Tongen waited the way he always waited—completely still, no performance of patience, just the genuine article. The morning light fell flat across the training ground. Nothing moved.
Jelo had been turning the explanation over since the walk here, trying different ways to frame it, testing whether any of them came out clearly. None of them had. So he decided to do what he usually did when language wasn't cooperating.
He'd show it first. Then explain.
"Something happened during the last session," he said. "A new ability." He paused, choosing the words carefully. "It started in my feet. But it wasn't just speed—it wasn't me moving faster. It was like each step I took was carrying something extra. Like pressure building underneath me. Like fire sitting in the ground right where my feet landed." He stopped. "I don't know what to call it yet."
