Ranvir accepted the cloth Master Stjarna handed him and wiped down his face. The few remaining dew drops the only remnants of the latest healing. He blinked a few times wincing slightly at the bright light in the room, his eyes more sensitive after a healing.

“Your eyes aren’t degrading.” Master Stjarna’s assistant, Gudrid said. She positioned herself so she could both see the Master—more specifically his hands—and Ranvir. “We’re going to pull you in for another few examinations throughout the rest of the year, but this will likely be the future for you.”

Ranvir nodded, wiping a bit of stubborn frost stuck to his eyelash off. “And my eyes? Will they return to normal?”

There was a brief moment as Master Stjarna signed to Gudrid. “They might darken back to their natural color, but the pupil won’t likely change.”

“Right.” Ranvir cleared his throat. This break, however short it was, had been good for him. Closing his eyes, he quickly embraced the pressure letting his senses wash over him. As his tether was pushed into the back of his mind, awareness blossomed. He could vaguely sense the temperature in the room, more through a lack of energy than the presence of cold. Inside, he felt the space shift to take on a yellow tint, a little part of him more aware, on edge than before.

“Why do you do that?” Stjarna’s assistant asked. “What is the purpose?”

Ranvir stifled a yawn and shook his body. “I’m training, we’re at the academy. We’re supposed to train.”

Master Stjarna let out a grunt, something rare for the Teacher. He rarely made any noise at all. Ranvir focused his senses on the movements of his hands, sensing the sign language without understanding it.

“You were embracing the pressure when you arrived, and now again as you leave.” She paused catching up to Master’s increasingly rapid signing. “You’re training constantly. Even when I’ve seen you during weapon class. Or if I’ve come on you in the halls or during physical. Do you always exercise like this?”

Ranvir’s brows drew down in to a frown, though he didn’t look directly at the Master. He’d sensed a lot more aggression in the ice tethered’s gestures and posture than in the assistant’s words.

“I try.” Ranvir replied. “It’s good to exercise and I’m already well behind, so I need the help to catch up.”

Stjarna snorted and gestured again. “There’s only so much training you can fit in a day. Maybe for a first or second stage, that would work as all day training, but you don’t expect a baby to walk on their first day.”

A baby? Ranvir sucked his lips to his teeth as his eyes narrowed. Before he could reply, the woman continued speaking.

“When training, or doing anything, it’s important to understand where the limits lay. You’re working in excess of your limits. This is good. In short periods of time. It’s how you become strong, fast, or clever. But doing it too much. Excess work, in excess of limits. You break. Snap. Dull.”

Master Stjarna started walking, heading towards one of the cabinets lining the walls. He pulled out a ruler, about a hand’s width thick and stuck out well above his head. Holding it parallel to the ground, he lifted it up and down rapidly, the wood flexing back and forth.

Nodding with approval, the master sat back down the ruler across his lap.

“I know I have to be-“

The Master cut him off with a gesture that needed no translation, before he started signing to Gudrid.

“Every time the ruler bends your strength increases. Every time you bend it. It doesn’t matter how much you do it.”

The Master held up the ruler by the ends, slowly pulling them together the strain in the wood increasing, until Ranvir could hear the wood groan. Then he let go and the ruler returned to normal under his hands.

“The ruler can only bend so far before you need to let it rest. After long enough the wood has returned to its original shape and you can bend it again.” The Master demonstrated by once more bending the wood to the limit. “If you do not give it time to return to normal, for you to return to normal, then you will never work with your full potential.”

Ranvir let out a sigh. “I get that, but I’m not pushing it that far. This isn’t even pushing me that hard.”

Stjarna held up a finger to make Ranvir pause, before heading off to the closets. He grabbed another clearly older ruler. He didn’t bother with elaborate demonstrations. The cracked wood was plainly bowed on the sides. Even a little bending caused the wood groan and splinter.

Ranvir was silent for a long moment, Master Stjarna didn’t bother with signing, his point clear.

“I need to rest, to take breaks.”

Stjarna nodded at Ranvir’s explanation.

“I need to do something.” Ranvir complained.

“Then build your life around your training. Give yourself time to recover. Feed your body and spirit what it needs to live. Build yourself and strength will come.”

“Progress made in minutes and hours, measured in months and years.”

Master Stjarna nodded encouragingly.

Ranvir sighed, letting go of the pressure and getting to his feet. “I guess you have a point.” He felt blind, though. And that only made the yellow tint inside him worse, flecking it with orange tension. Then a smile flickered onto his face “Can I borrow one your rulers?”

