Euryale had imagined training would feel heroic.
He had pictured standing at the riverbank, sleeves rolled up, sweat on his brow, water bending gracefully at his command like the illustrations in old academy manuals. Controlled arcs. Clean techniques. Maybe even Silas staring at him in awe while Lyra cheered dramatically.
What he got instead was humiliation.
"Again," Pa said calmly, arms folded, feet planted firmly on dry ground—important detail, Euryale noted bitterly.
Euryale stood knee-deep in the river, hair already plastered to his forehead, clothes heavy with damp. He inhaled slowly, like Ma had taught him.
"Okay," he muttered. "Small splash. Just a splash."
He raised one hand.
The river trembled.
"—That's too much," Silas said immediately.
"I didn't do anything yet!"
The water surged upward like it had been insulted.
A column erupted, smooth and spiraling, lifting Euryale clean off his feet.
"WHY AM I GOING UP—"
The column tipped.
Euryale landed face-first in the mud with a spectacular splat.
Silas howled with laughter. Lyra clapped. A fish flopped nearby like it had come specifically to witness this moment.
Pa sighed. "All right. Let's review. What did you think?"
"I thought—" Euryale lifted his head, mud dripping from his nose, "—that I would like to stay on the ground."
"Clearly the river disagreed."
Euryale groaned and rolled onto his back. "It doesn't listen."
Ma approached with a cloth, dabbing his face gently. "It listens too well, sweetheart."
They tried again.
And again.
And again.
When Euryale attempted to pull water toward him, it dragged him halfway into the river like an overaffectionate pet.
When he tried to push it away, the water parted obediently—then collapsed back in, knocking him flat.
When he closed his eyes and tried to feel the flow, the current slowed… then reversed.
Pa stared at the river, then at his son. "Did you just make the river swim upstream?"
"I DIDN'T ASK IT TO."
The river bubbled.
Silas squinted. "I think it's offended."
Lyra nodded sagely. "You should apologize."
"I am NOT apologizing to WATER."
The water splashed him in the face.
Silence.
Then Silas fell over laughing. "IT HEARD THAT."
By midday, the village children had gathered at a safe distance to watch what had unofficially become a comedy performance.
Euryale slipped on a rock and accidentally froze the shallows just long enough for Silas to skid across it screaming, arms flailing, before vanishing into a berry bush.
"I REGRET EVERYTHING," Silas yelled.
Euryale buried his face in his hands. "I'm never leaving the house again."
That evening, training ended with Euryale sitting alone on the shore, knees drawn to his chest, staring at the horizon.
"I don't want this," he said quietly to the waves. "I didn't ask for it."
The sea answered gently, tide rolling in just enough to wet his toes.
For a moment, Euryale thought he felt something like recognition.
And that terrified him more than any failure.