Kael lay sprawled under the shade of the tree, staring at his hand. His fingers flexed instinctively, like they still remembered the faint warmth of the spark he'd summoned earlier.
It had fizzled out fast—way too fast—but it was something. His first real step toward power.
His lips curled into a smirk. "So," he muttered, "you gonna tell me how I'm supposed to use this thing? Or do I just figure it out as I go?"
"Oh, I thought you were the type to figure things out on your own," the system teased, its tone light and mocking. "What happened to all that confidence from earlier?"
Kael rolled his eyes. "Confidence doesn't mean I don't need directions. You're supposed to be my guide or whatever, right? So guide me."
"Fine," the system said, though Kael could practically hear its smug grin. "First things first: you need to stop thinking of it as just a spark. It's not a trick or a flicker of flame—it's ichor. Your ichor. Flowing through you, waiting for you to control it."
Kael sat up, brushing dirt off his hands. "Control it, huh? Like… moving it around?"
"Exactly," the system said, its tone shifting to something more instructive. "The Twelve Families teach their kids how to control the flow of ichor when they're three years old. It's second nature to them. For you, though? You're a little behind the curve."
Kael snorted. "A little? Try twenty years." He stretched his arms over his head, the faint ache in his muscles reminding him of the work he'd already put in. "Whatever. I'll just have to catch up."
"Catch up? At this rate, you'll be lucky to tie their shoelaces."
Kael grinned, standing up and brushing off his pants. "Then I guess I'll just have to work harder. Let's see how far this 'weak body' can go."
"Oh, you're really leaning into the tough guy act now, aren't you?" the system said, its voice dripping with sarcasm.
Kael smirked. "Keep talking. I'll show you tough."
"I'm quaking in my metaphorical boots," the system replied dryly. "Now focus. Let's start with the basics."
Kael stood in the middle of the field, his hand outstretched. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he concentrated.
"Feel for the ichor," the system said. "It's already flowing through you, like blood. Picture it gathering in your chest, and then imagine guiding it—slowly, carefully—toward your hand. Don't rush it."
Kael furrowed his brow, focusing on the faint warmth in his chest. He pictured it spreading through his body like a glowing river, flowing downward to his outstretched palm.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a soft crackle, a tiny spark appeared in his hand.
Kael grinned. "There it is."
"Good," the system said. "Now, try to keep it steady. The goal isn't just to summon it—it's to control it. Keep the flow of ichor smooth and consistent. Any spikes or breaks, and it'll fizzle out."
Kael focused harder, his gaze fixed on the flickering spark. He tried to picture the flow of ichor in his mind, imagining it as a thin thread feeding the flame.
The spark burned a little brighter.
"Not bad," the system said, sounding genuinely impressed. "For a beginner, anyway."
Kael smirked. "High praise coming from you."
The spark sputtered suddenly, and Kael's eyes widened. He tried to force it back, pouring more ichor into his palm, but the flame winked out with a faint puff of smoke.
"Dammit," he muttered, clenching his fist.
"And that," the system said pointedly, "is why forcing it doesn't work. I told you, Kael—smooth and steady. Ichor isn't something you can brute force. You've gotta coax it, like feeding a fire."
Kael sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. No forcing. Let's try again."
"That's the spirit," the system said. "Now stop talking and focus."
Kael lost track of how many times he summoned the spark, only for it to sputter out seconds later. Each failure stung, but he kept going, fueled by the faint thrill of progress.
By the time the sun dipped lower in the sky, his body was drenched in sweat, his arms shaking from the effort of channeling ichor over and over again.
"You've been at this for hours," the system said, a hint of exasperation creeping into its voice. "The daily quest is done, Kael. You don't have to keep pushing."
Kael ignored it, summoning the spark again. This time, he managed to hold it for almost ten seconds before it fizzled out. He exhaled sharply, wiping his forehead.
"Seriously," the system continued. "You're gonna burn yourself out if you keep going like this. What are you trying to prove?"
Kael sat back, catching his breath. He glanced toward the house, where his mother was likely still working on dinner.
"I'm not trying to prove anything," he said finally. "I'm trying to get strong enough to protect her. And if I'm going to do that, I can't stop at the bare minimum. The Twelve Families can control their ichor at three. I'm starting at zero, and that means I've gotta work twice as hard."
The system was silent for a moment. Then, with a faintly mocking tone, it said: "Aw, look at you. All serious and determined. You're gonna make me cry."
Kael smirked. "Keep talking, and I'll make sure you cry for real."
"Oh no. I'm terrified," the system deadpanned. "What's next, a motivational speech about never giving up?"
Kael grinned, shaking his head. "Not from me. I'll just show you."
"Good luck with that, tough guy," the system shot back.
By the time Kael dragged himself back to the house, his body was completely spent. His arms ached, his legs felt like lead, and even breathing felt like work.
But for the first time in a long while, he felt… good. Accomplished.
The faint flickers of progress were small, almost imperceptible, but they were there.
As he collapsed onto his bed that night, staring at the darkened ceiling, he clenched his fist.
"You'll get there," the system said quietly, its usual sarcasm replaced by something softer.
Kael smirked. "You'd better believe it."
Sleep came quickly after that, carrying him into dreams filled with sparks and fire.