I clench my teeth and shove myself upright, fingers curling into fists. “This is pointless.”
“It’s only pointless because you’re trying to see.” His voice is steady, sharp. But I hear his patience thinning. “You rely too much on what’s in front of you. The world isn’t something you can predict, Amara. You think your eyes will always show you the truth? They won’t.”
I roll my eyes even though he can’t see them. “And my instincts will?”
“Yes.”
His boots scuff against the ground, circling me, forcing me to turn, to listen. To guess.
But it’s not enough.
A sharp crack—his strike lands before I can react. Again.
I snarl, swinging blind—but he is already gone, moving like a shadow, uncatchable.
Frustration curls hot in my core. No—deeper than that. Desperation.
The connection to Calryx keeps growing stronger. It’s been building with every step, every breath.
She’s waiting.
And I’m here, stuck. Failing.
“Stop reaching for control,” Thane growls. “Trust what’salready there.”
My hands curl into fists at my sides. “And what if I can’t?”
Silence.
Then—”Then you’ll fall.”
The words hit like a slap. I exhale.
Steady. Slow.
Stillness.
I let the frustration settle; let go of the urge to anticipate. And I listen. Start feeling.
I let the Air element move through me.
The shift of air.
The tension of movement.
The quiet hum of presence.
A flicker of instinct—
Thane moves.
And this time, when he strikes, I’m ready. I don’t hesitate. I turn and block him mid-strike, effortless. Precise.
He stills. A soft sound escapes him—almost like approval.
And in that moment, I understand.
The wind howls around me.
