Children of The Stellar Severance

Another strike came, this time from above. I dodged instinctively, but the ground beneath me shifted into quicksand, pulling me down. Panic surged, but I forced myself to calm down, pushing aetheric energy through my core.

The quicksand vanished, replaced by solid ground. A flicker of realization sparked within me—I could disrupt her illusions, but only if I focused my eyes to see past them. 

I pushed forward, slashing through the nearest figure. It dissolved into mist, but the next strike landed true, catching the blade of her sword and forcing her to take a step back.

Her smile widened, a glint of approval in her sharp eyes. "Not bad," she said, her voice cutting through the chaos. "You're learning. But can you keep up?"

The illusions intensified, the world around me a dizzying mixture of sights and sounds. For the next hour, I fought through the chaos, each moment a battle of will as much as skill. But by the end of it, I was on my knees, gasping for air, while my limbs trembled from exertion.

Ms. Athena stood a few feet away, her expression unreadable. "You've got potential," she said finally, her tone softer now. "But potential alone won't save you. Discipline and control—that's where true power lies."

I nodded weakly, too drained to speak.

"That sword of yours," Ms. Athena began, her voice calm but laced with an edge I hadn't heard before, "don't use it when training with other students—or even most people in general."

I frowned, unsure of what she meant.

She continued, her gaze briefly flicking to the blade in my hand. "During our sparring session, I lowered my strength to match that of an Awakened. But..." Her words trailed off, and for a brief moment, she seemed lost in thought. Her hand brushed against her temple as if warding off an unseen discomfort.

"But what?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

She hesitated, an unusual thing for her. "That sword... it's not ordinary, Samuel. When you wield it, there's something... invasive about it. I don't know if you're aware, but it doesn't just strike physically—it lingers. It's like it's trying to pull something, to touch what it shouldn't."

I stared at the sword, confusion etched across my face. "It's just a sword… isn't it?" The description I'd read replayed in my mind, cryptic and unsettling.

Take their dreams, their desires, and make them your own.

That was what it had said, but surely, that couldn't be real… right?

Her sharp gaze snapped back to me, and for a moment, I thought I saw unease flicker in her usually stoic eyes. "No. It's not. I can't explain it fully—not yet. But during our sparring, it felt as though..." She paused, rubbing her temple again. "It was probing. Not my body, but my mind. My thoughts."

The air grew heavy between us as I processed her words.

She shook her head, as if trying to dismiss the feeling. "Whatever it is, it's tied to your power, to your affinities. Most people won't be able to handle something like that, Samuel. It's not just a sword—it's a tether to something deeper, something you're barely beginning to understand."

I looked down at the sword in my hand. It felt so familiar, yet alien at the same time. I remembered the strange resonance during the sparring match, the way the blade seemed to hum in my grip, as though it were alive.

"Control it," she said, her tone firmer now. "Because if you don't, it won't just harm others—it'll harm you. Or worse."

Her words lingered, heavy and commanding, leaving no room for argument. She turned away, her black robes billowing like shadows in her wake. "Rest up. Class starts in thirty minutes, and the students will be arriving soon."

With that, she walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and a blade that suddenly felt much heavier in my hand.

My classmates began making their way toward the classroom, one by one. Their faces were set with resolve, but there was a hollowness in their expressions, as though the toll of the trial still lingered within them—much like it did in me.

I watched as my classmates crossed the bridge, one after another, their figures growing clearer as they neared. It wasn't until I spotted Noel and Natalia that a wave of relief washed over me. As they approached, I found myself moving toward them, my steps quickening. The sight of them—safe and seemingly intact—eased the tight knot that I didn't know that had formed in my chest. 

Within a moment, I was upon them. Standing at least a head taller than both, I smiled warmly and said, "I'm glad both of you are alright."

Noel seemed startled, her eyes wide as she looked up at me. "I waited..." she stammered, her voice faltering. "I waited for hours after I left the trial, hoping you'd come out."

Her words lingered, heavy with concern. It was rare to see Noel so unsettled; she seemed to always carry herself with quiet confidence.

"I didn't mean to make you worry," I replied gently, trying to ease the tension in her voice. "The trial was... longer than I expected."

She nodded slowly, her gaze searching mine as if trying to understand what I wasn't saying. "I didn't want to leave," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "But Miss Athena said I needed to rest. She promised she'd keep an eye out for you."

I felt a small pang of guilt at her words. "Noel," I said, my tone soft, "thank you. You didn't have to wait that long, but... I appreciate it."

"I just couldn't leave," she said with a weak shrug, as if brushing off her own dedication. "You were in there for so long... longer than anyone else."

Natalia came up to me with a playful grin and lightly slapped my shoulder. "I knew you'd be fine," she said, her voice brimming with confidence. She turned toward Noel, smirking. "I told you he wouldn't go down without a fight."

Noel crossed her arms, her expression a mix of relief and mild irritation. "That's easy to say now," she retorted, raising an eyebrow at Natalia. "But you didn't see how long he was in there. I was starting to think something had gone wrong."