Kyrion awoke in a crater ten feet off of a small pond. He imagined that his back was hurt quite a bit, but he couldn’t feel anything as he scrambled to his feet and dusted himself off out of habit.  

 

Kyrion stood in the middle of a small garden. Lightly colored flowers decorate the environment encircling a pond where a familiar blue swan seemed to have taken up residence. Outside of the garden was a desert wasteland for as far as the eye could see. The sun peeked out from above the clouds, and a light shone down on the lake. Coating the swan in a layer of radiance as it seemed to be waiting for something.

 

Kyrion approached Issac. “What do you want?” he asked the bird. A bad feeling passing through him.

 

“I, the great Sir Issac of the Cerulean Swans, greet you humbly. It has come to my attention that we have been stranded here as a response to your inept control over me and my gifts. I spray you with water, enhance your appearance, and increase your balance. Yet the only thing that seems to matter with you is the balance.” The swan sighs dramatically.

 

“That makes three. How are you speaking? I’m sure I haven’t created a medium for you yet.”

 

“We’re deep within your spirit core. Which means our communication is a bit more intimate and direct.”

 

“So… are you gonna let me out?”

“You were in a lake, and didn’t even try to harness my power did you? You aren’t getting out until you have trained enough to use my powers. Watching you fight is painful, all you do is stand there most of the time. You

were kind of useless for most battles. We are going to start with balance. Stand on that lily pad overthere on one foot until I say otherwise.”

 

Kyrion looked at the bird with a skeptical look on his face. “Why?”

 

“Because you need my persimmon to leave, and I’m salty about you not showing people my greatness.” Issac said in a purely serious tone.

 

“You are one vain bird, you know that right?”

 

“What can I say? It’s in my nature.” Issac rubbed a small cowlick-like feather attempting to push it down. The feather poked right back up three seconds later. “Chop chop, get to standing. Time’s a wastin.”

 

Kyrion put one foot on the small lily pad, and it began to shake. He lifted his second foot when the whole thing flipped sideways, causing the boy to fall into the water.

 

Kyrion never learned how to swim. There was never any need back home. Farmland was farmland, and the lakes and rivers tended to either be for gathering necessities. None of this occurred to the eighth-year-old before stepping onto the lilypad. But as he began to drown and started flailing about in panic, he could swear he heard laughing.

 

Eventually, Kyrion sunk like a rock into the depths of the three-foot-deep pond. Then, he stood up, looked at the laughing bird, and squinted. “You knew this would happen didn’t you.”

 

“You could say the odds were sixty fourty, not in your favor. The water here doesn’t work like water in the real world since you’re not here physically, but your senses will play tricks on you. So long as you don’t do anything too stupid, you’ll survive. Now try again!” Issac commanded from his relatively safe center of the pond.

 

Kyrion continued trying to stand on various lily pads for an interminable amount of time. He lost track of how many attempts it took before he managed to stay standing on one with both feet planted. Getting on was hard, but it seemed, staying on one was much easier.

 

“Great, now we can begin your real training!” Issac said.

A month had passed since Kyrion had been out of it. Damian’s group had met up for their weekly training session. Everyone in the group had managed to get into rank three, as they trained vigorously. The third trial was going to be a group combat. So they decided to get as strong as possible. A month from now would be the power showcase, where they would show off in front of an audience of experts. One of the two noncombat trails out there.

 

Damian looked to his groupmates. “You have all made good progress. From here on out focus on training your minds and bodies. Most of us have 3+ years to become a practitioner so there isn’t any rush. From here on out we will be training much harder in preparation for the team fighting trial. In between sessions feel free to do what you can to further your own abilities.”.

 

“Aye aye captain.” Everest stated while the others just seemed to nod.

 

Kiara and Wura left to work on their own abilities together. They had been getting along more since the trail. You could almost think they were best friends if they talked more. However, Wura was blunt at times, so certain conversation topics were off the table with her.

 

Noah and Damian seemed to get wrapped up in whatever antics Everest had planned during their free time. Their tailor friend had shown extraordinary growth since the trial, and his training regimen was just as vigorous as Damians in many ways.

 

 Damian and Noah focused on engaging their targets in a one-on-one fight. While Everest chose to evade everything that came his way and lead his targets into traps.

Their sparring matches proved to benefit all three of them.

 

Asela and Nico trained together still, but most of their time was spent visiting the former’s brother. On occasion, Nico would read a book to him while he was sleeping. Sometimes Asela passed out during these readings. It was some dry reading.

