CHAPTER 369: ILLUSION LAYERING

Sweat ran a slow, cooling line along Nyssara’s cheek before slipping under the edge of her jaw, the last visible trace of the work she had just poured into the drills.

She stayed where she was, not moving right away. Her spear was lowered, but her posture still carried that sharp readiness that didn’t ease until given permission.

Thalynae’s eyes stayed on her, not just weighing the number of strikes landed or the precision of her stance, but reading something quieter beneath it.

Whatever she saw earned a single nod.

"Good," she said. "Keep this shape. Next time, we add movement against multiple targets."

Nyssara dipped her head once, stepping back with that same composed pace, her attention sliding toward the twins in the courtyard.

They were still in motion under the shifting shade of the Life Tree, each exchange between them like a silent conversation in strikes and counters.

For a moment, all four of them—Nyssara, the twins, and Thalynae—stood caught in the same invisible triangle, linked not by words but by the shared weight of preparation.

Thalynae looked at them, not as separate students, but as strands already beginning to twist into the same weave.

She could see the outline of what they might become long before they could. Outside these walls, something was building—quiet but sure, like the low pull of air before a storm.

They couldn’t feel it yet, but she could. And here, in this space, she was sharpening edges for when that air turned into wind.

That same quiet focus seemed to follow Ethan into the training hall the next morning.

Compared to the open courtyards, the space was almost hushed, the mats underfoot dulling the sound of his steps.

Sunlight filtered in through tall windows, cutting the air into slow-shifting shapes as clouds drifted above.

Ardis was already there, waiting at the center. She stood with her shoulders straight, hands loosely clasped, her robes falling in soft folds that caught the light just enough to shape her outline.

There was nothing overly staged in her stance—just the kind of natural poise that came from never having to think about it.

Without a word, she tilted her head toward the far side of the hall, where several discs hovered in the air.

They drifted at different heights, never still, sliding in short arcs or vanishing entirely before reappearing somewhere else.

"Illusion layering," she said. "Same parameters as yesterday, but they move faster now. Don’t just avoid their strike projections—make them misread you completely."

Ethan nodded and stepped into position. One of the discs shimmered, its surface rippling like water before it sent out a thin arc of force.

He leaned just outside its path, letting his weight carry him clear—but at the same time, he cast a faint afterimage in the opposite direction.

The disc tracked the false image, firing again where he wasn’t. The second strike cut through empty air.

Ardis’s face didn’t change, but her eyes followed the feint, then flicked back to him, noting how naturally it had come.

The drill repeated. Pass after pass, Ethan kept his real movements tucked just inside the edge of the discs’ awareness while his illusions pulled their aim elsewhere.

Sometimes he landed it perfectly, sliding through the space between their reactions, leaving them turning like they’d lost him.

On one such pass, when the trick worked exactly the way he’d imagined, a quick, unguarded flash of a smile crossed his face.

If he had noticed Ardis had caught it, he wouldn’t have mentioned it. If she hid the smallest answering smile, she gave no sign.

She simply shifted the pattern—two discs shimmering at once, their attacks overlapping. The change forced him to make his illusions sharper, separate enough that they didn’t blur together.

By the time he managed to slip past both in one sequence, his breath had grown heavier, but his focus hadn’t slipped.

The main doors opened mid-session. The sound was soft but clear enough in the quiet that both glanced over.

A tall figure entered—Nyssara Veyn. Her training uniform was dark and close-fitting, cut to give her range without sacrificing its clean lines.

Her deep silver hair caught faint light, tied back with a few loose strands brushing her cheek. Her eyes swept the hall once before settling on them.

She gave Ethan a short nod—polite, but with weight behind it, like a measure taken in an instant. He returned it in kind, his gaze catching on the calm precision of her movements.

"Good timing," Ardis said, her tone as level as always. "Warm up together."

Nyssara crossed the hall without hurry, her steps measured. She stopped close enough for her voice to carry without rising. "Illusions?"

Ethan nodded. "Trying to keep moving targets guessing. You?"

"Speed and strike accuracy," she said. "Looks like I’ll be adding reaction drills."

It wasn’t a challenge, just a matter-of-fact statement, but it raised enough awareness to set a quiet thread between them.

Ardis said nothing, only moved to one side and, with a flick of her hand, sent the discs drifting into new positions. "Begin."

They fell into motion without more talk. Ethan worked his illusions into Nyssara’s periphery, close enough to force her to recognize and discard them mid-strike.

She didn’t falter, though her eyes narrowed slightly, marking the tactic. In return, he caught flashes of her footwork—tight pivots, steady balance, and arcs of her spear that stayed controlled even when she was turning to strike at something behind her.

Small moments built between the movements. A glance traded after perfect timing—the lift of an eyebrow when the other adapted faster than expected.

It wasn’t open competition, but the awareness of pace was there, like two lines running parallel.

When Ardis finally called a pause, both had a thin sheen of sweat along their skin. Ethan rolled his shoulders once, letting the breath even out.

Nyssara rested the base of her spear lightly against the mat, her gaze distant for a heartbeat as if replaying the last set.

"Again," Ardis said. "This time in pairs. No talking. Only timing."

The first two projections appeared—one low, one high. Ethan’s illusion drew the high one wide, leaving Nyssara space to cut the low one down without breaking stride.