The ash sample sat in a labeled bag on Dr. Aris's counter. He was already examining it under a microscope, muttering to himself about "cellular degradation" and "ectoplasmic residue."
Elijah sat on a stool nearby, the adrenaline from the hunt still fading. His hands had stopped shaking, but his mind kept replaying the moment—the lunge, the impact, the way the creature dissolved.
"You're thinking too much," Solomon said from the doorway.
"I killed something."
"It was already dead. Ghouls are reanimated corpses. You put it to rest." Solomon walked to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of water, tossing it to Elijah. "First one's always the hardest. Second one's easier. That's the dangerous part—when it becomes routine."
"Does it?" Elijah asked. "Become routine?"
Solomon's expression didn't change, but something in his eyes went distant. "For some."
Dr. Aris looked up from his microscope. "Fascinating. This specimen shows traces of the same dimensional instability I detected in your blood, Elijah. The ghoul was a native of Level 2, but it crossed through the same barrier breach that nearly killed you. The prince's presence in your system seems to be… harmonizing with the residual energy." He scribbled notes. "I'll need more samples."
"You're not poking me with needles all day," Elijah said.
"Of course not. Just some blood, some tissue, maybe a spinal fluid—"
"No."
Solomon hid a smile. "Come on. Training starts now."
---
They moved to a large room at the back of the safehouse, its floor padded with old gym mats. Weapons lined one wall—blades, batons, crossbows, and things Elijah couldn't identify.
"The prince gave you speed and reflexes," Solomon said. "But if you rely only on instinct, you'll get killed. Instinct reacts. Training plans."
He tossed Elijah a wooden practice knife. "Show me what you know."
Elijah caught it. He'd gone through basic defensive tactics at the academy—enough to pass, not enough to excel. He settled into a stance.
Solomon moved. His practice knife was a blur; Elijah barely blocked the first strike, stumbled on the second, and hit the mat on the third.
"Again."
They drilled for two hours. Elijah learned to trust his new speed, to let the wolf's instincts guide his blocks and counters. By the end, he could hold his own for a full minute before Solomon disarmed him.
"Better," Solomon said. "You're a quick study."
"My mother always said I was an old soul." Elijah wiped sweat from his forehead. "Does that help?"
"It means you're patient. That's rare." Solomon put the practice knives away. "Tomorrow, we work on tracking. Tonight, you rest."
Elijah walked back to his cot, exhausted but alert. He lay down, expecting to fall asleep immediately, but the image of Seraphina's face kept intruding. Something about her visit had felt off. The way her eyes had lingered on the journals. The too‑quick smile.
You're being paranoid, he told himself. But the wolf stirred faintly, as if in agreement with his suspicion.
---
Easter Eggs
· 🔪 Wooden practice knife – A staple of training montages in Buffy (Giles with the quarterstaff) and Arrow (though that's a different genre).
· 🧠 Dr. Aris wanting samples – A nod to Walter Bishop's endless fascination with biological anomalies in Fringe.
· 👨🏫 "Old soul" comment – Reinforces Elijah's character trait and echoes the advice from his mother in Chapter 1.
· 😴 Elijah's suspicion – A classic "the hero senses something is wrong" moment, common in The X‑Files and Supernatural.