After the previous day's training, morning arrived far too quickly.
Ryan stood in the same clearing, staff planted beside him.
"We have another session today."
Eileen stared at him in disbelief.
"Another one? After everything we did yesterday?"
"Yes. But this one is different," he replied calmly.
"This time, you'll learn how healing can attack while it protects."
She frowned. "How can healing attack? Healing is life."
Ryan drove his staff into the earth.
"It is life," he said.
"But life pushes death back.
And anything that dares to touch it… can be shattered."
A thin arc of violet light traced the air.
"Focus. You'll form a defensive pulse. Not a wall.
a short wave that cuts the enemy's strike and resets it to nothing."
Eileen closed her eyes, hands pressed together. A faint green glow flickered between her palms.
"Faster," Ryan snapped.
"Hesitate for one second, and you lose your head."
"I'm trying…"
"Don't try. Do it."
She steadied her breathing, listening to the forest as he had taught her, the rustle of leaves, the pulse beneath the soil.
The green light solidified and shot forward.
It collided with Ryan's violet arc…
sparks scattered between them, then vanished.
Ryan nodded once. Neither praise nor disappointment.
"Good. Still fragile. Again."
She smirked faintly.
"You really don't know what rest means, do you?"
"Rest teaches weakness. Continue."
Time passed.
When training resumed, Ryan faced her again.
"Today, you cast while moving."
"What?" she protested. "During healing? That's impossible!"
"Life doesn't stop to heal," he said.
"Defend and strike at the same time."
His staff flicked. A violet pulse shot toward her.
She blocked it just in time.
"Again!" she snapped. "I could've done it if you hadn't changed the speed!"
"In real fights, no one waits. Focus."
She circled him, breath heavy. The shield flared, faded, reformed.
"Who taught you this?" she asked between breaths.
"You know more than the academy masters."
"Knowing isn't understanding," Ryan replied.
"Some things aren't taught. They're taken."
She hesitated.
"Ray… you train near energy circles you notice before I do.
It's like you already know a way out of this forest."
"The forest is an old heart," he said quietly.
"Every heart has openings."
"Paths?"
"Doors. Eight of them."
Her breath caught. "Eight realms… have you seen them?"
"No one sees the doors twice."
She studied him. "Then how do you know?"
"I've read," he answered.
"Some stories don't stay in books. They stay in blood."
He cut the moment short.
"Enough talk. Third drill. Speed first. Then endurance."
He struck.
A sharp pulse cut the air. Eileen raised her shield, too slow. A crack grazed her shoulder.
"Don't look at the pain," Ryan said coldly.
"Look at the mistake. Delay.
The cure is a pulse before the shield."
She tried again.
This time, the pulse came first. His strike rebounded like water.
"Closer," he said.
Then he drew a circle in the dirt.
"Hold your shield until the last line fades.
If it breaks… you're out."
Strike after strike battered the barrier.
"Hold it."
Cracks formed.
"Feed it. Don't fight it."
She forced the energy forward. The cracks sealed.
When the final line vanished, she dropped her arms, panting.
"Did… that count?"
"Usable."
She smiled faintly.
"That's your version of praise, isn't it?"
He didn't answer.
For a heartbeat, his gaze drifted…
voices, light, a scream…
Then gone.
"We move," he said flatly. "Roots are too close here."
They trained by a shallow stream, balancing, striking, recovering.
Strike. Shield. Pulse. Move.
Their rhythm aligned.
At last, they rested by the river.
"You said the forest is a heart," Eileen said softly.
"Are the doors part of it?"
"Yes. Every kingdom has one. Some are dead. Some still breathe."
"Can they take me home?" she asked quietly.
Ryan looked at her, steady, unreadable.
"Doors don't take people anywhere.
They open. You walk."
She lowered her gaze, but the spark remained.
The forest fell silent.
Ryan was on his feet instantly.
"Up. Now."
From the trees emerged a massive shape…
smoke given form, eyes burning like coals.
"Not alive. Not dead," Ryan muttered.
"A crafted watcher."
The creature lunged.
Ryan slashed through it. The smoke reformed.
"As expected."
"Eileen! Half-dome…now!"
Her shield caught the strike, shattering smoke into sparks.
"Pulse of life. Chest."
She struck. The creature shattered—then reformed again.
"Observation," Ryan hissed. "Not meant to die."
"Switch," he ordered.
"I bind. You strike where I point."
She followed his finger.
The ember flared…then scattered.
Ryan cut. Violet energy tore through smoke.
The creature froze… then dissolved into ash, sinking into the river.
Silence returned.
"What was that?" she whispered.
"An eye," Ryan replied.
"It watches reactions. Weakness. Trust."
Far away, a shadow stood among the roots.
"They adapt faster than expected," it murmured.
"Next time… I'll see what breaks first."
The mist folded inward. Gone.
Ryan tightened his grip on the staff.
"Tomorrow," he said, without turning,
"no shield without a pulse.
No pulse without movement."
Eileen nodded, hiding her exhaustion.
Inside her, one thought remained steady:
If the doors exist… I'll walk.
The forest stirred again, its ancient heart beating…
counting.