The morning sunlight poured through the window of Arakh's dorm, casting a warm glow across the tidy room. He stretched with a groan, feeling unusually refreshed. The events of the previous day lingered faintly in his mind, but instead of weighing him down, they seemed to give him a sense of clarity. He hopped out of bed, ruffling his hair before heading to the bathroom.
The sound of running water filled the space as he stood under the shower, letting the warm droplets wash over him. It felt invigorating, like washing away not just the remnants of sleep but also a layer of old worries. His golden eyes shimmered in the mirror as he dried himself off and put on his crisp uniform, the dark fabric snug yet comfortable. His smirk spread as he adjusted the collar, catching his reflection. "Looking sharp," he murmured to himself, his confidence flickering in the gleam of his gaze.
Stepping into the hall, Arakh immediately noticed the sea of students moving about, their chatter filling the air. The Elabra Academy buzzed with the energy of a new day. Yet, as he walked, a curious thing happened. Conversations hushed, and heads subtly turned away as his presence became known. None of the students dared to meet his piercing golden eyes. Some whispered furtively behind their hands, others feigned distraction by examining the intricate carvings on the walls or fumbling with their belongings.
Arakh smiled inwardly, the corner of his lips twitching into a faint smirk. They've noticed, he thought. Whether it was fear, respect, or curiosity, the change in how they regarded him was palpable. He moved with an easy confidence, his strides purposeful as he navigated the hallway.
The first class of the morning was just ahead. The doors were slightly ajar, and he could already hear the faint voice of the instructor preparing for the session. He adjusted the strap of his bag, rolling his shoulders before stepping inside. His eyes scanned the room briefly, noting the students who stiffened as he passed. He took his usual seat, casually leaning back and setting his things down.
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The classroom buzzed with anticipation as Arakh settled into his seat, his eyes fixed on the instructor at the front. The morning's theoretical lesson had been engaging, but nothing could compare to the excitement of the practical training session that followed. When the bell chimed to signal the end of class, Arakh joined the rest of the students as they shuffled out and made their way to the academy's grand training grounds.
The training field was vast, its neatly maintained arena surrounded by observation platforms and specialized equipment. It was a place where resonators honed their skills, a ground for growth, discipline, and competition. Today, however, there was a palpable difference in the air. Standing at the center of the field was not Master Lorelai, but a different instructor. He was a middle-aged man with a sturdy build and a calm, commanding presence. His short, slicked-back hair shimmered faintly under the sun, and his robes, embroidered with silver streaks resembling flowing streams, hinted at his specialty.
"Gather around," the instructor called, his voice deep yet even. The students quickly formed a semicircle around him, their curious eyes watching his every move.
"My name is Master Callen," he began, his gaze sweeping across the group. "Today, we will focus on resonation. Some of you may think it's just about power, the flash and bang of raw energy. But resonation is far more than that—it's control, precision, and balance. Without those, you are no better than a raging river, capable of destruction but devoid of purpose."
The students murmured amongst themselves, but Callen raised a hand to silence them. "Let me show you."
With a casual motion, Callen extended his arm. A faint ripple of energy shimmered around him, and the students could feel the subtle shift in the air. His resonation came to life—a soft blue aura that flowed like water around his body. He turned toward a training dummy positioned nearby, its wooden frame standing stoically in the middle of the field.
"Resonation, when used correctly, is a tool," Callen said, his tone calm yet instructive. "It can adapt, evolve, and, most importantly, strike with precision."
With a flick of his wrist, the water around him coalesced into a sharp, spiraling spear. The movement was so fluid that it seemed almost effortless. The spear shot forward, cutting through the air with a high-pitched whistle before slamming into the dummy. The force of the impact shattered the target into splinters, leaving behind a faint mist in the air.
Master Callen clasped his hands behind his back, his sharp gaze cutting through the murmurs of anticipation as the students prepared themselves. He let the moment linger, ensuring every pair of eyes was on him before speaking again.
