Vesperyn's hands slipped.
He caught himself at the last second, fingers clawing into the bark as his body slammed against the trunk. The impact rattled his teeth.
He sucked in a breath—and nearly gagged.
Sweat ran into his eyes, stinging. His lungs felt too small, like they couldn't pull in enough air no matter how hard he tried. The weight strapped to his back dragged him downward, a constant reminder that gravity was winning.
This wasn't training. it was torture.
Vesperyn pressed his forehead against the tree and waited for the dizziness to pass. His legs shook uncontrollably. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, loud and uneven.
Below him, Harlen's voice cut through the haze.
"Keep moving."
Vesperyn let out something between a laugh and a curse. "You ever hear of rest days?" he called down, voice cracking.
"No."
Of course not.
He forced his eyes open and climbed again. One hand. Then the other. The bark scraped skin raw.
By the time he reached the marked notch in the tree, his arms were screaming. He hooked one elbow over the branch and dragged himself up, chest heaving.
Below, Harlen checked the old metal watch hanging from his neck.
"Two more rounds," Harlen said calmly.
Vesperyn stared down at him, disbelief bleeding into anger. "You're joking."
Harlen didn't look up. "You fall, you start over."
'This isn't training,' he thought. 'This is punishment.'
He dropped back down, boots hitting the dirt hard enough to send a jolt up his spine.he stayed there for a moment, hands on his knees, breathing hard.
"Why?" he asked finally, without looking up. "Why are you pushing me like this?"
Harlen glanced at him, then back to the forest. He nodded once.
"Good question."
He set the watch aside and leaned against the trunk of the tree, arms folded.
"Now you see that more than half the Echoes roaming this region," he said, "were children."
Vesperyn looked up.
"Children who awakened and lost control on the same day," Harlen continued. "Didn't last an hour."
He gestured vaguely toward the trees. "Most of them weren't stupid. Some were talented. Some were loved."
Vesperyn waited.
"So why?" he asked again.
Harlen shrugged. "Because power doesn't wait. It shows up all at once. Doesn't care if you're ready or not."
He tapped the side of his head with one finger. "If your mind isn't steady, it cracks. Trauma makes it worse. Fear finishes the job."
There was no drama in his voice. He sounded like he was explaining weather.
Vesperyn stared at the dirt for a few seconds.
"And me?" he asked. "You think I'm weak?"
Harlen studied him for a moment, then shook his head.
"No."
That answer didn't help.
"I think," Harlen added, "you're already standing on unstable ground."
Vesperyn didn't respond. Images came uninvited — his mother's voice, his brother's hand slipping away, the sound of something heavy hitting the floor.
Harlen noticed the pause.
"This isn't about making you strong," he said. "It's about keeping you awake."
"Awake?"
"When things hurt. When you're scared. When you want to check out and let instinct take over."
He picked up the watch again.
"Pain keeps you here," Harlen said. "Exhaustion tells the truth."
Vesperyn let out a slow breath.
So that was it.
Not training to win fights.
Training to not disappear.
He turned back toward the tree.
"Two more," he muttered. "You're sick."
Harlen didn't bother replying.
"Climb," he said.
And Vesperyn did.
After the final climb, Vesperyn collapsed face-first into the dirt.
He didn't bother moving. The ground was hard, gritty, alive with things crawling where they shouldn't be—but none of that mattered. His chest rose and fell in shallow pulls of air, each one scraping his throat.
Five minutes, he thought.
Just let me not exist for five minutes.
Footsteps approached, slow and unhurried.
"And don't forget your promise," Vesperyn said into the ground, voice muffled. "You said if I finished three rounds without stopping…"
Harlen stopped a few steps away.
"…you'd tell me why you're living out here," Vesperyn finished. He turned his head just enough to look up. "No dodging."
Harlen snorted. "You didn't finish."
"Just reminding you ."
Harlen considered him, then shrugged. "Fair."
He sat down against the tree, joints creaking faintly. "let me ask you something."
Vesperyn groaned. "If this is another condition—"
"Why are you so interested in me, child?" Harlen asked.
That made Vesperyn pause.
He rolled onto his back, staring up through the branches. Sunlight filtered down in broken patches, too bright to look at directly.
"Don't back out now," Vesperyn said. "You agreed first."
Harlen grunted. "I didn't say I was backing out."
"Good."
Harlen leaned back, folding his arms. "You remind me of trouble," he said finally.
Vesperyn turned his head toward him. "That's not an answer."
"Yes," Harlen agreed.
He glanced at the boy, then away again.
Harlen leaned back, folding his arms.
Thinking he has questions to but he didn't raise them
'Because he has seen what happens when you pull at wounds that haven't closed, and in this current age, he can't afford risk like that