Stages!

✦ Aether's Unfolding Path ✦

(Learning swords under Rune & the secret burden of his magic)

✦ A surprising revelation on the training grounds

Rune could hardly believe her own ears.

She was still sitting there on the wooden platform edge of the training ground, her sword resting across her knees, eyes wide with a stunned kind of amazement. Next to her sat Aether Ryens, sprawled out on the dirt, chest rising and falling after their little duel, with an easy grin that completely failed to match the storm he'd just stirred up in her mind.

"Wait. Repeat that."

Rune's voice was low, nearly incredulous.

Aether tilted his head slightly, confused. "Repeat what?"

"What you just said — that all your sword technique is… yours. Completely. No teacher, no style you copied, no secret manuals. You just… made it up."

Aether scratched the back of his head, cheeks turning faintly pink.

"Oh. Yeah. I mean, that's right. I've always liked tinkering with things, so I just… tried different ways to swing. See what felt fast, what felt steady. Kinda built it piece by piece on my own."

Teacher Rune was quiet for several long seconds. Her bright blue eyes narrowed, scanning him as if trying to see through skin and bone into the whirling machinery of his thoughts. Then, without a word, she leaned back and blew out a long, slow sigh.

What?

He really did teach himself. That's not just improbable, that's… borderline monstrous. Even most prodigies at the capital's elite sword halls only start inventing their own forms after mastering decades of basics. This boy…

She crossed her arms and regarded him differently now. More cautious. More respectful. And also, strangely enough, a little sad.

✦ Teacher Rune's quiet concern

"Aether," she finally said, her voice lower, almost gentle — a dramatic shift from the playful teasing she usually did.

"There's something you probably don't realize. When a swordsman creates their own style, something entirely personal… it means no one else can really help them. They're forging a path that only they can walk. There aren't textbooks for it. No one can show you the next steps, because your steps don't exist yet."

She tapped her own chest lightly.

"It's a lonely road. And a dangerous one. Because if your foundation is weak, if your basics are flawed… your entire style will eventually collapse on you. You'll be stuck at that level forever — or worse, hurt yourself."

Aether's eyes widened a little. He hadn't thought of it that way. He'd always simply been Aether, messing around, figuring out what worked. Not realizing he might also be Aether, building a crooked tower on sand.

✦ A pivotal offer

Rune took a breath, then gave him a small smile. It was a different smile from her usual mischievous one — this was gentle, earnest.

"That's why… while I can't guide your personal technique — no one can — I can teach you the fundamental swordsmanship you skipped over. The pure basics. Footwork. Balance. True timing. Things that don't care what style you use, because they're universal truths of the blade."

She reached out, poking him lightly on the forehead.

"So what do you say? I won't force you. But if you want to move forward — to make your unique technique truly shine someday — you need a stronger foundation."

Aether was silent for a moment, staring up at the sky. Little drifting clouds chased each other lazily above the academy walls. He let out a long breath, then smiled wryly.

"Fine. You're right. Please teach me, Teacher Rune."

Rune's grin came back in full force, playful and fierce.

"Good boy."

She reached out and patted him on the head, ruffling his hair.

Aether's face twitched.

"H-hey! Don't treat me like some lost puppy…"

Rune just laughed, knocking lightly on his forehead again.

"Hehe, it'll be tough, you know. I'm not exactly gentle."

Aether rolled his eyes with a dramatic sigh.

"Well, anything's fine as long as it doesn't involve me sweating buckets."

CRACK.

"OWW!"

Rune had smacked him on the head with the sheath of her practice sword.

"Ara, ara. And how exactly do you think you're going to learn without sweating, you idiot?"

"Haha — I'm joking, I'm joking!"

Aether rubbed his head with a sheepish little smile.

Actually, he thought, hiding a small, almost shy warmth in his chest, I was hoping for this…

✦ Thus began his formal lessons

So began Aether's strange dual life. By day, he trained under Teacher Rune, learning drills he never bothered with before — foot pivots that looked boring but turned out to be everything, delicate changes of angle that transformed clumsy swings into elegant arcs. He learned how to hold a guard properly so it didn't collapse under pressure, how to keep his weight balanced so he could strike in any direction.

Every mistake was met with either a patient correction… or a playful whack on the head.

"Too stiff, Aether! You're not strangling a chicken, loosen your grip — bonk!"

"That's your left foot, genius. Move your right — bonk!"

And every time, Aether laughed. Or grumbled. Or pretended to sulk, only for Rune to ruffle his hair again. Slowly, day by day, something shifted inside him. The pieces of his haphazard style began slotting into a real frame.

✦ Secrets in the quiet nights

But then at night, Aether returned to his dorm — a modest little room on the west wing of the academy, cluttered with half-finished mechanism parts and old books stacked in precarious towers. There, under the quiet flicker of lamplight, he practiced something else entirely.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he would close his eyes, take slow breaths, and begin circulating his mana. Threads of shimmering energy danced under his skin, curling around his veins and bones. To an outside observer, it might look peaceful. In truth, it was a constant tightrope walk.

"I don't really know much about my magic… the Stairway of Heaven."

He grimaced, opening his eyes briefly to stare at his palm. Faint motes of multi-colored light pulsed there — not belonging to any single element.

"All the information on this is taboo. Even the old library here won't lend me books about it. And honestly… I haven't tried to look very hard. Having this magic is already a curse in this world. I don't even know why it's treated like that. All I know is… I can stop time. Walk through it. Borrow all the elements. That's already more than most people ever dream of."

He clenched his fist, the light winking out.

"But I feel like there's still something I haven't discovered. Even if I don't like it… I have to get stronger. For the sake of my future. For the sake of anyone who gets dragged into my mess. Maybe that's why I keep my circle small. Fewer people to protect, fewer people to disappoint. Hah… it's pathetic."

✦ Understanding the ladder of power

His mind drifted to the stages every mage knew:

Black

- Light Black

- Dark Black

- Final core Black

Pink

- Light Pink

- Dark Pink

- Final core Pink

White

- Light White

- Dark White

- Final core White

Grey

- Light Grey

- Dark Grey

- Final core Grey

Indigo

- Light Indigo

- Dark Indigo

- Final core Indigo

Right now, he was at Dark Pink, teetering on the verge of breaking into Final core Pink, which meant soon he'd reach the White stage. For most students his age, that would have been legendary already.

"The first year chosen ones… they're all somewhere in Pink. Claire's likely at White already, probably Dark White. The third year chosen? White across the board. And those terrifying fifth year elites… they're at Grey. Between Dark and Final core Grey. The gap is enormous."

Aether leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling.

"Truth is, I could have broken through ages ago. I could manipulate the flow of time to give myself endless hours of training. Push myself ahead of everyone."

He shook his head slightly.

"But that's reckless. Dangerous. Disturbing the natural flow for too long would unravel things. Cause problems this world isn't built to handle. It's not worth it. And besides…"

He let out a weak laugh.

"I'm not overpowered. I'm just a kid with more problems than he knows how to fix. 'With great power comes great responsibility,' huh? Guess they were right."

✦ And so he presses on

So each day, he sweated under Teacher Rune's watchful eye, learning how to truly handle a sword. Each night, he sat alone, testing the swirling threads of his strange taboo mana, trying to understand what he was becoming.

And every so often, Rune would watch him from afar after practice, arms crossed, a quiet frown on her face.

He's hiding something. I don't know what. But whatever it is… it's heavy. I just hope he doesn't end up crushed by it before he ever has the chance to stand tall.

Aether, meanwhile, just kept moving forward.

"Little by little. One awkward sword swing, one pulse of mana at a time. That's all I can do."