"For your first practical test, I want you to manifest your element and maintain it for ten minutes," Callen announced, his voice steady yet stern. "This is not about showing off your strength. It's about control and endurance. Letting your resonation dissipate will result in failure. Letting it explode? Well…" He paused, glancing meaningfully at the medical staff stationed nearby. "That's an entirely different lesson."
Some students shuffled nervously, while others tightened their fists with determination.
"It's normal for your resonation to fluctuate," Callen added. "You're still learning. But I need to see that you can stabilize it, that you understand how to keep the energy flowing without letting it spiral out of control. Push yourself, but do not exceed your limits—unless you want to experience the consequences firsthand."
A wave of unease rippled through the group. Callen's sharp tone conveyed the importance of the exercise, but it also hinted at the inherent risks. He gestured to the array of spaced-out practice zones, each marked with safety barriers.
"Choose your station and begin when you're ready. I'll be observing." His eyes narrowed slightly. "And don't think you can coast through this. I will know."
Arakh took a deep breath, his golden eyes scanning the stations. Some of the students already hurried to their spots, their nervous chatter creating a low hum in the air. Arakh, however, moved with deliberate calm, claiming a station near the center. The weight of Callen's expectations—or perhaps his own—settled heavily on his shoulders, but his smirk remained unshaken.
Once everyone was in place, Callen raised his hand, signaling the start. "Begin!"
The air immediately grew thick with energy as students summoned their resonations. Elements flickered into existence—flames sputtered, droplets of water hovered, gusts of wind swirled, and shards of earth jutted upward. The variety of resonations painted a chaotic but mesmerizing scene.
As the test progressed, Arakh stood in the training ground, his hands steady, the crackling lightning of his resonation sparking to life in his palms. The fluctuating sparks mirrored the chaos inside his mind. Every so often, his thoughts drifted to the day before—the warmth of Lorelai's unexpected embrace, her comforting words, and the raw emotions he had let slip in front of her.
Why did I break like that? he wondered as the memory of her arms around him played in his mind. His grip faltered slightly, the lightning dimming before surging again. He clenched his teeth. Focus, Arakh. This isn't the time to think about that.
But it wasn't so simple. Her words echoed in his mind. "You were always the strong kid, Arakh... I never knew that the situation was that dire." The sincerity of her voice had caught him off guard, and the vulnerability he'd shown was unlike anything he'd ever allowed himself before. He shook his head lightly, trying to clear the fog of emotions, but it only seemed to make the lightning in his hands wilder. The sparks flickered, rising and dimming in uneven waves.
Arakh closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He raised his hands, and a faint shimmer began to envelop him. His resonation started to emerge—small streaks of energy sparking and coiling like restless tendrils. At first, it felt smooth, almost natural, but the challenge came quickly. The energy wavered, threatening to disperse.
"Steady," Arakh muttered to himself, narrowing his focus. He adjusted his stance, grounding himself as he channeled his energy with precision. The sparks stabilized, forming a faint, glowing aura around him. It wasn't perfect—the energy flickered now and then—but he was holding it.
A loud crack echoed across the field, drawing everyone's attention for a brief moment. One of the students, a boy attempting to summon fire, winced as his resonation burst violently, leaving a charred mark on the ground. The boy staggered back, clutching his hand in pain.
"Careful!" Callen barked, striding over to the boy. "What did I say about exceeding your limits? Control, not force!"
Arakh didn't let the commotion distract him for long. He focused on his own resonation, feeling the ebb and flow of energy within him. It was a strange sensation, like balancing on a tightrope. Too much focus, and the energy felt constrained; too little, and it threatened to spiral out.
The minutes ticked by, and sweat began to bead on the students' brows. The strain of maintaining their resonations was evident—faces twisted in concentration, arms trembling as they fought to stabilize their elements.
