I didn't understand time.
Not really.
Before this place, everything felt the same. Days didn't matter. Nights didn't matter. There was only work… and pain… and silence.
But here—
Things were different.
I started noticing the spaces between things.
The quiet after training.
The warmth of food before it went cold.
The way people spoke… and what they didn't say.
I didn't know when it happened.
But I started paying attention.
Mugen was the first one who made me slow down.
"Stop rushing," he said, stepping around me as I swung too early. "You move like you're trying to win in one hit."
I missed.
Again.
He didn't even try to block.
"Watch first," he continued. "Then move."
I frowned.
That didn't make sense.
If I didn't move first, I'd lose.
But every time I rushed him—
I lost anyway.
So I watched.
His shoulders.
His feet.
The way his weight shifted before he moved.
The next time I attacked—
I waited.
Just a moment.
And for the first time—
I touched him.
Barely.
But it was enough.
Mugen paused, glancing down at where I hit him.
Then he smirked.
"…There you go."
Freya was different.
She didn't fight me like Mugen did.
She made me sit.
"Read," she said, placing a book in front of me.
I stared at it.
The symbols didn't make sense.
"They're letters," she said calmly. "They form words."
"I don't get it."
"You will."
She didn't raise her voice.
Didn't get frustrated.
Even when I messed up.
Even when I repeated the same mistake over and over again.
She just corrected me.
Again.
And again.
And again.
"Slow down," she would say. "Say it properly."
"…Ta…mu…ra…"
"That's your name. You should at least say it correctly."
I didn't like it at first.
Sitting still.
Thinking.
But over time—
The sounds started to make sense.
The shapes started to mean something.
And when I finally read a full sentence without stopping—
Freya smiled.
Just a little.
"Good," she said.
I didn't know why—
But that felt… better than winning a fight.
Aylin didn't say much.
She never really did.
But she was always there.
Watching.
Sometimes, we would sit in the same room without speaking.
No training.
No lessons.
Just silence.
At first, I didn't understand it.
I thought I was doing something wrong.
But she never told me to leave.
Never looked annoyed.
So I stayed.
And eventually—
The silence didn't feel heavy anymore.
It felt…
Calm.
I started learning other things too.
How to eat slower.
Even though I didn't like it.
"Chew your food," Freya would say, watching me closely.
"It tastes the same," I muttered.
"That's not the point."
Mugen laughed the first time I tried.
"You look like you're fighting your plate," he said.
"…Shut up."
He grinned.
"There it is."
Training didn't stop.
It just changed.
Mugen still fought me.
But now—
He explained things.
"Your body moves before you think," he said once. "That's not always a good thing."
He stepped behind me, tapping my shoulder.
"If I hit you here, what do you do?"
I turned too fast.
He knocked me down instantly.
"Wrong."
I pushed myself up.
"Again."
He sighed.
"…You're stubborn."
I moved again.
Slower this time.
Thinking.
Watching.
He didn't knock me down.
"…Better."
The heat inside me didn't go away.
If anything—
It got worse.
But now—
I could feel it.
Before, it just happened.
Now—
I noticed it building.
When I got angry.
When I got frustrated.
When I thought too much about things I didn't understand.
Mugen called it Verdance.
Fire.
That's what they thought it was.
So we trained it like it was.
"Don't let it explode," he said. "Control it."
"I don't know how."
"Figure it out."
That was his answer to most things.
It annoyed me.
But it worked.
Sometimes.
The heat would rise—
And instead of letting it burst out—
I held it.
Just for a second longer each time.
It burned.
But I held it.
I started talking more.
Not a lot.
But more than before.
Mugen helped with that.
"Say what you're thinking," he told me.
"…Why?"
"Because if you don't, people decide it for you."
I didn't like that.
So I started speaking.
At first, it came out wrong.
Too blunt.
Too sharp.
Mugen laughed every time.
"…You've got a mouth on you," he said.
Freya didn't find it as funny.
"Be respectful," she corrected.
"…Why?"
"Because not everyone deserves your honesty."
That didn't make sense.
But I tried anyway.
Days passed.
I think.
Maybe weeks.
I'm not sure.
But things changed.
Not just around me.
Inside me.
I wasn't just reacting anymore.
I was thinking.
