As Aren tried to tap into the Ether within him, it felt like grasping smoke. It slipped away, elusive and intangible. He instinctively knew the catalyst for his power lay buried within his most traumatic memories.

  Was it anger? Frustration? Or just raw, unfiltered emotion?

  He didn't have time to dissect it now. The burning desire to understand his abilities, the mystery of the tablet's message, overshadowed his concern for his own mental state.

  He dove headfirst into the abyss of his nightmares, the familiar sting of anger, sharp as broken glass, rising within him. As that raw emotion surged, the Ether responded, coalescing within him. He sensed its chaotic energy, destructive like the memories themselves, yet a strange sense of power thrummed beneath the pain, a twisted comfort in the familiar darkness.

  Carefully timing the Ether's pulse, Aren directed it toward the stone tablet, intending to maintain a steady flow. But the moment he felt the energy slip away, transferring to the tablet, a backlash slammed into him, throwing him from his meditation. He clung to the device, his fingers straining to maintain his grip.

  This time, the force wasn't as devastating as it had been in the forest. Instead, a throbbing ache bloomed in his arms, radiating up to his shoulders. As the pain intensified, he snapped his eyes open.

  The tablet pulsed with light, symbols swirling across its surface, actively arranging themselves into a coherent form. He couldn't decipher them. The script was unlike any alphabet he'd encountered on Earth, and he'd traveled extensively, both as a fighter and later as an instructor.

  Finally, the letters locked into place, and Jaxx'im glided closer, his movements as fluid as always.

  "Allow me, Young Sir," he said, his voice a low, resonant hum. He gently took the stone tablet from Aren, flipped it over with practiced ease, and began to read.

  "What language is that?" Aren asked, massaging his aching arms.

  "It is Veridian," Jaxx'im replied, his focus entirely on the tablet.

  For the first time, Aren saw a flicker of surprise – or was it awe? – on Jaxx'im's face. His green, glowing eyes widened almost imperceptibly, the usual cool detachment momentarily absent. The ensuing pause stretched, prickling Aren's nerves.

  Is something wrong? Does it say I'm an impostor? That would make things complicated.

  Jaxx'im looked up, his expression once again an impassive mask. "Sir Aren, may I request that you keep this information confidential for the time being?"

  "Sure," Aren said, his patience wearing thin. "What is it?"

  "The Ether's sentience has just been confirmed," Jaxx'im stated, his voice betraying a hint of awe. "The Ether has imparted a message to us. It said, 'Let the echoes of your searching fade into the void.' Whatever that may signify. Apparently, it is unwilling to reveal information about you."

  "What?" Aren exclaimed, incredulous. "Are you certain you're reading it correctly? What about my Tier?" A sentient force? And it refuses to tell me about myself? What kind of cosmic joke is this?

  "I regret to disappoint you, but this is far more significant than your Tier, Sir Aren," Jaxx'im replied, his eyes gleaming with intellectual curiosity. "A sentient, invisible force… is it not truly fascinating? And it speaks, with purpose."

  "Alright, I get that," Aren said, trying to keep his frustration in check. "But why wouldn't it let me know my Tier? Leo got his."

  "Ah, but this new device is far more sophisticated," Jaxx'im explained. "It is designed to reveal your Tier, your predisposition – whether you are an Enhancer or a Caster – your strengths, and your weaknesses. If you wish to know your Tier specifically, we can try the older device."

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  If I have to relive my worst memories every time I want to access the Ether, I'll go crazy. I'll try one last time, and later focus on peaceful wielding during training.

  Aren agreed to try the old device. The same thing happened: he couldn't maintain the flow for even a second, only a brief, uncontrolled burst of energy.

  Jaxx'im seemed lost in thought, still pondering the implications of the earlier experiment. Once the old device revealed the result, he said quickly, "Your grasp was too brief, and therefore this measurement may be somewhat inexact. However, as we anticipated, you are Tier 1, just like anyone who can wield Ether."

  Jaxx'im retrieved the device and returned it to its place in the cabinet. "Forgive me, Sir Aren, but I must return to my work. Today has been a revolution, though you may not yet perceive it as such. Thank you for your participation. You are welcome to visit any time." The humanoid turned and walked toward his desk, clutching the new stone tablet, now blank and devoid of text.

