Missing Comapanions

Jonan went about practicing his new Dexterity-Type Battle Arts in his field, working hard on understanding it's intricacies and also performing them in real life.

"Mirage of the Forgotten Path" consists of three steps; The first step is called "Evasion of the Phantom Step", in which one begins by mastering the art of perfect evasion and fluid movement, becoming like a shadow that constantly shifts and never remains in one place for long.

To begin with the first step, one has to practice the advanced footwork mentioned in the Battle Art. From there, the practitioner must progress by creating confusion for his opponent, moving like a phantom, becoming a presence that can vanish without warning.

The second step would be "Illusive Trail – Path of the Mirage", where a practitioner through focused energy control, creates multiple reflections of themselves that move in patterns similar to their own, making it difficult for the opponent to distinguish between the real and the fake.

These reflections might vanish or change directions as soon as the opponent attempts to strike, forcing them to waste energy attacking empty air.

The third step would be "The Forgotten Path – Return to the Void" , where a practitioner has the ability to hide oneself in the folds of space, moving without being noticed, and create an illusion to misdirect his opponents.

Spatial awareness is a key skill to perceive for this step. The practitioner must sharpen their senses to such an extent that they can perceive every shift in their surroundings every subtle movement, every change in the air or ground. They can slip through gaps in space that others can't even see, moving as though the very fabric of reality has bent to conceal them.

For Jonan, who was currently practicing the Battle Art, the sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the field as Jonan stood in the center of the field, his feet barely touching the ground. Sweat beaded on his brow, but his focus was absolute, his every muscle taut with concentration.

Mastering "Evasion of the Phantom Step" meant becoming a shadow. The body had to move with such fluidity that it seemed to defy the very laws of motion. There could be no hesitation, no flaw in his rhythm.

His footwork had to be light, swift, and unpredictable, like a leaf drifting on the wind. Every step had to be unpredictable, drawing his opponent's focus one way, only to shift in another direction.

Jonan took a deep breath and began with his movement. His feet barely touched the stones beneath him as he rushed forward, each movement precise. His body was a blur of motion, a dance of evasion and misdirection. He practiced tirelessly, turning each move of his as light as air, his limbs weaving a path that no enemy could follow.

His feet seemed to float, gliding across the ground in a pattern that appeared random at first glance. But the true mastery lay in the way his direction constantly changed, and how his movements led the eyes astray, drawing attention to places that didn't matter, only to move again before the enemy could strike.

As he moved, assimilating with the ground beneath him, his fluidity with his steps became more than just simple movements, earth became his partner, his ally. Rocks, grass, and dirt were no longer obstacles but tools to enhance his evasion. Each surface offered its own challenge, and Jonan learned to adapt to them.

His mind worked in unison with his body, the two entwine like a well-rehearsed duet. Every shift of his weight, each turn of his footsteps, was timed with accurate precision. His movements were so fluid that they seemed to merge with the environment.

He became as much a part of the earth beneath him as the air that surrounded him. To his opponents, it would feel as though they were chasing the wind itself.

Jonan stopped to regain his breath, tiredness and fatigue evident on his face, but he knew that unlike other practitioners who have been practicing these skills, he had to train more, to make up for lost time, and to catch up with his peers in terms of skills at least.

While resting, Jonan's mind lingered on his friends. The worry gnawed at him like a constant ache that refused to subside. Any time when he ever closed his eyes, he would see their faces, each one was marked by the same uncertainty of what their condition might be, and if they are even alive. It wasn't just their absence that bothered him, but the feeling of being helpless to do anything. What could one do when they aren't strong enough?

His practice had been intense, but Jonan knew that strength was more than just technique. It was will of the strong, and yet, no matter how hard he trained, it felt like there was something missing.

A void that no amount of footwork or illusion could fill. It was as though every step forward was accompanied by an invisible force pulling him backward, reminding him of his limitations.

With a helpless sigh, Jonan wiped his brow and allowed himself a moment to rest. The fading sunlight painted the sky in hues of orange and violet, a reminder that time passes on regardless of his struggles.

He wondered if his friends, wherever they were now, were looking at the same sky, feeling the same weight of uncertainty pressing down on them. He imagined that if they were, he hoped for their wellbeing.

His mind flickered back to the clan guards. He had repeatedly asked them for updates on his friends, but their responses were always vague, reserved. "We're still looking into it," they'd say, their voices were filled with the practiced indifference of those who had long since resigned themselves to their rightful duty, and nothing could move them. Jonan could sense their frustration towards him, but it did little to ease his own.

He understood that the clan had its own priorities, protecting its people, maintaining order, and preparing for threats that might emerge from the unknown.

But none of that could erase the fact that his friends were still out there, lost, somewhere in the vastness of the world, and Jonan, despite all his training, was still a mere shadow of the warrior he needed to be.

As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the field, Jonan made up his mind. He couldn't wait forever. He couldn't allow his friends to drift further apart from him without at least trying to do something about it.

His body still ached from his earlier practice, but he was extremely determined. He would need more than just his physical skills to succeed, he would have to use every tool at his disposal, and every ounce of strength he could muster.

With a deep breath, Jonan stood up, brushing off the dirt from his clothes. His muscles were sore, but they would heal with time. His body a machine, and his mind was its guide, now, he only had to focus on what lay ahead.

His first task was to speak with the elders of the clan. If anyone had answers, or at least could help him find a way forward, it would be them.

Jonan knew that they would not simply tell him anything, due to his status in the clan, but he had to have a talk with them, for the sake of his missing friends.

After returning back to the castle, he went towards where most of the elders of the family usually gather, the elders hall, a private space for their leisure, where they discuss their important decisions.

The path to the elders' hall was long and winding, but Jonan's steps were steady. He had walked this path many times before, but today felt different. Today, he was not just a young master of the Starfall family seeking knowledge, today, he was someone on a mission. His mind raced with various possibilities, would the elders give him the answers he sought?

As he approached the entrance, two of the clan's guards stood watch, their stern faces betraying no emotion.

Jonan nodded to them as he passed, his eyes focused on the great wooden doors ahead. With a single push, the doors creaked open, revealing the dimly lit hall inside.

In the hall, there were various elders of the hall sitting next to each other, while some were laying on a couch alone, reading scrolls, some where just sipping their wine, and enjoying their snacks.

There were also some, who were sitting together, and gossiping and laughing, but he had no business with these elders, while they also hold important positions in the family, he had to go deeper, where a big round table was present, on which elders with stern expressions were seated, these were the ones Jonan had to talk to.

The elders were seated in a circle, their expressions unreadable as always. The air in the hall was thick with the weight of tradition and the history of generations before them. Jonan bowed respectfully before stepping into the center of the room.