The marsh was quiet, except for the drip of water from leaves and the soft rustle of frogs somewhere deep in the grass.
The sun was low now, stretching long shadows across the wet ground, and I stood in the clearing, boots sinking slightly into the mud.
I wiped the sweat from my brow and let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. My shirt stuck to my back, soaked through from the afternoon's practice, but it didn't bother me anymore. I was used to it.
It was really strange, just three weeks ago, I could barely control my Point. I stumbled in mud, rammed into trees, struggled to even teleport.
But now? I'm not perfect, not by a long shot, but I can move. The shimmer doesn't fight me like before. I don't have to clutch at it like a prayer or hold my breath and hope. It's there, waiting. I just have to reach out and grab it.
I remember those early drills, the ones where I had to jump from rock to rock, each one slick with moss or wet from the marsh. I fell more times than I can count. My muscles screamed, my breath came sharp and short. I'd land with a thud or a slip, mud splattered across my sleeves.
Then there was the ball drill. Plor showed up one afternoon, grinning like a fox, and pulled out that battered old leather ball. She charged it with her Point, squeezing it with invisible forces, and threw it away with a challenge in her eyes.
At first, I missed almost every catch. The ball curved and dipped unpredictably, and I was too slow or too early, hands brushing the edge but never closing around it. But day after day, the shimmer became faster in my hands, my reflexes sharper, my instincts quicker.
There were drills where I teleported midair, catching myself from falling, some where I teleported long distances, even flicking underwater where the shimmer felt thick and heavy. Each one burned inside me that sharp, constant ache like I was pulling something taut with every move.
I've learned to trust the shimmer a little more now. It's not just a wild spark anymore, it's a muscle, breath, a part of me. But it still hurts, that pulse inside my chest whenever I flick. I don't think it ever stops hurting.
I glanced up to see Plor standing by a tree at the edge of the clearing. She was holding her chakram, a weird circular blade that could be split down the middle into two semicircles. She was spinning one half of her chakram lazily between her fingers.
She's got that grin on her face, this isn't going to be good.
"Kael, time's up." she said, voice cutting through the quiet.
I nodded, tightening my shoulders. I knew what was coming next. No more drills, no more practice runs.
Can't say I'm that excited for this one…
She stepped forward, clicking the two halves of her chakram together, and started to explain the rules.
"You either last ten minutes without getting knocked out, or you land one hit on me." She said, eyes gleaming.
Well, that's easier said then done.
She continued. "I'll only be using about five percent. Not to gloat but that's more then enough, so you better give it your all."
"Yeah, that sounded like gloating to me."
I watched as she pressed one of her charges on a nearby rock. The stone shot into the air with a crack, hitting a branch.
She's seriously showing off now?
"You ready?"
I breathed out slow and steady, bracing myself.
"What if I say no?"
She laughed.
"Begin."
The moment Plor's voice faded, the air around us shifted.
She didn't wait for me to move first. Instead, her hand glided along the bark of a nearby tree. It rippled like a wave over the surface, as if the tree itself had been charged with some strange force.
Suddenly, with a sharp crack, a chunk of wood burst free, streaking through the air towards me.
I flicked instinctively, teleporting out of its path just as it slammed into the ground behind me. Heart pounding, I landed ready.
Plor's grin widened.
"Okay, nice dodge. Let's start stepping it up now."
She pulled her chakram from her jacket, splitting them apart with loud click. One of them spun on her finger. The other was just stationary in the air, as if it was being compressed like a spring, the metal slightly warping. Then, it flashed like a lightning bolt, straight towards me.
I barely dodged, teleporting at just the last second. It blitzed through where I just was, carving through the thick trunk of a tree.
She laughed, that wild, carefree laugh I'd grown used to.
"You're slower than I thought."
"Then why'd you miss?" I shot back, voice steady.
She shot her hands into the ground. The world seemingly pulsing around her, the ground rippled, earth quaking.
A seismic surge pushed up through the earth, shoving me off balance. I staggered, but caught the shimmer and flicked forward, landing on a slippery rock.
She shot towards me, not in a sprint, quite literally just flying.
Well… that's new…
She swiped her hand at my chest, I flicked, coming up behind a fallen tree. The shimmer pulsed hot in my chest.
She wasn't just fast, she was everywhere at once. Charges pulsed around her fingers, across the trees, even the air seemed to ripple with her power.
She pushed two charges on the chakram, maybe equal forces from opposite sides, then dropped one suddenly sending it shooting like a bullet.
I barely flicked aside in time, the air humming with the force that missed by inches.
"Good job, it's half time." she called out.
The fight wasn't just physical anymore. It was a test of will. Every push and pull from her Point twisted the ground, the air, even my own momentum.
She slapped a charge on one of my boots, it felt like gravity had been amplified, gluing me down into the earth. She grabbed a tree, ripping it out of the earth, she hit it with her palm launching it at me.
I ripped my foot out of the boot, and flicked into the air, it swept under me, leaving a path of destruction as it splintered, trees toppling in its wake.
I'm not going to get anywhere just running.
I flicked behind her, swinging a punch at her back, more out of instinct than hope.
A strange pressure slowed me down, my punch seemingly opposed by a strange force. A wave of compressed air pressed against me, suddenly I was launched. I skidded across mud and tore through foliage, my skin scratched and bloodied.
She spun around, spinning both halves of her chakram between her hands like twin moons.
"Nearly," she said, smirking. "But, you'll have to try a little bit harder."
I gritted my teeth.
Fuck…
Every flick pulled at my insides. The burn was sharper now, a low roar under my ribs, but I kept moving.
She charged a volley of projectiles at me, they tore through the air, it looked like grim rain, if rain fell horizontally.
I teleported a hundred or so meters back, mud splattered up my sleeves, but I stayed on my feet.
Stone and wood tore through the forest ahead of me, as if it was seeking life.
She laughed again, then shouted out.
"You're tougher than you look!"
I wiped mud from my cheek.
"This is what you wanted, right!? To fight me!?"
"Of course! More then anything!"
She gestured to the clearing, as if trying to wave me over.
The chakram halves hummed, flying in tight circles, slicing the air with silver arcs.
I dodged, flicked, rolled, my whole body moving with the shimmer now. I wasn't just reacting. I was predicting, feeling the pull and push of her charges, learning to read her patterns.
And yet, despite everything, I hadn't landed a single hit.
Ten minutes felt like forever, each second stretching with the tension.
But I wasn't done.