The moment Lysan Eravon clapped his hands, the ether inside the room stirred like invisible threads tightening around every student.
"Today," Lysan said, "you will attempt something simple… yet fundamentally impossible for most mortals."
The class leaned forward.
"You will touch Ether. Not shape it. Not wield it. Simply feel it."
Dozens of students glanced around at one another.
Lysan pointed to the floor where faint geometric lines began glowing beneath their feet.
"Pair up. Sit. Focus. The formation will stabilize the ambient energy. Your job is to sense what lies beneath the elements you already know. Ether is the root of everything. If lightning is a shout, and wind is a whisper… Ether is the silence they come from."
Eryndor's partner—Alden Crest, a Gravity candidate—sat next to him with a focused expression.
"You ever felt Ether before?" Alden asked.
"No," Eryndor answered honestly. "But I'm about to try."
They settled cross-legged on the ground.
The room dimmed.
The hum of Ether softened, like the distant ringing of glass.
And Eryndor closed his eyes.
The world fell away, and he slipped into the Astral Sky—his inner plane.
Wisps of lightning drifted through the clouds above him. Wind currents curled around him gently. His Storm affinity pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat.
But Ether… Ether wasn't there.
Not as a feeling.
Not as a sensation.
Not as anything.
Eryndor frowned.
How do you control something you can't feel? Something that isn't part of your own nature?
Lightning he understood. Wind he understood.
Storm he embodied.
But Ether was silent. No pulse. No form. No color.
Just stillness.
Eryndor inhaled.
If Ether is the source of everything… maybe that means it doesn't speak. Maybe it waits.
He stopped searching.
Stopped reaching.
Stopped trying.
And instead… listened.
A faint buzz tickled the edges of his awareness.
A ripple of formless pressure. Like the moment before lightning strikes—but without the lightning.
Not elemental.
Not aligned.
Not bound.
So that's Ether… Everything before it becomes anything.
He opened his hand.
Slowly, gently, he pulled on that quiet energy.
And something gathered—weightless and pale, not glowing, just present.
An orb the size of his palm flickered softly in the Astral Sky.
Perfectly stable.
Perfectly neutral.
Perfectly Ether.
Eryndor whispered, "There you are."
His eyes opened.
He exhaled—and the orb appeared in his physical hand too, faint and trembling but real.
Alden gaped. "Bro… you were gone for, like, twenty minutes. I thought you fell asleep."
Eryndor glanced around.
Some students had tiny sparks no bigger than a fingertip.
Some had large spheres swirling with unstable pulses.
His own rested perfectly in place—neither large nor small. Just steady.
Balanced.
Before he could think further, footsteps approached.
Lysan stopped in front of him with the same calm expression he always wore—except for the slight narrowing of his eyes.
"Eryndor," he said, hands behind his back. "Are you following the lesson?"
"Yes," Eryndor replied.
Lysan raised a brow. "Then explain what you realized."
Eryndor looked down at the Ether orb in his hand.
"Ether… doesn't want to be grabbed. Doesn't want to be forced. It's not an element you command—it's the foundation elements rest on. So you can't control it like wind or lightning. You have to understand it first. And then it responds."
He lifted the orb.
Stable. Quiet. Balanced.
Lysan stared at it for a long moment.
Then—
He laughed.
A full, genuine, amused laugh that startled half the class.
"Oh, this is delightful," Lysan said, wiping his eye. "Most students take weeks to stop trying to choke Ether into submission. You figured out in one lesson what others take months to understand."
Eryndor shrugged. "Storms teach you to listen too."
Lysan exhaled, still smiling, and leaned closer.
"Good. Hold onto that. The basics of Ether control aren't about strength—they're about accuracy. And if you continue like this…"
His eyes gleamed.
"…you might become something much more interesting than a mere God Candidate."
The class murmured.
Eryndor said nothing, just tightened his grip on the orb.
Lysan stepped back and gestured to the rest of the room.
"Continue your training, everyone. Except you, Eryndor… you're done for the day. Any more, and you'll skip half the curriculum."
Eryndor smirked lightly.
Alden muttered, "Show-off."
Eryndor elbowed him. "Shut up."
Lysan's amused voice echoed:
"Promise me you won't accidentally ascend before lunch."