Eli nodded grimly as he stared at the Gate of the Veilweaver. It pulsed like a living thing, its silvery-blue surface rippling with each heartbeat. In his hands, Starling vibrated with quiet power, dark core shimmering with the last 270 motes of Flux. The swirling light within seemed impatient, as though it already knew what he would choose.
Eli steadied his breath, recalling Chronoa's lessons. Not brute force. Harmony.
Facing the constellation of shimmering glyphs, his gaze locked onto the branch resonating with golden light. It felt alive, echoing the silver-gold warmth of the binding collar and the hourglass sigil at his wrist.
"Flux Attunement," he murmured. "This path is meant for me."
He poured intention into his grip. Guided by the subtle cues of his mark and collar, he channeled exactly one hundred and eighty motes from Starling. They streamed forth as ribbons of violet-gold, weaving through the gate's symbols like sunlight through morning fog.
Flux flooded into the central glyph smoothly, with none of the surging backpressure that once threatened to burn him. Instead, it felt like wind filling a sail. Aura, perched on his shoulder, pulsed approval.
"A wise choice," she whispered. "This is your calling."
As the last mote transferred, the path blazed alive—petals of golden light unfolding to reveal a shimmering gateway yawning before them, like a dawn breaking the night.
Eli swallowed the nervous thrill. Here we begin.
—
They stepped through. Instantly, the world transformed: a vast twilight expanse under a mosaic sky where shimmering stars pulsed and flowed with the rhythm of unseen tides.
They stood atop a transparent platform of crystalline resonance, etched with flowing lines that mirrored the very veins of the Aethel city fallen long ago.
Energy hummed beneath his boots with each heartbeat. Flowing. Living.
A figure appeared in the air before them—a tall, slender silhouette cast from living light, features shifting and indistinct yet unmistakably Aethel.
"Welcome, Lineage Bearer. You have accessed the Flux Attunement Path. Training commences."
The voice was layered, neither male nor female, echoing with patience of vaults long closed yet never truly dead. The projection's luminous gaze fell sharply on Eli.
"Your Binding is... unusual. Modified. Tainted. Yet also... evolving. You bear another's mark—Guardian of Time. A strong foundation."
Beside Eli, Aura's tiny form flared brighter as the projection studied her.
"A Grotto Fae? Unexpected, but permissible. Your kind once co-taught here. This is as it should be."
The projection pulsed with interest. "Traditionally, training simulations are calibrated for individual instruction, yet the symbiotic relationship between Lineage Bearer and Fae companion was once cornerstone practice. A tradition I am pleased to see endure, even in these fractured times."
Eli felt a ridiculous relief mingled with reverence. I belong here, despite everything.
—
Four platforms shaped themselves around them. One shimmered with tangled knots of dark smoke, another with fractal crystals, the third with weaving diagrams of light, the last with intertwined tendrils of violet and silver.
"The Disciplines: Conversion Efficiency. Purification Speed. Crystal Formation. Flux Resonance. All connected—but first, foundations. Approach. Begin."
Eli stepped to the first station. Dark corrupted shards floated within a transparent orb, writhing like captured storms. Focus.
He inhaled. The binding spell pulsed warmly, collared threads extending like countless tiny hands guiding his intent.
Instead of attacking the shadow, he listened—for that subtle texture, the way filth felt greasy or gritty, dense or thin. The Guardian's whisper echoed in his mind: "Allow the spell to filter. Lead it, don't force it."
He nudged energy along the collar's inner veins. Gates within the binding opened like delicate, tuned pipes, each modulating the feel of darkness flowing through.
When Flow met friction, he adjusted... and suddenly, the corruption slipped through the lattice, purifying as it went, swirling into Starling's core silky smooth.
A wave of exhilaration hit him.
"Yes! It works—"
Even before his words fully formed, the projection murmured:
"First Filter achieved. Conversion efficiency: increased 100%. Repeat. Refine."
Again. And again. Each fragment revealed new textures: viscous sludge, sharp static, sticky tar.
Each demanded slightly different paths or adjustments.
Sweat prickled beneath his collar, but deep focus made each success surge gleeful.
"Like tuning strings on a harp," Aura encouraged, tiny voice musical with pride. "Listening for the note that rings true."
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Hours passed within minutes outside. He learned to recognize the feel of "fragile" corruption—easy to clear fast—and the "stubborn" kind needing patient coaxing.
Progress was no longer a distant hope. It was a living pulse beneath his skin.
—
Eli moved to the next station, where crystals fractured and reformed in hypnotic swirls.
At first, as he converted energy, crystals shattered or collapsed misshapen; failures splashed shards of unset Flux everywhere, wasting strength.
"No, no," Aura scolded softly, laying tiny hands on a half-formed crystal, making it hum.
"Listen. It's about resonance, not rigidity. Like singing a lullaby to a frightened child. Gentle, but true."
The projection echoed, "Visualize the matrix before it forms. Direct your intent into its shape. The lattice will follow."
Eli slowed, inhaled deeply. Guided energy danced to his fingertips. He pictured a lattice shaped like a six-pointed snowflake—a perfect, symmetrical cage.
The corruption flowing into Starling twisted into delicate lines that met and wove, freezing in place.
The result: a flawless violet-silver gemstone, pulsing gently in the air.
"Crystalline formation stable. Intent imprinted."
Pride flared in his chest, fierce and bright.
"I did it," he murmured in wonder.
The projection dimmed slightly, then brightened. "Such control normally requires weeks of practice. Your natural affinity exceeds baseline expectations. The Fae's guidance proves invaluable—a harmonization of perspectives that amplifies learning efficiency. An advantage the Aethel recognized centuries ago."
