BAM.
Elliot’s fist slamd into the punching bag again. Nothing.
He stepped back, shaking his hand. “Okay. Either this thing’s cursed or I’m hitting the world's most passive-aggressive training dummy.”
Leon sat on a rock nearby, sipping tea like he was watching a pleasant sunrise. “You’re still holding back.”
“I focused that ti!”
“You flinched at the last second. You’re thinking too much about not doing it wrong. Instead, just do it right.”
Elliot turned slowly. “That’s the most unhelpful advice I’ve ever heard.”
Leon smiled. “Then you’re close to understanding it.”
Elliot let out a groan and squared up again. Behind him, Towan’s scream pierced the trees.
SPLASH.
Towan resurfaced, sputtering and gasping as the current pushed him downstream.
“Damn it!” he barked, dragging himself back toward the rock with all the fury of a wet cat. “It’s like kicking on a bar of soap during an earthquake!”
Leon’s voice carried from the shore. “Keep your core tight. You’re letting the water decide your flow instead of matching it.”
“Because that sounds easy,” Towan muttered. He climbed back onto the rock, took his stance, focused his Essentia… and the waterfall imdiately shifted to the side, throwing off his balance.
SPLASH.
From the bushes, Elliot’s muffled laughter echoed between punches. “Hey, at least my target doesn’t throw into a river.”
Towan surfaced again, hair plastered over his face like a soggy helt. “Oh yeah? My target literally punches back. With gravity.”
By midday, their bodies ached, soaked and bruised.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to for the genuine story.
Elliot sat cross-legged, arms sore and red. The bag still hadn’t moved more than a polite wiggle. “What if… hear out… the bag respects too much to flinch?”
“Nope,” Leon said, arms still calmly crossed. “The bag just doesn’t believe in you yet.”
Towan sat shirtless on a nearby rock, drying off under the sun, glaring at the waterfall like it had personally insulted his ancestors. “This thing has no chill. It’s like it knows when I’m trying too hard.”
Leon raised an eyebrow. “Because it does. Both of you are still trying to control the flow like it’s sothing outside of you. But Essentia isn’t an object. It’s an extension of you. It obeys purpose, not fear. Direction, not force.”
Towan huffed. “Philosophy lessons are cool and all, but I’d like to finish one kick without getting baptized.”
Leon stood, stepping into the center of the clearing. “Then stop treating this like a fight against the elents. Start flowing with them.”
He reached toward the waterfall, extending his arm—then gently swept his leg in a precise arc. Water curved with his motion, and for just a mont, the downpour paused midair, parting perfectly like silk around his foot.
Both boys stared, speechless.
Leon dropped his leg and turned back toward them. “You’ll get there. When you stop fighting your instincts… and start understanding them.”
Towan blinked. “That was… actually pretty cool.”
Elliot leaned toward him. “Bro. I think he’s a ninja.”
Leon smirked. “I’m just soone who’s fallen off more rocks than you’ve stood on.”
Shortly after, they stopped for lunch
Leon leaned back against a rock, arms crossed, eyes on the flas. “You ever wonder why elental users don’t look buffed at all?”
Towan snorted. “Knew a guy who couldn’t even lift a bucket, but could throw boulders with Earth Essentia.”
“Exactly.” Leon nodded. “Most elental users don’t need to train their bodies. Their Essentia flows outward, shaping fire, wind, stone... The elent carries the force, not the body.”
He looked at them now, his tone firr.
“But Natural Essentia is different. Your flow stays inside. Your bones, your tendons, your breath—they’re part of the technique. You don’t throw a punch with air or fla. You throw yourself. If your body’s weak, your flow stutters. If your form’s off, the Essentia doesn’t align. It slips. It fizzles.”
Elliot stirred his stew slowly, thinking. “So… elental users don’t train their body at all because their power doesn't depend on it. But if we did that, we'd be useless.”
Leon gave a small, approving nod. “Exactly. That’s why you train like this. No shortcuts. No fireballs. If your body can’t endure your own power, it’ll break from the inside out.”
Towan raised an eyebrow. “So all this waterfall slipping and bag punching is... body tuning?”
“Think of it like forging a blade,” Leon said. “Elental users add edge and flash. But you—you’re becoming the blade.”
He stood up, stretching his arms overhead.
“And right now,” he added, turning toward the cabin, “you’re both dull as hell.”
Towan slumped forward. “Why is every taphor you give sohow offensive?”
Leon smirked. “Because you rember those.”
After the quick lunch, both brothers decided to keep training
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