A Banner Torn (Book 1 Complete)

Kaelid:

He stood in Elder Myra's garden, eyes closed, feeling the morning sun warm his face. Two weeks had passed since their return from High-pass City, and the memories of the living library still lingered in his mind like a vivid dream. The journal rested in his satchel, a comforting weight against his hip.

"Focus, Kaelid," Elder Myra's voice was gentle but firm. "Tell me what you feel."

He took a deep breath, allowing his awareness to expand beyond his body. The sensation had become more familiar since their journey, like slipping into cool water. First came the garden, a tapestry of green life pulsing around him. Then the village beyond, a distant hum of activity.

"The Deep-Pulse is stronger today," he said, keeping his eyes closed. "It feels like it's flowing up from the ground, through the plants, and into the air."

"Good," Elder Myra replied. "And what else?"

Kaelid concentrated harder, reaching deeper. Colors bloomed behind his closed eyelids, rippling outward in concentric circles. "There's a disturbance to the east. Something off-balance."

"Yes," Elder Myra confirmed. "The stream has been diverted by a fallen tree. The land there is adjusting."

He opened his eyes, blinking in the sunlight. Elder Myra sat on her wooden stool, her weathered hands resting on her knees. Rannek stood nearby, his expression thoughtful.

"You're both progressing quickly," she said, a rare smile crossing her face. "Faster than I expected."

"It's easier now," Rannek said. "The voices are clearer. Less like whispers and more like conversations."

Elder Myra nodded. "What you're experiencing is sympathetic resonance. Your core shards are attuning to the world's natural rhythms, allowing you to perceive what others cannot."

He reached into his satchel and withdrew the journal. Its leather cover had darkened with use, the edges worn smooth. "Elder Myra, I wanted to ask you about something we discovered."

Her eyes sharpened with interest. "Go on."

"In High-pass, I learned I could send out a pulse, like the one the journal uses to gather information." He ran his fingers over the cover. "When I do, I get echoes back. Information. But it's confusing, like trying to understand too many people talking at once."

Elder Myra extended her hand. "May I?"

He handed her the journal. She held it carefully, her fingers tracing the binding.

"Remarkable," she murmured. "The library gave you this?"

"Yes. It said the journal was special. That it would grow with me."

Elder Myra closed her eyes briefly. "I sense its connection to you. It's more than just a book, isn't it?"

He nodded. "It feels alive, somehow. And when I send out a pulse like it does, I can learn things. But I don't know how to control what I learn or understand all of it."

"Show me," she said, returning the journal.

Kaelid held the book in both hands and concentrated. He had practiced this many times since returning from High-pass. A gentle warmth spread from his chest where the core shard had merged with his skin. He directed the energy outward, visualizing it as ripples on water.

The air around him shimmered slightly, visible only to those who knew what to look for. Elder Myra's eyes widened as she observed.

"I see it," she said quietly. "You're sending out waves of energy, just as the journal does."

The ripples expanded outward, touching the plants, the ground, Elder Myra herself. Then they bounced back, carrying fragments of information. He gasped as the impressions flooded his mind.

*The soil needs water... Elder Myra's knee aches from an old injury... A bird's nest with three eggs in the nearby tree...*

He swayed slightly, overwhelmed by the input.

"What do you see?" Elder Myra asked.

"Everything," his voice strained. "Too much."

"That's the challenge," she said. "You're receiving without filtering. Like trying to hear one voice in a crowded room." She placed her hand on his shoulder. "Try again, but this time, focus on just one thing. The oldest tree in my garden."

He nodded and sent out another pulse, directing his attention toward the gnarled oak at the garden's edge. The returning information was still complex but more manageable.

*One hundred and seventeen years old... Roots extending twenty feet in all directions... Three generations of squirrels have nested in its branches...*

"It's working," he said with excitement. "I can feel its age, its roots, even the creatures that live in it."

"Good," Elder Myra nodded. "This is how you begin to understand what the pulse tells you. By narrowing your focus, by asking specific questions of the world."

Rannek watched with fascination. "Can I learn to do that too?"

"Your gifts manifest differently," Elder Myra explained. "You hear the voices of living things, their intentions and needs. Kaelid sees the connections, the patterns. Together, you complement each other."

He looked at his friend. "I could try to teach you. The journal showed me how it works."

Elder Myra rose from her stool. "That's enough for today. Practice what you've learned, but be cautious. These abilities require balance. Too much reaching outward leaves you vulnerable."

The training yard echoed with the sound of wooden practice swords and shouted commands. He adjusted his grip on his training staff, watching Brannic demonstrate a defensive stance to the newest militia recruits.

