The sanctuary morning did not rise gently for Severin.
He had watched Aelindra groan and tussle in her sleep all night, her training yesterday had seemingly taken a toll on her, Arveth advised her to rest for the day. Despite her refusal, she was completely knocked out, and it didn't seem like she would be getting up anytime soon.
Where Aelindra's dawn had broken warm and golden on the day of her training, Severin's emerged sharp and cold, as though the forest itself knew the nature of the gift it meant to confront him with.
The air tasted metallic, different from the soft hum that usually drifted between the ancient trunks. Today the magic felt alert. Watching. Waiting.
Severin rolled his shoulders; tension coiled beneath his skin like a live wire. He hadn't slept. Something inside him had been uneasy ever since Mira's off-hand revelation the night before:
Command.
And fire.
Two gifts.
Two burdens.
Neither of which he understood.
Part of him wanted to turn back. Ignore it. Pretend the knowledge changed nothing.
But the truth loomed the moment he stepped into the training clearing.
Arveth stood waiting exactly where he had last seen him, tall, broad-shouldered, with the quiet stillness of a mountain carved from moonlight. Today his hair was tied back, revealing the faint scar that cut across his jaw and disappeared beneath his collar.
Even standing motionless, Arveth radiated authority, not oppressive, not overwhelming, but inevitable. A force the forest bent around.
Severin exhaled through his nose.
"Morning," he muttered.
Arveth's eyes, deep with specks of gold swirling in them lifted toward him. "Are you ready?"
"No," Severin said bluntly. "But I'm here."
A brief, almost invisible smile pulled at the corner of Arveth's mouth. "Good. Readiness is a myth. Presence is what matters."
Severin huffed. "You sound like Mira."
"Mira learned from me."
Severin blinked. "…Ah."
Arveth turned and began walking toward a wide, circular clearing bordered by stones etched with faint runes. But unlike Aelindra's training circle, this one felt… heavier. Like the air thickened the closer he got.
Severin's pulse quickened.
"What's this place?" he asked.
Arveth didn't slow. "The Circle of Bearing."
"Sounds ominous."
"It is."
Great.
_______
The Circle of Bearing
When Severin stepped inside, the air constricted, not painfully, but unmistakably. Like he'd crossed into a space that had rules older than himself. Older than the forest. Older than kingdoms.
For a heartbeat, he thought he imagined it. But as his boots touched the boundary of the training circle, something ancient brushed against his awareness, like invincible fingers trailing along the edges of his mind, testing, probing, acknowledging.
He swallowed.
This place felt alive.
Not in the way the forest breathed or the way magic hummed beneath the earth. This was something else, an awareness that judged without words.
He straightened, suddenly conscious of his own breathing.
"What does this circle do?" he asked, voice low.
Arveth turned to face him. "It tests the weight of your will."
Severin frowned. "My… will?"
Arveth nodded. "Command is not a gift of force. It is not shouted orders or raw dominance. It is the ability to impose your will upon the world, without breaking under the weight of imposing it."
Severin opened his mouth, closed it.
Somewhere behind that explanation, he felt an echo of his childhood, shouting warnings before danger arrived, pullimg people out of harm's way without knowing hy he knew.
"…That's vague."
"And yet accurate."
Severin sighed. "Can we skip cryptic and get to the part where I actually learn something?"
Arveth stepped closer, unbothered by his sarcasm. "Very well. Tell me, when you were younger, when danger arose, what happened?"
Severin stiffened. The question hit too close, too sudden. "Why does that matter?"
"Answer."
He clenched his jaw. "I… felt things. Felt danger before it came. Or… felt people shift around me. Like my mind was reading movements faster than anyone else."
"And what did you do?"
"I reacted. Moved people. Told them what to do."
"And they listened."
Severin swallowed.
"Yes."
Arveth's expression didn't change, but something in his eyes sharpened. "Not because you were loud. Not because you were older or stronger. But because their minds yielded. You imposed order on chaos without understanding what you were doing."
Severin looked away.
"I didn't impose anything. They just… followed."
"You commanded," Arveth corrected. "Instinctively."
