Dawn came strangely fast in the sanctuary, as though the trees themselves urged the morning forward for the sake of what needed to begin.
When Aelindra stepped out of the small shelter Mira had woven from branch, spell, and stubbornness, Arveth was already waiting in the clearing.
Not seated.
Not resting.
Standing, motionless as carved stone, facing the rising sun.
It was the first time Aelindra truly saw him in daylight.
His cloak, once seeming black as shadow, now revealed itself as layered green and silver threads, woven in patterns that shifted like living bark. The metallic strips braided into his hair glinted faintly, catching the first rays of sun. And his eyes… his eyes were the unsettling kind of calm that spoke of centuries, not decades.
"You're late," he said without turning.
"We're early," Caelan mumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"In the old paths," Arveth replied, "intent determines time. And your intent is slow."
Caelan shut his mouth.
Mira smirked, but only briefly. Even she did not take liberties with Arveth.
Aelindra felt Severin step up beside her, his presence steady but tense. She could feel the question burning inside him still. Command. Fire. Two truths Mira had revealed yet explained so little of.
Arveth finally faced them.
"Today," he said, "we begin the Shaping."
A breeze moved through the clearing, bending the tall grass as though bowing to the word.
Aelindra swallowed. She had no idea what "the Shaping" meant, and judging from Severin's slight shift and Caelan's raised brow, neither did they.
Only Mira looked unsurprised.
Arveth's gaze swept over them like a weight.
"You are four," he said, "but each of you requires a different path. Yet your fates are interlocked. So, we begin together and then divide."
Aelindra opened her mouth to ask how training a healer, a fire-bearer/a shadow-sensitive warrior, Caelan and Mira (whatever Mira was) could possibly happen at the same time, but Arveth spoke before she could.
"We start with awareness."
He tapped the butt of his staff against the forest floor.
The earth pulsed.
Aelindra gasped as the clearing changed, subtly but unmistakably. The air thickened, the light sharpened, the sounds from the forest grew more detailed, layered, distinct. It was as if the trees leaned closer.
Or as if the sanctuary itself woke up.
"Lesson one," Arveth said. "If you cannot feel the world around you, you cannot shape your place in it. Sit."
They obeyed.
Aelindra folded her legs beneath her. Severin sat stiffly, uncertain. Caelan flopped down with resignation. Mira lowered herself with silent focus, eyes half-closed.
Arveth moved between them like a shifting shadow.
"Aelindra."
Her name rang like a bell.
"You who carry healer's blood, your training begins with listening. Close your eyes."
Aelindra obeyed.
Arveth's hand settled lightly atop her head.
"Feel the life around you. Do not search for it, let it come."
At first, she felt nothing. Only the normal quiet of morning.
But then, something subtle flickered.
A thread of warmth in the soil beneath her palms. The soft pressure of flowing roots. A steady, slow heartbeat, no, not a heartbeat, but something alive, deep under the forest floor. A beast? A river? A memory? She could not tell.
Her breath caught.
She felt… life. Everywhere.
Arveth spoke softly:
"Healing magic is not conjuring light. It is alignment. The world remembers harmony, even when people forget."
Aelindra's pulse trembled with the realization.
This… this was the beginning of something vast.
Arveth moved on.
"Severin."
Severin tensed instinctively.
"You feel the world differently," Arveth said. "Not through life, but through disruption. Through pressure. Through intent."
He tapped Severin's sternum with two fingers.
The air around Severin thinned, then sharpened.
"Close your eyes. Tell me where the disturbance is."
Severin hesitated, then obeyed.
The silence stretched.
Aelindra almost thought he would say he sensed nothing, but his brow furrowed.
"…north," Severin murmured. "Twenty paces. Something… breathing shallowly."
Caelan's head snapped up. "There's nothing there."
"There is," Severin said quietly. "Or… someone. Watching."
Arveth nodded once.
"Good. You feel command not as dominance, but as orientation. You read the world by its tension points. The air becomes your map. This sense is the root of your first gift."
Severin swallowed, absorbing every word, jaw tight with realization and fear.
Arveth's gaze shifted.
"Caelan."
Caelan straightened as if preparing for impact. "Yeah?"
"You rely on strength and instinct. Instinct is good. But instinct without discipline is noise."
Caelan opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it.
Arveth planted his staff before him.
"You will learn movement first. And stillness. You cannot protect anyone if your own body is chaos."
Caelan deflated. "…Great."
And finally
"Mira."
Mira opened her eyes but kept her posture still.
"You already know the paths," Arveth said. "But you have gaps. Your strength is direction. Your weakness is burden. You take too much responsibility."
