The sky was an ominous shade of gray as we gathered again in the training grounds the next morning. The mist hadn't lifted, clinging to the earth like a shroud. The air felt electric, charged with an energy that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
Wren stood before us, his expression as unyielding as ever. But today, there was something else in his eyes—a glint of urgency, perhaps even concern.
"Yesterday's exercise revealed much about each of you," he began, his voice sharp and deliberate. "Today, we go deeper. You've learned to shield yourself, to hold the line. But a Sentient's true power lies in understanding what lies beyond the barrier."A murmur rippled through the group. Beyond the barrier? I exchanged a glance with Kai, who raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
Wren motioned us into a circle. "Sit. Focus." His voice cut through the chatter, and we obeyed.
I sank onto the damp grass, crossing my legs and closing my eyes. The world narrowed to the sound of Wren's voice.
"Each of you will feel a pulse—an echo of energy I'm projecting into the circle. Your task is not to block it, but to absorb it. Let it flow through you without breaking your center. This is balance."The first pulse came like a ripple through the air, subtle but undeniable. It brushed against my shield, and instinctively, I tensed, reinforcing the glass barrier I had crafted.
"Chen." Wren's voice snapped through my concentration. "Lower your defenses."
I hesitated. Lower my defenses? It went against everything I'd been taught so far. But Wren's tone left no room for argument. Gritting my teeth, I let the barrier waver, thinning until it was barely there.
The second pulse came, stronger this time. Without the shield to block it, the energy surged through me like a wave. It wasn't painful, but it was disorienting—like a melody played in reverse, the notes unfamiliar yet hauntingly close to something I should recognize."Good," Wren said, his voice softer now. "Do not fight it. Feel it. Understand it."
Around the circle, some students faltered, their energy visibly rippling. A girl to my left gasped, clutching her chest as if she couldn't catch her breath. But I held on, anchoring myself in the rhythm of my heartbeat.
Then the third pulse hit. It wasn't just energy—it was a presence. It clawed at the edges of my mind, dark and hungry, whispering things I couldn't quite decipher but instinctively knew I didn't want to hear.
"Focus!" Wren's voice was distant, barely audible over the roar in my head.
The glass shield I'd lowered shattered in an instant, leaving me exposed. Panic flared as the presence pushed deeper, coiling around my thoughts like a predator circling its prey.And then, just as quickly as it had come, it was gone.
I opened my eyes, gasping for air. Around me, the other students were stirring, their faces pale and drawn. Wren stood in the center of the circle, his expression grim.
"That," he said, his voice hard, "is what you face when you let your guard fall completely. It is the weight of the world beyond your barriers—the thoughts, the fears, the chaos of every mind you'll encounter. If you cannot hold your center against it, you will drown."
I could still feel the echoes of the presence lingering in my mind, and my hands trembled as I clenched them into fists.
Kai leaned toward me, his voice low. "You okay?"I nodded stiffly, not trusting myself to speak.
Wren's gaze swept over the group. "Take the rest of the day to recover. Reflect on what you've felt. Tomorrow, we begin again."
As the circle broke, I made my way toward the dorms, my steps heavy. But before I could escape completely, Wren called after me.
"Chen."
I froze, turning slowly to face him.
"You lingered too long in the presence," he said, his tone even but pointed. "Why?"
"I…" The words stuck in my throat. "I don't know. It felt... familiar."
Wren's expression darkened, and for a moment, I thought he might say something more. But he simply nodded, turning away.The rest of the day passed in a haze. The presence I'd felt wouldn't leave me alone, its whispers faint but persistent, like an itch I couldn't scratch. By evening, I found myself wandering the quiet halls of the dorms, hoping the motion would clear my mind.
Instead, I found Kai.
He was in the common room again, sprawled on the same couch, but this time his usual smirk was absent. He looked up as I entered, his brow furrowed.
"Chen," he said, sitting up. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Maybe I have," I muttered, sinking into the chair opposite him.Kai studied me for a moment, then said, "It's the presence, isn't it? It's still in your head."
I nodded, not bothering to ask how he knew. He always seemed to know.
"Mine too," he admitted, leaning back. "It gets to everyone the first time. But you can't let it win."
"What if it's not just the presence?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. "What if it's me? What if I'm the danger?"
Kai didn't answer right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than I'd ever heard it.
"You're not the danger, Chen. You're the shield. You just have to figure out how to wield it."
His words didn't erase the whispers in my mind, but they gave me something to hold onto.
Balance.It wasn't just about letting energy in or keeping it out. It was about finding the strength to stand in the storm—and not lose myself to it.