Severin flinched at the word.
He didn't like it.
Command.
It sounded like a leash. A crown. A curse.
"So what now?" he asked quietly. "You teach me how to control people?"
Arveth's voice was firm. "No. I teach you how not to."
Severin blinked.
Arveth continued, stepping back. "Because an untrained bearer of Command does not choose who they influence. The power chooses for them. Emotion becomes pressure. Fear becomes force. Anger becomes compulsion."
Severin's stomach dropped. "You mean..."
"Yes," Arveth cut in. "Left unchecked, your gift will make people bend to your will whether you want them to or not."
Severin went still.
An icy, sick feeling twisted low in his chest.
"That's, no. I don't want that."
"Which is why you must train," Arveth said. "Command is not a weapon. It is a responsibility. And if you do not master it, it will master you."
Severin exhaled shakily.
"Okay," he said quietly. "Where do we start?"
Arveth lifted his hand.
"With the truth."
______
STEP ONE: HOLDING THE SELF
"Close your eyes," Arveth said.
Severin obeyed.
The darkness behind his eyelids wasn't restful, it pulsed with the weight of being watched, judged, measured. He could feel the circles attention on him, almost like a second heartbeat pressing at the back of his skull.
"Tell me what you feel."
"Nothing."
"Try again."
Severin clenched his fists, annoyed. "I said I feel."
"Your irritation is a feeling," Arveth interrupted calmly. "Begin there."
Severin gritted his teeth. "Fine. I feel irritated."
"Why?"
"Because this feels pointless."
"Why?"
"Because standing here trying to name feelings is not training."
"Why?"
Severin opened his eyes, glaring. "Because I need to learn to control power, not analyze my emotions like some..."
His voice cut off abruptly.
Arveth hadn't moved.
Not a step.
But the air around Severin changed, pressing inward, heavy, slow. Not crushing… but unavoidable. A presence settled around him, coiling like thick fog.
Severin's heart thudded painfully.
"W-what?"
"Your gift responds most strongly when you deny what you feel," Arveth said evenly. "Emotion fuels Command. Pretending emotion does not exist invites loss of control."
Severin swallowed hard.
"So, I have to… feel everything?"
"No," Arveth said. "You must acknowledge everything. Feeling and indulging are not the same. Suppression gives your gift room to slip its leash. Acknowledgment keeps your hand on the rope."
Severin breathed in slowly.
"Okay," he murmured. "I'm… frustrated. Overwhelmed. And… scared."
Arveth's voice softened. "Afraid of the gift?"
Severin hesitated.
"…Afraid of what it might make me."
The pressure around him eased immediately.
Severin exhaled shakily.
Arveth nodded once. "Good. You've taken the first step."
Severin frowned. "Which is?"
"Holding yourself steady while looking inward. Command begins with the self, not the world."
It made sense.
Annoyingly.
"Alright," Severin muttered. "What's step two?"
Arveth lifted his hand.
"Step two is learning the boundaries of your voice."
_______
STEP TWO: THE VOICE THAT BENDS
Arveth led him to a series of tall wooden pillars arranged in a semi-circle. Strange symbols were carved into them, some glowing faintly.
"These pillars respond to intent," Arveth said. "Not magic, not volume, not authority. Intent."
Severin raised a brow. "So, what do I do? Ask nicely?"
"No," Arveth said calmly. "You try to command them."
Severin blinked. "The wood?"
"Yes."
"…This is ridiculous."
"Is it? If your gift only affected the willing, it would be harmless. But it can turn stone. Silence a storm. Alter the trajectory of a blade mid-air." Arveth stepped back. "So, command the pillar."
Severin sighed and faced the nearest one.
He crossed his arms.
"Move."
Nothing.
"Move," he repeated, louder.
Nothing.
He glanced at Arveth. "See? Pointless"
"Again," Arveth said.
Severin glared at the pillar. "Move."
Nothing.
He growled under his breath. "I said, move."
His voice dropped into something low, frustrated, resonant
The air rippled.
The pillar quivered.
Just for a second.
Barely.
But enough.
Severin froze.
