The morning sun filtered through the stained-glass windows of the academy hallways, casting shimmering rainbows across the polished floors. I walked quietly, sandwiched between Cassian, Lyra and Alira ---the new friend we met at the cafeteria. We were heading to the elemental training grounds for the first time, where students would begin learning to harness their innate power.
Excitement buzzed in the air, but in my chest was a quiet tension. I had awakened the Earth element, but it still felt foreign—like it belonged to the world more than to me. I didn't know how to command it yet, only that it pulsed under my skin, dormant and waiting.
We stepped onto the vast training field. It was sectioned into quadrants—stone, flame, wind, water—and beyond them, practice dummies, obsidian platforms, and spellcasting rings glowed faintly with protective enchantments. Dozens of students stood in formation, each grouped by their affinity.
Cassian gave me a nod as he moved toward the lightning quadrant, his silver hair, catching the sun like polished steel. Alira steps were confident as she walked to her group, her light-element mark glowing faintly at the back of her neck, while Lyra, as stoic as ever, folded her arms.
I remained behind, watching as the Earth group formed. My boots felt heavy. The instructor, a burly man with a stone gauntlet on one arm and a beard streaked with gray, raised his voice.
"Name?" he asked, barely glancing at me.
"Aether," I replied.
His eyes narrowed slightly. "You're the one who came in late… with the old dean's recommendation."
I nodded.
He motioned with his gauntleted hand. "Let's see what you've got."
I swallowed my nerves and stepped forward. Around me, other Earth students lifted small rocks or hardened patches of soil into crude shapes. One boy formed a shield, another stomped and made the ground ripple beneath his feet. But me? I could only feel the pressure. The earth responded to my presence, yes—but not like it did to theirs. It felt deeper. Slower. Older.
"Focus," the instructor said. "It's not about force—it's about resonance. Earth responds to patience and will."
I closed my eyes. Beneath my feet, the stone whispered. Not in words, but in feeling—in weight, in stillness, in memory. I reached inward, pulling on that thread of power coiled inside me. It was reluctant at first, stubborn as bedrock—but then, it surged.
The ground trembled. Cracks spiderwebbed beneath me, and then, slowly, a pillar of stone rose from the earth, smooth and solid, about my height. Gasps sounded around me. I opened my eyes, breathing heavily. The pillar stood firm.
"Well," the instructor said after a moment. "You're raw, but you have potential."
I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath until Lyra clapped softly from the light section, her expression calm but encouraging. Even Cassian smirked across the field and gave me a thumbs-up.
The rest of the lesson was spent refining techniques. I learned to call up walls of dirt, to sense vibrations in the earth, and even attempted a basic stone skin technique—coating my arms in hardened rock for defense. It felt like wearing armor carved from the world itself.
By the time the sun dipped toward the horizon, I was exhausted. My hands were scraped, and my shirt clung to me with sweat and dust, but I had learned something vital: I was not weak. Just unshaped.
As we walked back toward the dorms, Lyra brushed a bit of dried mud from my sleeve. "You're learning fast."
"I'm trying," I said, my voice hoarse.
Cassian stretched beside me, electricity crackling faintly in his wake. "Next time we spar, don't hold back. I want to see what a stone wall can do against a lightning bolt."
I grinned. For the first time since I arrived at the academy, I felt like I belonged.
That night, as I collapsed into bed, the mark on my chest pulsed faintly under my shirt. The spiral burned with quiet light, and in my mind, a dream stirred—something ancient, veiled in fog and flame, reaching toward me.
But that was for another day.
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