Chapter 47 Back to the basics
Sera’s POV
We all retired for the night. I slept like a log. The next morning Maera had set up the training grounds. It was quiet, almost serene. My hands flexed over the smooth surface of the signet ring, the warmth of it still radiating through my skin. The sigil’s glow had faded, but I could feel it beneath my skin, a reminder of what I’d become overnight, an Alpha.
Maera was already there when I arrived, her stance relaxed but her eyes sharp, scanning me with that unnerving intensity she always carried. “Ready, Sera?” she asked, her voice calm, but it carried that subtle roughness that warned me she wasn’t playing around.
I dropped my bag and stretched, rolling my shoulders dramatically. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, though a yawn threatened to sneak past my lips. “Honestly, this looks like basic training. Strength, focus, healing… all the stuff I’ve done before in school.”
Maera’s eyes narrowed, and her lips twitched like she was suppressing something, maybe frustration. “You think this is ‘basic’? You think controlling raw power, bloodline energy, and hybrid instincts is basic?” she asked, her voice low but commanding. “Do you understand why we’re starting here?”
I crossed my arms, trying to hide my impatience. “I get it. Fundamentals. But I already know my strengths. I know how to fight. I’ve trained before.” My words came out sharper than I meant, but I couldn’t stop them.
Her expression softened just a fraction, just enough for me to see the weight of her experience, the countless battles she’d fought and survived. “And yet,” she said, gesturing to the clearing, “do you know how to control your strength without losing focus? Do you know how to heal someone with bloodline energy without draining yourself? Do you know how to make your powers a tool rather than a weapon? You think this is simple, Sera, but every Alpha, every hybrid before you has faced this moment. They all thought they were ready. And every one of them learned the hard way that raw power without control is dangerous, to themselves and everyone around them.”
I chewed on her words, but I hated being scolded. “Fine,” I muttered, rolling my eyes but following her to the center of the clearing. “Show me what you want.”
Maera began with tests of focus, small at first. Balancing objects, channeling energy from one hand to the other. The motions were simple, but every time I tried, my mind splintered, pulled toward memories, instincts, the faint whisper of power the sigil had left behind. I dropped the objects more than once. My frustration built like a low boil inside me.
“This isn’t about the object,” Maera said, stepping beside me, her hand brushing mine in a way that sent a jolt up my spine. “It’s about control. Center yourself. Feel the flow, don’t fight it.”
I closed my eyes, trying to follow her words. I let my breath slow, felt the forest, the soil, the faint vibrations of life around me. The objects lifted, hovered, and wobbled dangerously. My teeth clenched, arms trembling, until they clattered to the ground.
Maera sighed. “Better,” she said, voice neutral. “But you aren’t flowing, you’re forcing. You can’t force this, Sera. You have to be patient. Focus on the basics first. Heal first, then lift. Strength follows control, not the other way around.”
I groaned, feeling my own impatience pressing against me. “Basics, basics, basics,” I muttered. “I feel like I’ve been doing this since I was twelve. I just want to—” I stopped, swallowing hard. “…I want to know what I can really do. The sigil… it’s awake now. I can feel it, Maera. I’m not just any hybrid anymore. Why are we wasting time on training exercises?”
Her eyes softened again, but her tone sharpened. “Because, Sera, if you ever try to use the sigil without knowing your own limits, you could hurt everyone, yourself included. The power you just unlocked isn’t just yours. It resonates through every bloodline you carry. Uncontrolled, it will burn you out, or worse, it will burn others.”
I stared at her, heart hammering. I knew she was right. But part of me wanted to explode, to feel the fire in my veins roar without restraint. The thought of testing myself against something or someone else, seeing the sheer breadth of my strength, made my fingers twitch.
Maera clapped her hands once. “Enough talking. Let’s move to physical strength. Lift the logs. Focus your energy, but maintain balance. You are a hybrid, Sera. Let the instincts guide you, but keep your mind as sharp as your body.”
The logs were heavy, rough-hewn, almost twice my weight. I grunted as I lifted one, muscles straining, sweat prickling my forehead. Every fiber of my body screamed, but I didn’t let go. Maera watched silently, occasionally shifting her weight, nodding when I balanced a particularly stubborn log with precision.
“You see,” she said, her voice cutting through my exhaustion, “power without finesse is wasted. You can move mountains, Sera, but if you can’t control them, you’ll crush everything in your path. That includes yourself.”
I dropped to my knees, panting. “Okay, okay, I get it. Basics, control, focus. I hear you,” I said, voice rough with fatigue and frustration. But even as I spoke, I felt a spark ignite inside me. The sigil pulsed faintly on my finger, reminding me of the larger battles ahead, the enemies who were already sensing the stir of power within me.
Next came the healing test. Maera set a practice dummy on the ground, one I had to stabilize, channeling energy into its wounds. My first attempt was sloppy at best. The energy burned through me, leaving my arms tingling and my vision blurry. Panic rose in my chest, I could feel the consequences if this were a real wound.
“Breathe,” Maera said sharply. “You control the flow, Sera. Not the other way around.”
I shut my eyes, grounding myself. Memories of my father, his stern yet patient gaze, and the feeling of safety I once had surged through me. I focused, and this time, the energy flowed gently, almost lazily at first, but steadily. The wounds on the dummy began to knit together, the flesh knitting seamlessly, the sinew reconnecting as if I had performed a miracle.
My chest heaved, a mix of triumph and terror swirling in my stomach. “I… I did it,” I whispered, though part of me feared saying it aloud would make the power vanish.
Maera nodded, almost approvingly. “Yes. You did it. But don’t celebrate yet. You’re only learning the language of your bloodlines. Now, focus on maintaining this under stress, under pressure. If the real fight comes calling, and it will, you’ll need to do this without faltering, without thinking twice.”
I sank to the ground, hands clutching my knees, sweat dripping down my back. My body screamed at me to stop, to give up, but my mind refused. Every fiber of me wanted more, craved the exhilaration of power and control. I glanced at Maera, and I saw a flicker of pride in her eyes.
“You’re bored,” she said suddenly, reading my expression perfectly. “You think this is too easy, maybe too slow. But mark my words, Sera, mastering the basics is the difference between a leader who survives and one who dies before she even understands her own strength.”
I wanted to argue, to claim I already understood everything but I couldn’t. My muscles ached.
I lay back on the forest floor, looking up through the canopy. Sunlight dappled the ground. My chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, I let myself simply feel the fatigue, the frustration, the thrill, and the weight of responsibility pressing against me.
“This is crazy. I can't believe this is happening.” I muttered, almost to myself.
Maera’s voice came from somewhere nearby, calm but laced with authority, “It is overwhelming. But there's no time to sulk. If you want to survive, Sera, this is where everything begins.”