The sky was still gray with the aftertaste of dawn when Kagami entered the secluded courtyard behind the Whimwood Instruction Hall. Carved from ancient granite and inid with runes from civilizations long buried, this pce was reserved for high-level elemental training—where real magic was born from old words.

  Master Rivel stood waiting, cloaked in a robe ced with copper and obsidian threads. Her presence, even calm, radiated authority.

  “No illusions today, Kagami,” she said. “Only reality—the weight of Earth and the strike of Thunder.”

  Kagami stepped forward, bowing slightly. “I'm ready.”

  Rivel raised her hand, palm glowing with etched sigils. “You are special, Kagami. Not just because of your jutsu... but because you can wield all elemental mana. Most mages are attuned to one—two at most. But you... your mana responds to all five. That’s what makes you different.”

  She stepped closer and pced her hand on the ground. The courtyard trembled, and a wall of living stone erupted, etched with spiraling glyphs.

  “Today, we start from two—Earth and Thunder. When you master both... I will introduce you to someone else who walks a path like yours.”

  Kagami tilted his head. “Someone like me?”

  Rivel smiled faintly. “Yes. One of the few in this country capable of using four elemental mana streams. My son.”

  Kagami’s eyes widened. “You have a son?”

  “Of course I do,” she said with a sigh. “He’s more talented than I ever was. That spark comes from his father’s bloodline.”

  Kagami’s voice softened. “So... where is your husband now?”

  Rivel’s smile faded, repced with something more distant. “He died ten years ago... in the War of Burning Peaks, fighting against the orc tribes who poured through the southern valleys. He bought time for the capital to shield its borders.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kagami murmured, bowing his head.

  Rivel shook herself gently. “That’s the past. My son and I carry what remains of him in our magic—and in our strength. Now come, no more sorrow. Earth first.”

  She stomped lightly and whispered a word—“Terralem.”

  A row of stone spears shot up, then spun into columns, then fttened into a training arena.

  “Try replicating that. Channel earth mana through your feet. Let the ground answer you.”

  Kagami closed his eyes. He pushed mana down from his chest to his legs, like chakra—but heavier. Deeper. He spoke the word she taught him, “Terralem.”

  A small tremor. A crack. One spike of stone lurched out from the dirt—and then colpsed in on itself.

  “Better than most on their first try,” Rivel said.

  The lesson continued for hours—till the sweat clung to Kagami’s back and his arms ached. When Earth gave way, they switched to Thunder.

  Rivel raised her hand and formed a whip of lightning, crackling with power. “Thunder isn't about brute force—it’s about control. It comes fast. You must guide it, or it consumes you.”

  Kagami nodded and copied her stance. His chakra sparked in his arms, and mana responded like static in the air. He spoke her word: “Fulgetros.”

  A fsh sparked between his fingers—just a flicker of lightning—but it danced with purpose.

  Rivel stepped back and watched him in silence.

  “You’re progressing faster than I expected,” she said. “When you’re ready, I’ll take you to meet my son. He’ll teach you the fourfold way.”

  Kagami paused, panting, eyes wide. “What’s his name?”

  Rivel gave a nostalgic smile.

  “Elias. Elias Rivelstorm. You’ll meet him soon.”

  And above them, the clouds shifted, as if something—or someone—was stirring in anticipation.