A week had passed since the construction was completed. We were now transplanting seedlings to their new locations; Obrem was there, assisting the residents with the patience of one who had seen the land die and now watched it being reborn.
In the streets, some people no longer looked at me with such disdain. Visceral hatred was being replaced by a cautious curiosity. Lygni was by my side, as always. We had established ourselves in that territory. Our house was no longer so disheveled; Liss had proven to be an excellent housekeeper, maintaining order with an iron fist and grace. The walls were still peeling, but the air of abandonment was gone. It finally felt like a home.
"I see you're pleased today," Lygni said. She always walked a step behind, her hand never far from the hilt of her sword.
"Well, who wouldn't be?" I replied, gesturing toward the dirt streets.
Business was still slow—Valenreach's economy was an engine that was only just beginning to sputter to life—but the people... they seemed to have a hopeful look in their eyes. And hope is a valuable currency in forgotten lands.
"Right. Today will be the start of our practice," she said suddenly.
I stopped and looked at her, surprised.
"Really?" I asked, feeling a mix of anxiety and excitement.
"Really," she confirmed, walking past me and pointing toward an open, isolated courtyard at the back of the official residence—our home. Lygni stopped and, with deliberate movements, removed the belt that carried her swords, placing them carefully on a stone bench. Without the blades, she seemed even more dangerous, like a predator ready to pounce.
I followed her with my eyes, attentive to every word.
"Right. The Web is not something dead... it is an organism," she said, pacing the courtyard. She stopped and held out one of her hands in front of her body. "We can mold it to our will."
Suddenly, Lygni's outstretched hand was covered in live fire. The flames danced over her skin but did not burn her; they seemed to obey her.
"There are no limits. Everyone can mold whatever they wish."
In her other hand, the air around her seemed to cool instantly. A sharp crack echoed, and a small spike of ice appeared, floating millimeters above her palm.
"The only limit will be your proficiency; how deep you can dive into it."
I was fascinated. What caught my attention the most weren't the elements themselves, but an almost imperceptible detail: there always seemed to be threads, both in the fire and the ice. They were almost invisible fibers of energy that sustained the structure. To my eye, trained in logistics, it looked like the complex wiring of a power station.
"But to get there," she said, joining her hands. The fire and ice came into contact, causing a small mist that quickly dissipated between us. "You need to practice until exhaustion."
She stepped closer, her presence becoming overwhelming.
"There are two forms of the Web: the Physical, which covers almost all warriors and workers, and the Mental... which is where Obrem stands."
Physical and Mental.
"Physical strengthens muscles, heals wounds, and manifests elements," Lygni explained. "Mental allows you to feel what others do not, to predict movements, and to manage great flows of energy. Obrem isn't just an old soldier; he reads the battlefield through these threads."
It seemed fascinating—actually, even a bit terrifying. A power that had no limits, where the only boundary was yourself. This world is truly complex and fascinating.
"Now, sit down," she said.
I sat on the dirt ground. The heat from the soil seeped through the fabric of my trousers, but I ignored the discomfort, focusing only on Lygni's presence.
"Close your eyes and imagine a fishing net in front of you," she said, walking around me.
"Think of yourself as a fish, but you don't want to escape the net; you want it to catch you."
"You are in a vast ocean," she continued, her voice seeming to come from all sides as the wind blew lightly in the courtyard.
I squeezed my eyelids shut. I tried to push away the sounds of Valenreach, the noise of tools in the distance, and the sound of the water. I imagined the darkness before me as a deep and infinite mass of water. At first, I felt myself sinking, lost in the vastness of what I did not know.
"Do not fight the water, feel the flow," Lygni's voice was now a firm whisper.
I saw myself sinking into the vast ocean.
"Desire for the net to come to you," she said. "It will not kill you, but save you."
I found myself in the darkness of the ocean, feeling a slight current carrying me away. In the darkness, I saw a small glow, then two, then three, then a tangle of light.
It was the net. It was coming toward me.
The silver threads didn't seem threatening now; they glowed like submerged stars. I stopped debating mentally and, as Lygni ordered, I desired the net. The moment the first thread touched my spiritual skin, the dark ocean lit up.
I wasn't just caught; I was connected. I felt a wave of static electricity run through every nerve of my real body, sitting there on the dirt ground. The net wasn't just an object; it was a connection to everything around me. For a second, I wasn't just an exiled prince or an administrator from another life; I was part of Valenreach's pulse.
I snapped my eyes open. The physical world seemed sharper, the colors more vibrant.
"You've been caught," Lygni said, watching the tremor in my hands with a satisfied look.
"I saw it... it was like a living system," I replied, my voice still a bit raspy.
"That was just a glimpse. Now that the net has found you, it will never let you go. The real training begins tomorrow."
I looked at the horizon, where the mountains of Valenreach embraced the valley. The fear I felt at the beginning was fading, replaced by a certainty. I was going to master that net, thread by thread.