Over the next two weeks, Ezra pushed himself to the brink of exhaustion. His days blurred into an unrelenting cycle—waking before sunrise, scaling the mountain to gather fruits, descending with aching limbs, meditating until his head throbbed, dragging himself to the infirmary, then forcing himself through his classes.
Everything was progressing… except for the blockage.
No matter how hard he trained, no matter how much he focused, that invisible wall within his Aether refused to break. It gnawed at him, an unseen chain binding his power, locking something away just beyond his reach.
"You still can't break through?" his professor asked lazily, sprawled beneath a tree with a piece of candy rolling between his fingers.
"No," Ezra muttered, frustration threading through his voice. Then, quieter, he admitted, "I think… I'm scared of losing control."
For a moment, his professor just stared at him. Then he burst out laughing. A full-bodied, head-thrown-back kind of laugh, as if Ezra had just told him the funniest joke in the world.
"All this time—you've been suppressing your own Aether because you're scared of losing control?" He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Unbelievable."
Ezra scowled. "How am I supposed to figure it out?" His grip tightened on his sleeve. "What if I set the forest on fire? What if something worse happens?"
"Soren Nightingale figured it out in one week," his professor said, stretching idly. "Climbed the mountain and back down in an hour. He has the most potential out of all the students here at Blackspire."
"But I'm not him," Ezra shot back.
"Then try to be."
Ezra's jaw tightened.
His professor clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. "A measly fly like you? Please. You wouldn't do much damage." He smirked, lacing his fingers behind his head as he lounged. "And besides—" his emerald-green eyes gleamed with mischief— "you have me."
Ezra didn't relax, but his professor's smirk faded slightly as he leaned forward, his tone shifting into something more serious.
"Listen. Aether is the raw, universal energy that flows through everything—it's the foundation of the world itself. But Resonance? That's personal. It's unique to you. It's the filter through which you shape and direct Aether, molding it into something that reflects your essence, your archetype."
He flicked a finger, and the faintest ripple of energy shimmered in the air before vanishing. "No Aether? No Resonance. It's that simple."
Ezra frowned, mulling over his words.
"There's a balance between the two," his professor continued, his gaze sharpening. "A vital one. If you try to force Resonance with an empty Aether pool, you get nothing. If you push too hard, you shatter your Soul Core—and that's not something you recover from easily. Over-draining can sever your connection to Resonance entirely. Temporarily if you're lucky. Permanently if you're not."
His expression turned unreadable. "And when that happens… you're just another powerless corpse waiting to fall."
Ezra swallowed hard, his fingers twitching slightly.
Then, just as quickly as the heavy atmosphere settled, his professor smirked again, flicking a pebble toward Ezra's head.
"So," he drawled, "are you still scared? Or do you wanna stop whining and actually learn how to use what you've got?"