Gray didn’t speak much as they stepped out of the hut after breakfast.

  Tamemoto followed half a step behind, still clutching the sharpened stick he had been practicing with earlier. The boy was quiet, eyes darting at every shadow between the tents and huts. The Tile River flowed steadily beside them, its water catching the morning light. In the distance, the dark silhouette of Ashfall’s crater rim loomed like a constant warning.

  The camp was waking up. Smoke rose from cook fires. A few travelers were already moving along the river road — a small caravan heading toward Rift Spire, a pair of disciples in white robes walking the other way. The air smelled of river mud, drying fish, and the faint metallic tang of ley stones being traded in the market square.

  Gauis led them to the small training clearing behind their hut — a patch of hard-packed dirt and river sand they had claimed years ago. Loose rocks, broken planks, and scraps of metal from previous scavenging runs were scattered around.

  Gauis stopped in the center and turned to face them. His good eye was steady, but the old wound in his arm made his movements slower than they once were.

  “Today we fight like the world fights,” he said. His voice was rough but patient. “Not with power. With what’s around you. Watch.”

  He pointed at a loose rock the size of a fist. “Gray. Pick it up.”

  Gray did. The stone was warm from the sun, rough against his palm.

  Gauis nodded. “Tamemoto. Stand ten paces away. Don’t move.” Tamemoto obeyed, eyes wide but trying to look brave.

  Gauis turned back to Gray. “Throw it. Not hard. Just enough.” Gray threw. T

  he rock flew straight. Tamemoto flinched but stayed put. Gauis caught it mid-air with his good hand.

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  “See?” he said. “The world gives you weapons. Rocks. Sand. A cloak. Even the river if you’re smart. But most people only see the obvious. You two will learn to see everything.” He tossed the rock back to Gray.

  “Now you. Both of you. Use the ground. Use each other. Use the wind if you have to. Fight dirty. Fight smart. Fight to survive.”

  The next hour passed in sweat and dust.

  Gauis had them practice basic stances first — weight on the back foot, knife held reverse for Gray, open hands for Tamemoto since he still froze with a blade. Then he made them improvise.

  Gray picked up a broken plank and used it like a short staff, swinging it low to trip Tamemoto. The younger boy stumbled but rolled away, grabbing a handful of sand and throwing it toward Gray’s face. Gray turned his head just in time, but some grains still stung his eyes.

  “Good,” Gauis grunted. “Tamemoto — you used the environment. Gray — you adapted. That’s how you stay alive.”

  He walked between them, correcting grips, adjusting stances, and repeating the same lesson over and over.

  “Emotions are weapons too. Fear makes you sloppy. Anger makes you blind. Control them, or they control you. The world is scary, boys. It will try to break you. The only way to win is to understand that fear… and keep moving anyway.”

  Gray listened. He always did.

  Tamemoto was breathing hard, cheeks flushed, but there was a small spark in his eyes now — not quite confidence, but something close. He looked at Gray after every exchange, checking if he was doing it right.

  Gray gave him a small nod each time. That was enough. When the sun climbed higher, Gauis finally called a stop.

  “Enough for today,” he said. “You’re both getting better. Gray — you think too much sometimes. Tamemoto — you hesitate. Fix that.”

  He ruffled Tamemoto’s hair roughly, the way he always did when he was proud but didn’t want to say it out loud.

  Gray wiped sweat from his brow. His channels ached faintly from the light aura coating he’d tried during the drills — still painful, still unstable. But better than yesterday.

  He looked at Tamemoto. The younger boy was grinning despite the bruises forming on his arms.

  Gray felt something tight in his chest. Not warmth exactly. Just… responsibility.

  Rebecca stepped out of the hut, wiping her hands on her apron. She looked tired but smiled when she saw them.

  “Be careful,” she said softly. “And come back before the sun gets too high.”

  Gauis gave Gray a meaningful look. “Eyes open. Ears open. Mouth closed unless you have to speak.” Gray nodded.

  The two brothers left the clearing and walked toward the market square to help with the day’s work.

  The Tile River kept flowing behind them. And somewhere far beyond the badlands, the world kept turning.