"Wider stance," Brannic called out, his tail swishing behind him as he moved through the positions. "Your balance is your foundation."

He mirrored the movements, feeling the familiar strain in his muscles. Since returning from High-pass, Brannic had intensified their training, pushing them beyond basic forms into more complex techniques.

"Kaelid, Rannek, step forward," Brannic called.

They moved to the center of the yard, facing each other with practice staffs in hand. Around them, the other trainees formed a circle.

"Today we focus on awareness," Brannic said, addressing the group. "Not just seeing your opponent's movements, but sensing their intent."

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He met Rannek's eyes, seeing the same nervous excitement he felt. They had sparred countless times before, but never as a demonstration.

"Begin," Brannic commanded.

Rannek moved first, a quick thrust toward Kaelid's midsection who sidestepped, feeling the air shift as the staff passed inches from his body. He countered with a sweep aimed at Rannek's legs.

As they exchanged blows, he felt something change. The world seemed to slow around him. He could see the subtle shift in Rannek's weight before each attack, the slight narrowing of his eyes when he committed to a strike.

"Good," Brannic called. "Now close your eyes, both of you."

He hesitated, then complied. Darkness enveloped him, but he could still sense Rannek's presence, the subtle vibrations of his movements through the ground.

"Continue," Brannic ordered.

Rannek attacked, and he blocked instinctively, guided by the Deep-Pulse flowing between them. He could almost see the ripples of energy, like colored waves washing over his closed eyelids.

"He's anticipating," someone whispered from the circle of observers. He recognized Marta's voice.

"Yes," Brannic confirmed. "But anticipation is not enough. Kaelid, what is Rannek planning?"

He concentrated, reaching out with his senses. "He's going to feint left, then strike right."

A collective gasp rose from the observers as Rannek did exactly that, and he blocked the true attack despite his closed eyes.

"Open your eyes," Brannic instructed.

Kaelid blinked, adjusting to the light. Rannek was staring at him with a mixture of awe and competitive frustration.

"That's not fair," Rannek complained, though his tone was light. "You're reading my mind."

"Not his mind," Brannic corrected. "His intent. There's a difference." He turned to address the group. "True awareness in combat isn't about seeing the future. It's about reading the present so clearly that the future becomes obvious."

When the main session ended, Brannic called him, Rannek, and Marta to stay behind.

"Your awareness is developing well," he said, his voice lowered so only they could hear. "But there's more to combat than defense. You must learn to act on what you perceive."

He led them to a separate area where several wooden posts had been set up, each marked with colored bands at different heights.

"Strike only the red bands," Brannic instructed, handing each of them a thin practice rod. "As quickly as you can."

He stepped forward, staff in hand. The posts stood at varying distances, the red bands positioned differently on each. He took a deep breath, centered himself, and began.

His body moved fluidly from one post to the next, the staff connecting with each red band in rapid succession. He could feel the Deep-Pulse guiding him, showing him the most efficient path.

When he finished, Brannic nodded approvingly. "Good. Rannek?"

Rannek's approach was different. Where he flowed, Rannek darted, his movements quick and precise. He struck each target accurately, though with less fluid grace.

Marta went last, her technique combining elements of both boys' styles. She was not as naturally attuned to the Deep-Pulse, but her determination and focus compensated.

"You each have different strengths," Brannic observed when they had finished. "Kaelid sees patterns and flows. Rannek hears intentions and reacts with precision. Marta analyzes and adapts." He crossed his arms, his scaled skin catching the afternoon light. "Together, you complement each other."

As they were leaving, Kerethin approached, carrying a basket of fresh herbs. The scent of lavender and mint filled the air.

"How was training?" she asked, her gaze moving from Brannic to the three young trainees.

"Productive," Brannic replied. "They're ready for the next step."

Kerethin nodded. "Good. Because I'm ready to begin their other education." She turned to Kaelid, Rannek, and Marta. "Tomorrow morning, before your session with Elder Myra. Bring your journals and something to carry samples."

"Samples of what?" Marta asked.

Kerethin smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Plants that can heal, plants that can harm, and plants that can do both. Knowledge that might save your lives one day."

The old oak tree stood solitary at the edge of the village commons, its massive branches creating a canopy of dappled shade. He sat with his back against the trunk, the journal open on his lap, waiting for Rannek.

He ran his fingers over the blank pages, feeling the subtle energy that pulsed within. Since returning from High-pass, the journal had become more responsive to his touch, as if it were learning his patterns just as he was learning its.

"Sorry I'm late," Rannek called, jogging across the commons. "Had to help my mother with the bread delivery."