Mira's jaw tightened. "Someone must."
"Not alone," Arveth replied. "Your training is integration. You will learn to wield your knowledge without carrying the cost of it alone."
Something flickered across Mira's face, something sharp, pained, hidden, and then she exhaled.
"Yes, Arveth."
Arveth stepped back.
"Now," he said, "we begin separately."
Aelindra felt a ripple of anticipation, and dread.
_______
AELINDRA — THE LISTENING
Arveth led her toward a ring of white-stone markers hidden deeper in the trees.
"This circle," he said, "reveals what you cannot hide from yourself."
Aelindra hesitated. "What if I'm not ready?"
"You are never ready for truth. You can only delay it, not deny it. Step in."
She did.
At once, the sounds sharpened again, the rushing of sap, the whisper of insects, the echo of old magic embedded in bark.
"Your first task," Arveth said, "is not to heal. But to witness."
"Witness what?"
Arveth smiled faintly.
"Everything."
Hours passed as Aelindra remained still, eyes closed. She felt the pull of every living thing, the small beetle struggling along the stone, the bird overhead, even the faint remnants of magic in the roots beneath her knees. She extended her hands slowly, trying to let the energy come to her, not force it.
At first, the sensation was chaotic. Sparks of warmth surged in one hand while the other felt icy cold. She shivered, but Arveth's voice guided her.
"Do not control. Align."
She breathed deeply, feeling the patterns of life around her. Slowly, warmth spread from her palms, rippling through the soil, touching a root here, a fallen leaf there. She sensed the injuries in the earth, the disturbances, the fragments of imbalance.
Aelindra murmured softly, focusing her will. A thread of golden light flowed from her hands into the soil, coiling around a wounded root like a gentle stream, knitting it back together. Her own heartbeat synchronized with the pulse of the forest beneath her.
And for the first time, she understood: healing was listening, and listening was shaping.
_________
SEVERIN — THE PRESSURE
Severin followed Arveth to the opposite edge of the clearing, stopping beneath two towering ash trees.
A strange metal disc lay embedded in the earth, marked with concentric rings.
"This is the Gauge," Arveth said. "Stand at its center."
Severin stepped onto it.
The air thickened instantly, like walking into a storm.
His breath hitched.
"What?"
"You feel pressure more strongly than others," Arveth said. "This disc amplifies ambient force. You must learn to breathe through it, not fight it."
"I can barely move," Severin muttered, chest tightening.
"Then do not move," Arveth replied. "Just feel."
Severin grit his teeth. But he stayed, feeling the shifting tension in the air. Each pulse of the disc rippled through him, teaching him to sense orientation in disruption. Slowly, he learned to extend his awareness outward, to touch the air, the leaves, the forest, and locate disturbances before they manifested physically.
________
CAELAN — THE STILLNESS
Caelan stood between two stones carved with runic slashes.
"What's this?" he asked.
"A test," Arveth said.
"What kind?"
"A simple one. Do not move."
Caelan blinked. "For how long?"
"Until I say otherwise."
"That's it? Easy."
Five seconds later Caelan was flinching at a mosquito.
Arveth sighed.
"Again."
Hours dragged. He trained Caelan in controlled breathing, meditative footwork, and the subtle balancing of muscle and weight. By the end, Caelan could remain immobile for nearly a full minute while sensing the faintest tremor of a root underfoot. His reflexes had sharpened; his body could respond instantly while appearing completely still.
_______
MIRA — THE BURDEN
Arveth guided Mira toward a shallow pool where the water reflected the sky unnaturally clearly.
"You will speak," Arveth said.
"I don't…"
"You will speak," he repeated, "what you hide."
A muscle jumped in Mira's jaw.
She knelt by the water.
And slowly, painfully, the words began to come.
Her voice trembled at first, then gained strength. She confessed fears, regrets, burdens she had carried for years, responsibility she could not relinquish. As she spoke, the water shimmered with her magic, absorbing the weight of her confession. The process left her exhausted, but lighter.
Hours later, the four of them returned to the main clearing, sweat-soaked, mentally exhausted, and strangely changed.
Aelindra felt raw but awakened.
Severin felt wrung out but sharper.
Caelan felt frustrated but focused.
Mira felt lighter, though her eyes were red.
Arveth surveyed them with a faint nod.
"You survived the first shaping," he said. "Tomorrow, we begin the second."
Aelindra hesitated. "What's the second?"
Arveth smiled, cold and knowing.
"Pain."
The wind shuddered through the branches.
And the training had truly begun.