SS rank Xalvathar: The Soulweaver

The morning air hung heavy with the chill of dawn, the barracks still thick with the quiet hum of deep, needed sleep as the trainees sprawled in their bunks. Suddenly, a sharp voice sliced through the silence, stirring the recruits into instant wakefulness.

"Get up, you miserable excuses for soldiers!" Ishara's voice reverberated through the barracks, sending a ripple of alarm among the still half-conscious trainees.

Liyana, bleary-eyed and barely awake, mumbled from beneath her blanket, "Sir... just one more minute…"

Ishara's gaze snapped to her, eyes narrowing with icy precision. "One more minute? Do you think time waits for you?" His tone was biting, unforgiving.

Realizing her blunder, Liyana's eyes shot open as she shot upright. Her thoughts raced—she had just made a grave mistake. "No, sir! We're up!" she replied, her words tumbling out in a frantic rush.

But Ishara wasn't so easily appeased. "Too late, Liyana," he said coldly. "Since you're so desperate to sleep, you'll work twice as hard as anyone else today."

A heavy silence settled over the barracks as the other recruits exchanged wary glances, their eyes darting from Liyana to Ishara. Her stomach sank as she braced herself for the consequences of her lapse in judgment. She knew all too well that in Ishara's world, any misstep meant punishment.

"Move it," Ishara barked, his voice biting through the stillness. "Or you'll regret ever opening your eyes."

As Liyana scrambled to prepare, the rest of the recruits quickly assembled, their movements swift and practiced. They knew today would be long and grueling, but for Liyana, it would be twice as punishing. She cursed herself silently for allowing a single moment of weakness to get the better of her.

The trainees lined up, ready for the grueling training ahead. Zanele couldn't help but chuckle, her tone light but tinged with mischief. "Liyana, how did you manage to mess up that badly?" she teased, a smirk tugging at her lips.

Liyana, still red-faced and mortified, shrugged sheepishly. "I was so tired... I just needed one more minute."

Takumi, who had overheard, stepped forward cautiously. "Liyana, Zanele—" he began, but before he could continue, Zanele tried to slip away, only to be stopped by Haruto, who firmly blocked her path.

"You two need to talk," Haruto insisted, his voice resolute as he placed a hand on Zanele's shoulder.

Takumi's voice softened as he turned to Zanele. "I know I messed up," he said, his eyes filled with genuine remorse. "I'm your big brother. I should have known better... I'm really sorry."

To the surprise of everyone, Takumi dropped to his knees, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please, don't hate me. I promise, I'll never hurt you again. I'm so sorry."

Zanele's eyes softened, her gaze taking in his pleading expression. "You promise?" she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," Takumi affirmed, his tone steady and sincere.

Zanele, moved by his apology, helped him to his feet, a small but genuine smile forming on her lips. "Then stand up," she said gently. "You're my big brother... don't kneel." Her eyes brightened with forgiveness. "I forgive you."

Relief flooded Takumi's face, and before Zanele could say anything else, he pulled her into a tight embrace. "You're the best sister in the world," he murmured, gratitude overflowing.

Before the moment could stretch further, Ishara's sharp clap broke the tension. "Enough chit-chat! This is training, not a social gathering. Line up—now. Or I'll have you feeding the lions outside."

The group scrambled to form a line, and Ishara surveyed them with his usual expression of indifference. "Today, we're focusing on mental training," he announced, his voice carrying across the courtyard. "Some of you may wonder how one trains the mind. It's simple: Vera is life energy. And if any of you have even an ounce of intelligence, you should understand what that means."

Amandla, barely containing her frustration, muttered under her breath, "Stop calling us low-lifes, old man."

Ishara's eyes flashed with amusement, a cruel smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "Ah, feeling bold today, are we? Well, if you're so full of energy, perhaps you won't need dinner tonight."

Amandla's lips pressed into a thin line, but she kept her retort to herself, silently vowing to grow stronger so she could one day make him pay for every insult.

"Now, as I was saying," Ishara continued, unfazed, "Vera is life itself. It's the energy that flows through all living things, the spark that ignites the cycle of existence. To strengthen it, you must first learn to meditate—properly meditate, not just sit like stones. Close your eyes and focus on the moment of life's birth. Picture the first breath of a newborn, the opening eyes of a cub. Feel the spark of life grow, feel it within you. That is how Vera expands, through understanding and sensation."

Zanele raised her hand. "So, we're supposed to think about the birth of life, like a baby?"

Ishara shook his head, visibly frustrated. "It's more than just thinking, Zanele. You must feel it. Truly experience the birth of life in your mind. Feel the first breath, the heartbeat, the cry of the newborn. Your mind should not merely picture it; it must live it. Only then will you begin to understand the essence of Vera."

The recruits exchanged uncertain glances, their minds processing Ishara's words. After a long pause, Takumi nodded slowly. "I think I understand," he murmured, his voice thoughtful.

Ishara's gaze softened slightly, a rare nod of approval. "Good. Then begin."

Takumi sat cross-legged, eyes closed as he concentrated on the memory of his sister's birth. At first, his mind simply replayed the event in images, but as he focused harder, he felt the memory deepen, the sensations intensifying. For a moment, he felt as if he were back in that moment, the emotions and energy of life flowing through him. Ishara raised an eyebrow, impressed by the surge of power radiating from Takumi's body. "So, you truly understand," he muttered, his voice tinged with surprise.

To Ishara's shock, Takumi's magical energy manifested in an unusual shade of black—not the typical blue or white—but a deep, almost foreboding hue. Takumi opened his eyes, blinking in confusion. "Did I do it?" he asked, and the others nodded in stunned amazement.

"You did it!" they exclaimed in unison.

Not to be outdone, Haruto stepped forward, a determined look on his face. "I can't let my junior steal the spotlight," he declared with a grin. He settled into a cross-legged position and focused intently on his own memory: the birth of his little sister, just a year old. As he concentrated, his own life energy flowed outward, manifesting as a brilliant blue aura.

Next was Zanele. She closed her eyes, her mind focused on the flower she had nurtured from seed to full bloom. Her aura blossomed in a vibrant red, pulsing with the energy of her emotions—joy and frustration alike.

Liyana followed, thinking of her pet's first moments, feeling a deep connection to its innocent beginnings. Her aura radiated a bright, steady white, pure and calm.

Finally, Amandla sat in silence, her thoughts turning inward to her younger brother. To the surprise of the others, two distinct auras emerged from her—green and yellow. Ishara's eyes widened in recognition. The green represented life and compassion, while the yellow was the color of selflessness and care for others.

Ishara nodded, a rare flicker of approval in his gaze. "Well done, everyone. You've all tapped into your Vera. Now, let's move on to the next stage—learning how to use it."