The teachers said that waking up would depend on his own effort and not to worry about it. But, of course, the teachers don’t know that her brother hated putting in an effort.She would bet her desert that he was probably just lazing around waiting for it to get done on its own.

Kyrion stood balancing on one leg on a lily pad as Isaac threw balls made from water at him. He dodged each with miniscule motions and at the last possible moment.

 

The balls started coming faster and in more quantities until one hit and Kyrion was knocked off balance. Falling into the water for the umpteenth time today. Was it today? Kyrion didn’t get tired here, nor did he get hungry. Time had begun to feel iffy.

 

“Did you know that cashews come from a fruit?” Kyrion asked as a stray thought ran through his head.

 

“What? No, why are you getting distracted? Well you’re good enough to move on it seems. Get back on that lily pad.” Issac said while he went from confusion to seriousness.

 

Kyrion climbed back onto his small lily pad and stood there with both feet planted without the slightest ripples in the water.

 

“Great. Now step onto the water?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Put one foot on the surface of the water.” Issac reiterated.

 

Kyrion did so and felt that it was almost as hard as solid ground.

 

“Now your other foot.”

 

Kyrion obliged as his second foot hit the solid water.

 

“Great, now that you can run, it’s time to learn how to walk. Water manipulation is about balance and control. What you’re doing right now is probably one of the hardest things you can learn for humans. Since they don’t tend to be born as water fowls. That feeling on your feet, is the water's surface tension increasing to accommodate you. Now get out of the water. This will be the last thing I teach you.”

 

Kyrion walked across the water slowly and curiously as Issac talked. He even ran around a bit before he started jumping up and down on the surface. Kyrion was having fun until a watery tendril grabbed him by foot and flung him to the surface.

 

“What was that for!”

 

“You’re in crunch time. I suggest you get this part done before you start playing around.” Issac said.

 

“Oh yeah…” Kyrion seemed to have forgotten that he was trapped here.

 

“That feeling you felt from the water try to draw it towards you.”

 

Kyrion reached out towards the water and latched on with his mana. It was a pretty simple process.

 

“Good good. Now bring it to your body.”

 

Kyrion pulled on the water, and a crude tendril came out from the water before falling apart.

 

“Passable. Next time feel the flow of the water as you do it. Also try to visualize the shape you want it to be. You can practice that later however. I have better things to do.”

 

Kyrion felt himself get flung across the world as everything faded into mist. He soon found himself back at the intersection; only three doors remained. Kyrion took the leftmost door. He entered and met face to face with a Jala who seemed very bored.

 

“Oh hey Jala. What will I be learning here?”

 

“You know the basics of what I’m willing to teach you right now.” Jala said, yawning. “Hurry up and wake up. It’s boring here and I like the attention I get out there.”

 

Kyrion raised an eyebrow, turned around, and left. As a second door disappeared. What remained was a door that went straight ahead and another that pointed backward.

 

“That was easy. I kind of feel cheated out of an experience.” Kyrion looked at the two remaining doors. Kyrion assumed the front was his tree, so he took that door.

 

Had Kyrion not been in a hurry to wake up. He would have been a bit more inquisitive.

 

As he pushed it open, he was met with a closed-off building, almost like a shrine of sorts. In the middle was a tree that had seemed to have grown out of the ceiling. From the top of the tree, he saw many different fruits scattered around the room, one of which was the blue pomegranates he produced. Kyrion approached the tree, and as he did, he noticed a pedestal in front of it that seemed to hold a seed encased in an ornate chest. The lid lay open as inside was a familiar-looking seed.

 

Kyrion reached out and touched the seed as memories began to flood through him. The instances in which he used his powers to the point in which he passed out were made clear. It wasn’t him using that power; the seed had taken over during those moments and used his mana forcibly. The knowledge of imparting his will into the plants around him became clear as time grew on. By the end of it, Kyrion had an idea of how his plant abilities worked. The reason he could climb trees so fast was made clear. His will to get to the top was shared with the trees in question. Which let him climb up unhindered as they fed on his mana. His enhanced senses came from the constant regeneration.

 

“Trees eat alot….” Kyrion muttered to himself as he let go of the seed. “Looks like I have a lot to learn.”

 

Kyrion made his way out of the temple and back to the last door. “Well that was also easy. Now for the last door.”

