The moment Kael uttered the name, the Forgotten Vale shuddered.
It was as if the very fabric of reality recognized the words not as something new, but as something long forgotten, now reclaimed.
A pulse of unseen force rippled outward, bending the air, sending tremors through the earth. The trees whispered, their leaves rustling without wind. Even the sky seemed to darken, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Sylara's emerald eyes gleamed. "So, you have found it."
Kael staggered, clutching his chest. His power his true power no longer pulsed wildly beneath his skin. It had form now. It had direction.
And it had a name.
The Meaning of a Name
Sylara circled him slowly, her dark blue scales shimmering under the moonlight. "A name is more than a word, Kael. It is a claim. A declaration of what you are."
Kael's breath was steady now, the weight of his power settling within him like a second heartbeat. "Then why did I have to find it myself?"
Sylara let out a low, rumbling chuckle. "Because no one can name you but yourself. Power that is given can be taken away. But power that is claimed? That is absolute."
Kael looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. Before, his strength had felt like something separate from him, a storm raging just beyond his grasp. But now… it was him.
He clenched his fists, and the very air around him answered. A faint, crackling distortion rippled outward, bending the space around his fingers before vanishing.
Not wild.
Not uncontrollable.
His.
Sylara watched with satisfaction. "Now, we begin the true training."
Kael frowned. "I thought this was the training."
Sylara bared her fangs in amusement. "No, little one. This was merely opening the door. Now, we step through it."
The Trial of Endurance
The next morning, the real test began.
Kael's body had adapted to the wild, hardened by years of survival in the Forgotten Vale. But raw strength was not enough not if he wished to stand against the world that had abandoned him.
And so, Sylara pushed him beyond his limits.
She drove him up the steepest cliffs, where the air was thin and his muscles screamed for relief. She forced him to run through the densest parts of the forest, dodging razor-sharp branches and leaping over treacherous roots.
She sent him against the beasts of the vale massive creatures with fangs like daggers and claws like swords forcing him to dodge, endure, and counter without relying on brute force alone.
Through it all, Kael did not use his newly awakened power.
Not yet.
Master your body before you master your strength.
By the third day, his vision blurred from exhaustion, his legs felt like lead, and every muscle in his body screamed for rest.
But he did not stop.
He could not stop.
Because the world had already abandoned him once. He would not let it break him again.
The Unleashing
On the seventh day, Sylara finally relented.
She led him to a river's edge, where the water flowed swiftly over smooth black stones. "You have endured," she said, her voice softer now. "Now… let us see what you have truly become."
She attacked without warning.
Her massive claws raked toward him with blinding speed, the wind howling as they tore through the air.
But Kael did not flinch.
His power surged not wild and desperate like before, but precise. Controlled.
He stepped forward, and with the barest motion of his hand, the air around him shifted.
Sylara's claws stopped inches from his face.
Not because she had pulled back.
But because Kael had willed the space between them to deny her.
For the first time, Sylara's emerald eyes widened. Not with shock. Not with fear.
With pride.
Kael exhaled slowly. The world was no longer against him.
It was no longer something he had to fight to control.
It was his to command.