To you," she said to Runa, "you did not plant yourself and dare the world to move you alone. You planted yourself where you could be moved with them."
Runa frowned, as if unsure if that was praise. "…It seemed… correct."
"To you," she told Nellie, voice softening, "you used your sight to bind instead of break yourself against distance."
Nellie's eyes grew wet. "It hurt less," she whispered. "Doing it that way."
"It will always hurt," Elowen said. "But hurt is not the same as harm."
Then she looked at Aiden.
"And you," she said, "did not try to be the storm for them. You let them be storms beside you."
Aiden didn't know what to say.
So he didn't say anything.
He just stood there, breathing, feeling his storm sit down inside him like a tired, satisfied animal.
Elowen inclined her head a fraction.
"Stormthread Cohort," she said. "Phase two is complete."
Myra blinked. "How many phases are there?"
Elowen's mouth curved, just slightly.
"As many as the world decides to throw at you," she said. "The Academy will simply try to keep you alive long enough to meet them."
She turned toward the Hall entrance.
"Rest," she added. "Eat. Argue. Laugh. Do whatever it is you four do when I am not looking."
She paused at the edge of the ring.
"And be ready," she said, without turning back. "The next trial won't come from wood and rune. The marsh does not wait for our lesson plans."
Wind stirred the training ground.
Somewhere beyond the walls, thunder muttered over the Outer Marsh—too distant to be a storm.
Too familiar to be anything else.
The pup's ears pricked.
Aiden felt his storm answer that far, rolling echo.
He glanced at Myra, Nellie, Runa.
They met his look, one by one.
"We'll be ready," he said quietly.
His storm agreed.
The world beyond the walls did not care.
But it was going to have to learn their names anyway.