HIDDEN ENTITY AND TRAINING

The soft morning glow filtered through the high-arched window of Arslan's room. Gentle rays of sunlight touched the silver embroidery on his dark sheets, casting faint light across the stone walls. A subtle breeze crept in through the open slit of the window, carrying with it the scents of dew, stone, and distant baked bread.

Arslan stirred.

His eyes opened slowly, blinking into the dim light. The soreness from the previous day had eased — his body finally felt whole again. As he sat up, stretching his arms with a quiet exhale, the silence of the morning was broken.

Kar'Thæl's voice entered his mind like a whisper riding on breathless wind.

> "You slept well. That's good… You'll need clarity for what I must tell you."

Arslan blinked and sat upright, pulling the dark cloth of his robe over his shoulder.

> "Tell me what?"

> "There is something inside you — deeper than me. A hidden entity, older than even I can explain. It was placed within you… not by me, by your father. It has always been part of your blood."

Arslan's brows furrowed. "Then what is it?"

> "I don't know. Not yet. I feel it — dormant, watching. It pulses once in a while… but we don't know how to awaken it."

He rose and crossed to the corner basin, washing his face in cold water. The shock of the chill helped clear the weight of Kar'Thæl's words.

"Is it dangerous?"

> "Everything powerful is. But it may also be the key to saving more than just yourself. One day, it will awaken… but whether it chooses to help you or consume you — that, I cannot say."

Arslan looked at his reflection in the polished steel plate on the wall.

Dark eyes. Serious expression. A world of war resting behind them.

"I'll be ready," he said quietly.

> "Good."

The hall buzzed with early morning life. The clinking of utensils, muffled chatter, and warm scents of seasoned eggs, roasted roots, and baked bread filled the room. Crystal goblets clinked as breakfast was passed between long tables.

Arslan sat quietly among the Mythic members, his plate modest, but his appetite sharp. Across from him, Tarric downed his third glass of citrus elixir while Vaelith carefully sliced his meal in perfect symmetry.

Nirela noticed Arslan's gaze was distant again.

"You alright?" she asked.

He gave a small nod. "I am now."

The sun had risen fully now. Its golden light poured over the open training arena of the Mythic Base — an enormous courtyard surrounded by fortified walls and enchanted trees. The sky shimmered faintly from the magical barrier that covered the perimeter.

Today, the energy in the air was different.

Arslan stood near the edge of the track field, tying the leather of his gloves tight. Around him, Mythics had already begun stretching, sparring, and practicing formations. Tarric sent sparks of lightning up his arms while Seris Vahla adjusted the toxin flow of her twin daggers.

Kar'Thæl watched from within.

> "You're pushing harder today."

"I'm healed. It's time I returned to their pace."

The training began.

Arslan dove into physical drills, matching his pace with Tharion, Ravik, and Zhalya. Sweat began to roll quickly down his back as they crossed circuits of sprints, shoulder rolls, and resistance band runs.

The sound of boots against stone, heavy breathing, shouted commands from instructors — it all filled the field like a rhythmic war chant.

"Faster!" barked Malrik Envor, the Rune expert, who took over leading the morning session.

Arslan gritted his teeth, pushing through sets of pushups, leg lifts, and heavy bag strikes. His muscles burned, but it was the kind of burn that made him feel real again.

Across the arena, Kyren launched waves of heat through the obstacle maze, and Ismere Daeva carved intricate blood glyphs into wooden dummies with precise motions. Everyone was sharpening themselves.

And Arslan was no longer standing back.

> "You've returned," Kar'Thæl whispered proudly. "Your body remembers the war it was born to fight."

Arslan lifted a weighted sphere above his shoulders and held it there, unmoving for nearly a minute before lowering it slowly.

"I have to be stronger," he muttered to himself.

After an hour, Malrik allowed rest. Arslan sat against a smooth stone wall, breathing hard, arms over his knees. Yuna passed by and offered him a bottle of infused water. He nodded his thanks.

Zhalya passed as well. "Didn't expect you to keep pace today."

Arslan gave her a faint smile. "Neither did I."

Kar'Thæl's voice returned — a gentle murmur now.

> "Rest. But don't forget what lies ahead. That hidden entity inside you… it waits. We don't know what will trigger it, but when it comes, you must be more than ready. You must be everything your father hoped... and more."

Arslan looked up toward the distant sky — blue, infinite, but layered with danger.

"I will be."