Reina stood once again in the center of a different training hall—a place called Aksara Bhumi, the Land that Responds to Soul Energy. The circular chamber was lined with black stone walls, lit by soft glowing crystals embedded in the ceiling. The space felt alive, as if it were listening—listening to every breath, every footstep, and every shred of doubt.
But that morning was different.
There were no more shouted orders to run laps, no more push-ups until vomiting. That day, Reina moved with smoother, more measured, more balanced movements. Her grip on the wooden sword was steady. Her footwork began to synchronize with her breath. Her arrows flew farther and more accurately than before. She even succeeded in casting two basic protection spells—and one minor weakening charm.
It wasn’t anything extraordinary in Swantara. Children there usually mastered such abilities by the age of ten. But for Reina, a human from the real world, these accomplishments in just two days… were a giant leap.
"Good," Radeeva commented, offering her a water pouch with a gentle smile. "In two days, you’ve surpassed most of our expectations. Don’t underestimate yourself, Reina. Even the calm you show when casting—that’s something many take years to learn."
Reina nodded softly, still breathless. Her face was damp with sweat, but her eyes sparkled. “I thought I’d pass out on the first day and get sent home as a failed project,” she muttered.
“There’s still a chance of that,” came a deep voice from behind—Bhirendra.
Reina snorted. Radeeva shot him a sharp glare. Bhirendra, as usual, stood leaning against a stone pillar, arms folded across his chest. His expression unreadable, though his eyes never stopped evaluating Reina, as if deciding whether this new blade was sharp enough for battle—or merely a burden.
“If you really want to survive,” he said coolly, “focus on your strengths. Close combat doesn’t suit your slow reflexes and overly rational instincts. But... spells. Magic. That could be your weapon.”
Reina paused, then nodded. She could feel it too—how the ring on her finger responded each time she invoked a spell. As if… something within her had always been waiting.
“But when it comes to fighting, I’m already here to be your shield. And if I’m busy, well—there’s always him,” Bhirendra nodded toward Radeeva, “you can use him as a decoy.”
Reina nearly spat out her water. Radeeva blinked, dumbfounded.
“I deeply apologize for his lack of social skills,” Radeeva said dryly, then snapped his fingers, launching a tiny spray of fire sparks toward Bhirendra. But with a flick of his own fingers, Bhirendra deflected the energy upward, dimming the ceiling lights momentarily.
“You really should learn some social etiquette, Bhirendra,” Radeeva muttered, shaking his head. “You talk about sacrifice like you're drafting a war report. Have you ever had a normal interaction with a woman?”
“A woman? Or an emotional creature?” Bhirendra replied flatly.
“A creature with a heart, not stone,” Reina cut in. “Unfortunately, you seem far more familiar with stone.”
They stared at each other. The room fell silent—until a small laugh escaped Reina. She couldn’t help it, seeing these two strong figures bantering like children. For the first time, that day’s training felt... lighter. More human. But deep down, Reina knew: this was only the beginning. Because the shadow of the first artifact was already calling. And time was running short.
---
Training resumed under the bright orange sky of Swantara—a midday sun that never quite warmed. This time, Reina had to face a more difficult challenge: one-on-one combat.
Her first opponent was Radeeva—swift, sharp, and moving like a dancer with every strike. Reina was no match for him, but every failed move, she memorized. Every opening, she noted. Her body might fall, but her mind and eyes remained upright.
Next was the stone of the earth himself—Bhirendra. A solid figure, forged from steel and sheer will. No matter how fast Reina tried to move, he only needed the lightest touch to bring her down. Still, she stood back up—breathless, but determined. She knew this wasn’t about winning. It was a test of endurance, awareness… and the courage to keep looking her opponent in the eyes, even when outmatched.
But just as she launched into another movement, a gentle rustling sound filled the room.
From the side of Bhirendra’s belt, small particles of light began to swirl. The air warmed slightly, like a misplaced season had brushed the hall. Talarka—a magical long-distance communication artifact—had awakened.
Tiny particles like golden dust floated upward, forming a delicate vortex. A voice emerged from the shimmering mist, echoing through the chamber:
“We’ve found unidentified traces in the southern woods, near the dimensional border wall. Human footsteps—singular. Reinforced by foreign energy signatures... possibly from outside Swantara.”
The voice belonged to Pramudya, the deputy commander of the main fortress.
Reina spun toward it, her face paling, but a flicker of hope shimmered in her eyes. “Adit… could it be Adit?”
The Talarka slowly dissolved, the magical dust dissipating like incense smoke—then vanished completely, as if blown away by a wind from another world. Only silence remained… and Reina’s heartbeat thundering in her ears.
Radeeva furrowed his brows, turning to Reina. “Who’s Adit?”
“My research partner. We came together… but we were separated entering the rift. I… I don’t know if he survived.” Reina’s tone was steady, but sorrow lingered at the edge of her words.
Radeeva snapped his head toward Bhirendra, his face darkening. “You didn’t report something this important to the Elders or the Mage Council?!” he roared, the echo booming off the stone walls.
Bhirendra remained calm. He picked up his fallen sword with slow precision. “Not everything needs your approval.”
His reply cracked through the air like a silent thunderclap.
Radeeva’s face flushed red with fury. Without another word, he turned and stormed out of the hall, his footsteps ringing against the carved marble floor.
Reina stood frozen. Her breathing ragged. She stared at the two figures who had always felt like opposing poles—destined to repel each other, yet bound together nonetheless.
Fire and detonation, she thought wryly.
Radeeva was a flame—empathetic, burning, quick to ignite. Bhirendra… was cold steel—one spark away from explosion. They seemed like they wanted to destroy each other, yet somehow, they were always watching the other’s back.
Their relationship was too complex for Reina to understand.
And in the eye of their storm… she had to learn to stand on her own.