The golden light of dawn had shifted slightly, spilling across the floating platforms in long, uneven streaks. Lyria's arms still trembled from yesterday's flare, her spark flickering faintly under her collarbone, warm and insistent. She ran a hand through her damp hair and glanced at Kairo, who stood with his arms folded, watching her with an unreadable expression.
"You're late," he said, though his voice carried no real anger. Just observation.
Lyria swallowed hard. "I… I just needed a moment." Her words felt small, almost ridiculous, but somehow, they were honest. She had stayed behind yesterday, replaying the flare over and over in her mind, wondering if she would ever truly control it.
Kairo nodded slightly. "Focus, then. Today's exercise isn't about raw power, it's not about strategy. It's about control and coordination."
Her stomach twisted. Control? Coordination? I can barely keep the spark from exploding when I think too hard.
He gestured toward the first platform, a wide square of polished metal hovering above the clouds. Tiny drones floated in formation above it, glowing faintly with silver light. "Mirror me. Watch my blades and match every movement. Don't think too much, just feel it."
Lyria stepped forward, legs shaky. She raised her hands, golden sparks twitching nervously along her arms. The first move was simple: a basic forward strike with an arc of energy. Her spark flared too early, and one of the drones wobbled dangerously.
"Steady," Kairo said softly. "Breathe. You're anticipating too much. Let the spark respond, don't force it."
She took a deep breath, feeling the hum beneath her collarbone sync with her heartbeat. Slowly, the drone corrected itself, hovering in place. Her chest swelled with a small surge of pride — quickly followed by a wave of self-doubt. Did I really do it, or was it luck?
Kairo stepped beside her. "Your spark isn't a tool you control through force. It responds to rhythm, intention, and attention. Try to match your pulse to it."
Lyria closed her eyes, concentrating. She felt her own pulse, the subtle warmth under her collarbone, and the tiny hum of energy spreading to her fingertips. She let go of fear and focused on flow, on the motion, on the rhythm.
The second sequence began. Kairo raised his blade, and the drones darted in formation. Lyria mirrored him. Her spark flickered, then steadied, guiding the drones perfectly. A thrill shot through her chest — exhilaration, relief, pride — all tangled together.
"Not bad," Kairo said, his tone almost approving. "Keep going. Don't lose focus."
She laughed softly, a short, shaky sound. "I can't believe I'm enjoying this," she admitted. "Yesterday, I thought I'd never get it under control."
Kairo's lips quirked. "That's part of learning. You'll never know how strong you are until you push too far."
The next exercise pushed her further. Kairo's blades danced through the air in intricate patterns, the drones reacting to every subtle motion. Lyria's spark pulsed along with hers, guiding her through the steps. But halfway through, she misjudged a turn, sending a drone spinning toward the platform's edge.
Her chest tightened. No. No, I can't fail now.
Kairo's voice cut through panic like a lifeline. "Now. Breathe. Adjust. Feel it, don't fight it."
She did. Slowly, the drone corrected its path. Her spark dimmed to a gentle glow. Her hands shook, but she laughed softly, a mix of disbelief and triumph.
"You're improving faster than I expected," Kairo said, his eyes softening for just a moment. "Not just control… timing, rhythm, awareness. Good."
Lyria's stomach fluttered. She couldn't tell if it was pride, relief, or the strange heat that always seemed to rise when he praised her.
The final test of the session involved two drones moving in sync, following Kairo and Lyria as one unit. Their pulses had to match perfectly — one false movement, and the drones would collide.
"Ready?" Kairo asked, stepping beside her. The closeness made her pulse jump. She nodded, trying to focus on the drones, the rhythm, the spark — anything but the hammering in her chest.
They moved together. Kairo's movements were precise, fluid. Lyria mirrored him, letting the spark flow naturally, letting her fear guide her into awareness rather than panic. For the first time, she felt almost… graceful. The drones responded perfectly, hovering in elegant arcs, reflecting golden light from her spark and silver light from Kairo's blades.
A laugh escaped her, light and joyous. "We did it!"
Kairo glanced at her, a small, rare smile touching his lips. "Yes. But remember… control isn't just about success. It's about understanding failure, and how you respond."
Lyria nodded, breathing heavily, chest warm, spark glowing steadily. She realized something that didn't have to be said aloud: she wasn't alone in this. Her spark, chaotic and temperamental, wasn't hers alone to bear. It was part of something bigger — part of a rhythm she could share with Kairo, part of a bond that was just beginning.
The sun rose higher, golden light reflecting off the drones and metal platforms. Lyria felt a quiet, fierce determination settle in her chest. She could do this. She would do this.
And maybe, just maybe, she was starting to trust not only her spark but herself.