—If strength was the key, then why did it feel so heavy to hold?
The sky above the Rift didn't look like a sky at all. Veyr still couldn't believe it. Every time he glanced upward, he expected to see the crushing darkness that had swallowed them before. Instead, a dome of fractured color stretched overhead—veins of violet and blue running like lightning across an ocean of pale green. It felt wrong. Like the world was inside out.
"Still staring?" Syra's voice pulled him back to the present. "It won't fall on you, if that's what you're worried about."
Veyr blinked and lowered his gaze. "I'm not worried. Just… trying to decide if this is still real."
"It's real enough to kill you," she replied, cracking her knuckles. "Now focus."
Training in the Rift was unlike anything Veyr had experienced before. The air itself thrummed with Vitra—dense, unrefined, and constantly pressing against his skin like a second heartbeat. It was no wonder the people here developed cores naturally. They breathed power like others breathed air.
Syra circled him like a predator, her sharp eyes scanning his stance.
"You've got a Bastion core," she said. "That means resilience. Endurance. Adaptability. You can take hits and still stand."
Veyr flexed his fingers. "I've done that my whole life."
"No," she snapped. "You survived. That's different from using your core."
Behind them, Colwyn guided Ellie through a quiet exercise. She stood with her eyes closed, arms extended, while wisps of Vitra drifted around her like smoke. Her Astral core—focused on awareness, projection, and distant perception—was responsive, even graceful.
"She's a natural," Syra muttered. "And you?"
Veyr didn't respond. He let the silence answer for him.
Until recently, he hadn't even known he had multiple cores. Now he was told his strongest was a Dominion core, that's at least what he thought,—one so rare not even Syra or Colwyn had trained someone with it before.
"You're not supposed to have that," Syra had said when he told her. "No one here has. Not even the Elders."
Which made sense. Dominion was the will of battle. The power to impose force not just with fists, but with intent. According to Colwyn, masters of Dominion could bend the world itself during combat.
And Veyr had never even tried.
So now, they focused on Bastion first. Build the foundation. Survive before commanding.
A few meters away, Ellie gasped and clutched her head. Colwyn steadied her with a hand on her shoulder.
"She's fine," he said gently. "Her mind just reached too far."
"Tell her to be careful," Veyr called out.
Ellie gave a tired thumbs-up without opening her eyes.
Syra kicked his shin.
"Ow—what?"
"You're distracted," she said. "Let's fix that."
And she lunged.
—
Elsewhere in the Rift village…
Rhen sat on the edge of a flat stone, staring at his hands.
They hadn't given him a trainer. No core practice. Just… waiting.
He understood why. Veyr and Ellie had both shown signs of exceptional potential. Multiple cores. Rare affinities.
And him? Nothing.
Not yet.
He clenched his fists and watched the training from a distance. He'd been there when Ellie fought the Monarch. When Veyr bled just to keep her standing. He'd tried to help. He really had.
But he hadn't been enough.
"I'll catch up," he whispered.
He didn't know how. But he would.
—
That night, when they regrouped, Ellie sat near the fire—quiet, her gaze distant.
She still held the white stone in her hand. Not like a secret, not like something fragile. But like a tether.
They had all seen it before. Rhen had given it to her before the trial. A smooth shard of stone from the outer cliffs, polished by his own hands. Back then, he had said it was to "test her will."
Now, she held it without looking. Her fingers wrapped around it like instinct.
"She hasn't let it go once," Rhen said, softly. "Even when she collapsed after training."
Colwyn didn't speak. He only nodded.
Syra added, "That stone's not magic. But holding on to something can be."
No one argued.
In the Rift, there were no lucky charms. No symbols. Only what you chose to carry with you.
And Ellie had made her choice.
Veyr watched the flames flicker. Tomorrow, they would train again. Harder. Longer.
But tonight… the quiet was enough.