Apostles' War

Training Ground – Morning

Elian stood on the smooth, white stone.

Beyond the terrace, the golden sky of Eidalein shimmered, clouds drifting like slow-moving rivers above a vast, bottomless horizon. The training ground felt sacred — a silent plateau surrounded by spiraling columns, flowering trees, and the ever-present whisper of cascading waterfalls.

He flexed his fingers, still unsure what he was meant to do today.

Then came the soft sound of steps — two silhouettes approaching.

Talia Miren, clad in the flowing blue-white garments of her homeland, her silver hair tied back, a calm smile on her lips.

Beside her walked Leon Yu, quiet as mist, dressed in simple gray robes without ornament. His expression was unreadable, but his gaze — deep and unflinching — met Elian's with a kind warmth.

"We'll be taking over your second phase of training," Talia said brightly, tossing him a wrapped cloth. "You've done well under Marcus and Enoch — now it's time to see how you move with clarity… and hope."

Leon nodded silently, stepping around Elian in a slow circle.

"No stance yet. Your balance is hesitant," he said. "We'll fix that."

Elian raised a brow. "How exactly?"

Talia grinned. "By falling a lot."

----------

The next hour was a blur of movement and instruction.

Talia led him through radiant footwork — fluid, dance-like motions rooted in awareness and rhythm. She called them Hope's Ladders, and made him repeat them until his lungs burned.

Leon focused on his posture — correcting his angles with subtle touches, never raising his voice.

"Move from your breath," Leon said. "Not your fear."

"Kindness is not weakness. But kindness without discipline? That is."

When Elian grew frustrated, panting and wiping sweat from his brow, Talia sat beside him with a canteen and her ever-soft voice

"Do you know why our sigils burn?" she asked.

Elian shook his head.

"Because the world still needs us," she said, her voice like sunlight. "And you… you are needed more than you know."

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Before the training ended, Leon instructed Elian to face a series of mirrored pillars across the terrace.

"Each one holds an echo of your fear," he said. "Step into their reflections. Face them."

Elian hesitated at first. But as he touched the first glass — his image shifted.

He saw his mother's face. The street where he grew up. Then the monsters. The voices. The night he ran from the forest.

He stumbled back.

But then he heard Talia, whispering behind him "Breathe. And step forward."

He did.

One by one, he passed the pillars. Each vision clawed at his nerves, tried to make him falter — but he didn't fall.

At the end, he stood taller.

Leon gave a small nod of approval. "Better. You moved forward. Even trembling."

"That is humility. Not thinking less of yourself — but remembering you are still learning."

-----

As the session ended, Talia handed him a folded sash — midnight blue and stitched with a golden feather.

"You've earned this," she said. "A token of your first completed round."

Elian blinked. "It's… just a sash."

"Exactly," Leon replied. "Simple. Like a truth."

As they walked away, Elian stood alone on the terrace, breath slowing.

He didn't feel like an Apostle yet.

But for the first time since the mark appeared…

He no longer felt like a victim.