The days following our decision to train the village passed in a blur of sweat, exhaustion, and relentless determination. The air was thick with tension, a silent understanding that time was running out.
We weren't warriors. Not yet.
But every day, we grew stronger.
Every morning, the villagers gathered in the clearing, their bodies aching from the previous day's drills. My father led them in combat training, drilling them in the basics of survival—how to strike, how to defend, how to stay alive when faced with something that should not exist.
I, on the other hand, focused on those who showed potential for mana control.
The Awakening of Mana
It was a slow process.
Most of them had never felt mana before, their bodies unfamiliar with the energy that surrounded them. But I had spent weeks refining my control, and I had learned one crucial thing: mana was a river, not a fire.
Forcing it did nothing.
But guiding it?
That was where the magic began.
"Elara," I called, motioning for the healer's daughter to step forward. She had been one of the first to feel mana, her natural connection to the world making her a fast learner.
She approached hesitantly, her hands clasped together.
"Close your eyes," I instructed. "Breathe. Feel the mana in the air. Don't try to pull it in—just listen."
She did as I asked. A long moment passed.
Then—a flicker.
A faint glow shimmered around her fingertips, soft and warm, like a flame waiting to be kindled.
Her eyes snapped open, wide with shock. "I did it."
I smiled. "Good. Now control it."
She swallowed, nodding, her hands trembling as she tried to hold onto the energy.
This was the beginning.
Not just for her. For all of us.
An Ominous Sign
That night, as I lay on my cot, staring up at the wooden beams of our home, I felt it.
A shift.
A presence at the edge of my awareness, like a distant echo.
I sat up, scanning the room. My father was asleep by the fire, his hunting knife within arm's reach. Everything looked normal.
But it wasn't.
I stood, quietly making my way outside. The village was still, the only sounds coming from the rustling leaves and the occasional crackling torch.
Yet the unease didn't fade.
I knew something was wrong.
Then, I saw it.
At the farthest edge of the village, just beyond the barricades, a single shape stood motionless.
Watching.
The Silent Stalker
My breath caught.
It wasn't human.
It wasn't an animal.
It was something else.
The Aberration stood tall, its body twisted and unnatural, glowing veins pulsing beneath its skin. But unlike the creatures we had fought before, this one wasn't attacking.
It was… waiting.
Why?
My fingers twitched toward the dagger at my side, mana pulsing faintly at my fingertips.
I could kill it.
I could end it right now before it had the chance to strike.
But deep down, I knew that wasn't why it was here.
It was testing us.
And the moment I moved, the moment I took a step forward—
It disappeared.
Vanished into the trees, as if it had never been there at all.
The Warning
I stood frozen, my heart hammering against my ribs.
This was different.
The Aberrations we had fought before were mindless, attacking without thought or hesitation. But this one… this one had chosen not to fight.
It had let me see it.
It had wanted me to see it.
I turned and ran, my legs carrying me back to my home, back to where my father slept by the fire.
"Father." My voice was sharper than I intended, but I didn't care.
He stirred immediately, eyes snapping open. "What is it?"
I hesitated only for a second before speaking. "I saw one."
The sleep faded from his face in an instant. He sat up, his jaw tightening. "Where?"
I exhaled. "At the barricades. But it didn't attack. It just… watched me."
My father didn't respond right away. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers gripping the back of his neck. "Then they're smarter than we thought."
I frowned. "What does that mean?"
He looked at me, his expression unreadable. "It means they're not just hunting. They're planning."
The Calm Before the Storm
The next morning, I called a meeting.
The village gathered near the training grounds, tension thick in the air. I could see the exhaustion in their faces, the fear hidden behind their determination.
But they needed to know.
I stepped forward. "Last night, I saw something at the barricades."
Silence.
I continued, my voice steady. "It wasn't like the ones we fought before. It didn't attack. It just… watched."
The murmurs started immediately, some villagers shifting uneasily.
Elder Haldir stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "What are you saying, Sylas?"
I met his gaze. "I'm saying they're waiting for something. They're not just mindless beasts. They're watching us. Testing us."
A beat of silence.
Then, Ronan scoffed. "So what? They're cowards?"
My father spoke before I could. "No," he said simply. "They're preparing."
That shut everyone up.
The tension in the air grew heavier. The implications were clear.
We weren't just preparing for an attack.
We were preparing for a war.
A Choice to Make
The training continued that day, but there was a different energy among the villagers.
A quiet understanding.
Some of them wouldn't make it.
And yet, not one person stepped away.
I trained harder than before, my movements sharper, my mana control more refined. I couldn't afford to be weak.
Because soon, the real battle would begin.
And this time…
The Aberrations wouldn't be testing us.
They would be coming to kill.