CHAPTER 42: CHAPTER 42: THREADS OF GROWTH

Arden stood with Nyra just outside the shallow basin where she’d set up her training spot. The spellcloth shimmered faintly in his hand, light threads catching the ruin’s glow.

"We’ll find an artificer later," he said, turning it over once more before tying it around her forearm in a simple bow knot. "Something neat, stitched into a glove or sleeve maybe. Will help with channeling... and won’t look like you tied a ribbon for a parade."

Nyra gave a small laugh. "I’ll take the ribbon for now. Beats plain robes."

Arden nodded, brushing the knot once to make sure it held. "If it starts acting up, or pulls too much aether, let me know. I’ll be deeper in the ruin."

She looked up briefly. "Got it."

Then he left, heading further inside without another word.

Nyra turned her focus to the spellcloth. It was still foreign on her arm, light but firm, and when she pulsed a bit of aether into it, she immediately felt its design respond. It didn’t just take energy, it guided it. Excess aether was drawn in gently and shaped as if by instinct, smoothing her transitions between elements.

Arden hadn’t exaggerated. The cloth didn’t just enhance her abilities, it gave structure to what she already had. Faster casting, smoother dual control, and less energy waste. It felt like the cloth had been made for someone exactly like her.

She got to work.

Her training followed a tight rhythm now, more refined than before. She started with Pulse-Weaving Drills, flipping between wind and ice pulses while using the cloth to manage the flow. Her aim wasn’t raw power, but balance, ensuring both affinities didn’t trip over each other.

It took focus, especially at high speeds, but she was getting better at it.

Next, she moved to spell memory runs. With the cloth’s ability to store formations, she practiced repeating complex dual spells until they came second nature. Even slight failures were logged by the cloth’s residual energy pattern, giving her feedback to adjust.

With her base stronger, she began building new skills into her kit.

The Glacial Cyclone Veil came first, she liked its versatility. A wide-range spell that sent cold-laced wind in a sweeping arc, not just disorienting opponents, but dragging down their speed and reaction. It gave her space, which mattered in fights that turned messy.

Then came Frostfang Gale Blades, her offensive push. Wind-forged blades, thin and fast, each carrying a thin frost edge. Upon hitting a target, they shattered into numbing spikes. She tested different shapes, speeds, and angles, pushing for sharper control with moving targets.

Her favorite so far though was Cryowind Shift, a skill born from watching Arden move in combat. With a tight spiral of cold mist, she blinked a few meters from her spot, leaving behind a scattering of ice shards. She still couldn’t use it too often without stumbling from the sudden shift, but it was fast becoming her go-to for getting out of traps or pressure.

She was also working on the Boreal Tempest Ward, though it wasn’t stable yet. A swirling wind shield paired with a frozen barrier, it was meant to deflect strikes and projectiles. Sometimes it held, sometimes it cracked under pressure, but progress was progress.

Weeks passed like this. Her movements sharpened, and her instincts matured. She wasn’t just reacting to her elements now, she was directing them, shaping them, and mixing utility with raw intent.

In time, she began linking her spells in battle formations. Cyclone Veil into Frostfang Blades, Shift followed by a counter strike. Every new layer came easier now, every spell cast a little faster, a little cleaner.

She started thinking in combinations, not just attacks.

Arden noticed, even if he didn’t say much. Watching from a distance, arms crossed, eyes tracking each motion.

She wasn’t just growing stronger, she was learning how to fight.

And in his eyes, that mattered more.

But Nyra wasn’t the only one making strides.

Rael hadn’t wasted the past weeks either. Even before his advancement, his control over lightning and Ice had taken shape. Unlike Nyra’s weaving and long-range precision, his style was direct—built for combat, not finesse. And it suited him. A battle mage needed to strike fast, hit harder, and stay standing.

His breakthrough into Vein Surge had marked a real shift. Arden had handed him a single Stoneheart Bloomfruit, saying nothing more than, "It fits you."

The moment he consumed it, Rael could feel the difference. His muscles tightened, not from strain but reinforcement like iron being folded over and over again. His bones felt grounded, rooted, and his movements became lighter, faster. The bloomfruit didn’t just boost strength, it gave him a body that could take what his spells demanded.

He tested this quickly.

Lightning sparked across his legs as he dashed between stone pillars, pushing off and redirecting mid-air with barely a thought. There was no numbness now, no jarring ache in his joints. His reflexes had caught up with his mind. It was exactly how the elder from the Ironblood Clan had described it, though Rael still didn’t trust that old man’s smile.

Next, he layered thin shells of freezing aether over his arms. In the past, this would’ve slowed him down, made his swings sluggish. Now, it was armor light, cold, and sharp enough to scrape stone when he missed a target. When he struck, the extra weight made every punch crash like a hammer, and he could pull the ice off instantly to follow up with lightning again.

He’d started developing a rhythm. A real hybrid style.

Dash, Strike, Freeze, Redirect, and Shock.

It wasn’t just practice anymore, he was shaping something of his own.

And then there was Zephyra. Wild, quick, unrelenting. She didn’t hold back during their spars, and Rael didn’t want her to. Her tail strikes forced him to dodge tighter, her claws taught him to block smarter. When he hesitated, she roared, not in anger, but as if daring him to push harder.

"Come on, you’re too slow," she growled once, after knocking him flat.

Rael spat dust and rolled back up. "Says the one who cheats with four limbs."

"Then grow two more."

He grinned. "Maybe next breakthrough."

They trained like that, hour after hour. Zephyra didn’t pull punches, and Rael didn’t ask her to. Every exchange drove something deeper into him, not just technique, but instinct.

He didn’t care for praise, but when Arden watched him once from across the field and gave a single nod, that was enough.

Rael was growing. Not just in strength, but in clarity. His movements were cleaner, his spells sharper, and for the first time, he felt like he wasn’t just following Arden’s shadow, but walking his own path beside him.

And that was more than enough reason to keep going.

A/N:

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