Asher smiled faintly. "Good. That means it's tied to more than just offensive power. It can be used in battle for disruption, or in support to rapidly regenerate. Blood is life, and Wood is growth—together, it's a parasitic art. You feed on what you touch. That's your core."
Veyra's eyes widened slightly as she realized what he meant.
"It's not just a mutation," Asher continued. "It's a strength few can replicate. If you learn to evolve it, that skill alone could be the foundation of your combat style—and maybe more."
"But…" she looked down, voice low. "Everyone said it's useless. That I have no real path. That it's too different from the Varnis line to be of worth."
Asher leaned forward slightly, tone calm but edged. "Then forget the Varnis line. Your power doesn't need to belong to a legacy to be real. Make your own. Forge your own art. And from now on—train like hell to grow it. We'll guide you."
Veyra's throat tightened, and she quickly turned her gaze to the horizon again, blinking fast.
"Thank you," she said softly. "I won't let you down."
Asher's expression turned faintly amused. "I never asked you not to."
Valeris gave a sideways smile. "And don't worry—he says the same thing to me every few weeks."
Veyra gave a small, shaky laugh.
Veyra stood quietly for a while longer, the cold wind brushing her hair as the black lake below rippled like liquid ink. Then, with a deep breath, she turned back toward Asher and Valeris—her new companions, and perhaps, her first real allies.
Asher was already moving again, leading them along a narrow path that curved through jagged hills stained with old moss and crimson lichen. Birds with silver eyes flitted in the air, their calls sharp and echoing.
As they walked, Valeris glanced over her shoulder. "We'll stop in a few miles. There's a safe clearing ahead—good for rest and training."
"Training?" Veyra asked softly.
Valeris arched a brow. "You didn't think you'd get a vacation, did you?"
Veyra flushed faintly but nodded. "No, I just… I wasn't sure."
Asher's voice cut in from ahead. "You'll fight. Maybe not today, but soon. If you're with us, you'll face things your family couldn't even imagine."
"But," he added after a beat, "you won't be alone. That's the difference."
They reached the clearing not long after—an elevated glade nestled between two ridgelines, with soft ground and a circle of dark boulders that looked half-melted by ancient spells. A perfect place to train.
Valeris conjured a protective ward around the space with a few practiced gestures, her palms glowing faintly with starlight as she drew a sigil into the earth.
Then Asher turned to Veyra.
"Alright. Show me the Blood Root of Crimson Bloom."
Veyra swallowed, nodded, and stepped forward. She drew in a deep breath, focused, and pressed her hand to the ground.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—the soil beneath her palm pulsed. A thick crimson root burst forth, coiling and writhing like a serpent before anchoring itself into the earth. More followed, snaking outward in all directions, the veins along their surface glowing faintly like arteries. Wherever they touched, the grass withered.
The roots pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat.
"Now bloom it," Asher instructed.
Veyra gritted her teeth and pulled her hand back—then clenched it into a fist.
The roots trembled… and bloomed.
Crimson flowers unfurled along their length—each one bristling with sharp petals shaped like jagged razors. The air thickened with a coppery tang, and from the center of each bloom, tiny filaments released a mist that shimmered like blood turned to smoke.
Valeris blinked. "That's… not a weak skill."
Asher crouched beside one of the blooms, studying it. "These flowers siphon essence. They can either transfer it to you, weaken opponents, or detonate if overfed. With proper refinement, you could use them to trap opponents, heal yourself, or force area denial in group fights."
Veyra watched the field of crimson blossoms with wide eyes.
"This is mine?" she whispered.
"No," Asher said. "This is the start of yours. By the time we're finished, that skill will make Kings flinch."
Veyra's fists clenched at her sides. She nodded once, sharply.
"Good," Valeris said with a smirk. "Because we're heading into the Shardrift Valley next. And the beasts there won't wait for you to finish blooming."
The sun dipped low as twilight painted the skies with hues of ash and violet. The warded clearing shimmered faintly with Valeris's sigil work, sealing them from the outside world.
Veyra stood at the center of the glade, surrounded by the faded remains of her summoned blooms. Her breath came slow and steady, but sweat glistened on her brow. She had never pushed herself this hard before—not under guidance, not with purpose.
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Asher stood a few paces away, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
Veyra raised her hand. Blood essence pulsed around her fingertips as the roots exploded outward again—crimson tendrils weaving into the earth, blooming faster now, with more control. The flowers opened like mouths thirsty for essence.
"Better," he said. "Now make them move."
"Control them. Direct them. They aren't just traps—they're an extension of you. If you can't guide their growth, you'll lose to anyone who can move faster than you think."
Veyra gritted her teeth. Sweat slid down her neck. Her palm trembled slightly.
She closed her eyes and reached inward—as she felt her connection with all those flowers.
The flowers twitched.
She inhaled sharply and flung her hand sideways—and three of the roots lashed outward like whips, curling around one of the black stones in the circle. With another motion, a bloom burst under her command, releasing that glowing red mist.
Valeris raised a brow. "You're not bad."
Veyra exhaled hard, staggering slightly. "I can't… keep it up for long. It drains me."
"Of course it does," Asher said. "Your innate skilll have changed after evolution, it will take time to get used to it"
She nodded but then with determination she added" I will do it"