Ranvir walked, ruler in hand, to the training field. He was late today, due to his meeting with Master Stjarna. It was only a few days after Master Svenar had first showed up to their training session, but his attendance had been spotty due to the demand of time from his position. Especially now that he felt comfortable letting them train Esmund in the basics.

Today Master Svenar wasn’t there. Good. Ranvir thought, stepping among them. Esmund was flinging half-heartedly contained slashes of pure shearing against the dummy, missing as much as he was hitting.

Sansir and Grev were working on the right mind state for the ritual. Sansir had found that letting out a low hum gave him something to bring his thoughts back to, avoiding the twisting paths of his mind. Grev was quietly and competently getting better and better, while acting like he was worse than the day before. Just like when Ranvir had been in his class.

Ranvir stopped next to Kirs, who was staring exasperatedly at Esmund. They shared a glance, she’d confessed to him and Svenar that she’d been having trouble getting him to be serious with their training. He was just having too much fun with his powers. Not that Ranvir could blame him.

He was sure he would go a little crazy once he broke through too. He was a space tethered though, there wasn’t a whole lot of damage he could do. Yeah, he could stretch some space, maybe narrow it. Even pinch off a bit for his own personal storage, but only if that space wasn’t part of a bigger whole. He powers literally couldn’t rip a piece of paper, whatever bound it together was simply too strong to overcome.

Warp was significantly more dangerous.

“Esmund.” Ranvir said with a smile, tapping the ruler into the sand. “I have a new training exercise for you.”

Es spun on his heels, falling into a bit of a crouch, smiling wide. “Really? What is it?”

Ranvir stuck his hand into his pocket as he went over to the crude dummy, little more than a bit of wood stuck into the sand. He pulled out a king piece from his pocket, usually stored alongside the queen in a pocket space, which technically it still was… if more mundane.

Sticking it on top of the wooden dummy, Ranvir gave Esmund a challenging stare. “Cut it in half.”

Es cocked a self assure grin. “Easy.” He smoothed his sleeves up, his hand fairly rippling with rainbow energy, ready to rip apart anything they touched.

“Go ahead.” Ranvir took a half step away, keeping his fingers around the base of the piece.

The energy faded immediately, Es stood up straight. “Ranvir?”

“Well, if I’m struggling against a flesh-torn on the front lines, I want to know that you can help me out. This is your margin for error. You just have to cut the king in half. Please do it without cutting me in half too, I just came from medical I do not want to go back.”

“I- Is this safe?”

Ranvir gave him a dead pan look. “No. But we’re going to war. Step closer if you need, we can start as close as you want.”

Relief flooded Esmund’s face, power fading as he walked over until he could basically touch the king piece. Ranvir slapped his thigh with the ruler, causing him to yell out.

“What was that?” Es’ angry voice caused the others to look over. Ranvir gave them a calming look, though it only seemed to work on the boys. Kirs only clutched her bag tighter to her chest.

“What’s the point of your Dagger, if you’re going to be close enough for me to hit you. You should have an…” He lifted the ruler, reading the two meter mark on the end of the stick. “At least eight meter lead on me.”

Esmund sighed, but began gathering power at his right hand. Ranvir hit him with the thin edge, causing him yell out and back away. When he was finally out of Ranvir’s reach. The power actually coalesced, emerging from his hand rather than gathering around it like a manipulator.

“Without cutting my hand off, if you please.” Ranvir said, squeezing down and hiding the sickly yellow nausea combining with pale violet fear.

Es took in a long breath, staring intently. Ranvir could hear him swallow despite the distance. His finger flicked. Rainbow flashed. The king’s head fell off. The back of Ranvir’s hand stung slightly.

Oh thank the Goddess. Ranvir thought, his knees going weak.

Esmund smiled nervously as he came over.

“Was that hard?” He asked his friend, looking down at his hand. A drop of scarlet was coalescing.

Esmund paled as he saw Ranvir’s hand, then slowly nodded his head. “Go back to Kirs, then.” The short tethered nodded and retreated to his girlfriend.

“See how small the king is?” Ranvir asked, as the warp tethered’s fingers intertwined with the scholar’s. “Could you have made the cut from there?” Es shook his head.

Ranvir grit his teeth and forced writhing red anger into his voice. It came easily. “So why the fuck are you acting like you can? This isn’t for fun Esmund. It’s life or death.” Hands shaking, stomach roiling and insides boiling with thick green and runny red, Ranvir strode off. Leaving behind a pale and shaken Esmund staring after him, Kirs’ hand holding him in place.