MORNING
Dawn broke over the wilderness. Day twenty-two.
Draven walked toward Malvorn's meditation spot, Genesis Codex hovering beside him. The Grimoire's green-gold glow brightened slightly—soft pulse indicating activation.
"Good morning, Draven." Malvorn's thoughts reached him clearly. Not spoken aloud. No earthquake. No tremor. Just thought to thought, mind to mind, facilitated through Codex's telepathic relay.
This was how they conversed normally now. Telepathic communication through Genesis Codex, a gift that had transformed their daily interactions. Malvorn could share thoughts without worrying about vocal magnitude destroying the surrounding forest. Practical. Efficient. Peaceful.
"Morning," Draven responded mentally, feeling the familiar warmth of the telepathic connection. Like speaking through clear water—slightly different texture than normal speech, but perfectly understandable. "How was the night meditation?"
"Deep. Reached magma chamber within minutes now. Connection feels... natural. Like breathing. No longer requires effort."
"Good. Ready for morning session?"
"Always."
The Codex's glow dimmed slightly as the casual conversation ended. Normal communication complete—zero earthquakes, zero destruction, just two beings sharing thoughts across distance.
But training? Training required vocal control. Speaking aloud with actual voice, actual vocal cords vibrating, actual frequency emission that caused seismic disruption. That's where the real work happened. That's what needed mastery.
"Today we focus on voice," Draven said aloud—demonstrating the difference. Physical speech. "You've maintained magnitude three for walking this past week. Now we work on matching that vocally. Speaking my name at magnitude three or lower, consistently."
Malvorn nodded, understanding the distinction. Closed his eyes. Sank awareness into earth—communion first, always. The foundation upon which everything else built. Felt planetary heartbeat five hundred kilometers down. Felt his connection to tectonic forces. Felt the unity between self and stone.
Then opened his mouth to speak aloud. Not telepathically. Actual voice.
"Draven."
Magnitude three earthquake.
Ground trembled. Not catastrophic. Not splitting open or buckling violently. Just... shaking. Trees swayed in the seismic wave. River rippled outward from the disturbance. Birds startled but didn't flee entirely—getting used to the daily tremors that accompanied training sessions.
Improvement. Clear, measurable improvement. Magnitude three. Same as his walking control now. Consistent across different modalities.
But still too loud. Magnitude three remained earthquake-level. Real conversations—the kind where people could stand comfortably nearby without bracing themselves—required magnitude one or two. Barely perceptible tremors. Safe enough for proximity to mortals.
"Excellent," Draven called out, genuine praise in his voice. "Magnitude three. You're matching your walking control vocally now. That's significant progress. But we need magnitude two next. Then one. Conversational level where others can be near you safely. Keep trying."
---
Through the bond, the pack observed and commented.
"Magnitude three consistent across modalities." Velnar's ancient voice carried analytical satisfaction. "Voice matches movement. Good sign—unified control emerging rather than fragmented skills."
"But still too shaky for normal talking!" Feyra's enthusiasm bubbled through. "Keep going, Malvorn! You're getting there!"
"Telepathic communication remains magnitude zero." Zor's practical observation held approval. "Vocal training necessary for full integration, but telepathy sufficient for daily needs. Functional solution already exists."
"Patience." Sylvara's gentle wisdom resonated. "Magnitude two next week, perhaps. Then one. Then safe. Layer by layer, as all things grow."
---
"Progress remains steady," Adhivar confirmed in Draven's mind, his weekly assessment arriving like clockwork. "Magnitude three is stable now. Achieved across all modalities—movement, speech, action. Foundation solid. Refinement to magnitude two will take another week of focused practice. Then magnitude one the week after that. Timeline intact."
"Three more weeks?" Draven calculated mentally. "That puts us at day forty-three. Still forty-seven days before Raziel's deadline. Comfortable margin."
"Correct. No cause for concern. Continue current methodology. Results speak for themselves."
---
AFTERNOON
The sun climbed toward afternoon heat. Malvorn had attempted vocal control fifteen times since morning. Every attempt registered the same result.
