The morning Cassian arrived, even the wind felt disciplined.
The courtyard stood bright under early sunlight, yet no one spoke casually. Younger disciples straightened instinctively as he walked forward.
“Miha.”
She stepped ahead.
Wind gathered at her fingertips, fluid and obedient.
“You possess all four base affinities,” Cassian said evenly.
A murmur passed through the courtyard.
“Wind.”
A spiral formed.
“Water.”
A thin arc hovered midair.
“Fire.”
A smokeless flame flickered.
“Earth.”
The ground shifted subtly.
“Rare,” Cassian said.
Miha held his gaze.
“Do you understand what rarity brings?”
“Responsibility,” she answered.
“Temptation,” he corrected.
Silence.
“Churches compete for power. In a few years, others may attempt to recruit you.”
The words were quiet. Directed.
Her wind trembled slightly before stilling.
“This church does not cage its disciples,” Cassian continued. “Loyalty must be chosen.”
Miha nodded. “Understood.”
His gaze lingered a second longer — testing.
Then he turned.
“Lucas.”
Lucas stepped forward confidently.
“Your wind answers. But it does not submit.”
“It does,” Lucas insisted.
The gust beside him flickered unevenly.
“Pride deafens growth,” Cassian replied.
Lucas stiffened.
“Ethan.”
“Yes.”
“Stable. But hesitation costs lives.”
Ethan bowed.
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Then—
“Elias.”
He stood at the edge.
No aura. No element. No sign.
“Comparable to weakest Stage Seven.”
Elias blinked. “Weakest.”
A few students suppressed laughter.
Cassian remained expressionless.
“Stage Seven is stagnation. You cannot perceive Astral Essence clearly.”
“That explains a lot,” Elias muttered lightly.
“Do you feel anything when you attempt?”
He thought honestly.
“…No. I just stand there.”
Silence.
“You have no manifested affinity,” Cassian said. “You may remain here for years.”
No pity.
Just fact.
Training began.
Two Years Later
Miha refined her elements into precision.
Wind curved like silk. Water obeyed without ripple. Fire burned without smoke. Earth shifted without fracture.
Lucas stabilized comparable near to Stage Six.
The twins — Ethan and Elara improved coordination.
And Elias—
Remained Stage Seven.
He trained.
Nothing happened.
He trained again.
Nothing changed.
So he helped Margaret in the gardens instead.
Carried grain sacks.
Fixed broken fences.
Walked elders home at dusk.
When asked if he minded being behind, he would smile and say:
“I’ll get there eventually.”
Even if something inside him had begun to doubt it.
Evening — Forest Path
“You’re still compared to Stage Seven,” Lucas said bluntly.
“Yeah.”
“You’re not frustrated?”
Elias shrugged. “Everyone grows differently.”
“You haven’t grown at all.”
“…Okay.”
Lucas stopped walking. “That’s it?”
Elias smiled faintly. “Should I cry about it?”
Lucas studied him carefully.
“You know Miha wouldn’t like hearing that.”
Elias stiffened. “Why bring her into this?”
Lucas smirked. “Because you’re obviously into her.”
“I am not.”
“You blush when she says your name.”
“I do not.”
“You do.”
His ears reddened instantly.
“You should tell her,” Lucas said more quietly. “Before someone else does.”
Elias panicked and ran.
Lucas laughed.
“Having fun?”
Lucas nearly jumped.
Miha stood behind him.
“What were you two talking about?”
“Nothing serious,” Lucas replied casually.
“Just Elias worrying about you a little too much.”
Miha rolled her eyes.
“Ridiculous.”
“So you don’t like him?” Lucas teased.
A thin blade of water sliced past his ear.
He flinched.
“That’s not a no.”
Behind a tree—
The twins bolted.
“WAIT—!”
Too late.
The Collision
Elias was still running when he collided with them.
He stumbled back.
“Guess what we saw?” Elara sang.
He narrowed his eyes. “What.”
“Lucas and Miha. Alone.”
“And someone was blushing,” Ethan added.
Elias froze.
“And Lucas asked her about liking each other.”
The air felt heavier.
He looked down at his hands.
They were shaking slightly.
He clenched them.
Then slowly relaxed.
“…Maybe that’s good,” he said quietly.
The twins blinked.
“They’re perfect,” he continued, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Lucas is almost near comparable to Stage Six.”
He looked toward the distant church tower.
“I’m just.....”
Silence.
His voice dropped softer.
“I’m… a failure.”
The words didn’t echo.
They simply settled between them.
He swallowed once.
“It’s fine.”
Village lights shimmered ahead.
“Goodnight.”
He walked away without looking back.
The forest grew still.
A crunch behind them.
Miha stepped out.
“How long were you there?” Ethan asked carefully.
“Long enough.”
Her voice was controlled.
Too controlled.
“He really thinks that?” she asked quietly.
Elara nodded.
Miha looked toward the direction he’d gone.
Cassian’s words resurfaced in her mind.
Other churches may attempt to recruit you.
Loyalty must be chosen.
For the first time—
She wondered:
If power defines worth…
What does that make him?
Her fingers curled.
The wind around her stirred violently for a second before she forced it down.
“…Idiot,” she whispered.
But it wasn’t anger.
It was frustration.
And something dangerously close to guilt.
Far Above
Beyond divine thrones—
Something vast shifted.
It did not awaken.
It observed.
“He still believes he is lesser,” it murmured.
Silence followed.
Then—
A faint ripple passed through the fabric of reality itself.
“He still believes the lie.”
And its gaze remained fixed on the boy walking home alone.
The Church
Cassian’s eyes snapped open.
The divine symbol behind him flickered violently.
His breathing tightened.
“No…”
He stood abruptly.
“It shouldn’t resonate this early.”
For the first time—
Cassian looked afraid.
The Village
Elias paused mid-step.
A warmth brushed over him.
Not mana.
Not wind.
Not fire.
Just—
Recognition.
He looked up.
The sky was clear.
“…Weird.”
And he kept walking.
Unaware.
