Aeron's breath was ragged, his body trembling from exhaustion. His mind still reeled from what had just happened. The Rune of Stability—it had not simply been inscribed. It had fought back. And even though he had managed to control it for a moment, the experience had left him drained beyond belief.
Yet Segirus was unmoved. His piercing gaze locked onto Aeron like a hunter watching wounded prey.
"Again," Segirus commanded.
Aeron blinked, his vision blurring from fatigue. "I… just activated it. I controlled it."
"You barely survived it," Segirus corrected. His voice carried no cruelty, only fact. "You think learning one rune means you understand it? That you have mastered it?" He stepped forward, the weight of his presence pressing against Aeron like an unseen force. "No, boy. That was a lesson, not an achievement. If you cannot use it without resistance, then you do not own it."
Aeron clenched his fists. His body screamed at him to stop, to rest—but he knew the truth. There was no stopping. Segirus wasn't teaching him how to read runes. He was forcing him to carve them into his very being.
So, through sheer will, Aeron forced himself to his feet. His legs shook. His arms felt like lead. Every breath burned.
But still—he stepped forward.
And Segirus smiled.
"Good," he murmured. "Then inscribe it again."
Aeron turned back to the stone tablet. His fingers trembled as he picked up the engraving tool once more. The rune he had just carved had been shattered by Segirus moments ago. He had to start over.
This time, he knew what to expect.
And yet—
The moment his hand touched the stone, the world resisted him again.
Carving Against the Will of the World
It was like pushing against an invisible force. The air around him thickened. The moment the tool met the surface, the entire world pushed back.
Aeron gritted his teeth. He dragged the engraving tool forward, trying to carve the first stroke of the rune. It should have been simple. It was just a single curved line.
But it wasn't just a line. It was Stability itself.
And Stability did not want to change.
The pressure intensified, his fingers locking up as if unseen hands were trying to stop him. Sweat dripped down his forehead. His arms burned with exertion.
It was as if the world itself was defying his will.
He pushed harder.
The tool in his grip trembled, the resistance growing stronger. The harder he tried to carve, the more the world fought back.
A sharp pain shot through his wrist. His vision blurred.
And then—
Snap.
The engraving tool broke in half.
Aeron gasped as the force rebounded through his body, sending him staggering backward. A sudden, crushing pressure slammed into his chest, knocking him off his feet. He hit the ground hard, the breath torn from his lungs.
He barely had time to recover before the backlash hit him again.
The rune, incomplete and unstable, reacted violently.
The ground beneath him fractured, sending cracks rippling across the chamber floor. The torches flickered wildly, their flames twisting unnaturally. The air itself seemed to ripple, as if reality was being warped.
His body locked up. His muscles froze in place.
It was happening again.
He was being trapped.
His breath caught in his throat. He couldn't move.
The rune's power was consuming him, turning against him like a living thing, forcing his own existence into stillness.
His heartbeat slowed.
His mind screamed—Move. MOVE!
But he couldn't.
His thoughts began to blur.
His vision darkened.
Then—a hand grabbed his shoulder.
A pulse of energy shattered the rune's hold in an instant.
Aeron gasped as the pressure vanished, his body collapsing to the floor in a heap. He coughed violently, his lungs burning as air rushed back into them.
Segirus stood over him, his expression unreadable.
"You failed," he said simply.
Aeron clenched his fists against the stone floor. His arms still felt like they didn't belong to him. His legs twitched from the aftershocks of the rune's backlash. His entire body had locked up—as if for that brief moment, he had ceased to exist as a moving thing.
He hated it.
"Again," Segirus said.
Aeron wanted to scream. His muscles were shaking. His mind felt like it was breaking apart. How many times would he have to do this?
But deep inside—he already knew the answer.
Until he got it right.
So, with a groan of pain, he pushed himself back up.
And tried again.
Understanding the Law
The second attempt failed.
The third.
The fourth ended in another backlash that nearly crushed his ribs.
He tried to force the rune into existence. It fought back. He tried to rush it. It rejected him.
Each failure left his body weaker. His mind more drained.
Yet each failure also left behind something else—understanding.
The world wasn't resisting him out of spite. The rune wasn't fighting him because it hated him.
It was a law.
A law that had existed long before him.
And laws did not obey force.
They obeyed understanding.
Aeron took a slow breath.
This time, he did not push against the rune's resistance. He did not fight the world.
He simply guided it.
His mind latched onto a singular thought: Stability does not mean stillness.
It meant balance.
The world did not want to stop—but it wanted order. A place for everything. A foundation.
Aeron focused. His mind adjusted. Instead of forcing the rune into existence—
He wove it into the world.
His engraving tool glided smoothly.
The world did not resist.
It accepted.
And as the last stroke of the rune was carved—
The air itself became still.
Everything in the chamber halted. The torches froze, their flames unmoving. The dust in the air stopped mid-motion.
Even Segirus, who had been watching, seemed momentarily affected.
Aeron felt the weight of the rune settle around him.
But this time—he was in control.
He exhaled, sweat dripping down his face. His muscles ached. His mind burned.
But he had done it.
Segirus studied him for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.
"Better."
Aeron nearly collapsed.
A New Path Forward
"You forced the world to obey you," Segirus said, crossing his arms. "It resisted, so it fought back. But when you understood the law behind it—when you shaped the rune properly—it accepted you."
Aeron sat on the floor, panting. "So… that's what it means to inscribe a rune?"
Segirus smirked. "That was the first step."
Aeron stared at him, his mind still spinning.
The first step?
Then what the hell were the next ones?
Segirus turned away. "Rest," he said. "Tomorrow, you will carve it into something living."
Aeron felt his stomach drop.
He had barely survived Stability on stone.
And now—
He was going to inscribe it on flesh?