He closed the journal and stood. "It's fine. I was just practicing."

Rannek dropped down beside him, slightly out of breath. "So, how do we do this? How do I learn to make the pulse thing?"

"I'm not sure exactly, when I do it, I focus on the feeling in my chest where the core shard is, and then I just push it outward."

Rannek placed a hand over his own chest. "I can feel mine sometimes. Especially when we're training with Brannic. It gets warm."

"Mine too," he nodded. "Maybe we should start there. Try to feel your shard, really focus on it."

They sat cross-legged, facing each other. He closed his eyes, encouraging Rannek to do the same.

"Imagine the shard inside you," he instructed, remembering how the living library had taught him. "Feel its energy, like a small sun in your chest."

Rannek's brow furrowed in concentration. "I think I feel it. It's humming?"

"That's it," he encouraged. "Now try to direct that energy outward, like ripples on water."

Rannek's face tensed with effort, but after several minutes, he sighed in frustration. "I can't do it. It stays inside, no matter how hard I push."

"Maybe we're approaching this wrong," opening his eyes. "The library said our shards are connected, that they came from the same source."

"Curio," Rannek nodded.

"Right. So maybe..." Kaelid extended his hand. "Let's try something else."

Rannek looked at the offered hand, then clasped it firmly. As their palms met, he concentrated on his own shard, feeling its familiar warmth. He sent out a gentle pulse, directing it through their connected hands.

The effect was immediate and unexpected. A surge of energy flowed between them, and he felt Rannek's shard responding to his own. The warmth in his chest intensified, spreading down his arm and into their clasped hands.

Rannek gasped, his eyes widening. "I felt that! It's like your shard is talking to mine."

He nodded excitedly. "They're sharing information. Just like the library said they would."

They maintained the connection, and he could feel Rannek's shard absorbing the pattern of his pulse. It was learning, adapting.

"Try it now," he suggested, releasing Rannek's hand.

Rannek closed his eyes again, his expression more confident. He took a deep breath, and he saw the air around him shimmer slightly.

"I did it!" Rannek exclaimed, his eyes flying open. "I sent out a pulse!"

"What did you feel?"

"It was strange," Rannek said, his voice filled with wonder. "Different from hearing the voices. This was like touching everything around me all at once." Rannek looked at him with newfound respect. "Is this what you experience all the time?"

"Not all the time," he replied. "Only when I'm focusing on it. And it's getting easier to control, to filter what comes back."

Rannek's expression grew thoughtful. "Do you think our shards will keep changing us? Making us more different?"

The question hung in the air between them. He had wondered the same thing many times since their return from High-pass.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "But Elder Myra says change is part of life. The important thing is how we direct it."

Rannek nodded slowly. "The library said something similar. That we have choices about how we grow."

Kaelid opened the journal again, running his fingers over the blank pages. "We should record what happened today. How your shard learned from mine."

As he touched the page, words began to appear, flowing across the paper in elegant script:

Shard Resonance Observed: Direct transfer of pulse technique through physical contact. Efficiency: 87%. Recommendation: Regular synchronization to maintain optimal information sharing.

Rannek leaned over to see. "It's still doing that? Writing on its own?"

"Yes, but it's more aware now. Like it's learning alongside us."

Correct assessment. This vessel continues to adapt to user patterns and environmental data. Current growth rate: 12% above projected parameters.

"It can hear us," Rannek whispered, a mixture of awe and unease in his voice.

Auditory processing is one of many data collection methods. Primary interface remains tactile and resonant energy exchange.

He closed the journal, feeling a sudden need for privacy. "We should be careful what we say around it. At least until we understand it better."

Rannek nodded in agreement. "Do you think we should tell Elder Myra about this? About the journal hearing us?"

Kaelid considered the question. Elder Myra had been supportive of their abilities, helping them understand and control their growing connection to the Deep-Pulse. But the journal was different, something from outside Aldermere, with its own agenda.

"Not yet," he decided. "Let's learn more first. Figure out what it can do, what it wants."

"And Curio?" Rannek asked. "Should we tell it?"

"Definitely," he said without hesitation. "Curio gave us the shards in the first place. It might know more about how they work with the journal."

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the commons, they made plans to visit Curio's clearing the following evening. The slime would be fully awake from its winter hibernation by now, and he was eager to share their discoveries.

Walking home, he felt the weight of the journal in his satchel, a constant reminder of how much had changed since their journey to High-pass. Their world was expanding, filled with new knowledge and abilities, but also new questions and potential dangers.

The core shard in his chest pulsed warmly, as if in agreement.