Chapter 11: Names in the Dust

The training had begun in earnest. Aedric had given them a day to adapt or break, and in the stark light of dawn, the weight of his words still hung heavily in the air. Kaien and Lyra, along with the others, stood in the rough-hewn courtyard, facing an array of wooden training dummies and crates. They had been given no instructions beyond feel their Inner Tides, push them to the limits.

At first, the silence between them was oppressive, broken only by the occasional creak of a wooden dummy or the faint rustle of leaves as the wind stirred the trees.

Kaien's heart raced as he stood there, fingers twitching at his sides. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts—thoughts of the negative current always lurking beneath the surface, waiting for him to lose control. He couldn't afford to think about that now. He had to focus on the Tide Shaper ability he had stolen, the one he had yet to truly understand.

With a sharp exhale, Kaien closed his eyes, letting his breathing settle. The air was thick with the morning mist, and in the stillness of the courtyard, he began to feel the pulse of his Tide. He reached for it, pulled at it with his mind, but the sensation was foreign, unpredictable. The ability to shape the Tide, to form it into something solid, something that could hold its shape in the world around him—it felt like trying to hold water in his hands.

Beside him, Lyra was already at work. Kaien opened his eyes briefly and saw her standing in front of a dummy, her hands outstretched as if weaving something invisible in the air. Her Healing Tide was visible now, shimmering faintly around her fingers as though she were drawing delicate threads of light from the air itself.

She wasn't just feeling it; she was creating something with it. And Kaien, for all his training, couldn't even begin to understand how she was doing it.

"Focus," Aedric's voice came, low and steady, from the shadows of the building behind them. He wasn't offering advice or guidance yet—just observation.

And observation was all Kaien received.

He spent the hours of that day trying to find some connection, some spark within himself that could trigger the Tide Shaper ability. He reached for it, pushed at it, trying to form shapes—simple ones, at first. A sword, a shield, anything. His body tensed with frustration each time the Tide slipped from his control, leaving only faint traces of energy in the air. He knew that if he pushed too hard, the negative current would rise up inside him like a dark tide, threatening to swallow everything.

It took the whole morning for him to form something resembling a blade, though it flickered in and out of existence, weak and translucent. Every time he thought it was solid, it would dissolve back into nothingness, leaving Kaien with nothing but exhaustion and a gnawing sense of failure.

But Lyra… Lyra was different. She moved with an almost serene focus, her hands always in motion as she shaped the air, weaving her Healing Tide into something beautiful. She wasn't focused on power, on control like the rest of them. She was focused on understanding, on healing not just the body, but the spirit.

Aedric didn't give them time to stop or rest.

Every so often, he would appear at the edge of the courtyard, observing them with his penetrating gaze, never speaking unless it was to comment on their failures or direct them back into position. He was a harsh teacher—unforgiving, relentless. But Kaien knew that was exactly what they needed. They had all failed the tests at the Arcanis Institute because they weren't good enough. Now, here they were, struggling in the courtyard, under the grueling eye of someone who cared not for their potential but for their resolve.

After what felt like hours—though it was only midday—Kaien finally dropped to his knees, out of breath. He had made no real progress. His blade, if it could even be called that, had crumbled into dust again. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked over to Lyra, who was still working, her Healing Tide flowing gently like a river, steady and unwavering.

The others around him were no better off. Some were still struggling to feel their Tides, others were trying to control them, but there was no sense of mastery yet—only the vague outlines of their abilities, faint and imperfect.

Aedric's voice cut through the quiet. "Enough for today."

Kaien's shoulders slumped with a mixture of relief and frustration. They had barely scraped the surface of their potential, and yet, they were already being dismissed.

Aedric stepped forward, his presence commanding their attention. "Tomorrow will be no different. Adapt or break. You will continue until you get it right." His voice was unyielding.

But then, something unexpected happened. Aedric paused, looking over the students, his gaze softer than before. "Before we end, I realize I have neglected to do something important."

Kaien looked up, intrigued.

"I never asked your names," Aedric said, his tone unexpectedly gentle for a moment. "The first step to teaching you is knowing who you are. Not just your skills, but your hearts."

There was a brief silence as the others exchanged glances, surprised by the teacher's words. Finally, the tall man who had spoken earlier— the one with the bruised arm—stepped forward. His voice was gravelly but warm as he spoke.

"Ronan," he said simply, his shoulders broad but his posture unassuming. "Ronan Dovari."

"I'm Tessa," the young woman with dark braids said next, stepping forward with a quiet confidence. Her eyes were sharp, but there was a vulnerability in her voice. "Tessa Kaldwyn."

The others spoke their names one by one, a mixture of shy murmurs and louder declarations. Each one had their own story, their own reasons for being here. There was Thorn, a wiry man with silver tattoos who had failed the Tide Vortex test, and Calen, a lanky boy with a nervous demeanor who couldn't control his Tide Traveler abilities. Kaien remembered that he had barely spoken at all during the trial. The names formed a small but diverse group, each one marked by failure and the desire to learn.

When it came time for Kaien, he hesitated, but only for a moment.

"Kaien," he said simply, standing tall as he faced the group. "Kaien Nightfall." His name lingered in the air like a whisper, and he couldn't help but feel the weight of it. It wasn't just his name—it was a burden. The name of a man who had stolen his ability, a man hiding a darkness within.

And then, Lyra's turn came. She stepped forward with a quiet grace, her expression soft yet unwavering.

"Lyra," she said, her voice full of warmth. "Lyra Dawnspring."

For a brief moment, Kaien thought he saw something flicker in Aedric's eyes—something akin to understanding.

"A good name," he murmured.

There was no grand gesture after the introductions. No dramatic speeches. They were simply names, and with them, they were acknowledged. And for Kaien, that acknowledgment meant something more than he expected. It meant he wasn't just a failure. He wasn't just Kaien, the boy who stole a Tide. He was Kaien Nightfall, and for some reason, that mattered here.

As the last of the introductions faded into the air, Aedric stepped back. "Now that we know who you are, tomorrow, we begin again. Remember, your Tides are not just tools. They are reflections of who you are." He paused, letting his words settle over them. "If you cannot shape your Tide, then you cannot shape yourself."

Kaien's chest tightened as he took in the words. He couldn't help but feel they were more than just a lesson—they were a warning. A warning that, for all their struggle, their failures, they had only just begun to understand the true cost of this journey.

The rest of the day passed quietly, the silence of the courtyard only broken by the sounds of their movements as they returned to their rooms, exhausted and lost in thought.

But one thing was clear.

They were no longer just students of the Arcanis Institute—they were Aedric's students, and they would have to fight, train, and adapt if they ever hoped to stand again.