By the time the sun climbed high enough to glare off the ocean's surface, my body was already heavy.
Arms sore. Core tight. Lungs still burning faintly from hours of fighting water instead of air.
I waded out of the shallows and let myself drop onto the sand, sword laid carefully beside me. Salt clung to my skin. My hair dripped steadily, forming a small dark patch beneath me.
I didn't collapse.
I rested.
There was a difference.
The market wasn't far—Newoaga never really slept—and I moved through it quietly, bare feet on warm stone, wrapped in a simple cloak. Vendors were loud. Colors everywhere. Fried fish, sweet bread, citrus, spice. Life going on without a care for knights or monsters.
I bought something simple. Bread. Smoked fish. Water.
Then I returned to the beach and sat where the waves reached just far enough to brush my feet.
I ate slowly.
The ocean stretched endlessly before me—blue layered over darker blue, moving without effort, without tension. No hesitation. No fear. No restraint.
"I want to be as free and vast as you," I said quietly.
The waves rolled in, gentle and steady, breaking at my toes.
For a moment—just a moment—it almost felt like they were listening.
Thirty minutes passed like that.
The ache faded from sharp pain into something usable.
I stood.
And immediately got smacked upside the head.
"OW—!"
I staggered half a step, spun around, hand already moving to my sword before I stopped myself.
Pink hair. Grin too wide to be innocent.
Seraphyne.
"What was that for?" I snapped.
She laughed, hands clasped behind her back. "That was for disappearing at dawn without telling anyone."
She puffed her cheeks. "Rude."
I exhaled slowly. "I needed to train."
"I figured," she said easily. "That's why I came."
Before I could respond, another voice cut in from behind her.
"That really does sound like you."
Kai leaned against a driftwood post, arms crossed, smirk already in place. "You vanish, train yourself half to death, then act surprised when people follow."
I glanced past them.
They were all there.
Liam stretching his shoulder.
Theon rolling his neck, eyes already studying the water.
Aelira kneeling at the shoreline, fingers brushing the surface like she was feeling its temperature.
Kazen tightening the strap on his bow.
Varein standing barefoot in the sand, calm as ever.
Arion cracking his knuckles nervously.
Liraeth resting her shield against her leg, plasma flickering faintly around her gauntlet.
And behind them—
Instructor Aldred.
Arms crossed. Watching. Amused.
"We figured," Kazen said, "if you're going to train in the ocean, you're not doing it alone."
"I didn't ask—"
"And that's why we came," Liam cut in.
Aldred stepped forward, boots sinking slightly into the sand.
"I'm here to oversee," he said. "Not interfere. If this turns reckless, I stop it."
I looked at them all for a long moment.
No one was forcing their way into my space.
They were choosing to be here.
"…Do what you want," I said finally, turning back toward the water. "Just don't slow me down."
Seraphyne grinned. "There it is."
We entered the water together.
At first, it was controlled.
Basic strikes. Short-range movements. Learning how resistance altered timing and force. Aldred barked corrections from the shore while we practiced submerging, striking, resurfacing.
Steel moved slower here.
Aura behaved differently.
Fire sputtered. Wind bent unpredictably. Earth weighed you down if you weren't careful.
They struggled.
Every one of them.
Kai overextended and spun sideways, cursing when water filled his mouth.
Liam's footing vanished the moment a wave shifted.
Theon's earth reinforcement dragged him downward like an anchor.
Seraphyne's speed meant nothing when the water refused to part for her.
Arion flailed more than he struck.
Only Aelira adapted quickly—ice gave her stability, surfaces to push from.
And me?
I wasn't good.
But I was better.
I moved first.
Not faster—cleaner.
Short swings. No wasted force. Letting water carry my blade rather than fighting it. Using kicks to reposition, not propel.
Varein noticed.
His movements adjusted.
Then Kai.
Then Kazen.
Slowly, awkwardly, the class began to adapt.
Sparring followed.
Controlled—but real.
I took hits. Everyone did.
Water dulled impact but punished mistakes brutally. Breath timing mattered more than strength. Panic was death.
By sundown, we were all exhausted.
Floating. Leaning. Gasping.
The sky burned orange above us.
No one spoke.
Not because we were done—
—but because we understood something new.
