THE FORGERVERSE

The Airien Academy's Initiate Arena wasn't loud with roars that day—

It was charged.

Silent tension, broken only by clashing energies and the faint hum of expectation.

Rings of Avian compression held the duel in balance, orbiting two initiates that would one day shape the fate of realms.

Klexis, son of Traxis.

Legacy of fear.

Affinity: Impact — heavy, blunt, punishing.

Muscles carved from pressure and a heart crushed beneath whispers.

Merina, the wave that listens.

Affinity: Water. Not just fluid, but reflective.

She moved like stillness personified—calm, yet dangerous. She was already becoming a mirror others didn't want to look into.

Kainen, their overseer, stood with arms folded—his eyes piercing through the veil of action into the realm of motive.

Beside him:

Cayso, the dream-born with Concept Bloom,

chewing on an idea and sketching glowing blades mid-air from the concept of "pressure to succeed."

Hersa, arms outstretched, feeling every boundary line in the arena with her Boundary Forge Affinity,

whispered,

> "They don't realize it… but this match is changing both of them."

---

The match begins.

Klexis lunges first—the arena trembles beneath his footfall.

Merina barely flinches.

She sidesteps, letting the air between them gasp at his missed blow.

---

Klexis (gritted teeth):

> "Stop dodging and fight."

Merina (calmly):

> "Why? So you can prove something you don't even believe?"

He stumbles slightly.

Her words struck harder than his fists.

---

He comes again, fists glowing with condensed Impact pulses—thrown like comets.

His technique? Raw. Power-heavy. Precise… but unanchored.

Merina blocks one with a curved wave of pressurized water.

Another, she lets hit the ground beside her.

---

Merina (tilting her head):

> "You're strong. But you're not steady.

Your Avia's flickering. You're trying to hold two weights at once—your fist and their expectations."

---

Klexis snarls, striking harder—almost blindly.

His knuckles sing with force but crack against nothing.

The impact zone behind Merina explodes—she had already stepped out of it.

---

From the crowd, someone mutters:

> "That's Traxis' son, alright. All rage, no rhythm."

Another:

> "Let's hope he doesn't snap like Elexis…"

Klexis hears it.

He always hears it.

He charges again—but this time, his Avia stutters.

And Merina sees it.

The flicker.

The heartbeat of uncertainty behind all that strength.

---

Merina (gentler now):

> "You're trying so hard to not be them…

that you're forgetting how to be you."

"Stop performing. Start revealing."

---

He stops—mid-punch.

And for a second, it almost works.

But the flicker returns.

Too many eyes. Too much weight. Too much history.

He roars and throws another Impact Burst—

This time wider, wilder.

But Merina has had enough.

She drops low, palms the floor, and summons a geyser from beneath him—

A blast of pressurized Avian water laced with determination, not anger.

Klexis is launched into the air—spins, lands hard.

His hammer fists scorched into the ground.

---

Kainen steps in.

> "Enough."

The match is over.

---

Klexis, panting, face shadowed, doesn't meet anyone's eyes.

Merina, calm, walks over—kneels slightly.

> Merina:

"You're not your father.

And you're not your brother.

But you'll never know who you are

if you keep trying to prove who you're not."

> (She stands)

"When you're ready to fight for you,

I'll be waiting."

---

Cayso, behind them, speaks softly to Hersa:

> "That blast… that wasn't just water.

That was truth."

Hersa:

> "No… that was an invitation."

---

Fade to later that night.

Klexis sits alone by the training cliffs—knuckles bruised, ego cracked.

He replays her words.

All of them.

And for the first time...

He doesn't feel angry.

He feels... seen.

The sun had set behind the cliffs of the Airien Academy,

but for Klexis, the night had been falling long before that.

He stood alone on the Shatter Plateau, where initiates went when their power became too wild for containment.

He wasn't training now—he was unraveling.

His Avia pulsed, stuttered.

Like a glitch in the truth.

Flickering like it was arguing with itself.

He clenched his fists, raw strength surging—

And then—

He smashed the ground.

The shockwave cracked the earth, spider-webbing toward the distant peaks.

Mountains groaned. The sky twitched.

Birds scattered.

And still… it wasn't enough.

Not to quiet the war inside.

