The echo of metal striking stone faded, and silence filled the wide training yard for a full second.
He lifted his head toward me, looking directly into my eyes…
He stepped forward—just half a step—and his voice came out calm:
"Do you want to face me?"
For a brief moment, our eyes met.
After a second of silence, I answered simply: "No."
I immediately looked away, as if the idea wasn't even worth considering.
But inside, one quick thought flashed through my mind:
Does he think I'm insane to fight him? I'm not ready to get involved with him… not now, not ever.
When Zio heard my answer, he didn't move right away. He remained still for a short moment, as if analyzing my simple words.
No anger, no disappointment, not even a hint of mockery appeared on his face… only a calm gaze holding something mysterious I couldn't fully read.
He lowered his sword slightly, like he was arranging his thoughts.
He breathed slowly, then said in a low, : "okay."
He gripped his sword again, turned steadily, and walked back to his original spot in the training yard.
He didn't glance at me, nor try to continue the conversation.
He resumed his movements, the blade slicing the air quietly, as if nothing had happened seconds ago.
....
After my intense training session ended, exhaustion weighed on my body, but a strange sense of satisfaction filled my chest.
I stood before the training dummy, wiped the sweat from my face, and took a deep breath before leaving the yard.
I walked to my room at a steady pace, each step a little heavy from fatigue, but my mind remained clear, focused on what I'd do next.
I took a quick shower—the cold water shocking my body and giving me a burst of temporary refreshment—then got dressed and left.
The classroom was only a few steps away. I approached quietly, keeping the calm silence I liked to maintain after a long day of training.
When I entered, students began to straighten themselves up, some flipping through their books lightly. I sat in my usual seat, away from everyone's eyes, ready for the rest of the day.
After I settled and caught my breath, Rina entered the classroom, walking confidently to the front. She spoke in a clear voice that drew everyone's attention:
"Today… we're focusing on a very important lesson for anyone who wants to understand Anya: I'm going to teach you how to control Anya and use it with precision."
Whispers rose among the rows; some students looked excited, others nervous.
This wasn't just a theoretical lesson—controlling Anya meant learning discipline, inner focus, and mastering your energy step by step.
Rina pointed toward the door and said: "Follow me. We'll train in the yard."
We all stepped outside into the spacious courtyard, fresh air flowing between the massive pillars. Rina stood in the center and said:
"Before you begin, remember something important: Anya isn't just light or a beam—it's an extension of your will and inner focus. You cannot control it without understanding its nature from within."
She placed a training dummy made of Flogram in front of each student, designed to react to Anya.
"Your goal today is simple: Summon Anya… learn to control it, keep it focused in one place, and direct it steadily."
The students began training immediately. The yard filled with the sound of flowing energy and the soft glow of Anya moving through the air like glowing particles dancing between their hands.
Some spells stayed fixed on the dummies for a while, while others faded at the slightest loss of concentration.
Alyssa was the first to show clear skill. Anya remained stable and steady between her hands, as if it were an extension of her will.
Each movement was precise, each spark deliberate, reflecting her sharp mind and strong focus.
She managed to keep Anya centered on the dummy for the longest time, as if she were silently speaking to it—commanding it to obey without hesitation.
Zion moved with confidence, and the strength of Anya in his hands was unmistakable.
His control wasn't limited to stability—he guided it with remarkable speed and accuracy, as if it were liquid flowing directly from his palms to the target.
Still, he occasionally strained himself and had to reset his control multiple times.
Lubna, however, was different. Despite her high level, she didn't try to impress anyone or show off.
Anya flowed smoothly between her hands, every spark under control, every movement measured carefully.
She moved lightly, as if dancing with the energy.
The other students' performances varied between success and failure.
Some managed to keep Anya stable for short moments, while others lost control quickly.
The yard brimmed with determination—each student striving to master the living energy that seemed to challenge beginners.
I sat in front of my Flogram dummy, Anya glowing gently before me.
I slowly raised my hand, trying to feel the current flowing within me—the focus binding me to the energy.
Each attempt felt like trying to grab air; Anya moved for a moment, then vanished.
I took a deep breath, trying to reset myself, calm my mind, and block out all distractions.
I raised my hand again, and Anya trembled slightly, its glow clearer than before, as if it sensed I was trying—even though it remained unstable.
I repeated the attempts over and over.
I felt slight progress each time—my hand's control growing, Anya's glow beginning to follow my will, even if only for a few seconds.
Each failure taught me something new, and each small success ignited hope inside me.
As Rina walked among the students, watching their training closely, she commented in a calm yet clear voice:
"These students are truly talented… especially those focusing on stabilizing Anya, not just moving it quickly."
Then she looked toward Zion, Alyssa, Lina, Darin, Silver, and Gina—each displaying their own unique talent.
Some excelled in maintaining Anya's stability, others in directing it with speed and precision.
But after a moment, she suddenly stopped watching them and shifted her gaze to another corner of the yard, where a lone young man stood—sweating, every movement of his looking more like a struggle with himself than an attempt to control Anya.
Rina raised an eyebrow, surprise showing clearly on her face: "How can someone from the Taylor family… be like this?"
Her expression stayed a mix of shock and curiosity, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.