"Draven." Magnitude three.
"Draven." Magnitude three.
Trying to whisper, barely exhaling the name. Magnitude three.
Humming it instead, low rumble in his massive chest. Magnitude three.
Breathing it like wind through leaves. Magnitude three.
Fifteen attempts. Zero variation. Stuck at magnitude three like hitting an invisible ceiling that refused to yield.
Malvorn stopped. Sat down—magnitude three impact even in sitting, the tremor registering his frustration through earth. Molten eyes reflected something Draven hadn't seen in days: discouraged confusion.
"I cannot go lower," Malvorn communicated telepathically, reverting to thought-speech. "Three is my limit. I feel it like a wall. Cannot pass this barrier no matter what approach I try."
"Plateaus happen," Draven thought back through Codex's telepathic link, keeping his mental voice calm and reassuring. "You're consolidating. Your body learning to maintain magnitude three consistently before dropping lower. This is completely normal in any training. Week ago you were magnitude four. Now three is stable across everything you do. Breakthrough to two will come. Just needs time."
"How much time?"
"As long as it takes. Patience, Malvorn. You're doing everything right. Your body needs time to adapt fully before the next layer becomes accessible."
But Draven felt his own doubt stirring. Fifteen attempts with no variation? Usually there was at least some fluctuation, some sign of progress approaching. This felt... stuck.
"The plateau is teacher," Adhivar's voice resonated in Draven's mind, responding to his unspoken concern. Calm. Patient. Ancient wisdom undisturbed by temporary obstacles.
"Explain?" Draven requested silently.
"Malvorn fights to reach magnitude two. But has he mastered magnitude three? Can he hold it while walking AND speaking simultaneously? Can he maintain it for hours without wavering? Can he achieve it instantly, without meditation preparation first?"
Draven understood immediately. "He's stable at three for single actions. But hasn't mastered it completely. Hasn't integrated it fully into being."
"Precisely. Control builds in layers, like sedimentary stone. Magnitude three must become effortless before magnitude two becomes accessible. Tell him: Stop pushing lower. Perfect current level. Walk and speak simultaneously at magnitude three. Maintain it continuously throughout the day. When three becomes natural as breathing, two will arrive without force."
Draven nodded to himself. Turned to face Malvorn across the clearing. Time to relay wisdom and shift approach.
"New exercise," Draven called out. "Stop trying to reach magnitude two. Instead, master magnitude three completely. Walk while speaking. Maintain three for both simultaneously. Say my name with each step."
Malvorn's confusion was palpable even at a hundred meters. "That is... not pushing forward. That is practicing what I already achieved."
"Exactly. You achieved magnitude three for single actions. Now achieve it for everything at once. Walk. Talk. Move. All at magnitude three simultaneously. When you master the plateau, the breakthrough comes naturally."
Malvorn stood slowly. Sank awareness into earth. Felt communion settling into his bones. Lifted his foot—
"Draven."
Step. Magnitude three walking. Magnitude four speech.
Focus split between the two actions. Couldn't maintain both at the same level. Awareness fractured between movement and voice, communion spreading too thin across multiple demands.
He stopped immediately. "This is... harder. Much harder than I expected. Communion splits. Cannot hold both actions at three simultaneously."
"Exactly," Draven confirmed, feeling Adhivar's satisfaction through their bond. "That's what you need to learn. Not individual control. Unified communion. Control everything simultaneously, not one thing at a time. That's true mastery."
Malvorn attempted again. And again. And again.
Walking magnitude three, speech magnitude four.
Walking magnitude four, speech magnitude three.
Walking magnitude three, speech magnitude five—divided attention making control worse.
After the eighth attempt, Malvorn sat heavily. Magnitude four impact—even his sitting had degraded from practicing poorly. "I cannot do this. Cannot split communion. It fractures."
"Because you're treating communion as resource to divide," Draven explained, drawing on Adhivar's guidance flowing through their partnership. "It's not resource. It's state of being. You don't split being. You simply are, and all actions flow from that unified state."
