The Ultimate Test of Will

The sky above the shrine was dark, the stars now jewels scattered across a black velvet sky. There was no breeze with which to carry their voices unused to the hush of trees. With his back facing Emiko, Kaito stared out towards the horizon.

"You've come a long way," he said quietly, for once his voice grave.

Out of breath from training earlier with them, Emiko wiped the sweat from her forehead. She had been able to generate small outbursts of spiritual force, but they were considerably weaker than Kaito's control. Still, it seemed, for her, like a huge leap forward.

"Thank you," she said, but her voice betrayed a note of uncertainty. "But it just doesn't feel like enough."

Kaito tilted slightly in response, his expression inscrutable. "There's the first lesson, Emiko. You'll never know it's enough. "If you believe you've reached your peak, you'll never grow."

Emiko bit her lip, nodding. "I get it. But what do you do when your power reaches its limits?"

Kaito hesitated for a moment, and then faced her fully. There was something in his eyes, and a gravitas to his words.

"Then you break it," he said, his voice soft but resolute. "You surpass your limits. The real measure of power is not what you can accomplish; it is how far you are willing to go."

Emiko stared at him for a long moment, as if processing his words. She didn't know what that meant, but something about it struck a deep chord inside her.

Then Kaito took out a small black stone from his coat. Its surface was covered with intricate markings and it glimmered with a sinister sheen.

"This," he said, extending the stone toward her, "is your next test.

Emiko arched an eyebrow, advancing cautiously. "What is it?"

"The spirit core," Kaito said. "A challenge of your control and will. Your energies will have to be drawn together into this stone and match your animus. If you do, the core will light up bright. If you fall short… let's just say you'll notice."

Emiko's heart raced, but she didn't flinch. "Alright. I'll do it."

A small smile tugged at Kaito's lips. "I'm glad to hear you say that."

He placed the stone in her hand, its smooth surface chill against her palm. Emiko shut her eyes and concentrated, reaching out into that spiritual energy that felt so untamed earlier. It was harder than before. For the first time, the energy in the atmosphere felt thick, and she felt pressure.

She had known, but without thinking, her hand quavered as she started to pour her energies into the rock. The heat that had started Her heart and the heat now stoked at the base of her skin. But this time, something seemed different. Instead the stone fought ankle her power, forged as a mirror, reflected all of her doubts and fears back at her.

"Focus," Kaito's voice sliced the tension. "Don't fight it. Direct it."

Emiko gritted her teeth and pressed harder, but the resistance only intensified. The stone was heavy and its surface seemed to resist her touch. She could feel the drain of her energy burning faster, her frustration building.

"Why won't it work?" And then she gaffed under her breath.

Kaito observed her quietly. "You're trying too hard. You're forcing it. Strength isn't just willpower, you remember what I told you? It's about balance."

Emiko inhaled deeply, willing her heart to stop pounding. She could sense it—that energy still coursing through her—but now she had to let it come out as natural as possible. She had to trust in herself.

Rather than pushing harder, she turned the lens inwards. She started to visualize the energy like it was a river, moving this way and that, without limitations. Her heart stopped racing, her breath steadied, and in the moment she could feel herself connected to the stone.

It was faint to start, but the warmth spreading from the palm of her hand started to grow, slowly at first, then with increased fervor. The stone hummed softly under her fingers, reacting to her energy. Emiko smiled faintly; her eyes were still shut.

And then—crack!

A bolt of light shot from the stone, and Emiko reeled back, breath catching in her throat. It pulsed with a brilliant glimmering light on its surface, the stone thrumming with power. She had done it.

But the energy was too much.

Her vision swam, her legs buckling under her. She had underestimated how much the surge of power would exhaust her, as she now felt weak and dizzy. Her knees buckled, and she fell on to the cold stone steps of the shrine.

Kaito was at her side in an instant, his hands on her shoulders, steadying her. "Emiko!" he said sharply. "What happened?"

"I… I tried to hold on to it," she said, her voice feeble. "It felt like too much. I couldn't control it."

Kaito grimaced and looked at the oozing stone in her palm. "You pushed yourself too far. That power was more than you could refer right now. But you did well."

Emiko blinked, her sight beginning to clear. "I did?"

"Yes," Kaito said, his tone gentler now. For a second, "you had control over the energy, and you made it happen. But next time, pace yourself. You're not invincible."

She nodded, her head spinning. "I'll remember that."

Kaito helped her to her feet. "Good. Now let's get back to it."

"Back to it?" Emiko asked, her tone one of fatigue and bewilderment.

"Training doesn't stop when you've made progress," he said with a small grin. "You're only going to get stronger the harder you push. But that's the thing—to know when to stop—to know when to pull back, and when to release."

Emiko swallowed, her resolve igniting anew. "I'm ready. I won't stop."

Kaito's grin spread, and for a moment Emiko felt something in his eyes, something approving. "Good. Well, we're just getting started.'"