Morning light filtered through the crystal dome of the training courtyard. The sound of rushing water echoed softly, like distant rain striking marble. Streams ran through channels carved into the floor, feeding into a wide, circular pool that glimmered faintly with glyphs.
Instructor Inbound stood at its edge. Her pale hair shimmered in the light, and her gaze was cold enough to make even the currents hesitate. Ice traced faint lines under her boots, branching outward like veins through frost.
"Water is more than flow," she said, her voice calm and cutting. "It remembers."
Her hand moved through the air, and the pool rippled. A pillar of water rose, folding in on itself until it became a perfect sphere. Then, without warning, it solidified—ice, flawless and clear.
"Control is memory," Inbound continued. "Every motion you make leaves an echo. Every failure repeats until you learn to erase it."
Jayden watched her closely. He could feel the pressure in the air — the quiet dominance she held over every droplet around them.
Kira stood a few steps to his left, her arms crossed, eyes sharp. "She's not talking about water," she murmured.
Jayden smiled faintly. "I noticed."
Inbound's gaze flicked toward them. "Jayden of Keystone. Step forward."
He obeyed, drawing in a steady breath. The Moonshine Blades materialized in his hands, faint light rippling along their edges. The runes of the courtyard brightened, recognizing the presence of condensed elemental energy.
"Show me your flow," she said. "Attack."
Jayden surged forward. His blades sliced the air, weaving arcs of condensed water. Streams spiraled around him — elegant, but raw. The surface of the pool danced with every motion, scattering droplets like rain.
Inbound moved once. That was all.
A sheet of ice spread across the water and rose to meet his strike. His blade cut through — but the moment it touched, frost leapt up the edge, numbing his wrist.
"Too loud," she said. "You force it. Water doesn't need to obey — it needs to follow."
Jayden inhaled sharply and pulled back. The frost broke. He shifted his stance, grounding himself.
Inbound raised her hand again. Thin shards of ice hovered behind her, orbiting in a slow spiral. Each one precise, deliberate.
"Follow my rhythm."
She struck first. Ice shards flew in arcs — graceful, efficient, each one striking at exact intervals. Jayden countered, deflecting with his blades. The water bent with his movements, weaving into whips and shields, matching her pattern.
Kira watched in silence, her eyes flickering between them.
The air grew heavy with moisture.
Then something changed.
When Inbound moved her arm, Jayden's body responded instinctively. His blades mirrored her speed, his flow shifting without conscious thought. Every motion he saw — the twist of her wrist, the way she bent her knees before forming an arc — he copied. Not intentionally. Perfectly.
The water between them trembled. His blades cut wider, sharper. The temperature dropped, and mist began to gather around him.
Inbound stopped. Her eyes narrowed. "Jayden. What are you doing?"
He didn't answer. His focus had narrowed to a point. The mark on his wrist burned faintly beneath his sleeve — a pulse, steady and deep. The air around him shimmered as if reality itself was vibrating.
He struck again. His blades moved with unnatural precision, each swing mirroring the instructor's technique from moments before — even her transitions between liquid and frozen states. Where she conjured spears of ice, his water condensed into crystalline shards.
Kira took a step forward. "Inbound… his aura—"
"I see it."
Inbound raised her hand, summoning a wall of frozen mist between them. Jayden's strike split it in half. The shards reformed instantly — his will bending them without command.
Then the glow faded.
The mist fell away, the light around his wrist dying down. Jayden exhaled sharply and dropped to one knee, the courtyard spinning. The Moonshine Blades dissolved into mist.
Silence settled.
Inbound walked closer, her boots clicking softly against the marble. She crouched in front of him. "You mirrored me," she said. "Flawlessly. That's not something a normal unlocked can do."
Jayden caught his breath. "I didn't… mean to."
"I know." Her tone was measured, but her gaze held curiosity — and a faint unease. "What did you feel when you moved?"
He thought about it. The rhythm, the connection — like the world had shifted to match his heartbeat. "Like I was following a current I'd always known."
Inbound studied him for a moment longer, then stood. "Then that current is deeper than you understand."
She turned away, the pool rippling beneath her steps. "Class dismissed."
As the others began to leave, Kira lingered beside him. "You looked like her reflection," she said quietly. "Even the air felt the same."
Jayden looked at his hand. The faint trace of the mark still glowed beneath the skin — silent, but alive.
He didn't know how or why, but he could feel it now.
The Eye of Creation wasn't just watching.
It was learning.