They returned to the clearing behind the cottage wide, open, and scorched in places from past training. The wind carried the scent of pine and ash. Kian stood at the center, while Chandler circled him with deliberate steps, cane tapping softly against the ground.
"We're starting from the ground up," Chandler said. "Your lightning is loud. Flashy. But space and chaos? They're quieter. Trickier. You'll need balance."
Kian nodded, still feeling the subtle hum in his veins from earlier. "Where do I begin?"
"Resonance," Chandler said. "But not just with the world now with yourself. You need to listen to the storm inside. And to do that, we start with stillness."
Kian frowned but obeyed. He closed his eyes and dropped into a cross-legged position on the singed grass.
"Good. Now slow your breathing. Let your veins settle. Your father's energy is unstable by nature chaotic, electric, violent. Your mother's was layered, spatial, distant. If you can't recognize them inside yourself, they'll tear you in opposite directions when you try to use both."
Kian sat in silence, the rustling of leaves the only sound. For a while, nothing happened.
Then
He felt it. The storm again, but deeper this time like green lightning flickering across a black sea. And under it, pulsing like a strange heartbeat, something slippery and cold. Chaotic. Wild. And wrapped around it all was something quieter, something that bent his senses instead of shocking them. A presence like a folded shadow the void.
His eyes flew open.
Chandler was watching closely. "You saw it."
"Three forces," Kian muttered. "One electric. One like madness. And the last… like distance wrapped in silence."
Chandler nodded slowly. "Good. That's step one. Recognition."
Kian stood again, his hands trembling slightly. "What's next?"
"Now," Chandler said, his voice low, "you stop forcing them. And start learning to call them."
He drew a circle in the dirt with his cane. "Stand here. I want you to let lightning come naturally but then stop it halfway. Don't let it fire. Don't let it escape your control."
Kian focused, drawing from the familiar source. Green light began crackling along his skin.
"Hold it," Chandler said.
The energy surged, demanding release but Kian gritted his teeth and kept it in check. The veins in his arms flared, glowing faintly. Sweat rolled down his brow.
Chandler's voice cut through. "Now, listen beneath it. Try to shift your focus not outwards, not to power, but to the sensation of movement. Feel space itself bend around your core."
Kian's lightning dimmed slightly, and in the flicker of that silence, something twisted just behind his back. The air wobbled space flexing like muscle.
A crack snapped in the air, like reality giving a warning cough. Kian flinched.
"Good!" Chandler barked. "You almost touched the edge. That was space. Now again but slower."
They repeated the process for hours. Again and again. Until Kian's body ached and sparks floated harmlessly from his fingertips.
By the time dusk came, Kian collapsed to one knee, panting but a satisfied grin spread across his face.
For the first time, he hadn't just felt lightning.
He had touched the void within himself.