Elliot didn’t reply.
He just stared.
Watched.
asured.
“His stance isn’t fixed. It flows.” Elliot murmured aloud, more to himself than anyone else
“He’s using Essentia like an anchor channeling his weight down to the ground. Every ti Towan struck, the force was redirected through his channels either towards towan, or to the ground, making him not be moved by the impact.”
“He’s not blocking, He’s grounding”
He narrowed his eyes.
“But if that channel breaks—if I can disrupt the foundation, even for a second…”
He inhaled.
Then dashed forward—not as fast as Towan, but sharper, tighter.
Two steps in, and he feinted a strike at Eryndar’s shoulder. A classic setup to disrupt balance.
(I guess he didn’t think it through.) Eryndar readied a counter.
Then—
At the last mont, Elliot redirected.
His true target wasn’t Eryndar.
It was the dirt.
He opened his palm and slamd it into the ground just in front of Eryndar’s lead foot, sending a precise burst of Essentia downward and outward.
He could feel it: the channel of energy, the tremble in the earth—
C’mon, c’mon… potatoes, don’t fail now…
He’d read it in a book buried in Leon’s old shelf. A technique with the dumbest na imaginable:
“Getting Potatoes Out of the Ground.”
It sounded ridiculous.
But it was genius.
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The force didn’t hit Eryndar directly. It unbalanced the ground under him—just enough to shake the Essentia flow that kept him rooted.
Eryndar’s foot shifted.
Barely.
But it was enough.
The loop broke.
Eryndar’s foot shifted.
The line of pressure broke.
Elliot moved in imdiately, knee snapping up—not to strike, but to bump the man’s center of gravity in the instant of imbalance.
The Wall moved.
A footstep.
Backwards.
Eryndar caught himself instantly, replanting with a short block to Elliot’s leg, eyes flashing with sothing between surprise and respect.
He’d lost the challenge.
“…Well done,” he muttered.
Towan’s mouth dropped open.
“You moved him?!”
Elliot stepped back, breathing a little harder than before.
“Yeah. It’s not about overpowering the wall,” he said, brushing off his hand.
“It’s about finding the crack.”
“Not bad,” Eryndar said, straightening his stance, brushing dust off his sleeve.
“I suppose… you’re worth the trouble.”
His voice was flat, but there was sothing beneath it. Not warmth—Eryndar didn’t do warmth—but weight. As if the words cost sothing to say.
He turned without another word and started walking back toward the dojo.
But as his steps carried him away, his thoughts stayed behind.
(They’re strong.)
(Smarter than they should be. Faster than they should be. And sothing in that boy’s flow…)
(It’s trying to rember a fight I haven’t had.)
He clenched his fists as he walked.
(Rheon believed in them. So I have to try. But gods help —if they break like the others… if they burn out like she did…)
He didn’t finish the thought.
Just kept walking, the pressure of his silence heavier than any lesson.
The dojo had quieted down and night ca.
Inside, Elliot was still flipping through notes, muttering about potato techniques. Towan was probably passed out near the waterfall again, too stubborn to sleep in a bed.
But outside, under the pale moonlight, Eryndar stood alone at the edge of the forest.
Arms crossed. Shoulders still.
Eyes locked on sothing long gone.
Selene approached, slow and silent. She didn’t announce herself. She didn’t need to.
“You vanished pretty fast after they impressed you,” she said, stopping beside him.
Eryndar didn’t look at her.
“They’re better than I expected.”
A beat of silence.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He finally spoke again, low.
“It’s not.”
He paused, jaw tight.
“It’s just… familiar.”
Selene glanced at him. He wasn’t watching the trees.
He was watching ghosts.
“You see your old team?”
“No.”
“I see what’s left of them.”
“Kael, gone. Orvan, missing. Rheon…” He shook his head slightly. “And my wife.”
“My apprentices… took their own path. I don’t bla them.”
His voice didn’t waver. But it felt like it should’ve.
“There’s not much left that I protected, Selene. Not much I kept.”
She was quiet for a mont.
“And now you see two more nas walking toward the fire.”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t nod. Didn’t flinch.
Just stared.
“You think they’ll burn like the others?” Selene asked
“I don’t know,” he said.
“But it’s harder to watch than I expected.”
Selene turned back toward the dojo lights.
“Maybe don’t watch from a distance, then.”
Eryndar didn’t reply.
And Selene didn’t press further.
They just stood there, side by side, under the stars —with the weight of old wars, old friends, and futures they hadn’t chosen yet.
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