As students dispersed from the training grounds, Asher gathered his things, ready to head for a much-needed shower. His muscles ached from the constant tension of restraint rather than actual exertion.
"Asher." Stanley's voice stopped him. "A moment."
Derek and Yuno glanced back, but Asher waved them on. "I'll catch up."
Once the other students were out of earshot, Stanley spoke in a low voice. "Your control slipped today."
Asher's heart rate picked up. "Sir, I-"
"The cameras around the construction area were down for maintenance last night," Stanley continued, his tone neutral but meaningful. "Convenient timing for someone looking to practice unobserved."
A cold feeling settled in Asher's stomach. So Stanley had known about his night training.
"I understand the urge to test your limits," Stanley said, "but be careful. Some powers, once unleashed, are difficult to contain again." He paused, studying Asher's face. "And clean up the wood splinters next time. The maintenance staff were confused this morning."
Before Asher could respond, Stanley walked away, leaving him with more questions than answers.
In the shower room, Asher let the hot water run over his tense muscles, mind racing. Between his anxiety disorder, his hidden powers, the sword of Avarest, and Stanley's cryptic warnings, everything felt like it was becoming more complicated by the day.
"Hey, what did Stanley want?" Derek asked when Asher joined them in the dining hall for lunch.
"Just some pointers on my form," Asher lied, picking at his food.
"Speaking of forms," Yuno interjected, "has anyone seen Kira today? She missed morning training too."
As if on cue, Kira appeared at their table, looking tired but more composed than the previous day. "Mind if I join you?"
The conversation shifted to lighter topics - tomorrow's combat simulations, complaints about theory assignments, and speculation about the upcoming ranking tests. But Asher's mind kept drifting to Stanley's words and the growing pressure of maintaining his facade.
"The combat simulations tomorrow are supposedly different this time," Derek mentioned between bites of his sandwich. "I overheard some third-years talking about new scenarios being added."
Kira picked at her salad. "I heard they're introducing multiple opponent situations. Not just one-on-one anymore."
Asher's fork paused halfway to his mouth. Multiple opponents meant more chances for his true abilities to show through. One slip, one moment of letting his guard down while defending against multiple attacks...
"That'll be rough," Yuno said, glancing sympathetically at Asher. "Especially for those still working on basics."
"I can handle it," Asher replied, perhaps a bit too quickly. He felt Kira's curious gaze on him but avoided meeting her eyes.
Their conversation was interrupted by a commotion at the entrance to the dining hall. Steven had apparently decided lunch was a good time for another demonstration, this time showing off some advanced energy manipulation technique that sent sparks dancing across the ceiling.
"Sometimes I wonder if he actually believes his own hype," Derek muttered, watching as several first-years crowded around Steven.
"Speaking of special abilities," Kira turned to Asher, her voice low, "did you ever figure out what that surge was about?"
Asher nearly choked on his drink. He could feel the others' attention shift to him, especially Derek's sharp gaze. "Not really," he lied, aware of how unconvincing he sounded. "Probably just a fluke."
"Flukes don't usually register on power meters," Yuno pointed out.
Before anyone could press further, a bell chimed through the dining hall, signaling the start of afternoon classes. Asher had never been so grateful for the interruption.
"We should head to Theory of Energy Manipulation," Derek said, gathering his things. "I heard Professor Chen is covering advanced defensive techniques today."
As they made their way to class, Asher felt the familiar weight of his medication in his pocket. The morning's activities and the stress of maintaining his secret were wearing on him, but he couldn't risk taking a pill in front of the others - it would lead to too many questions.
The classroom was already half full when they arrived. Professor Chen, a stern-faced woman with graying hair, was writing complex equations on the board. Asher took his usual seat near the back, trying to ignore the persistent pulse of the sword of Avarest in its hidden storage.
"Today," Professor Chen announced, "we'll be discussing the theoretical framework behind multi-directional energy shields. This will be particularly relevant for tomorrow's combat simulations."
As she began her lecture, Asher's mind wandered to his night training session. He'd actually managed to create a decent energy shield while practicing with the logs, but tomorrow he'd have to pretend he barely understood the concept.
"Mr. Reeds," Professor Chen's voice cut through his thoughts. "Perhaps you'd like to explain to the class why the coefficient of energy distribution matters in shield formation?"
All eyes turned to Asher, and he felt his anxiety spike. He knew the answer - had practically mastered it during his private practice - but he couldn't show that knowledge. Not here. Not now.
"I... um..." he stammered, playing his part. "Something about... energy flow?"
Snickers rippled through the classroom. Professor Chen sighed. "Mr. Fletcher, perhaps you can enlighten us?"
Steven stood up, launching into a perfectly detailed explanation, complete with unnecessary flourishes of demonstration. Asher slumped in his seat, the familiar mixture of frustration and relief washing over him.
After a long day, he went to bed early, seeking a good night's rest before midnight. But he couldn't shake off the urge to practice. He got out of bed and headed to his training spot, where he reviewed the day's lessons.
As the weeks went by, he settled into a routine: training with others in the morning and practicing alone at night. His hard work paid off, and he noticed significant improvement. However, his health wasn't perfect, and he relied on medication to get by.
Everything seemed to be under control until one afternoon, when something unexpected happened during lunch a note landed on his desk. Opening it, he recognized Kira's handwriting: "You're not as good at pretending as you think. We need to talk after class."
Asher's heart rate picked up again. How much had she figured out? And what would happen if she shared her suspicions with the others?