Incomplete Awakening
Kain lay on his back, chest rising and falling painfully, his body marked with fresh bruises layered over fading ones. Cuts stung along his arms. His clothes were torn from Sophia’s strikes. His white hair messy, was damp with sweat, clinging to his face. The droplets shimmered against the morning light, tracing down his cheekbones.
Sophia paused beside him for a moment, she only looked at the young man unconscious at her feet. The reckless determination that drove him to collapse and this strange peace on his face even in failure.
Something slipped through her mask, something she refused to show anyone. Her fingers twitched.
‘Even when he is like this…he looks handsome.’
The thought irritated her, it should not have happened, but it was there undeniably.
His jawline was sharp, his expression, relaxed in unconsciousness, was free of arrogance or malice.
His lavender eyes when open were sincere in a way that unsettled her more than hostility ever did. This was not the Kain she hated nor was it the boy who clung to her as a twisted obsession. This was someone else, growing, struggling, breaking and rebuilding. Someone she did not know.
Sophia exhaled softly, her brows drawing together.
“Tch,” she muttered under her breath.
She crouched beside him, brushing aside a strand of hair stuck to his forehead. It was an unconscious gesture, barely a second long, but Eira saw it and her eyes widening just slightly.
Sophia pulled her hand back instantly, as if burned. She cleared her throat, regaining her composure.
“He needs a healer...”
Eira nodded, but could not suppress the suspicion she had. Sophia ignored it and stood, turning away with stiff dignity.
But as she walked, she felt it again in her chest and she hated how much it refused to go away.
----
Kain lay back against the infirmary bed as the ache in his ribs forced him to settle. His entire body felt like it had been wrung out and thrown against stone. Bandages wrapped his arms, torso, and parts of his shoulder. Every cut and bruise had vanished, but the deep soreness lingered like an echo.
He exhaled.
“Two weeks of pushing myself…I guess my body finally tapped out. Maybe a rest day would not kill me. At this rate, I really might die before the trial...”
Footsteps approached, light but familiar.
The door opened.
Eira stepped in, still in her training attire. Her heterochromatic eyes widened a fraction.
“You’re awake,” she said, voice calm but not unfriendly.
“Barely,” Kain muttered. “I feel like someone dropped a boulder on me.”
He chuckled weakly, which only made my chest hurt.
She walked closer, stopping beside the bed. “How much do you remember?”
He rubbed his temple. “Everything up until…Sophia kicked me in the head….pretty sure that what did it.”
A small exhale slipped from Eira. “Yes...that was it.”
She pulled up a chair and sat.
“But...that’s not the last thing that happened.”
“...What?”
“Kain...you didn’t go down when you fainted.”
“I…didn’t?”
“No.” Her tone was steady, but her eyes betrayed her disbelief. “Your body kept fighting.”
“…Huh?”
“You collapsed for a moment, but then you moved. Not conscious...not aware. It was like…” She searched for the right words.
“Like your something else took over completely.”
Kain said nothing.
“Then Sophia used Mirror’s Edge and you defended against it. The way you moved was impressive but to counter in that situation...to have never seen the move but counter it perfectly”
Kain’s heartbeat thudded in his chest. Eira taking Kain’s silence as a sign to continue.
“You looked like you were in a trance. Like your body recognized the attack before it even happened. Your eyes were unfocused, but every movement was precise.”
She leaned back slight, studying him. As she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.
“I have trained with Sophia for years, and never seen anyone respond like that their first time...it was shocking.”
Kain was deep in thought.
‘Instinct? Intuition? How do I access it? I do not remember anything after getting kicked in the temple.’
Eira watched his expression shift from confusion, fear, disbelief, determination and for a moment, the corner of her lips lifted.
“You’re changing, Kain,” she said softly. “Faster than anyone expected”
He looked up at her. His lavender eyes locked onto hers.
“Maybe...but I rather be informed of these changes rather than find out like this” he admitted.
Eira nodded and proceeded to get up to leave. As she headed towards the door, she looked back and said “Get some rest, we’ll resume the training tomorrow.”
----
The room was quiet again.
The moment the door shut behind Eira, silence filled the warm, heavy, almost suffocating space. Kain stared at the ceiling for a long breath before slowly sitting up. His muscles screamed instantly, dragging him back down.
“…Right. Rest day it is,” he muttered, wincing. A reminder of how far he pushed himself.
