Lucien didn't wait. The next day, my training began.
I moved through the forest again, but this time, it wasn't about running—it was about control. Controlling my speed, my senses, my mark. Every step, every breath, was deliberate.
"You have power," Lucien said as we sparred, "but power without control is dangerous… to yourself and everyone around you."
I nodded, sweat dripping down my face. My muscles ached, but the adrenaline sharpened my mind.
"You're stronger than you know," he continued. "Tonight, you'll test it."
The target was a holographic wolf, moving like a real rogue. My pulse quickened. Fear? Yes. Excitement? Definitely. I focused. The mark flared as I moved. The illusion froze, then shattered.
Lucien's eyes glinted. "Better. But remember—power is a message. It tells the world who you are. Use it wisely."
"Like… Kaiden?" I muttered.
"Like Kaiden," he said, no emotion, just fact.
That night, I lay in my room, exhausted. My mind kept replaying the ceremony, the exiles, the rogues, and Kaiden's eyes. Every memory reminded me why I couldn't stay weak. I couldn't.