Kyrion walked through and was met with a tragic scene. Kyrion was at his home village. Only it was a wasteland. Homes were destroyed, and fields were scorched. For miles, he could see nothing but devastating. In the center was a man with blood-red hair and pale, sickly skin. In his hand, he held a long porcelain blade. As he turned around, Kyrion saw a man’s face, and he looked a lot like his mother, no like a slightly older version of his own. For some reason, no corpses managed to turn up. As though the village was evacuated. The man looked at Kyrion directly, and a wicked smile showed across his face. A familiar decapitated head in his hands.

 

“Poetic isn’t it. I do what I can to make sure you stay out of my way but here you stand again and again. Foiling my plans, but that’s ok, because some things won’t change. I will kill you and everyone you love as many times as it takes.” The man vanished in a puff of smoke, and the scene changed.

 

Kyrion now stood in front of a hooded figure in black robes. It sat in a very comfortable chair, arms crossed. No matter how Kyrion tried to look at him, nothing changed.

 

“Kyrion, the event you saw is scheduled to occur in twelve years time. Yet it seems forces are trying to expedite things to ensure that you never meet. Destiny is a stubborn mule at times. To put things simply. I was, or am your first spirit. Had things gone as planned, your only spirit. Due to an incident I was trapped here due to the fruit your mother took. Which saved both of your lives. I’m not mad about it, if anything I’m glad. My power will be dormant until you’re strong enough to release the binds and have gathered the necessary resources. Which will be well until you pass the realm of experts.” The figure stopped talking as Kyrion unpacked everything instantly, discerning two lies that he wasn’t going to call out based on tonal infection and similar tells.

 

“So… I was supposed to have you, and not Jala, Issac, and the seed? What can you do?” Kyrion asked.

 

“I am what lies at the beginning and waits past the end. What vanishes when one awakens from a dream. Everlasting and neverending is the nature of my powers.”

 

“I see… So what are you?” Kyrion questioned.

 

“Sigh. I was a death related power that was mutated by your fathers life related genes. So your powers revolved around either being a saint or a monster depending on whose side you were on. This is why your elements tend to have a dual nature. Good for you.” It said,

 

“So you’re psycho, got it.” Kyrion said trying to gauge its reactions.

 

“Cycle!” Psycho seemed a bit too jumpy at that mispronunciation.

 

“Whatever. So get strong. Let you out, and tell my family to leave home within twelve years. I’d ask you where your knowledge comes from but I already have a headache.”

 

“Four spirits is a lot.” Kyrion added.

 

“You’re nemesis has six. So… I suggest you get stronger after you leave.”

 

“You do know I don’t really like fighting. So I’ll stick to healing.” Kyrion caught onto a minor lie. The number six wasn’t a lie but Spirits was. Was Psycho trying to say something else?

 

“Destiny is a cruel mistress.”

 

“What do you mean when you say spirits. I get the feeling it doesn’t mean what I think it means.”

“You aren't capable of comprehending this yet so your brain substitutes it with something in this world's vocabulary.”

 

“Uh huh. Well I don’t like you Psycho. I can’t quite explain why, but I’ll be honest. You creep me out.” Kyrion said with brutal honesty.

 

A little weirded out, Kyrion left the area and found himself back at a crossroads with no doors. He stood where his core was and watched as everything returned to the way things were meant to be. Issac and Jala were seated next to the seed that had begun sprouting again. Behind him was nothing, and Kyrion felt as though he could leave when he was ready.

Kyrion opened his eyes to someone poking at his face with something wet on his lips. Nico stood over the boy looking down on him, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

 

“Welcome back sleeping beauty.” He said as he stood back and examined his handiwork.

 

“Wow… He really does look like a princess.” He heard Damian say.

 

“I don’t know how to feel about this.” Wura said.

 

“Feel about what?” Kyrion wheezed. His throat was parched.

 

Asela passed her brother a mirror, stifling back a giggle. “Here!”

 

Kyrion looked into the mirror, finding something odd. His lips were painted red and his eyes looked funny. They put him in make-up. “I’m too cranky for this. I need a minute.”

 

Kyrion sensed a pool of water in the room and pulled a sphere of it towards himself. It was intuitive, almost too easy. He cleansed his face and then returned it to the bucket.

 

The room went silent as everyone stared at him. “What?”

 

“Looks like we have an ace up our sleeves after all. The third trial is two months away after all.” Everest said jokingly.

 

“Two months? Isn’t that too early? What about the second?” Kyrion asked, confused.

 

“You have been asleep for three months. Welcome back to the land of the waking,” Damian finished.