Chapter 13: The Weight of Trust
Adrian woke with bruises blooming across his ribs and a dull ache in his jaw. The apartment was a mess—chairs overturned, stones scattered, blood dried on the floor. He lay there for a long time, staring at the ceiling, listening to the hum of the city outside.
He had survived. Barely.
The man who had attacked him was gone, but his words lingered: "You're not ready. But you will be. And when you are, others will come."
Adrian sat up slowly, wincing. He gathered the focus stones, placing them back in their pouch. Their faint hum was comforting, but it wasn't enough. He couldn't keep doing this alone. Every fight left him weaker, every night of training left him more exposed. Elias had warned him, but Adrian hadn't truly listened. Not until now.
He needed help.
Later that day, he found Elias waiting outside his building, leaning casually against a lamppost like he had all the time in the world. Adrian almost walked past him, but Elias's eyes caught his, sharp and knowing.
"You look worse," Elias said. "Guess someone paid you a visit."
Adrian clenched his fists. "You knew this would happen."
"I told you it would," Elias replied. "You're a beacon. Hunters can't resist."
Adrian's chest tightened. "Then teach me. Don't just warn me. Show me how to fight back."
Elias studied him for a long moment, then sighed. "You're stubborn. That's good. But stubbornness without discipline is suicide. If I help you, you listen. No shortcuts. No rushing. You follow what I say, or you die."
Adrian nodded. "I'll listen."
Elias motioned for him to follow. They walked through the crowded streets, blending into the flow of people. Adrian kept his hood up, pendant hidden, but he couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on him. Every shadow felt alive, every passerby a threat.
They stopped at an abandoned warehouse on the edge of the city. The place smelled of rust and dust, but it was quiet, hidden. Elias pushed open the door and stepped inside. "This will do," he said. "No rooftops, no glowing lights for the world to see. Just you, me, and silence."
Adrian set the stones down, forming a circle. Elias watched, nodding. "Good. You're learning."
They trained for hours. Elias showed him how to guide Qi without forcing it, how to balance pain with patience, how to strike with precision instead of desperation. Adrian struggled, sweat pouring down his face, muscles trembling, but he kept going.
"Control," Elias said, his voice steady. "That's the difference between living and dying. Power without control is just noise. And noise gets you killed."
Adrian gritted his teeth, forcing the Qi through his body. It burned, but he steadied it, guiding it carefully. For the first time, he felt like he wasn't drowning. He was learning to swim.
When they finally stopped, Adrian collapsed onto the floor, exhausted but alive. Elias sat nearby, watching him. "You've got potential," he said quietly. "But potential attracts predators. You need allies. People you can trust."
Adrian frowned. "Trust gets people killed. If I tell anyone, they'll be targets too."
Elias shook his head. "Trust is risk, yes. But isolation is death. You can't fight the world alone. Sooner or later, you'll need someone at your back."
Adrian lay there, staring at the ceiling. He thought of Marco, of his grandmother, of the people he had already lied to. Could he trust them with the truth? Could he risk dragging them into this hidden war?
The pendant pulsed faintly against his chest, steady and calm.
Adrian closed his eyes, whispering to himself. "I'll survive. I'll rise. But I won't do it alone."
Elias nodded, as if he had heard. "Good. Then maybe you'll live long enough to see what cultivation really means."
The warehouse fell silent, but Adrian felt the weight of trust pressing down on him. Heavy. Dangerous. Necessary.