Arveth's eyes narrowed with approval. "There. Did you feel it?"
Severin swallowed. "Yeah. It felt like… like pushing with my voice."
"A good description. And now you understand the danger."
Severin turned slowly. "That was dangerous?"
"You weren't speaking to the pillar," Arveth said. "You were speaking through it. Anyone standing between you and your target would have bent to that command, physically or mentally."
Severin's stomach tightened.
"Okay," he murmured. "How do I stop that?
"You learn to separate command from desire," Arveth replied. "You must be able to want something without instinctively forcing the world toward it."
Severin breathed out slowly.
"Show me."
And Arveth did.
________
THE LESSON OF RESTRAINT
Arveth stepped beside him, still and grounded.
"Your gift listens not to your mouth," he said, "but to the pressure behind your thoughts. Your will sinks into your tone. You must learn to empty your voice of force."
"How?"
"By saying something you want deeply, without imposing anything."
Severin stared at him.
"That sounds impossible."
"It begins simple." Arveth gestured. "Say: 'I want you to move.' But do it without intent."
Severin frowned. "Why do I want you to move?"
"You don't. That's the exercise."
Severin inhaled.
"…I want you to move."
Arveth did not move.
Good.
"Again," Arveth said. "Empty your voice further."
Severin repeated the phrase, each time softer, less charged, less connected to desire.
By the tenth repetition, something clicked, an internal release he couldn't name.
A loosening.
A shift
Arveth nodded. "That is the neutral voice. You must learn to speak from that place even when provoked."
Severin exhaled. "And when I do use the gift?"
Arveth's eyes sharpened. "Then you must do so on purpose. Never by accident. Never from emotion."
Severin swallowed.
"I don't know if I'll ever be able to do that."
"You will," Arveth said simply. "Because you must."
________
STEP THREE: THE FIRE BENEATH
Severin blinked. "Fire? I thought today was about Command."
"It still is," Arveth said. "But your gifts are twins, born of the same root. Fire responds to emotion. Command responds to will. One fuels the other. One endangers the other."
Severin stiffened. "Meaning?"
"Meaning if you lose control of one, you lose control of both."
The air suddenly felt hotter.
Severin took a slow step back. "And what, what does the fire feel like?"
Arveth lifted his palm.
"Come here."
Severin hesitated and obeyed.
Arveth placed two fingers against Severin's sternum.
A spark.
Not literal flame, but heat.
A pressure building in his chest.
Like a breath that wasn't air.
A pulse that wasn't heartbeat.
Severin gasped. "What, what is that?"
"Your fire," Arveth murmured. "Dormant. But listening."
The heat expanded, slow, deep, alive.
Severin gripped Arveth's wrist instinctively. "Wait, stop, I can't..."
"Yes, you can," Arveth said quietly. "Breathe. Do not fear it."
"It's... burning"
"It is not," Arveth said. "Fire only burns when uncontrolled. This is awakening, not destruction."
Severin shook, breath catching.
"It's too much."
"No," Arveth said, voice steady as bedrock. "You have withstood worse."
Severin's breath stuttered.
Arveth leaned in slightly. "You survived your childhood. You survived battles, loss, fear. You survived learning to protect yourself alone. This is not too much for you."
Severin's eyes stung unexpectedly.
He hated how much those words hit.
But slowly, slowly, he heat steadied.
Centered.
Coiled beneath his ribs like a sleeping dragon settling its wings.
Severin exhaled shakily. "It's… calmer."
Arveth nodded. "Because you are."
Severin swallowed. "So, fire needs what? Emotional control?"
"No," Arveth said, shaking his head. "It needs emotional honesty. Fire consumes lies, even lies you tell yourself."
Severin stared at him.
Suddenly the heat made sense.
Because Severin had been lying to himself for years.
"Okay," he whispered. "What now?"
Arveth stepped back.
"Now," he said, "you learn the hardest part."
_________
STEP FOUR: WILL AGAINST WILL
Arveth gestured toward the circle of pillars again, except this time, he walked to the center and faced Severin.
Severin froze.