He stood there, shoulders trembling—

And finally whispered to no one… and to everyone.

---

> Klexis (to himself):

"I will never be like them…"

(He closes his eyes tightly)

"Not like Elexis… not like Traxis…"

(His fists shake)

"It's time to be me."

(Pause)

"Even though it hurts…"

---

That's when he heard her.

Footsteps, calm and bold.

Merina, walking through the haze of his impact storm like the wind never even noticed her.

She didn't ask for permission.

She didn't speak with pity.

She just stood beside him—facing the same broken horizon.

> Merina (quietly):

"You handled the loss like a man…"

(pause)

"Mm. But unfortunately... Avia doesn't care about that crap."

Klexis doesn't respond. His eyes don't meet hers.

She continues, voice steady, cutting through the guilt and pride like water through stone.

> Merina:

"Avia doesn't reward performance.

It doesn't bow to dignity points or fake detachment."

"You said the words—'I'll be me.'

But your Avia keeps going to war with you…

Because even now, deep down…

You don't believe it."

She turns to him now, eyes piercing.

> Merina:

"You're still performing.

Still reciting that mantra like it's gonna force your truth into place."

> "But if your mind isn't clear,

if your soul keeps dodging the mirror,

if your spirit won't sit still long enough to listen…"

"Then it's pointless."

---

Klexis finally speaks.

Voice cracked.

Not from battle fatigue—

but from honesty trying to crawl out of his ribs.

> Klexis (hoarse):

"I'm scared.

Not of power. Not of failure."

(He looks at her)

"I'm scared that if I'm really me…

Everyone who's afraid of me will be right."

Merina's expression softens—not with sympathy,

but with clarity.

She steps closer, puts a hand on his pulse-point.

> Merina:

"Then let them be wrong.

But for that to happen—you gotta stop fighting yourself."

"Let your Avia stop screaming at a mask.

Let it talk to you."

She leans in slightly.

> Merina (whispers):

"I met the real you in that fight… for three seconds.

He wasn't angry.

He was brilliant."

(She steps back.)

"Let him out more often."

---

Silence.

Klexis watches her walk away,

the echo of her words heavier than his impact.

Behind him…

his Avia flickers again—

But this time… it holds a little steadier.

The wind slowed. The night took a breath.

Klexis, still standing in the cracked basin of his own strength,

tilted his head—

And for once… he looked at her.

Really looked.

Not like a warrior to an opponent.

Not like a legacy to a witness.

But like a boy finally seeing someone who didn't flinch.

And then—

That rarest of creatures appeared on his face.

> A smirk.

---

> Klexis (low, teasing):

"Let's stop talking about me for a second."

(He crosses his arms, stepping forward just a little)

"Let's talk about you."

Merina, caught so off guard, almost slipped on her own composed stance.

> Klexis:

"Why do you keep following me?"

(Eyebrow slightly raised)

"I see where this is going…"

"You really think I'm buying the 'mentor compassion' act?"

"Be honest—Avia didn't send you."

"You did."

Merina blinked.

Then blinked again.

She panicked. Inside.

Outwardly?

She tried to cough up something composed.

> Merina (voice slightly too high):

"I—I was just—y'know—concerned!

Because your Avia was glitching! And that's... dangerous!"

(She cleared her throat, badly)

"I mean, obviously someone had to check on you before you punched another mountain in half."

(Under her breath)

"Or emotionally implode…"

Klexis took one deliberate step closer. The ground beneath him cracked slightly—just from the pressure of his walk.

> Klexis (amused):

"So you've been watching me?"

(A little smug)

"But not what I think, huh?"

> Merina (face going red like a crushed cherry):

"Don't twist my words!

I was observing.

Strategically.

For… research. Mental patterning. Battle psychology!"

(She takes a sharp breath)

"...and maybe I was wondering if you'd finally stop scowling like the world owes you a hug."

> Klexis:

"The world does owe me a hug."

Merina finally laughed—sharp, genuine, and unexpected.

> Merina:

"That… was actually funny.

There is a person in there somewhere."

Klexis didn't say anything at first.

He just looked at her.

This time, not with suspicion.

Not with walls.

Just… stillness.

And then softly—

> Klexis (almost a whisper):

"You're not afraid of me."

