The morning light filtered softly through the dense canopy, casting dappled shadows across the clearing. Riven stood in the center, his gaze set on Maurs, who watched him with an unwavering intensity. Maurs took a deep breath and looked Riven up and down, assessing him.
"Today," Maurs began, his voice low and steady, "we will start with the basics. Levitation. This ability is not just a skill but a birthright of your bloodline, Riven. The Kaelthars were once revered for their mastery of telekinesis, an art now mostly lost. But I believe that within you lies the potential to rekindle those abilities, to bring them back to life."
Riven's expression flickered with a mix of surprise and intrigue. The thought of reclaiming an ancient power, one unique to his lineage, lit a spark within him. But beneath it was the weight of doubt and the echo of the villagers' accusations, the memories of betrayal fresh and raw.
"Levitation?" Riven repeated, almost skeptically. His dark eyes searched Maurs's face, looking for reassurance, for confidence in the man's conviction. He clenched his fists at his sides, steadying himself. "Alright… where do we begin?"
Maurs gestured to a small, worn patch of ground in front of them. "Stand there. Focus on everything within you. This ability lies in your blood, not just in your mind. Find that connection. Let go of all distractions."
Riven stepped onto the spot, the soft earth giving way under his feet. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he tried to follow Maurs's instruction. He could feel his heartbeat, each thud echoing in his chest as he attempted to center himself.
Riven inhaled deeply, pushing aside the doubts that tugged at his thoughts. The faint whispers of his father's condemning words echoed in his mind, but he forced himself to focus. Levitation, he reminded himself, wasn't just about defying gravity—it was a reflection of his connection to his heritage.
Maurs's voice interrupted his concentration. "Feel the weight of your body, Riven. Not as a burden, but as part of your existence. Embrace it, then command it."
Riven took another breath, grounding himself in his resolve. Slowly, he extended his hands to his sides, palms turned downward, trying to channel some sense of control over the earth pulling at him. The air around him felt heavy, charged with anticipation, but as he began to focus, something stirred. For a fleeting moment, he felt lighter, as though he was beginning to rise—
—but then, his knees buckled. His legs gave out, and he stumbled forward, catching himself just before he hit the ground. Frustration flared up in his chest as he straightened himself, his expression a mix of embarrassment and annoyance.
Maurs watched, his face unreadable, but there was no harshness in his tone. "Failure is a part of mastery, Riven. Don't let it discourage you. This is your first attempt."
Riven clenched his jaw, nodding, and tried again, closing his eyes and grounding himself once more. He recalled the ancient stories of his ancestors, of the Kaelthars' unparalleled power, their abilities that once defied nature itself. He was their descendant—this power should be within him.
After a few moments, he felt that lightness again, that fragile, wavering sensation beneath his feet. A subtle thrill filled him as he felt his body beginning to lift—only for his concentration to slip as quickly as it had come. This time, he fell forward onto his knees, frustrated.
"Again," Maurs urged, his voice calm but firm. "Control doesn't come from forcing it. You're trying too hard. Think of it as welcoming a part of you that's already there, not something foreign. Levitation is in your blood."
Riven took a steadying breath and stood again, his determination only growing stronger. His failures gnawed at him, but something in Maurs's words struck a chord. This wasn't just an ability to acquire—it was something already within him. He closed his eyes, visualizing his ancestors' feats, the stories he'd heard as a child about the Kaelthars' strength.
He felt it—the flicker of energy, of something deep within him awakening. It was subtle, a gentle hum that seemed to resonate from his very bones. This time, he didn't force it. He let the sensation grow, embracing it, and suddenly, he felt his feet leave the ground. His body felt weightless, suspended in the air, and his heart surged with triumph.
Maurs watched him rise a few inches off the ground, his face showing a faint hint of approval. But as quickly as Riven's confidence bloomed, it faltered. The moment he allowed himself to think about what he was doing, his focus shattered, and he dropped to the ground again, stumbling to keep his balance.
Breathing heavily, Riven looked up at Maurs, a hint of desperation in his eyes. "Why is this so hard? This is supposed to be my bloodline's gift. Shouldn't it come naturally?"
"Gifts don't always come without effort," Maurs replied, his gaze unwavering. "Power requires understanding, control, and patience. Do you expect centuries of Kaelthar mastery to return to you in one morning?"
Riven bit back a retort, his frustration replaced by a renewed determination. "I want to try again."
This time, he closed his eyes, visualizing his connection to the earth, the air, the life around him. He steadied his breathing, grounding himself once more, but now with a gentler approach. Rather than forcing himself into control, he let it flow, welcoming the power that lay dormant within him.