The water would carry us without asking permission.
We drifted there—spread out, barely moving—letting the waves do the work our muscles couldn't anymore. My arms felt like stone. My legs twitched when I tried to kick. Salt clung to my lips, my eyelashes.
Above us, the sun sank lower, painting the horizon in slow-burning colors. Orange. Gold. Faint violet.
I floated on my back, chest rising unevenly, staring up.
Not because I was done.
Because something had settled.
Underwater… everything was honest.
No fancy footwork. No dramatic swings. No brute-force dominance.
Just control. Timing. Awareness.
If you panicked, you lost.
If you wasted movement, you lost.
If you relied on strength alone, the water took it from you.
I turned my head slightly.
Kazen was floating nearby, arms spread, eyes closed. Mist curled lazily off his shoulders, evaporating the moment it touched the sunlit air. He looked peaceful—until he inhaled too deeply and immediately choked on seawater.
He erupted, coughing violently. "—WHY— is the ocean— SALTY—"
Varein snorted so hard he sank under for a second, reappearing with a sharp gasp. "You just noticed?"
"It's aggressive," Kazen wheezed. "Unnecessarily aggressive."
Aelira treaded water a few meters away, her movements precise even in exhaustion. Frost clung faintly to her fingertips, cooling the water around her. "You swallowed half the sea," she said flatly. "It's retaliating."
Kai rolled onto his stomach and paddled lazily. "If we die here, I want it written that I was undefeated on land."
"You lost three sparring rounds," Liam said, floating upright like a pole. His golden aura flickered weakly, more stubborn than functional.
Kai waved him off. "Water rounds don't count."
Seraphyne suddenly dunked under without warning.
There was a brief, ominous pause.
Then she popped up directly behind Theon and splashed him full-force in the face.
Theon sputtered. "—HEY—!"
She laughed, bright and unrepentant, pink fire hissing harmlessly across the water's surface. "You looked too serious!"
"I was breathing," he snapped, wiping water from his eyes. "That's important!"
Liraeth floated nearby with her shield under her arms, using it as an improvised raft. Plasma flickered weakly along its edges, crackling every time a wave bumped it wrong.
"…If I shock myself again," she muttered, "I'm blaming all of you."
Arion, clinging desperately to a piece of driftwood he had absolutely stolen from somewhere, raised a trembling hand. "I would like to formally apologize to fish."
No one responded.
Because we understood.
This wasn't play.
It wasn't just training.
It was adaptation.
I pushed myself upright in the water, treading slowly. My muscles protested immediately, but I ignored them.
"A little more." I said.
A few heads turned.
Not sharply. Not dramatically.
Just… attentive.
"We didn't come out here just to only fight one battle in the ocean," I continued, voice calm, steady. "Next time, it won't wait for us to catch our breath."
Kazen nodded slowly. "Currents change."
"Enemies don't fight fair," Aelira added.
"And panic spreads faster in water," Varein said quietly.
I looked around at them.
Exhausted. Bruised. Smiling faintly.
"Tomorrow," I said, "I'm going again."
There was a beat.
Then Kai groaned loudly. "I hate how reasonable you sound."
Seraphyne paddled over and flicked water at my face. "You better not disappear at dawn again."
I caught the splash on my forearm. "No promises."
She narrowed her eyes. "I'll drag you out of bed."
Aldred's voice carried from the shore. "If you drown each other, I am not writing the report."
We all glanced toward him.
He stood there with his coat slung over one shoulder, arms crossed, watching us—not as an instructor correcting form, but as someone measuring growth.
"Out," he added. "Before one of you sinks and decides it's poetic."
Grumbling followed—but no arguments.
We swam back together, slower now. Less urgency. More awareness of where everyone was.
When my feet finally touched sand, I exhaled, long and steady.
Water streamed down my arms. My sword felt heavier than before.
But it also felt… familiar.
Behind me, Kazen suddenly slipped on wet sand and went down hard with a very undignified sound.
There was a pause.
Then laughter.
Uncontrolled. Loud. Real.
Kazen lay there staring at the sky. "…I was pushed."
"No you weren't," five voices said at once.
I shook my head, a faint smile tugging at my mouth as I turned back toward the ocean.