Watching.
Choosing.
And for the first time—
I started to understand something.
Strength wasn't just about hitting harder.
Or moving faster.
It was about control.
Patience.
Knowing when to act—
And when not to.
But no matter how much I learned…
No matter how much things changed…
There was one thing I couldn't ignore.
Tasheen.
The crest.
The way they took him.
Every time I thought about it—
The heat came back.
Stronger.
Heavier.
Different.
I clenched my fists.
Quietly.
No one noticed.
But I did.
And this time—
I didn't let it out.
I held it.
Because I knew something now.
Something simple.
Something clear.
If I wanted to leave this place—
If I wanted to save them—
If I wanted answers—
Then one thing mattered more than anything else.
I had to get stronger.
The heat came easier now.
Not all at once.
Not like before.
Before, it felt like something inside me breaking loose—wild, uncontrollable, burning everything in its way.
Now—
It listened.
A little.
I stared at my hand.
Focused.
Mugen stood a few steps away, arms crossed.
"Stop trying to force it," he said. "You keep doing that and you're just gonna burn yourself again."
"I'm not forcing it."
"You are."
I frowned.
Then exhaled slowly.
Freya's voice echoed in my head.
Slow down.
So I did.
I stopped trying to make it happen.
And instead—
I felt it.
The heat.
It started small.
Deep in my chest.
Then moved.
Slowly.
Down my arm.
Into my hand.
My fingers twitched.
"…There," Mugen muttered. "Don't lose it."
I didn't respond.
I couldn't.
All my focus was on my hand.
On holding it.
Shaping it.
A spark.
Small.
Barely visible.
Then—
A flame.
It flickered at the tip of my finger.
Weak.
Unstable.
But there.
My eyes widened slightly.
"I did it…"
Mugen leaned in a little.
"…Don't get excited," he said. "You'll lose it."
I tightened my jaw.
The flame wavered.
Then steadied.
Slowly—
I moved it.
Let it spread.
From one finger—
To my hand.
The heat grew.
The flame crawled across my skin, wrapping around my fingers, then my palm.
It didn't feel right.
It burned.
Not like before.
Not wild.
But still—
Painful.
I ignored it.
Pushed further.
The fire expanded.
Covering my fist now.
Brighter.
Stronger.
For a moment—
It felt good.
Like I had control over it.
Like it was mine.
"…That's enough," Mugen said.
I didn't stop.
I wanted more.
I clenched my fist tighter.
The flame surged—
Then snapped.
Pain shot through my hand.
Sharp.
Immediate.
I dropped it instantly.
The fire vanished.
I grabbed my wrist, breathing heavier now as the skin along my knuckles reddened.
"…Told you," Mugen said. "You can't hold it long yet."
I didn't respond.
I just stared at my hand.
At what I did.
At what I almost lost control of.
"…Still," Mugen added after a second. "That was decent."
I looked up slightly.
"Decent?"
He smirked.
"For you."
I exhaled slowly.
My hand still burned.
But underneath that—
There was something else.
Understanding.
I could feel it now.
The difference between losing control—
And holding it.
Even for a moment.
That's when I noticed them.
I didn't hear them come in.
Didn't feel them.
But they were there.
Watching.
Near the far end of the training hall.
Vayra stood with her hands folded behind her back, her posture perfect as always. Her eyes were locked on me—not with anger… not even with emotion.
Just interest.
Beside her—
Guards.
The same ones.
The ones from before.
The ones who dragged me.
Beat me.
Chained me.
They rotated often.
But I remembered their faces.
They weren't relaxed.
They weren't bored.
They were tense.
Like they were waiting for something.
For me to do something.
Mugen noticed them too.
His expression didn't change.
But his shoulders shifted slightly.
"…Ignore them," he muttered.
I didn't.
I couldn't.
Vayra tilted her head just slightly.
Studying me.
Like I was something to be understood.
Something to be measured.
Something to be used.
My hand tightened.
The heat stirred again.
Faint.
Low.
Different this time.
Not wild.
Not explosive.
Just there.
Waiting.
Watching them—
The same way they watched me.
I didn't like it.
Not the way they looked at me.
Not the way they waited.
Not the way it made me feel.
But this time—
I didn't lose control.
I held it.