Slowly, steadily, he rose once more. This time, he didn't think about staying afloat; he simply allowed it to happen, trusting in his own strength.
Riven hovered a few inches above the ground, his feet no longer bound by gravity's pull. The sensation was strange, but exhilarating—a perfect balance between power and weightlessness. He resisted the urge to open his eyes, choosing instead to let the moment wash over him. Every heartbeat was steady, and every breath measured, grounding him in his newfound ability.
"Good," Maurs murmured, his voice just loud enough for Riven to hear. "You're finally letting it flow through you, rather than forcing it. Remember this feeling, Riven—mastery lies in knowing when to hold control and when to release it."
Riven felt his balance waver at Maurs's words, but he forced himself to stay focused. He wasn't going to let another mistake undo him now. He could feel the air around him shift, his energy stabilizing, and he let out a slow breath, taking in the thrill of his achievement.
He was levitating.
It was only a small triumph, but it was his first. And he could sense, deep down, that this was the beginning of something greater.
After a few moments, he let himself sink back to the ground, his feet touching the earth once more. The exertion had left him slightly winded, but he felt exhilarated, a spark of pride lighting his expression. He looked up at Maurs, hoping to see some approval.
Maurs regarded him silently, his face still unreadable, though there was a faint glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. "You've taken the first step," he said quietly, "but levitation is only the beginning. There are far deeper, more ancient powers in your bloodline. If you are willing, I will help you uncover them."
Riven straightened, his resolve hardening. "I'm willing," he replied, a note of determination in his voice.
Maurs's gaze lingered on him, as if weighing his answer. "Then know this—mastering what is hidden within you will demand much. Your bloodline's legacy is not just about strength. It's about endurance, wisdom, and sacrifice. And while levitation is an ability suitable for you, the real Kaelthar power has been lost to time. If you want to resurrect it, you'll need to be prepared for whatever it demands."
Riven swallowed, a chill running through him at the words. But he felt the flicker of something else too—a thrill, an anticipation, as though he were about to step into a realm beyond his imagination.
"What other powers did the Kaelthars have?" he asked, unable to hold back his curiosity.
Maurs smiled faintly, a dark, knowing expression. "The Kaelthars were rumored to wield telekinesis, the power to control and move objects with nothing but thought. Few could master it, and even fewer could channel it without it taking a toll on their mind. But in time, that ability faded, disappearing into myth—until now."
Riven felt a spark ignite within him, his pulse quickening. He could barely wrap his mind around it—the idea of summoning objects, manipulating the world with his mind. The prospect was both intimidating and exhilarating, a challenge unlike any he'd ever faced.
"Then… can I bring it back?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Maurs nodded slowly. "Perhaps. Your blood is tied to those ancient powers, though they have been dormant for centuries. But I see potential in you, Riven. With enough training, we might awaken the remnants of that power. But," Maurs added, his gaze sharpening, "it will not be easy. These powers demand mental strength as much as physical. They can consume you if you aren't careful."
Riven absorbed Maurs's words, realizing the gravity of what he was hearing. This journey was unlike anything he'd imagined—it was a call to power, a pathway to a strength that could reshape his life. But it was also a dangerous path, one that could swallow him whole if he wasn't prepared.
"I'm ready," he said at last, the determination in his voice unwavering.
Maurs's eyes narrowed slightly, as though sizing him up, but then he inclined his head, acknowledging Riven's resolve. "Very well. Then we begin. Focus on controlling what you've learned. Levitate again, but this time, maintain your stability while moving."
Riven took a steadying breath and stepped back into position, feeling the energy flow through him once more. He closed his eyes, grounding himself, but this time, he focused on balance, on the calm he would need to hold himself steady as he attempted to move. Slowly, he felt his feet leave the ground again, the sensation familiar now.
But as he tried to move, his body trembled, faltering as he struggled to maintain control. He staggered, nearly dropping, before he forced himself back into focus. Step by step, he managed to glide a few inches forward, feeling the strain on his muscles and mind. Each movement felt like lifting a boulder, but he pressed on, refusing to yield.
When he finally sank back to the ground, he was breathing heavily, his limbs aching from the effort. He glanced at Maurs, expecting disappointment, but instead, he saw a faint smile on the old man's face.
"You've made progress," Maurs said. "But remember—this is only the start. There will be failures, and there will be pain. But if you persist, you will achieve what your ancestors once did."
Riven nodded, his resolve stronger than ever. His journey was only beginning, but he was prepared for whatever lay ahead. The darkness, the danger, the power—it was all part of the path he had chosen. And he would see it through, no matter the cost.