Chapter 111
Training began before sunrise.
Not because Kael believed in tradition, but because time was thinner then. Softer. Easier to bend without tearing. Mist clung low over the riverbank, curling around stones and reeds as Sang Sang stood barefoot in the cold mud, sleeves tied back, hair bound tight.
Kael watched her in silence.
"Again," he said.
Sang Sang inhaled, steadying herself. She extended her hand toward a fallen leaf drifting on the river's surface. Her brow furrowed. The air around her fingers trembled faintly, rippling like heat over stone.
The leaf stuttered.
Then sank.
She cursed under her breath. "I almost had it."
"You hesitated," Kael replied. "You tried to control the result."
"I was controlling it."
"No," Kael said. "You were asking time for permission."
She looked at him sharply. "And you don't?"
Kael met her gaze. "I take."
That answer unsettled her more than any lecture.
Darius watched from a distance, arms crossed. "She's going to break herself at this rate."
Lirien stood beside him, eyes glowing faintly as she monitored the invisible distortions forming around Sang Sang. "She already is. Just not in ways that kill."
Sang Sang straightened, mud dripping from her calves. "If you're going to stand there talking about me, at least say it louder."
Kael almost smiled.
"Again," he said.
This time, Sang Sang did not reach outward.
She reached inward.
She remembered the moment in the chamber—the pressure, the certainty, the way the world had seemed negotiable if she pushed in the right place. She focused not on the leaf, but on the instant it existed.
The leaf froze.
Water flowed around it, rippling, parting, refusing to touch.
Sang Sang's breath hitched.
Kael's eyes sharpened. "Hold it."
She did.
For one heartbeat.
Then the leaf aged.
It browned, curled, and crumbled into dust that scattered across the river's surface.
Sang Sang staggered back, clutching her chest, heart racing. "I didn't mean to—"
"You did," Kael said. "You just didn't understand the consequence."
She stared at her hands. "That felt… easy."
Kael stepped closer. "That's the danger."
The air shifted.
Lirien stiffened. "Movement. South ridge."
Darius drew his blade. "Already?"
Kael closed his eyes briefly, extending his senses. The knot was back—larger now. More deliberate.
"They're not hiding anymore," he said. "They're sending hunters."
The ground trembled faintly.
From the treeline emerged figures clad in layered armor that reflected no light. Their movements were precise, synchronized. Faces were human. Too human. Each one carried a weapon that hummed softly, vibrating at a frequency that made Sang Sang's teeth ache.
"Classification confirmed," one of them said calmly. "Target acquired."
Sang Sang stepped forward.
Kael caught her arm. "Not yet."
"They're here because of me," she said. "Let me—"
"You will," Kael replied. "When you're ready."
The hunters advanced.
Darius charged first, blade flashing as it met the nearest attacker. Sparks flew as metal met something that was not quite solid. The hunter slid back smoothly, absorbing the force, then countered with a strike that warped the air itself.
Lirien raised her hands, runes blazing as she slammed a temporal bind into the ground. The earth glowed, slowing the hunters' movements just enough to matter.
Kael moved.
He did not explode into shadow this time. He flowed.
He stepped between instants, appearing behind one hunter, fingers closing around the back of its neck. With a sharp twist, he severed its connection to the present. The body collapsed, aging a thousand years in a breath before turning to ash.
The others adapted instantly.
Weapons shifted, frequencies changing.
"Countermeasure deployed," one announced.
A pulse ripped outward.
Kael felt it slam into him like a hammer, his vision blurring as his shadow recoiled violently. He stumbled, pain lancing through his skull.
Sang Sang felt it too.
Something inside her reacted.
Not fear.
Anger.
She stepped forward before anyone could stop her.
"Stop," she said.
The word carried weight.
The hunters froze.
Not physically.
Existentially.
Their outlines flickered, frames skipping as if the world could not decide when they belonged.
Kael stared.
"Sang Sang," he warned. "Pull back."
She ignored him.
She focused on the hunters—not as enemies, not as machines, but as moments that should not exist here. She reached for the thread she had felt earlier, the one that hummed beneath everything.
And she pulled.
Two hunters collapsed instantly, their forms unraveling into inert matter. A third screamed as its body desynchronized, half-existing in overlapping seconds before tearing itself apart.
The last hunter turned and fled.
Not running.
Phasing.
Kael reacted instantly, shadow lashing out to seize it—
Too late.
The hunter vanished, leaving behind a faint, lingering distortion that tasted like observation.
Silence fell.
Sang Sang swayed.
Kael caught her before she hit the ground.
Her skin was cold.
Too cold.
Lirien rushed over, hands glowing as she examined Sang Sang's condition. "She overreached. Her temporal signature is unstable."
Sang Sang looked up at Kael weakly. "Did… did I do it right?"
Kael didn't answer immediately.
He could feel it now—the shift. The way the future pressed closer around her, tightening like a noose and a crown all at once.
"Yes," he said finally. "You did."
That frightened her more than praise ever could.
Darius kicked at the ash left behind by the fallen hunters. "They ran."
"They learned," Kael corrected. "That's worse."
Far away, beyond years and wars yet to come, data streamed into waiting minds.
Subject Sang Sang: active combat capability confirmed.
Protector dependency increasing.
Emotional leverage identified.
New simulations branched outward.
Most ended the same way.
Kael alone.
Blood on his hands.
And Sang Sang dead in his arms.
As night fell over the River Province, Kael stood watch beside the fire, staring into flames that burned too steadily to be natural.
Sang Sang slept nearby, breathing shallow but alive.
Lirien approached quietly. "You're changing the pattern."
Kael did not look at her. "I have to."
"And if the future breaks because of it?"
Kael's voice was low, absolute. "Then it was never worth preserving."
Above them, unseen, time listened.
And prepared to strike back.