The week before the Awakening Ceremony, Lucian stopped the physical training.
No more push-ups at dawn. No more sprints until collapse. No more kicks against trees until his shins bruised. Finn woke on the twenty-second day to find Lucian sitting by the window, watching the sunrise, with a cup of tea that hadn't been there a moment ago.
"Sit," Lucian said.
Finn sat.
"Today, we work on presence."
Finn blinked. "Presence?"
"How you stand. How you walk. How you hold your silence." Lucian set down the cup. "The Ceremony isn't about magic. Not really. It's about perception. People will watch you. Judge you. Decide your worth before the crystal even glows."
"I don't care what people think."
"You should." Lucian leaned forward. "Perception is power. If they see a street rat, they'll treat you like a street rat. If they see someone worth watching, they'll make space for you. Space you can use."
Finn didn't argue. He'd learned not to argue. Lucian was almost always right.
