Part 2-Chapter 18

Part 2-Chapter 18
~KAISHA~

Training didn’t begin in the sparring room. It began in the warded basement, where the stone was older and the air remembered things the upper floors pretended not to know. The lights were turned low, deliberately muted until shadows pooled in the corners, and the doors sealed behind us with a heavy finality that made my spine tighten.

This wasn’t practice. This was preparation.

Redakai stopped at the center of the stone floor and turned, his boots scraping softly as he faced me. The sound echoed once, then vanished into the wards as they settled and locked into place around us.

“This is not about learning to reach,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were not. “It is about learning not to.”

I nodded, rolling my shoulders to ease the tightness crawling up my spine, the sensation already beginning to coil there like something waiting for permission. “Containment,” I said, planting my feet more deliberately against the cold stone.

“Yes,” he replied, lifting one hand as the air thickened in response. The pressure didn’t slam into me yet, but it announced itself, a warning tremor through the room. “If you can not hold yourself steady when the city screams, you will not survive when it starts whispering.”

The words landed heavier than the room itself, settling into my ribs where the echo still lived.

Dirk stood off to the side, chalk in hand, already sketching a thin circle into the floor. The sound grated softly against stone, precise and ritualistic. “We’re starting small,” he said, glancing up at me. “Pulse control, not output.”

“Good,” I said, flexing my fingers as heat flickered beneath my skin, restless and sharp. “Because output feels…bad today.”

Redakai’s eyes tracked the movement of my hands, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Describe it,” he said, tone measured, clinical.

“Like static under my bones,” I answered after a breath, swallowing as the wards hummed in response. “Like if I let go, something will answer.”

Dirk finished the circle and straightened, brushing chalk dust from his palms. “That’s resonance seeking a route,” he explained calmly. “Your job is to deny it.”

Redakai stepped closer, stopping just inside my personal space, close enough that I could feel the heat of him without being touched. “Breathe,” he instructed, lowering his voice. “Slow. In through the nose. Out through the mouth.”

I did as told, counting the breaths carefully. One. Two. Three. Each inhale felt like dragging air through resistance, but the pressure eased enough that the shimmer at the edge of my vision dulled.

“Again,” he said, lifting two fingers.

The wards pulsed deliberately.

My heart kicked hard, ribs aching as it tried to outrun the pressure. “That’s not subtle,” I said, jaw clenching as the weight pressed in.

“It will not be subtle out there either,” Redakai replied, meeting my eyes without blinking. “Hold.”

The pressure surged. Instinct flared hot and immediate. Push back. Answer force with force. The pull nearly tore a sound from my throat as my magic surged forward, eager and dangerous.

I dug my heels into the stone instead and forced my focus inward, compressing the heat like I was packing sand into a jar. Smaller. Tighter. Denser. My breath shook as sweat broke along my hairline.

“Good,” Dirk said, nodding as the chalk circle dimmed slightly. “Don’t fight it. Shape it.”

“I am shaping it,” I snapped, teeth clenched as my hands trembled at my sides.

Redakai didn’t flinch. He stepped closer, his presence grounding and immovable. “You are resisting,” he corrected. “Shaping is quieter.”

The wards flared in response, testing me, pressing harder, sharper.

My breath hitched. “Redakai—”

“Stay with me,” he said firmly, placing a steadying hand at the center of my back. The contact was deliberate, anchoring, a reminder of here and now. “Do not reach. Do not remember. Just be.”

The simple command cut through the noise.

I focused on the weight of his hand, the solidity of the room, the unyielding stone beneath my boots. The walls weren’t moving. The floor wasn’t cracking. The world outside could do whatever it wanted. This space was still.

The pressure eased by a fraction.

“There,” Dirk murmured, watching the circle stabilize. “That’s it. You’re damping the echo.”

I exhaled shakily, lungs burning. “That felt like holding my breath underwater.”

Redakai’s hand remained steady. “It will,” he said quietly. “Until your instincts learn the difference between survival and reaction.”

Before I could respond, the wards screamed. Not loud. Sharp. The sound cut through me like glass. I staggered, grabbing Redakai’s arm as a spike of pain lanced through my ribs, white-hot and disorienting.

Dirk cursed and threw his hands up. “External trigger,” he barked. “Olympus just crossed another boundary.”

I gasped, fighting the instinct to lash out as the pressure spiked again. “I can feel them,” I said, voice trembling. “They’re pulling.”

Redakai tightened his grip instantly, anchoring me. “Then hold harder,” he ordered, his voice unwavering.

“I don’t know if I can,” I admitted, teeth clenched as the heat surged violently, slamming against the seal I was trying to maintain.

“Yes, you do,” he said, leaning in until his forehead nearly touched mine. His voice dropped, fierce and certain. “You have done it before.”

The words landed wrong. Memory stirred. Stars. Stone. Blood.

“No,” I whispered, shoving the images down as I compressed the pressure inward, folding it tighter, smaller, quieter until it felt like it might collapse in on itself.

The wards steadied. The screaming stopped. Silence crashed into the room, thick and disorienting, leaving only the sound of my ragged breathing.

Dirk stared at the circle, eyes wide. “You just dampened a live pull,” he said slowly. “Without releasing a pulse.”

I swayed, barely keeping my feet under me. “Is that…good?”

Redakai studied my face for a long beat, his thumb pressing briefly into my shoulder like he was checking to make sure I was still solid, still here. “It is necessary,” he said finally.

I let out a shaky laugh. “That’s not comforting.”

“It was not meant to be,” he replied, releasing me reluctantly. “Again.”

I stared at him. “Right now?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “Because next time, you will not have a room built to catch you.”

I squared my shoulders, forcing my breathing to steady as the wards began to hum again, lower and heavier. “Then don’t stop me,” I said quietly. “Even if it looks bad.”

Redakai’s jaw tightened. “I will stop you,” he said, voice low and deadly serious. “If you start to disappear.”

I met his gaze and nodded once. “Agreed.”

The wards pulsed again, stronger this time, and I held, not because I was fearless, but because the city didn’t get to decide who I became next.