The crash of water thundered against the rocks.
Towan stood just under the fall, leg cocked back, sweat dripping from his jaw as he snapped another Skybreaker into motion.
He landed clean. Stable. Fast.
But when the kick ended, the flow didn’t follow.
The Essentia around him surged in a spiral for half a second… then scattered like mist.
He clenched his teeth.
Too much force. Not enough guidance.
He reset.
Another attempt.
Same thing.
And again.
Same. Damn. Thing.
Nearby, Elliot sat reading, glancing over occasionally with a raised eyebrow.
“Your flow's slipping again.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Towan muttered, resetting his stance. “Leon said I should trust the rhythm. But no matter how many times I try, I can’t keep the flow in motion after impact. It breaks at the pivot.”
“Want me to throw a potato at you again?”
“I swear I’ll kick your book into orbit.”
Elliot smirked, but said nothing more. He knew Towan wasn’t in the mood.
Not today.
Towan tried again.
Skybreaker. Step. Twist. Impact.
Flow — snap. Break. Gone.
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Why can’t I hold it together? I feel the rhythm. I feel the pressure. I know what it’s supposed to do—
Why can’t I make it happen?
He dropped to his knees with a frustrated growl, hands buried in the wet grass.
Then—
“Because you’re using power to force the flow.”
Towan froze.
That voice wasn’t Elliot’s.
He turned.
Eryndar stood at the edge of the trees, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
“And Essentia doesn’t follow force. It follows intent and structure.”
Towan stood slowly, face tight with surprise.
“You’ve been watching again?”
“You’re trying to polish steel with a hammer,” Eryndar continued, ignoring the question. “Skybreaker isn’t just a kick. It’s a compression wave. Flow must coil at the base before release—then strike.”
He stepped forward.
“But your flow disperses on impact. You’re releasing it too early. The technique is incomplete.”
Towan blinked. “So what do I do?”
Eryndar stopped a few steps away.
For the first time, he didn’t just watch.
He engaged.
“Reset your stance. I’ll show you what you missed.”
Elliot raised an eyebrow from the distance, watching quietly.
“Huh. Took him long enough.”
Then, Eryndar moved.
No announcement. No buildup. Just one smooth pivot into the familiar stance.
And then—the kick.
Not the exact Skybreaker Towan had been attempting. But the foundation was there—clear, solid, unmistakable. His body coiled low, Essentia sinking into the earth, compressing in his leg like a spring loaded with pressure. Then—
Release.
His foot snapped upward with brutal grace—like a wave rising, curling, and crashing all in a single fluid arc. The motion didn’t stop at the foot. The flow followed, spiraling upward through the strike and rippling outward, bending the air itself.
No shatter. No break. Just flow, held from start to finish.
That’s it… that’s what it’s supposed to feel like.
Towan's eyes lit up.
“Saw it?” Eryndar said, stepping back into place. “The flow—during the impact—it doesn’t end. It tran-”
He was about to explain more when—
Towan launched forward.
No hesitation. No questions. He dropped into the stance, centered his breath, and moved.
Kick.
Coil.
Release.
Flow.
This time, the wind didn’t scatter.
It followed.
The flow wrapped around his leg like a ribbon of force, then unfurled on impact—clean, sharp, natural.
Eryndar blinked once.
Paused.
“…Forget it. Good job.”
Towan landed, panting, but grinning.
“Thanks! Would’ve taken me a while to figure that out.”
Eryndar didn’t smile. But he didn’t look disappointed either.
Just… thoughtful.