But none of that compared to what Eira had said.
He looked down at his hands, bandaged but steady.
‘Mirror’s Edge. The first form of the Celestrian Bladecraft, when combined with Sophia light elemental aura, it surpass the original. The move that defined her early years as a prodigy. A light element thrust combination so fast the naked eye could not follow. Light bending around the blade, dozens of false illusions are created, six or seven real strikes hidden within the storm. A technique meant to overwhelm even seasoned warriors.’
He closed his eyes, letting the memory surface.
‘Nothing.’
Just the sensation of moving as if his body had acted on its own.
Kain exhaled sharply.
“So I defended…and countered that,” he whispered to himself, disbelief and awe mixing in his tone.
‘I know the principle behind it considering how many times its used in the novel. At this point, I know all of Sophia and Eira’s techniques...but to instantly counter it is insane. Reading and imagining something is entirely different from experiencing it firsthand.’
He lowered his gaze to his hands again, palms up, fingers drifting through the air like he was replaying the motion.
“Well,” he murmured, a shaky laugh slipping out, “guess I do have some talent after all.”
‘But it wasn’t exactly talent. It wasn’t skill he earned...not yet. Instinct or trance...whatever it was. It was not something he could summon. It came only at the edge of consciousness, when everything else fell away.’
“I need to know how to access it,” he said quietly, determination settling into his voice. “Not just when I’m unconscious…not by nearly dying.”
His eyes hardened with resolve.
‘If I really have something like that inside me… I’ll drag it out. No blessings. Just a stubborn will to survive, and maybe something buried deeper.’
Kain leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes, letting the throbbing ache in his limbs settle into a dull hum.
‘It cannot wait till tomorrow. I will start tonight’
He had something new to consider. A path forward and he would not stop until he found it.
----
Midnight draped the training grounds in silence, broken only by the dull thud of wood striking wood.
Kain staggered back, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his chin as he attacked the dummy again and again. The wooden longsword rose and fell in uneven arcs, the short blade flashing in tight defensive movements. His arms burned. His legs trembled.
‘Faster...harder...’
An hour passed in a blur of motion and breathless strain. Then his knees buckled.
Kain collapsed onto the cold stone, staring up at the darkened ceiling, lungs screaming for air.
“…This isn’t enough,” he whispered.
He clenched his fist weakly. “There’s no urgency...no sense of danger.”
That was the problem. Training dummies did not kill you. His thoughts snapped into place, sharp and sudden.
‘The golems.’
He forced himself upright and walked toward the far end of the training grounds, where a reinforced iron door sat half-forgotten behind old banners and unused weapon racks. He shoved it open.
Inside stood rows of towering figures.
‘Training golems. They were humanoid in shape but unmistakably inhuman with bodies carved entirely from mana-infused stone, their forms segmented into interlocking plates etched with ancient runes. At their cores, set into the center of their chests, rested circular manastones that pulsed faintly even in dormancy. Each golem was a testament to Valemont craftsmanship and was crafted by master blacksmiths and enchanters to endure relentless combat.’
Kain walk towards them as he began to scan each one.
‘Their colors marked their danger. White stone golems stood at one end. The smooth, pale constructs meant for novices, barely more than moving targets. Gray and brown followed, they were solid, heavier, built to punish sloppy technique. Then came yellow, it was etched with sharper runes, their stone darker and denser, radiating restrained force.’
At the far end, untouched and ominous, stood obsidian golems. They were polished and gleam with a sense of dread, their presence oppressive even while inert. They were silent warnings, meant only for veterans and masters.
Kain stopped before one of the yellow constructs.
Its surface was rough, angular, and scarred from countless battles. The manastone at its core glowed faintly, like a slumbering eye waiting to open.
“This should do,” Kain murmured.
He reached out and pressed his palm against the activation seal.
The manastone flared.
Stone shifted with a grinding roar. Plates locked into place as the golem straightened, towering over him. Its eyes ignited with dull amber light, and its heavy limbs moved with deliberate, predatory intent.
The ground trembled as it stepped forward.
Kain swallowed, sweat cold against his skin.
‘Good...this is danger.’
The golem followed him into the center of the training ground, every step echoing like a drumbeat. Kain raised his wooden longsword and short blade, body aching, instincts screaming.
“Come on,” he whispered. “Let’s see if I can find it again.”
The golem lifted its arm and charged.