"Three minutes left," Callen announced, his sharp eyes darting from student to student. "If you've made it this far, don't lose it now."
So, this is the boy who injured Pakha, Callen mused inwardly, his lips curling into a smirk. He crossed his arms, tapping a finger against his bicep thoughtfully. The reckless troublemaker… hmm, perhaps there's more to him than just arrogance. An idea struck him, and his smirk deepened. A little test wouldn't hurt... and if he fails, well, maybe a little reward will come my way.
With a subtle flick of his fingers, Callen manipulated his water resonation, forming a precise droplet. He shot it toward Arakh—a tiny, fast bead of water aimed to disrupt his focus. The droplet struck Arakh's shoulder with a faint plink.
Arakh's brows twitched, and the lightning surrounding him briefly wavered. For a split second, the arcs sputtered, but then they stabilized, crackling back to life.
Interesting, Callen thought, his smirk turning into a sly grin. He formed another droplet and flicked it toward Arakh. This one hit his arm. Again, the lightning fluctuated slightly, but it refused to dissipate.
Not bad, kid, but let's see how much you can take.
Callen sent another droplet, then another, each striking a different part of Arakh's body. The boy's eyes remained shut, his expression tightening with each hit, but he didn't falter. The sparks of his resonation surged and dimmed, but they always returned to a stable rhythm.
Arakh's frown deepened as the droplets continued to hit him. With each strike, the realization grew sharper—this wasn't part of the test. This is deliberate, he thought. By the sixth droplet, his patience wore thin. He opened his golden eyes, and they immediately locked onto Callen.
The instructor froze for half a heartbeat, caught red-handed mid-motion, his fingers still poised to flick another droplet. Arakh's glare burned with unspoken accusation, a challenge that spoke louder than words. So this is your game? his eyes seemed to say.
Callen, to his credit, didn't flinch. He maintained his calm demeanor, his lips curving into a faint smirk as if to say, What are you going to do about it? Undeterred, he flicked his fingers again, sending another droplet arcing through the air toward Arakh.
But this time, Arakh didn't flinch either. With his eyes wide open, he maintained his resonation. The lightning danced around him, fluctuating slightly but never faltering. The sharp arcs cast erratic shadows against the ground, making him appear like a living storm.
His peers, who had been too engrossed in their own struggles moments earlier, now stared in awe. The sight of Arakh standing tall, his eyes open, and his resonation stable was nothing short of astonishing. Most of them had barely managed to complete the exercise with their eyes closed, focusing entirely on maintaining control. Yet here he was, enduring not only the difficulty of the task but also the deliberate interference of the instructor.
"Is he… doing it with his eyes open?" one student whispered, their voice tinged with disbelief.
"Impossible," another muttered, shaking their head. "How can he still hold on?"
Callen's smirk twitched slightly as he observed the scene. He couldn't deny it—Arakh's control, even under pressure, was remarkable. The boy wasn't just enduring the test; he was surpassing it in a way that none of the other students had.
As the tenth minute drew to a close, Arakh felt a subtle shift in the air—a signal of yet another incoming water droplet. This time, however, he didn't wait for it to hit. In one swift motion, he canceled his resonation entirely, the lightning flickering out with a sharp crackle, leaving only the faint scent of ozone in the air.
The water droplet zipped through the space where his head had been moments earlier, missing him by a hair's breadth. Before the ripple of astonishment had a chance to spread through the crowd, Arakh shifted his weight and sidestepped with precision, moving toward Callen with quiet determination.
His movements were deliberate and sharp, each step carrying him closer to the instructor. Callen's smirk faltered as Arakh closed the distance, the boy's golden eyes gleaming with a mix of calm and intensity. The tension on the field was palpable as the students watched, holding their breaths.
Finally, Arakh came to a stop mere feet from Callen, his gaze unwavering. Another droplet of water was poised at the tip of the instructor's fingers, but Callen hesitated, realizing he had lost the upper hand.