But the words felt hollow. Philosophical. Malvorn clearly didn't grasp it yet, and Draven couldn't find better way to explain what Adhivar was trying to teach.
The afternoon ended in frustrated impasse.
---
EVENING
Evening fell over the wilderness, stars emerging like distant campfires in gathering darkness. Malvorn sat in meditation, magnitude zero—stillness remained effortless despite afternoon's struggles. But frustration lingered, coloring his thoughts.
"Cannot control walking and speaking simultaneously. Focus splits. Communion breaks. Why?"
He sank deeper into earth. Felt magma five hundred kilometers down, flowing in currents unchanged for millions of years. Felt tectonic rhythm grinding out planetary heartbeat. Felt the endless, patient existence of stone.
Earth does not "focus" on existing. Earth simply exists. Movement and voice and being—all simultaneous. All natural. All one continuous reality.
The thought crystallized slowly, like frost forming on glass.
"I treat communion like action. Something I do. Something requiring effort and attention. I sink awareness. I feel earth. I maintain connection. All verbs. All actions requiring conscious focus."
"But Adhivar said: I AM earth. Not separate. Not performing earth-communion. Not wielding earth-power. I. Am. Earth."
"If I truly AM earth..."
"...then communion should be default state. Not action requiring focus. Natural state requiring no thought at all. Like breathing. Like existing. Simply what I am."
His eyes opened. Molten gold bright in darkness, understanding illuminating from within.
"I have been approaching this wrong from the beginning. Not communion as technique to master. Communion as identity to accept."
---
"Draven," Malvorn's thoughts reached across darkness through Codex's telepathic link. Urgent. Excited. "I understand now. I have been treating communion as skill. Action requiring focus. But it is not action. It is identity."
Draven sat up in his tent, immediately alert. "Identity?"
"I am not beast performing earth communion. I AM earth. Communion is not what I do. It is what I am. The difference is... everything. When I walk and speak, I try to divide focus between communion and action. But there is no division. It is all one reality. I am earth moving. I am earth speaking. Not earth-beast trying to control earth-power."
Draven smiled in darkness, feeling the profound shift in understanding. Felt Adhivar's presence stirring warmly within Codex.
"He understands," Adhivar confirmed, paternal pride evident in his ancient voice. "Conceptual breakthrough. Philosophy precedes physics always. Physical control will follow naturally now. Tomorrow, he will walk and speak simultaneously with ease. Identity realized manifests as effortless control."
---
Through the bond, the pack celebrated.
"Beautiful." Sylvara's voice carried gentle joy. "He sees truth now. Not technique but being. The foundation of all true mastery."
"Four hundred years old, and I still learn from watching him." Velnar's ancient wisdom held respectful appreciation. "Identity precedes mastery always. Control flows from understanding who you are."
"Tomorrow he will surprise himself with ease of control." Zor's certainty resonated like distant thunder.
"This is so exciting! He figured it out!" Feyra's enthusiasm practically vibrated. "Philosophy breakthrough! The best kind!"
---
Day twenty-two ended with stars wheeling overhead in their eternal dance.
Week of magnitude three. Frustration. Plateau that felt like wall. Then breakthrough—not physical but conceptual. Understanding shift that would transform everything.
Malvorn meditated peacefully in the darkness. Not practicing communion. Simply being communion. Simply existing as what he was: earth given consciousness, stone made sentient, planetary force wearing beast-shape.
Tomorrow would prove truth of insight.
Sixty-eight days remaining until Raziel's deadline. Still on track. Still improving. Still healing—though healing now took different forms. Physical control mattered. But understanding who he was beneath the trauma, beneath the two hundred years of forced destruction? That mattered more.
Three souls learning together in wilderness isolation. Partner teaching student. Student teaching himself through realization. Ancient wisdom guiding both with patient certainty.
Progress continued. Layer by layer. Like sedimentary stone compressed over eons. Slowly. Steadily. Certainly.
The World Destroying Behemoth sat in darkness and understood, finally, what it meant to be earth itself.
Tomorrow would show what that understanding meant for control.
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