"No," he said instantly. "Absolutely not. I'm not practicing Command on you."
"You must."
"I could hurt you."
"You won't."
"You can't know that!"
Arveth stepped closer, eyes unwavering. "I do."
Severin felt the pressure building in his chest again, the fire responding to fear, the will responding to instinct.
"Severin," Arveth said calmly. "Look at me."
Severin did.
"This gift does not make you a tyrant," Arveth said softly. "It makes you responsible. You fear becoming something dangerous. Good. But fear without practice leads to chaos. You cannot avoid your gift. You can only shape it."
Severin swallowed hard.
"Say the words," Arveth instructed. "Command me to step back."
Severin shook his head. "No."
"Say them."
"Arveth, I'm serious"
"Say them."
Severin's jaw clenched.
His voice cracked.
"Step back."
Nothing happened.
Arveth didn't move.
Severin exhaled in relief. "See? I can't"
"Again."
Severin gritted his teeth.
"Step back."
A faint ripple moved through the air, barely noticeable but Arveth didn't budge.
"Again."
Severin's breath tightened.
"Step. Back."
The air rippled stronger, Severin felt it vibrate through his bones, but Arveth stood unmoved, expression steady.
"Your will is scattered," Arveth said. "You are trying to command with fear, not with choice."
"Because I am scared!"
"Then acknowledge it."
"I did!"
"Not enough."
Severin's chest heaved.
Arveth's voice softened.
"Say the truth aloud."
Severin shook his head. "No. Not while you're"
"Say it."
Severin's throat worked.
"I'm afraid of what I'll become."
The pressure in the air loosened slightly.
Arveth nodded once. "Now say it again without shame."
Severin's voice broke.
"I'm afraid of what I'll become."
The fire in his chest softened, warming instead of burning.
Arveth folded his arms. "And now, the command."
Severin inhaled.
This time he didn't force it.
Didn't push.
Didn't fear.
He simply chose.
"Step back."
The air bowed outward.
Arveth took a single, clean step back.
Severin's breath stopped.
"…I did it."
Arveth gave a rare, small smile.
"You did."
________
THE FINAL LESSON: BALANCE
By the time the sun dipped low, Severin was drenched in sweat, chest heaving, mind raw and exhausted.
His fire simmered quietly now, not suppressed, not unstable, just present.
His will felt centered, grounded.
And Arveth studied him with a look Severin didn't know how to read.
"…How bad was I?" Severin asked, half-joking.
Arveth shook his head. "You were more controlled than I expected."
Severin blinked. "Seriously?"
"You fear your gift so deeply that you fight it even when you should not. That fear kept you from harming anyone for years. But it will also keep you from mastering yourself unless you confront it."
Severin looked down.
"So today helped?"
"Yes," Arveth said. "Because today you learned the truth."
Severin swallowed. "Which is?"
Arveth stepped closer, eyes steady.
"That your gift is not dangerous."
Severin looked up sharply.
"You are only dangerous when you run from it."
Severin went still.
Something inside him, something tight and hidden and long-suppressed, uncoiled.
He exhaled.
Slowly.
Deeply.
"…Thank you," he said quietly. "For not treating me like a weapon."
Arveth's expression softened, though only slightly.
"You are not a weapon," he said. "You are someone who has carried power alone for too long. But you are not alone here."
Severin's chest tightened.
He nodded, unable to speak.
Arveth rested a steady hand on his shoulder, a grounding weight, firm and reassuring.
"Tomorrow," he said, "you will learn to use Command without voice. And fire without flame."
Severin blinked. "Both?"
"Yes."
He groaned. "You're trying to kill me."
Arveth's mouth twitched. "If I wanted to kill you, you would know."
Severin snorted weakly.
Arveth stepped back.
"Rest," he said. "You will need it."
Severin nodded again, breathing evening out.
The fire hummed under his ribs.
The will settled behind his ribs.
And for the first time,
He didn't fear either.
As he walked back toward the sanctuary, the night air felt different not because the world had changed, but because he had finally begun to see the shape of the power inside him.
And tomorrow?
He would begin learning who he could become with it.