The training yard wasn't on any map.
Tucked behind the old Silver Creek manor—past the overgrown rose garden and a rusted swing set—was a clearing Elena had walled off with ironwood and salt lines. Not for show. The air inside shimmered faintly, like heat haze over asphalt in July.
Kai stood at the center, barefoot, shirt soaked through despite the morning chill.
"Again," Elena said from the edge, arms crossed. Her voice was calm, but her eyes never left him. Never blinked.
He exhaled. Raised his hands.
Around him, six floating stones—each no bigger than a fist—hovered unevenly. Some twitched. Others wobbled like they were fighting invisible strings.
"Focus on the stillness, not the movement," Elena called. "You're chasing time. You need to hold it."
Kai gritted his teeth. Sweat dripped into his eye. He blinked it away.
He'd been at this for three hours. Since dawn. Since Luna stopped breathing in her sleep and didn't wake up for seventeen minutes.
Since the moon blinked.