Aura's light pulsed with quiet pride at these words, her tiny form seeming to stand taller on Eli's shoulder.
—
Now, floating crystals appeared in a scattered arc around him. The figure said, "Connect them. Flow power through many, as one."
His first attempts failed—links flickering with sparks and dissonance, snapping under mismatched effort.
He recalled Aura's lesson: "Resonance. Like voices in chorus; they must listen to each other."
Slowly, he visualized a steady heartbeat pulsing outward. His silver-gold threads hummed in rhythm, extending one to two, then all crystals. Flows synchronized in gentle waves, no longer jagged but smooth as silk.
The chain sparked to life—a web of shining energy, vibrant and alive. Power flowed evenly from node to node.
"Linked resonance achieved. Difficulty: surpassed. Well done, Eli."
He felt a fierce grin break across his face. Not chained any longer, but commanding the dance.
"It's a network," Eli realized, watching energy pulse between the crystals. "Like veins in a body, or... or roots of a tree. They support each other."
The projection pulsed with approval. "Precisely. Individual nodes are vulnerable. Connected, they form systems of remarkable resilience. This principle will serve you well against the Pattern Alpha wave."
—
Over those days—compressed inside the portal—Eli's conversion speed tripled.
His crystal constructs grew in complexity—barriers, lances, traps.
His energy networks braided through the Hall's echoes, lighting dormant glyphs anew.
Every heartbeat he learned more deeply that mastery was not fighting the binding spell, but willingly entwining his energy with its ancient wisdom.
The dark stain that once threatened to consume him became a source of strength—tamed but alive, not destroyed but balanced.
Even the projection seemed impressed.
"Most students required years to reach this equilibrium. Yours is an unusual gift... or perhaps a unique destiny."
Eli bowed his head, pulse pounding with new confidence. I will survive the Pattern Alpha wave. I will free my friends. I will master what was meant to control me.
The projection circled him on the final day, its light pulsing with what might have been satisfaction.
"A warning before you depart," it said, voice deepening. "The Pattern Alpha cycle is not natural. Its accelerated timeline suggests purposeful manipulation—someone forces confrontation before you reach readiness."
"The hourglass mark has been pulsing with urgency," Eli replied, gripping Starling tighter. "As though trying to warn me the cycle shouldn't have triggered for years."
"The Guardian of Time's mark reflects her awareness," the projection agreed. "Though you cannot yet hear her guidance directly, her sigil communicates truth. Heed its warnings. Remember—what you learn here is foundation. The true test comes when theory meets reality."
The projection gestured, and a complex diagram appeared—a suggested network of crystal formations designed to create a defensive perimeter against Pattern Alpha manifestations.
"This configuration provides starting framework," it explained. "Adapt to threats encountered. Networks function best when balanced—too much offense or defense creates vulnerability."
Eli studied the diagram intently, committing it to memory. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "This knowledge may make the difference between survival and defeat."
—
After countless repetitions, failures, small victories, and one deep breakthrough, the platform dimmed. The chronometer on his belt showed their outside time was ending.
The projection's form solidified one last time.
"You have begun walking the Flux Attunement path. True mastery lies yet ahead, but foundations are laid well. Remember this—Balance is power. Harmony is dominion. Force is but the tool of those who fear their own depths."
Aura's glow brightened beside him.
"We're ready now," she whispered, pride lacing her every word. "Ready to face what comes."
Eli gripped Starling tighter. He felt the inverted energies swirl within—the gold and violet, light and shadow, weaving not as captor and captive but as partners.
The Veilweaver's lessons were etched into every breath, every channel, every pulse of power in his veins and bone.
When they stepped back toward the portal, stars swirling above and beneath, Eli knew:
They had crossed from fearful child into something far more.
A weaver of chains—and, soon, a breaker of them as well.
—
The return to the Hall of Memories felt like waking from a profound dream. Eli blinked, adjusting to the change in atmosphere as the training realm faded behind them.
The chronometer on his belt showed eighty-five minutes had passed in the outside world.
Starling pulsed in his hand, its core now containing exactly ninety motes of Flux—their careful reserve untouched by the training itself. More importantly, Eli could sense the new pathways of understanding opened within his mind, connections between theory and practice that hadn't existed before.
"Marco will be waiting," he said to Aura, his voice carrying a new confidence. "His device should be nearly ready."
As they made their way back through the Grotto toward the portal, Eli paused by the Healing Pool, its waters glowing with inviting radiance. He stopped only long enough to splash his face, the cool liquid instantly revitalizing him.
"You've changed," Aura observed as they continued walking. "Your energy signature is more harmonious."
Eli nodded, feeling the difference himself. The binding spell pulsed with a steady rhythm, synchronized with his heartbeat in a way it had never been before. The silver-gold threads had grown more prominent, the corrupted black elements more contained.
"I understand it better now," he replied, touching the collar. "Not just what it does, but why it exists." His expression grew determined. "And when Pattern Alpha comes, we'll be ready for it."
They reached the portal, its surface shimmering with fractal patterns. Beyond it lay the dungeon with its constant countdown to confrontation. Eli took a deep breath, centering himself in preparation for the transition.
"Ready?" he asked Aura, who settled onto his shoulder.
"Ready," she confirmed, her light steady and focused.
Together, they stepped through the portal, returning to normal time where Marco awaited them with his newly created device. The persistent ticking immediately surrounded them, a reminder that despite their extended training in the time-dilated realm, the danger continued its relentless approach.