  Aren shrugged, a mixture of satisfaction and frustration churning within him. Tier One. He'd finally done it. A small victory, perhaps, but a victory nonetheless.

  I'll ask him about the ring next time. He's completely consumed by the idea of the Ether talking to him. Reminds me of Victor in some ways. An old man would need a cigar and a glass of whiskey after I tell him everything that's happened so far.

  Aren strode through the castle corridors, shoulders squared and a faint smile playing on his lips.

  Tier One. Finally, I can grasp this power. If only it didn't come at the cost of my sanity. I should avoid using it that way. From now on, I'll focus on trying to access it with just my will, in a neutral emotional state.

  When he reached the training ground, it was deserted. There was still an hour before the scheduled training session. He adjusted the ring on his finger and sat down to meditate, hoping it would aid his focus.

  Aren felt a subtle improvement. He could definitely sense the Ether within him now, like a still sea with occasional, gentle waves. But when he tried to calmly direct the flow, it was as if he were pushing against the current. He could only feel where the Ether was naturally flowing, a slow, constant circulation throughout his body. He couldn't alter its course.

  Well, I was expecting to feel it in a couple of weeks. I managed it faster, so that's good progress.

  Later, Leo, Valerian, and Isla arrived together. Leo's expression suggested he wasn't thrilled about Isla joining their training, but there was no dissuading her. They both grinned when they saw Aren, rushing over to him and peppering him with questions about his trip to the city and the ring on his finger.

  Aren spun a fabricated tale about buying it from a merchant for one gold coin. Isla wore a knowing grin, clearly pleased that she alone knew the ring's true origin. Valerian congratulated Aren on the purchase, but cautioned that such rings weren't particularly useful until Tier 4, as a ten percent boost was negligible without sufficient Ether control.

  Aren then proudly announced his achievement of reaching Tier 1, omitting the more unsettling details. Isla and Leo were ecstatic, showering him with congratulations and vowing to train even harder. Valerian, however, was more reserved, his brow furrowed slightly. "That is quite an accomplishment, mastering Ether in such a brief period. Your talents, it would seem, are quite boundless," he said, forcing a chuckle.

  "Aren, show me some new techniques! I've already mastered the stance!" Leo pressed, eager to learn.

  "Alright, I'll show you both a proper punching technique."

  Aren positioned himself next to the punching bag.

  "It's all about balance between muscle relaxation and tension, with precise timing," he explained, adopting a fighting stance. "The speed comes from loosening your arm as you throw the punch. Imagine your arm isn't constrained by rigid bones, think of it as a whip. Then, right as you reach the target, tense your muscles and lock your joints, making it penetrate your opponent like a spear."

  He demonstrated the punch, a dull thud echoing as his fist connected with the bag. Despite the lingering ache in his arm from the Ether test, it didn't hurt as much as the first time he'd punched the bag.

  Isla clapped enthusiastically. "I shall punch until sunset!"

  They all proceeded to practice the simple straight punch. Aren offered guidance and corrected their trajectories. He found himself enjoying the practice, the day's events fueling a desire to hit something as hard as he could. Even Valerian set aside his sword and began experimenting with the new technique. Aren doubted he truly needed it, given his Tier 8 status.

  I wonder what his limit is exactly. Can he take on an army or siege a castle single-handedly? I need to ask Jaxx'im about the tiers in more detail someday.

  When the training session ended, Isla collapsed onto the ground, pleading with Leo to carry her back to her chambers. Her brother murmured in protest but scooped her up effortlessly and put her on his massive shoulder as if she weighed nothing.

  "Not like that! I'm not a sack of potatoes!" Isla cried, but her protests were muffled against Leo's shoulder. She glared at Aren, a comical picture of regal displeasure.

  During dinner, over the clinking of silverware and polite conversation, Leo carefully broached the subject of Aren's progress with his father. Darius, after a moment of consideration, raised his goblet. "Tier One, eh? Excellent! We shall celebrate! Aren's parents arrive in two days, and I'll throw a feast grander than the last!"

  Shit, I completely forgot the parents are coming. How am I going to deal with this situation?