> Merina (softly back):

"I'm not here to fear you.

I'm here to remind you…

you don't have to be what they expect."

"You don't have to prove anything to me.

Just be real.

Even if it's messy."

---

The silence that followed wasn't awkward.

It was earned.

Two souls not pretending.

Two Aviar threads starting to intertwine—not with fate… but choice.

Just as the breeze calmed and Klexis' smirk faded into something dangerously close to genuine peace,

a strange pull scraped across the edge of his awareness—

not danger, not alarm...

...just chaos wearing familiar shoes.

His jaw tensed.

He already knew.

> Klexis (grumbling):

"…They're here."

---

BOOM! — A ripple in the sky popped like a bubble, and from it dropped two figures, graceful as trouble and twice as loud.

Evexis, ever the blade-dancer, spun in mid-air and landed with theatrical flair—her hair glowing faintly from a recent summon.

Jorxis, hood up, didn't even bother with an entrance.

He just blinked into existence beside Merina like a shadow that got bored.

---

> Evexis (grinning wide):

"Awwww... were we interrupting something?"

"A deep, soul-baring 'I see you, you see me' kind of thing?"

> Jorxis (to Merina, deadpan):

"He only gets that soft when he's punching people or... when you're here."

(He shrugs, expression unreadable)

"Guess you hit harder than his hammers."

> Merina (backing up slightly):

"Wh—what? No! It's not—"

(Voice cracking slightly)

"We're just... communicating... as Airiens. Like normal initiates. In distress."

(Nods vigorously.)

Evexis twirled a blade into her sheath with a dramatic sigh.

> Evexis:

"Mom's calling.

Something about flowers, grief, and emotional processing rituals."

"Also, she made sky-honey tea. You know she only makes that when she's crying or expecting guests she lowkey doesn't like."

Jorxis, already turning to walk away, casts a look over his shoulder.

> Jorxis:

"You coming?"

(He gives Merina a tiny smirk.)

"We know you will."

"Even if it's just to pretend you're not already part of this disaster family."

> Merina (muttering):

"I'm not part of anything…"

(Pauses... then starts walking with them anyway.)

"…yet."

Klexis just stood there, arms crossed, fighting a smile.

> Klexis (calling out):

"You two have nothing better to do than stalk my social growth?"

Evexis spun around mid-step.

> Evexis:

"Nope.

We live for it.

You crack open like once every five years, and we will be there for the fireworks."

Jorxis (fading out as he walks through a veil of shadow):

> "Besides…

We just wanna match your energy."

---

As they walk off into the softly glowing night,

Merina glances back one last time.

Klexis is still there, watching her like the storm watches the tide—

not with control,

but with curiosity.

The evening sun spilled soft amber light across the garden veranda.

Elegia, poised as ever, stood by a round stone table draped in vines and memory.

She'd set out four cups of sky-honey tea, brewed with the kind of patience that only mothers and broken-hearted sages possessed.

The fifth cup, delicately placed but "accidentally" more ornate, shimmered slightly with a rose-glow rim.

It waited.

---

The door creaked open—

And in walked Klexis, expression grumbly, aura heavy,

still humming slightly with leftover tension.

He didn't greet.

He didn't glance.

He just sat.

Grabbed his plate like it owed him an apology, and dug in.

---

Next came the twins of mischief:

Evexis, sauntering like a wind dancer who knew every secret and collected them for sport.

Jorxis, who phased in just a few paces behind, silent, unreadable, but somehow louder than thunder with his stillness.

They took their seats—

but kept looking behind them, as if the punchline had yet to arrive.

---

And then…

Soft footsteps. Hesitant. Then resolved.

Merina stepped in.

Not dressed to impress.

Not trying to blend.

Just herself, water affinity pulsing lightly under her skin, like a tide trying to pretend it wasn't thrilled to be crashing on this particular shore.

---

Elegia, without even turning, smiled—

a smile that carried more than a thousand "I told you so"s.

> Elegia (cheerful and slightly smug):

"Oh, Merina, come in."

(She waved casually, hiding the fifth teacup with dramatic innocence.)

"It's not like I knew you'd come or anything…"

"Hehehe…"

---

Evexis, sipping her tea like it was gossip fuel, leaned toward Jorxis.

