The torch burned low in the training chamber. Daren looked at kael and says "we need to train more in the night since u are busy in the day" so concentrate and activate the eyes kael. Kael sat on the mat, his breath even, the glow of his eye under control now. He had learned to summon it and dismiss it, but Daren was far from satisfied.

  “You’ve taken the first step,” Daren said, pacing the floor with his hands behind his back. “But control is nothing without strength. If you cannot hold the eye active, it will flicker when you need it most. Or worse, it will burn you from the inside out.”

  Kael frowned, rolling his shoulders. “So now I just have to keep it on?”

  Daren stopped. His stare was sharp. “Not just on. You must carry it. Your eye is like a blade. To wield it, you need the stamina to endure its weight. Right now, you don’t have that.”

  Kael clenched his fist. “Then teach me.”

  “Stand.”

  Kael rose to his feet, wiping sweat from his brow. Daren gestured toward the center of the room.

  “Activate the eye. Hold it. Nothing else. Just hold it.”

  Kael closed his eyes, pictured the door within, and opened it. The glow sparked alive, burning faintly in his left iris. At first, it felt easy—he could summon it now without hesitation.

  But seconds stretched into minutes. The glow pulsed, heavy, like a weight pressing behind his eye. His breathing quickened. Sweat formed along his temple.

  “Don’t release it,” Daren ordered. His voice was steady, almost cold.

  Kael ground his teeth. “It feels… like it’s draining me.”

  “That is the cost,” Daren replied. “The longer you hold it, the more it takes. Your task is to endure. No tricks. No shortcuts. Only stamina.”

  Kael forced himself still. His chest rose and fell, faster now, each breath ragged. The pressure behind his eye spread to his temple, then down his neck. His legs trembled.

  Minutes later, his body gave in. The glow sputtered and vanished. Kael dropped to one knee, gasping for air.

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  Daren did not move to help him. He only spoke. “How long do you think you lasted?”

  Kael coughed out, “A few minutes.”

  “Barely two,” Daren said flatly. “And already you’re on the floor. In battle, two minutes will not save you. You will need to hold it ten times as long. Perhaps more.”

  Kael pressed his hands to the ground, forcing himself up. “Then I’ll get there.”

  “You will try again.”

  The second attempt went worse. Kael managed to hold it steady for less than two minutes before pain forced him to let go. By the third attempt, his body shook, and his vision blurred, leaving him with a pounding in his skull.

  Still, Daren’s tone did not soften. “This is your weakness. Not your skill. Not your will. Your stamina. It must grow, or you will fall before you even fight.”

  Kael staggered back to his feet, chest burning. “Then how do I build it?”

  Daren motioned to the door. “Follow me.”

  Outside, the air was cool. The moon hung above Ridgehall, pale against the dark sky. Daren led Kael across the courtyard and down the slope toward the training grounds. The field stretched wide, with posts driven into the earth and stone markers scattered for drills.

  “Your body must match your eye,” Daren said. “Stamina is not only in the mind but in the flesh. You will run until your lungs burn. You will hold the eye while you run. You will carry the weight until it no longer breaks you.”

  Kael’s jaw tightened. He had run before, trained with swords, sparred in the yard. But this was different—this was not about strength of arm or speed of blade. It was about endurance, the kind that wore men down slow, until even their spirit cracked.

  Daren stood at the edge of the ground. “Begin.”

  Kael lit his eye and started forward. The field stretched long, the posts blurring in the night. At first his strides were strong, the glow steady. But soon the strain set in. Each step grew heavier, his breaths sharper. His eye felt like fire under his skin.

  Halfway across, his vision tilted. His legs buckled. The glow sputtered out.

  He dropped to the ground, panting hard. “I can’t—”

  “You can,” Daren cut in. His voice was harsh, but his eyes did not leave Kael. “But not yet. Again.”

  Kael wiped his face, pushed himself back up, and ran again. This time, he made it further. The glow burned longer. His lungs screamed. He forced himself on, until at last the eye failed, and he collapsed again.

  The training stretched into the night. Kael ran, fell, rose, and ran again. By the time Daren called a halt, his legs barely held him. His clothes clung with sweat, and his chest felt hollow, like all breath had been stolen from him.

  Daren stood over him, calm as ever. “This is the path. You will run every night. You will hold the eye every time. Your body will learn, or it will break. And if it breaks, then you were never meant to carry this power.”

  Kael stared at the ground, fists digging into the dirt. “I’ll learn. No matter how long it takes.”

  Daren gave a slight nod. “Good. Tomorrow, we begin again.”

  The next night, Kael returned to the grounds. His body ached, every step heavy from the strain of the night before. But he summoned the eye, and he ran.

  The pain came faster, but he pressed on. Daren’s voice echoed behind him: “Breathe steady. Do not fight your body. Guide it.”

  Kael tried, forcing his breaths into rhythm with his steps. He stumbled, caught himself, and pushed forward again. The glow flickered but did not die.

  By the end, he collapsed in the dirt once more, chest heaving. Yet there was one small difference—he had lasted longer than before.

  Lying on the ground, staring at the stars, Kael realized something: stamina was not built in a moment. It was carved out of pain, shaped by will, tested again and again.

  And he would endure it all.

  Daren walked up and stood over him. “This is only the beginning. The eye demands more than skill. It demands endurance. You will train until holding it feels as natural as breathing. Only then will you be ready to copy what you see and keep it.”

  Kael wiped sweat from his face, his voice low but firm. “Then I’ll keep training. No matter how much it hurts.”

  Daren’s gaze lingered on him. For the first time, there was a hint of approval in his tone. “Good. Tomorrow, we push further.”

  The night closed around them, heavy and silent. Kael lay in the dirt, body broken, but spirit unbent. He had begun the second step, and though it was harder than anything before, he would not stop.