Sleep came slowly, the echoes of Wren's lesson still thrumming in my mind. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the barrier—the glass shield I'd created—quivering like it was barely holding itself together. When I finally drifted off, the dreams were no better. Shadows clawed at the edges of my consciousness, whispering things I couldn't quite hear but somehow understood.By morning, I was exhausted. The training grounds were cloaked in a damp mist, and the chill seeped into my bones as I joined the others. Kai greeted me with his usual smirk, but even he seemed subdued. Something about the air felt different, heavier. I wasn't the only one who noticed; the other students shuffled uneasily, their chatter quieter than usual.
Master Wren stood at the center of the clearing, his gaze sharp as ever. But there was a tension in his stance, like a coiled spring ready to snap."Today's exercise will test your endurance," he announced, his voice cutting through the murmur of the group. "A Sentient must remain steady, no matter the pressure."
I felt his eyes land on me for a fraction of a second longer than anyone else.
"You will pair up," he continued, "and test each other's shields. Push, but do not shatter. Defend, but do not retaliate. Precision, not power."
The students began pairing off, the murmur of hushed negotiations filling the clearing. Before I could even move, Kai was at my side.
"Looks like we're stuck together," he said with a grin.I forced a smile, but my stomach churned. Kai had always been stronger than me—not just physically, but mentally. His control was like steel, unyielding. I wasn't sure I was ready for this.
We moved to an open space and sat cross-legged across from each other. Kai raised an eyebrow, his expression more curious than competitive.
"Ready?" he asked.
I nodded, closing my eyes and steadying my breathing. The shield came faster this time, the glass barrier solidifying around my mind.Kai's push came gently at first, like a warm breeze testing the edges of a door. But then it grew firmer, more insistent, probing for weaknesses.
"Not bad," he murmured. "You've been practicing."
I tried to ignore him, focusing on holding the barrier steady. But Kai's push wasn't just strong—it was clever. He didn't attack directly; he pressed at the edges, finding the places where my concentration wavered.
"Come on, Chen," he said, his voice almost teasing. "I know you can do better than this."The barrier trembled, cracks spidering across its surface. My chest tightened as panic crept in.
"Focus," I told myself, Wren's voice echoing in my mind. "Anchor yourself."
I pushed back, harder than I meant to.
Kai gasped, the connection snapping like a taut rope. I opened my eyes to see him clutching his head, his face pale.
"Kai!" I scrambled to my feet, reaching for him.
He waved me off, his grin weak but intact. "I'm fine. Just… wasn't expecting that."
I looked around, but no one else seemed to have noticed. Wren, however, was watching us, his expression unreadable."Take five," Kai said, standing and brushing off his hands. "You're stronger than you think, Chen. But maybe tone it down a bit, yeah?"
I nodded mutely, guilt knotting in my stomach.
That evening, I sought out Wren. He was in his usual spot in the study hall, poring over a weathered tome. He didn't look up as I approached, but I knew he sensed me."What happened with Kai?" he asked without preamble.
I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. "I lost control. I didn't mean to push that hard—"
"But you did," Wren interrupted, finally meeting my gaze. "And that's exactly why we train. So it doesn't happen again."
I bristled at his tone. "I'm trying. But it's like the more I learn, the harder it gets to keep it all in check."
Wren leaned back, his expression softening just enough to surprise me. "That's the paradox of power, Chen. The more you understand it, the more you realize how fragile it makes you."I frowned, his words striking a chord I didn't want to acknowledge. "So what am I supposed to do? Just keep building walls until I'm completely cut off?"
"No," he said firmly. "You learn to choose what you let in—and what you keep out. Power isn't about isolation. It's about balance."
His words lingered as I left the study hall, the weight of them settling over me like a cloak. Balance. It sounded so simple, yet it felt impossible.Later that night, I found Kai in the dorm common area, sprawled on the couch with a book in his lap. He looked up as I approached, his smile easy despite the tension that still coiled in my chest.
"Chen," he said, sitting up. "You okay?"
I hesitated, then nodded. "About earlier… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"Don't," he interrupted, his tone surprisingly gentle. "You don't have to apologize. Honestly, I'm impressed. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."
I sank into the chair opposite him, the tension in my shoulders easing just a little."I'm just scared," I admitted, the words barely more than a whisper.
Kai studied me for a moment, then leaned forward, his expression serious. "Good. Fear keeps you grounded. Just don't let it stop you."
His words stayed with me long after he'd gone to bed. As I stared at the ceiling, the whispers of doubt still circling my mind, I realized something: Wren and Kai were both right. Balance wasn't about shutting myself off—it was about finding the strength to stay open without losing control.
And if I couldn't figure out how to do that, I wasn't just a danger to myself—I was a danger to everyone around me.