Finally, Kalen disengaged, lowering his own practice sword. Ash leaned heavily on his, trying to catch his breath.
"Still nothing?" Kalen asked.
Ash shook his head, disappointment mixing with exhaustion. "Just... tired."
"Physical stress isn't enough, then," Kalen concluded. "It needs the emotional component. The protective rage."
He walked toward the training dummy, then turned back to Ash, his expression hardening.
"Forget defending. Attack me."
"What?" Ash stared at him, confused.
"You heard me. Attack me. Try to strike me down."
"I can't," Ash protested. "You saved my life. You're my mentor."
"And right now, I am your enemy," Kalen insisted, raising his practice sword into a defensive stance. "Imagine I am Varius. Imagine I am the soldier who killed your family. Imagine I am the threat you need to overcome to protect those you care about."
Ash hesitated, the wooden sword feeling heavy and unfamiliar in his hand. Attacking Kalen felt fundamentally wrong, a betrayal of the trust that had developed between them.
"Do it!" Kalen roared, his voice suddenly harsh, commanding the voice of a seasoned officer, not the quiet recluse Ash had come to know. "Or are you too weak? Too afraid? Was your father weak too, when Varius cut him down?"
The words struck Ash like a physical blow, igniting a spark of anger deep within him. He gripped the practice sword tighter, raising it uncertainly.
"That's it," Kalen taunted, circling him slowly. "Find the anger. Use it. Show me the strength that kept you alive when everyone else died."
Ash lunged forward, his attack clumsy, fueled by confused emotion rather than skill. Kalen parried easily, knocking the wooden sword from Ash's grasp.
"Pathetic," Kalen sneered. "Is that the best the Valerian line can produce? No wonder Varius thought you weren't worth killing properly."
Something snapped inside Ash. The calculated cruelty of Kalen's words, combined with the memory of his family's slaughter and the injustice of their fate, coalesced into a surge of pure, untamed rage.
It wasn't just anger at Kalen's taunts, but at Varius, at the coup, at his own helplessness.
He launched himself at Kalen unarmed, driven by instinct rather than thought. Kalen sidestepped his charge, tripping him easily. Ash fell hard onto the packed earth of the clearing.
"Still weak," Kalen commented, standing over him. "Still unable to protect anyone, least of all yourself."
Lying there, defeated and humiliated, Ash felt the familiar warmth bloom in his chest hotter this time, more intense. The sword fragment pulsed violently, responding to the potent cocktail of rage, grief, and desperation.
Rage aspect detected. Manifestation threshold reached.
A broken shard of crimson light erupted into existence in Ash's hand as he pushed himself up from the ground. It felt different from the blue fragment hotter, sharper, radiating an energy that demanded release.
Kalen stepped back, his expression shifting from calculated cruelty to wary assessment.
"There it is. The red fragment. Protective rage."
Ash barely heard him. The rage consumed his awareness, focusing his entire being on the perceived threat before him... Kalen, the embodiment of his pain and loss in that moment.
He lunged again, the red shard leading the way. Kalen didn't try to parry this time but dodged backward, giving ground before the unexpected assault.
"Control it, Ash!" Kalen commanded, his voice sharp with urgency. "Don't let the rage consume you. Direct it!"
The command pierced through the red haze clouding Ash's mind. Control. He needed control, not blind fury. He forced himself to halt his pursuit of Kalen, turning instead toward the training dummy.
With a guttural cry that tore from his throat a sound combining weeks of suppressed grief and anger Ash struck the wooden post with the crimson fragment.
The impact was explosive. The fragment shattered against the wood, releasing its stored energy in a burst of red light and force that splintered the top half of the dummy, sending pieces flying across the clearing.
Silence descended, broken only by Ash's ragged breathing. He stood staring at his empty hand, the red light fading rapidly, leaving only faint afterimages dancing before his eyes.
Then the backlash hit. Excruciating pain flared from the sword fragment in his chest, radiating outward through his entire body. His legs buckled, and he collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath as waves of nausea washed over him.
Kalen was beside him instantly, supporting him before he could fall completely. "Easy, lad. Breathe through it. That's the price of using the fragment it draws on your own life force."
Ash leaned heavily against the older man, waiting for the agony to subside. It felt as though every nerve ending was on fire, his muscles spasming uncontrollably. The brief moment of power had come at a steep cost.
"Did you see?" he managed between gasps. "The dummy..."
"I saw," Kalen confirmed, his voice regaining its usual gruffness, the earlier cruelty gone as if it had never been. "Impressive power. Destructive. Uncontrolled."
"It felt... different," Ash said as the pain began to recede, leaving him weak and trembling.
"The blue fragment felt defensive. This one... wanted to destroy."
"Rage often does," Kalen observed. He helped Ash to his feet, supporting him as they walked slowly back toward the cabin. "Two manifestations, two different colors, two different emotional triggers. Blue for focused defense, red for protective rage."
"So the System responds to my emotions?" Ash asked, trying to process the implications.
"Seems likely," Kalen agreed. "Which means controlling your emotions is key to controlling the power. A difficult task, especially given... everything."
Back inside the cabin, Kalen helped Ash onto the bed and brought him water mixed with some of Lydia's tonic.
"Rest now," he instructed. "You pushed yourself hard. Your body needs to recover from the System activation."
Ash lay back, exhaustion settling deep into his bones. The training had been brutal, Kalen's methods harsh, but it had yielded results. He had consciously accessed the fragment's power for the first time, albeit through extreme emotional manipulation.
He looked at Kalen, who was cleaning the practice swords with methodical care. "What you said out there... about my father, my family..."
Kalen paused, not meeting his eyes. "Necessary cruelty, lad. Had to push you past your limits, find the trigger for the rage aspect. Wasn't personal."
"I know," Ash said quietly. "But it worked."
"It did," Kalen acknowledged. "But relying on uncontrolled rage is dangerous. We need to find ways to access the power with more focus, less emotional cost."
Ash closed his eyes, replaying the feeling of the red fragment in his hand the heat, the power, the overwhelming urge to strike. It had been intoxicating and terrifying in equal measure.
He thought of the blue fragment he had summoned in the questioning room cooler, more focused, appearing when he consciously reached for a defensive measure. Perhaps control was possible, with practice and understanding.
In his mind's eye, the constellation of broken sword fragments appeared again. Two pieces now seemed slightly brighter than the others one blue, one red. The rest remained dim, their potential unknown.
Survival aspect stabilized. Rage aspect accessed. System adaptation progressing.
The soundless words offered confirmation but little explanation. Ash realized he was only beginning to scratch the surface of what had awakened within him.
"Tomorrow," Kalen said, interrupting his thoughts, "we work on control. And endurance. Using the fragment takes a toll you need to build resilience to handle the backlash."
Ash nodded, too tired to respond verbally. The path ahead seemed daunting mastering his emotions, controlling an unpredictable power, evading imperial hunters, all while forging a new identity in a world that believed him dead.
Yet, for the first time since the night of the coup, a flicker of something other than fear or grief stirred within him. A sense of purpose, perhaps. A reason for his survival.
The fragment in his chest pulsed gently, a steady warmth against his heart.
The awakening had begun.