The academy grounds were unusually quiet at dawn, the faint light of the rising sun casting long shadows across the empty training field. Orin stood in the center, gripping the hilt of his katana, his breaths visible in the crisp morning air.
He had come here before the day's lessons, determined to push himself further. The events of the previous day—the duel between Reynard and Darius, Cassandra's cryptic offer—still weighed heavily on his mind.
"Focus," he muttered to himself.
Unsheathing the katana, he stepped into a basic stance. The artifact in his chest pulsed faintly, feeding energy into his body. His first attempt at activating Spirit Step was clumsy, his movements awkward and unbalanced. He stumbled forward, nearly losing his grip on the blade.
"Not good enough," he growled, resetting his stance.
---
Morning Training and Uncertainty
Over and over, Orin practiced, the hours slipping away as the sun rose higher into the sky. Each time he activated Spirit Step, he felt the artifact's energy surge through him, but controlling it was like trying to tame a wild animal.
"Again," he said through gritted teeth.
By the time he finally collapsed onto the grass, drenched in sweat, his body ached with exhaustion. His katana lay beside him, its edge glinting faintly in the sunlight.
"I can't keep relying on this artifact," he muttered. "If I can't control it, I'll just—"
"You'll what? Fall flat on your face again?"
Orin sat up, startled. Standing a few feet away was Cassandra Aelmire, her arms crossed and her expression smug. She wore her academy uniform today, the E- Rank badge pinned neatly to her chest.
"What are you doing here?" Orin asked, wiping his brow.
"Watching you flail around, apparently," she said, stepping closer. "You've got the determination, I'll give you that. But determination without direction?" She shook her head. "That'll only get you so far."
---
Cassandra's Observation
Orin frowned. "I don't need advice from you."
"Really? Because it looks like you could use all the advice you can get," Cassandra replied, her green eyes glinting with amusement. "You're trying to brute force it. That's not going to work—not with something like Spirit Step."
"And you're an expert now?" Orin shot back.
Cassandra smirked. "Not an expert, but I know how to spot someone who's fighting against themselves. You're treating Spirit Step like it's a skill you can just… force. It's not about force. It's about flow."
Orin hesitated, glancing at his katana. "Flow?"
Cassandra nodded, sitting on the edge of a nearby training bench. "Spirit Step isn't just a physical skill. It's tied to your Soul Core, your energy. If you're tense or unfocused, the energy won't respond the way you want it to. You have to move with it, not against it."
For a moment, Orin considered brushing her off. But something about her words struck a chord. He picked up his katana and stood, his legs trembling slightly.
"Flow, huh?" he muttered, adjusting his grip.
---
A Small Breakthrough
Closing his eyes, Orin took a deep breath, focusing on the faint hum of the artifact within him. This time, instead of forcing the energy outward, he let it flow naturally, syncing his movements with the pulse of his Soul Core.
When he stepped forward, the world blurred for a split second. He reappeared a few feet away, his katana slicing cleanly through the air. The movement was smoother, more controlled.
Orin opened his eyes, his chest heaving. "That… felt different."
"Better, right?" Cassandra said, standing and dusting off her uniform. "You'll still need practice, but at least you're not tripping over your own feet anymore."
Orin gave her a wary look. "Why are you helping me?"
Cassandra smiled, though there was a hint of something deeper in her expression. "Like I said yesterday, I see potential. And I like seeing potential grow. Besides…" She shrugged. "It's entertaining."
Orin sighed. "You're impossible."
"And you're welcome," Cassandra replied, walking away. "Try not to overdo it. We wouldn't want you collapsing before the day's lessons."
---
The Academy Lessons
Later that morning, Orin found himself seated at the back of the lecture hall, his body still sore from training. The instructor, a tall man with a neatly trimmed beard, droned on about the history of the Eldryn Kingdom and its founding heroes.
Orin's attention wandered as his eyes scanned the room. Reynard sat near the front, surrounded by his companions. Amara was diligently taking notes, while Darius leaned back in his chair, looking bored. Selene was sketching runes in the margins of her notebook, and Luther… Luther was staring directly at Orin.
Orin stiffened under the shadow mage's piercing green gaze. Luther's expression was unreadable, but there was something unsettling about the way he seemed to be studying Orin, as if searching for a weakness.
"What's his problem?" Orin muttered to himself.
---
Finn's Warning
As the lecture ended, Finn caught up to Orin in the hallway. "You okay? You looked kind of tense back there."
"Luther was staring at me," Orin said.
Finn frowned. "Yeah, he does that. Don't let it get to you. The guy's always scheming something."
"That's… not reassuring."
"Welcome to Class A," Finn said with a grin. "Everyone's either a prodigy or a predator."
Orin sighed, his grip tightening on the strap of his bag. "Great."
---
Foreshadowing the Artifact
That night, Orin sat alone in his room, staring at the katana resting against the wall. The faint hum of the artifact was stronger now, its warmth spreading through his chest like a heartbeat.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something about it was changing. It wasn't just a tool—it was alive, in its own strange way.
"What are you?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
The artifact didn't answer, but its pulse quickened, as if in anticipation.