Dawn rose slowly over Kyomisu, painting the rubble from the previous day's battle in gentle light. Steam lifted from the stones as the mist began to thin, revealing faint trails of energy still lingering in the air. The village, for the first time in days, had grown quiet.
At the training courtyard, three symbols glowed at equal distance from one another on the ground—three spirals of differing hue, carved by Kelivin himself before sunrise. He stood in their center, arms crossed as the brothers approached, still heavy‑eyed from lack of sleep.
"The Heart marked you yesterday," he said, as they took their positions. "It gifted each of you power—but also instability. Today, you learn how to live with both."
Kevin examined his spiral, formed of faint black and silver dust that shimmered like night water. Kris's circle pulsed amber like molten stone, and Dylan's sparked intermittently with blue‑white bolts.
Kelivin pointed toward them. "Those marks are breathing with your Ryuma. Before you can control them, you have to hear them."
The First Lesson: Resonance
He crouched, pressing his palm against Kevin's circle. Faint waves reverberated outward. "Every imprint has its own rhythm—how the Heart speaks to your soul," he explained. "When three imprints move in harmony, the Seal remains stable. When one falters, imbalance spreads to the others. Close your eyes. Listen."
The brothers obeyed.
A hush fell over the courtyard. The world softened until only energy remained—the pulse of three distinct beats.
Kevin felt his as low and steady, like a whisper threading through silence. Kris's beat rumbled deep, alive and heavy as shifting earth. Dylan's pulsed sharp and fast, sparks flickering in his veins.
Kelivin's voice drifted between them. "Now align your breathing. Find the moment between—and meet one another there."
Kevin inhaled. Kris matched him. Dylan tried, his rhythm erratic at first, then steadying. Slowly, the space between their pulses narrowed until a single vibration filled the courtyard.
The marks on the ground glowed brighter, lines of light connecting their circles like veins uniting into one heart.
"Good," Kelivin said, stepping back. "Hold that rhythm. The Heart speaks through it."
The glow deepened. The air thickened around them, full of heat and sound.
Then, all at once, the connection flashed white—and each brother stumbled back, gasping.
The Overload
Kris hit the ground first, his skin cracking faintly with glowing lines that quickly faded. Dylan's hands sparked uncontrollably. Kevin's shadow flared outward, splitting into multiple moving shapes before returning to him.
Kelivin raised his hand, calling the energy down. "Enough!"
The glow faded in an instant. The brothers steadied themselves, pale but unbroken.
Kevin groaned. "That… didn't feel like balance."
"It wasn't supposed to," said Kelivin. "Unity is not comfort. It's consequence."
Kris slammed his fist into the dirt, frustration flashing across his face. "We could've handled more—"
"Then you'd burn faster," his father cut in. "Power isn't the test, Kris. Control is."
He paused, letting the moment sink in. "You're wielding the Bridge's pulse. It amplifies instinct as much as strength. The next time you lose balance, the Heart will answer—and next time, it won't stop at a warning."
Dylan looked up, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Then teach us how to stop falling apart."
Kelivin allowed a small, fleeting smile. "That's why you're here."
The Second Lesson: Element Weaving
He motioned them closer to the center. "Every element carries two faces: strength and memory."
He summoned a length of faint light, weaving it through his fingers until it split into five threads—black, silver, crimson, gold, and blue. "To harness the imprint, you'll need both faces in balance. For example…"
He flicked his wrist. The threads twined together, forming an orb that shimmered between solid and liquid, light and dark. "Shadow's memory connects things unseen. Stone's strength anchors them. Lightning bridges them. Combine those, and you have movement through all worlds—but only if the mind allows it."
The orb faded.
"Your task," he continued, "is to weave your energy without losing self. A single mistake, and your elements will consume one another. Begin."
Kevin extended his palm. His shadow rose, thin and fluid. Kris summoned streams of molten dust, making the ground glimmer. Dylan let arcs of light connect both.
For a few breaths, it held. Then Kevin's shadow twisted sharply, colliding with Kris's aura. Stone exploded upward, scattering the balance entirely. Dylan barely leapt aside before the lightning detonated in a rolling boom.
All three hit the dirt again in a tangle of limbs and smoke.
Kelivin sighed softly. "Again."
They groaned in unison.
Progress in Fragments
Hours passed. Attempts failed one after another—but each time, the glow around them stabilized a heartbeat longer than before.
At last, when the sun began to dip, something changed. Unspoken understanding grew; their movements synchronized without thinking.
Kevin's shadow welled upward not as attack but as structure, shaping arcs that supported Kris's forming columns of radiant stone. Dylan's lightning danced between them, completing circuits that hummed in tune with the earth's pulse.
The courtyard vibrated faintly. The brothers breathed in rhythm again, their energies fusing briefly into one shimmering current before collapsing harmlessly into sparks.
Kelivin nodded once. "Now you're listening."
After the Lesson
As dusk fell, the brothers sat in exhausted silence, surrounded by faint traces of their progress—a black streak across the ground, a handful of smoldering stones, and lingering hints of ozone.
Kevin finally broke the quiet. "You said this power would attract bigger threats. What happens when they find us?"
Kelivin looked toward the horizon where dark clouds loomed again. "Then we show them what balance looks like, even when it hurts."
Those words settled like prophecy.
For the first time, Kevin realized the truth behind his father's endless calm—it wasn't strength alone, but grief turned into discipline.
The sky above flickered with heat lightning. Far beyond the clouds, something else stirred—watching, remembering, waiting for the heirs who had dared to touch the Heart's beat.