"Perhaps," Frigga said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "But remember—puppeteer implies control without consequence. With Seidr, every tug you make has a response. Every movement echoes back. You must listen as much as you act. Otherwise, the forms break, and the weave punishes carelessness."
Alex rubbed the back of his neck, already imagining threads of light spinning wildly around him. "Great… so I'm babysitting a dozen things that could implode if I sneeze."
Frigga chuckled softly. "More than that. They will resist, challenge, even collide with one another. Your task is to guide them without asserting brute force. Flow, anticipate, adapt."
Alex leaned back, a mix of dread and excitement twisting in his chest. "And how long are we talking? Whole day?"
"Yes," Frigga said calmly. "You will learn in hours what would take others months. Today, you will not rest until the weave itself recognizes your intent. That is why your mind must remain sharper than your body. If fatigue overwhelms you, the forms will betray you."
Alex groaned, but the spark in his eyes refused to dim. "Alright… let's see if this Midgardian can survive a symphony of magical chaos."
Frigga gave a small nod of approval. "Good. Tomorrow, you will begin. And remember—listening is just as important as commanding. Your success will depend on how well you understand the forms before you even touch them."
Alex took a deep breath, already feeling the threads of the weave teasing the edges of his consciousness. "I guess it's not just about making them dance… it's about making sure they dance with me, and not against me."
"Exactly," Frigga said, her tone sharp but approving. "And when you can do that… only then will you truly begin to master the art of creation in motion."
Alex let out a slow exhale, a mixture of apprehension and excitement. "Alright then… bring on the storm."
The chamber fell into quiet again, runestones pulsing faintly as if acknowledging the resolve of the Midgardian who was about to step into a higher level of Seidr—a dance of creation, resistance, and instinct that would test every ounce of his mind and spirit.
The next morning, Alex returned to the chamber, muscles still sore but his mind sharper than ever. The runestones were arranged in a more complex pattern than before, layers of spirals twisting around one another. Thin threads of light shimmered faintly, almost as if the weave itself was testing him, gauging his readiness.
Frigga stood at the center, calm and steady. "Today, you guide more than one form. They will move, push against each other, and resist. You must lead, not force. Remember what we discussed: listen as much as you act."
Alex nodded, taking a deep breath. "Alright. Let's see if I can conduct a magical orchestra without setting the stage on fire."
He placed his hands above the stones and summoned two spheres of light. They hovered, glowing steadily, but almost immediately, they started drifting toward each other, colliding and bouncing back. Threads tugged sharply at his mind, and his arms trembled as he tried to keep them apart.
"Do not fight them," Frigga reminded softly. "Guide, don't push."
Alex closed his eyes, feeling the pull and push of the threads. Slowly, he let the spheres interact naturally, nudging them gently instead of forcing their paths. The collisions became smoother, the forms beginning to respond to his intent.
"Now add a third," Frigga said. "Each one must move independently, but you must hold them all in harmony."
Alex's heart raced. Another orb rose into the lattice, spinning unpredictably. The three forms pulled at him from different directions. Sweat dripped down his face, and his arms shook, but he forced himself to breathe, letting the threads flow through him rather than against him.
Minutes felt like hours, but gradually, the spheres began to orbit each other like dancers in a carefully choreographed routine. The weave pulsed in response, acknowledging his control.
Frigga's voice was calm, but full of pride. "Good. You are learning to anticipate, to react without resistance. This is not just control—it is partnership with the weave."
Alex collapsed onto the bench, muscles burning, chest heaving. "Feels… like I've been wrestling and dancing at the same time."
Frigga smiled faintly. "Exactly. And tomorrow, you will add more forms, more interaction. Your endurance, focus, and instinct will be tested further. But you are ready."
Alex wiped his face and managed a tired grin. "Ready… as I'll ever be. Let's see how chaotic this orchestra can really get."
The runestones pulsed softly, and for the first time, Alex felt the threads of Seidr not just as energy to control, but as a partner in the dance—a living rhythm that would push him to grow stronger, sharper, and wiser with each step.
The following day, Alex returned, muscles still sore and his arms aching from the previous trial, but an eager spark burned in his eyes. The runestones were arranged in a vast, layered spiral, almost twice the size of yesterday's. Faint arcs of energy danced between them, more complex, more erratic, as if the weave itself was teasing him.
Frigga stood beside the lattice, calm and measured. "Today, you will guide five forms simultaneously. Each will move independently, resist differently, and test your focus. You must coordinate them, not dominate them."
Alex blinked at the setup. "Five? Are you trying to break me or teach me?"
"Both," Frigga said with a faint smile. "But remember: control is not brute force. Flow, anticipate, and listen. The weave is alive—it reacts to your intent, your hesitation, and even your doubt."
He swallowed, then extended his hands over the runestones. Five spheres of light rose immediately, each glowing steadily, but within moments they darted unpredictably, colliding and spinning out of line. Threads tugged sharply at his mind, jerking in directions he hadn't anticipated.
"Guide them, don't force them," Frigga reminded, her voice calm but insistent.
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