Chapter 91: Training

Chapter 91: Chapter 91: Training

"Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will." — Mahatma Gandhi

The subterranean training vault was quiet except for the steady dripping of water from the vaulted stone ceiling.

Riven stood in the center of the rune carved training circle, his breath forming faint clouds in the cold air. Blue mana lamps illuminated the walls, casting long shadows across the stone floor.

His right hand was finally healed.

He slowly opened and closed his fingers, testing the movement. The skin across his palm was still faintly pink, but the pain was gone, and his tendons moved without resistance.

Lyra’s salve had done its job.

Now he could return to training.

Riven flexed his fingers one last time before raising his hand.

He had spent the past few days thinking about what Lyra had told him. About how he always pushed himself too far, how he treated his own injuries as if they didn’t matter, and how he seemed to believe that relying on someone was a weakness.

He still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it.

But he had decided to try something different.

Instead of treating his body like something disposable, he would learn its limits. Instead of forcing his magic into submission, he would understand it.

It sounded simple enough.

Actually doing it was another matter.

Riven closed his eyes and took a slow breath.

All right. Let’s try this again.

He reached inward, toward the dense, dark core resting deep within him.

His core responded immediately.

Shadow mana stirred beneath his skin, gathering in his palm. Dark wisps curled around his fingers, drawing together as he began forming the spell.

The air grew colder.

The blue lights along the walls flickered as the mana around him was pulled toward the forming sphere.

Riven kept his breathing steady.

Shadow Orb had always been difficult to control. It demanded an absurd amount of mana compression, forcing him to condense his power into a tiny space while keeping the surrounding energy from collapsing inward too quickly.

The slightest mistake could destroy the structure.

Worse, the backlash could travel straight through his arm.

He had already learned that the hard way.

A dark sphere formed above his palm, roughly the size of an apple. Its surface twisted constantly, swallowing the light around it. Tiny sparks of black energy snapped across its surface.

The spell was stable.

For now.

Then the pain began.

A sharp, burning sensation spread from his palm to his wrist. It felt as though someone had driven a heated needle beneath his skin, pushing it slowly up his forearm.

His fingers twitched.

Riven’s first instinct was to clamp down harder.

Force the mana into place. Ignore the pain. Hold on until his body gave out.

That was how he had survived the mines. It was how he had survived the badlands. Whenever something hurt, he had learned to grit his teeth and keep going.

But surviving wasn’t the same as getting stronger.

He remembered Lyra sitting beside him, carefully wrapping his burned hand. He remembered how she’d looked at him when he’d admitted what happened to Garreth.

She hadn’t told him to toughen up.

She hadn’t looked at him differently.

She had simply stayed.

Riven let out a slow breath.

I don’t have to fight everything.

He loosened his fingers slightly, allowing the mana to shift instead of forcing it into a rigid shape.

The sphere wobbled.

His heart jumped.

For one terrible moment, the entire structure threatened to collapse.

Riven resisted the urge to seize control. Instead, he adjusted the flow, guiding the unstable mana back into its proper path.

The sphere steadied.

His eyes opened, fixed on the dark mass hovering above his palm.

"Come on," he muttered. "Just hold together."

One second passed.

Then two.

The pain continued to climb his arm, but he kept his breathing even. The sphere trembled, its surface rippling as it struggled against the pressure building inside it.

Three seconds.

A sharp crackle echoed through the vault. Black sparks struck the floor around his boots, leaving tiny scorched marks in the stone.

Riven’s fingers began to shake.

He could feel his mana channels straining beneath the pressure. His hand was growing numb, and a deep ache had begun spreading toward his elbow.

His instinct screamed at him to push harder.

He ignored it.

Four seconds.

The sphere flickered.

Riven swallowed, sweat gathering along his forehead despite the cold.

"Not yet."

Five seconds.

The orb began to distort, its surface folding inward as the compressed mana threatened to escape its containment.

Riven recognized the warning.

He could try to hold it longer, but the risk was no longer worth it. One more second might give him a better result, or it might leave him with another burned hand and several days of lost training.

For once, he didn’t need to prove that he could endure the pain.

He closed his fist.

The Shadow Orb collapsed inward with a muffled pop. Dark wisps scattered through the air before fading into nothing.

The blue mana lamps flickered once and returned to their normal brightness.

Riven staggered forward, catching himself with his left hand against the edge of the training circle.

He sucked in a breath.

His chest rose and fell as he tried to steady himself. Sweat clung to his forehead, and his right arm throbbed with a deep, uncomfortable ache.

He opened his hand cautiously.

The skin was flushed, but intact.

No blisters. No spreading burns. His fingers still moved.

Riven stared at his palm for several seconds.

Then he laughed under his breath.

"Finally."

It wasn’t much. Five seconds was hardly impressive compared with what he eventually wanted to accomplish.

But it was the longest he had maintained the spell without losing control.

And this time, he hadn’t destroyed his hand in the process.

He lowered himself onto a nearby stone bench, resting his right arm across his lap while he waited for the pain to subside.

He had learned something important.

The problem wasn’t simply that his core held too much power. He had been treating the spell like an opponent he needed to overpower, when what he really needed was to guide it.

He still had a long way to go, but at least he was finally moving in the right direction.

A soft clicking sound came from above.

Riven looked up.

Nyx had been watching from her usual perch on the high stone ledge. The little creature spread her dark wings and glided down, landing on his left shoulder.

Her violet eyes studied his face before she nudged his cheek with her beak.

Riven smiled faintly and scratched beneath her chin.

"Yeah, I’m fine."

Nyx gave another quiet click, apparently unconvinced.

"Mostly fine."

She settled against his neck, her small body warm beneath the dark scales that swallowed the light around her.

Riven leaned back against the wall and let his eyes close for a moment.

The spell was still far from mastered. He would need to repeat the exercise, gradually increasing the time he could maintain the orb while learning to control its density and prevent the pressure from damaging his mana channels.

He also needed to be careful not to mistake one successful attempt for proof that he could handle anything.

That would be a very easy mistake to make.

He glanced at his right hand again.

For most of his life, he had believed that pain was something to endure in silence. If he could keep moving, then everything was fine. If he couldn’t, he had failed.

But perhaps strength wasn’t just about how much punishment he could take.

Perhaps it was about knowing when to stop, when to change his approach, and when to let someone help him.

The thought still felt unfamiliar.

He wasn’t sure he liked it.

But he was beginning to understand it.

Riven opened his eyes and looked toward the center of the training circle.

"Tomorrow," he said.

Nyx tilted her head.

"Not tonight. I’ve had enough."

She made a soft, questioning chirp.

Riven chuckled and gently rubbed her head.

"Don’t look at me like that. You can go back to sleep."

Nyx settled more comfortably around his shoulders, seemingly satisfied with his decision.

For once, Riven didn’t force himself to stand and try again.

He stayed on the bench for a while longer, letting his body recover and his breathing return to normal.

The road ahead was still dangerous, and the Shadow Orb remained one of the most difficult spells he had ever attempted.

But he had made progress.

And this time, he hadn’t needed to destroy himself to do it.