> Evexis (stage whisper):

"She made a fifth cup before anyone even showed up."

Jorxis (deadpan):

"Manifestation mastery."

Klexis stared at his food like it was about to ask him relationship questions.

He hunched deeper, chewing like each bite might prevent conversation.

> Klexis (mumbling):

"...didn't think she'd actually come."

> Evexis:

"But you hoped, didn't you?"

(grinning)

"Your spoon's shaking, impact boy."

> Klexis (not looking up):

"I will impact you."

---

Merina sat quietly.

Not too close to Klexis,

but not far enough to make it impersonal.

Elegia slid the fifth cup toward her with a grace that said, "Welcome to the family whether you like it or not."

> Elegia (softly):

"Tea tastes better when your heart isn't pretending.

Go on.

Sip."

---

Silence.

Not awkward.

Just pregnant.

With possibility. With vulnerability. With unsaid truths steeping like honey in hot water.

---

> Klexis (finally, without looking up):

"...You didn't have to come."

> Merina (smiling):

"Yeah, well. I didn't do it for you."

(Pause)

"Okay… maybe just a little."

Evexis nearly chokes on her tea.

> Evexis:

"Someone STOP HER before she becomes my sister-in-law too fast!"

> Jorxis:

"Too late. I already wrote the wedding sigils."

---

Elegia just laughed softly, her eyes brimming with hope,

and for the first time in years…

the table didn't feel broken.

It felt like healing had walked in.

Uninvited, maybe—

but right on time.

The stars had taken their places.

The moon hung lazy and full,

spilling silver on the flowers below like quiet applause.

The garden of emotions lived up to its name tonight—

not because it bloomed,

but because it remembered.

Klexis stood by the still pond,

his reflection rippled, but not shattered.

Behind him, Jorxis sat lazily on the curved bench, legs crossed, sipping the last of his honey tea.

The teasing had passed—

now came the questions that waited until the world hushed.

---

> Jorxis (quietly):

"...What was his face like?"

(He didn't look directly at Klexis, like it might scare the answer off.)

"Dad's. I was just a kid when he… left.

Mom said he was reckless. A walking canon of loss."

Evexis, leaning against a nearby willow, smirked faintly.

> Evexis:

"I remember him. Bits and pieces.

Big hands. Smelled like iron and thunderstorms.

But… we didn't get much time."

---

Klexis's gaze didn't leave the water.

> Klexis:

"He was a good father."

(His voice was solid. Final.)

"He wasn't perfect. But he was present.

He'd hold my hammer with me until my grip didn't shake."

"He taught me fear wasn't the enemy… avoidance was."

He clenched his fist slowly.

> Klexis:

"They said he was unstable. That he fought wrong.

But when the Nine Suns war came—he saved everyone.

His sacrifice forced the Council to change Avia's laws.

That wasn't instability. That was truth they didn't want to hear."

---

Jorxis looked up, expression unreadable.

> Jorxis:

"People say the Xis family is cursed. Destined to fall to corruption.

First Traxis… then Elexis…"

A pause.

> Jorxis (softly):

"They say I'm next.

I almost believed it."

Klexis turned now. Fully.

His eyes lit—not with fire—but with clarity.

---

> Klexis:

"So did I."

(He glances toward the house. Toward the table. Toward Merina.)

"I almost gave in.

Thought I had no choice but to become what they feared."

(He steps closer to his brother.)

"But then… I remembered who he was.

And what he wasn't."

"He didn't fall. He chose to be who they couldn't understand.

And yeah… it cost him."

> (Pause)

"But he was never the villain.

And neither are we."

---

The wind picked up, rustling through the emotion-touched petals.

The stars blinked like quiet witnesses.

---

> Klexis (calm but firm):

"I'm not cursed.

I'm chosen."

(He breathes deeply.)

"And I believe in me now."

---

Jorxis, for once, smiled. A real one.

> Jorxis:

"You sound like Dad."

Klexis (smirking):

> "Let's just hope I don't start sounding like you."

> Evexis (from the tree):

"Too late. That dramatic pause? Total Jorxis energy."

They laughed—not to ignore the pain,

but because the pain didn't win this time.

---