Part 2.4 — Training Before the Fog
By midday, the forest had changed.
Trees grew closer together, light dimmer, air wetter. Somewhere ahead, Whisperfen waited beneath fog and rumor—but Lenora stopped in a clearing first, where the ground was flat and the trees formed a ring.
“We train,” she said.
Derpy blinked. “Right now?”
“Right now,” Lenora repeated, marking a boundary with a strip of cloth. “If Celica’s Embers is using you as a compass, we need to know what triggers it. Heat. Pain. Direction. Emotion. The book doesn’t get to surprise us again.”
Derpy held his wrists out. The yellow bracelets looked harmless in daylight.
They weren’t.
Lenora circled him, ears twitching, eyes sharp. “Touch the book.”
Derpy hesitated. “It burned last time.”
“I know,” Lenora said. “Controlled.”
Derpy reached into his bag and brushed the book’s cover.
The bracelets warmed—gentle at first, then sharper, like a warning.
Lenora nodded. “Good. Pull away.”
Derpy did. The heat faded.
“So it reacts to proximity,” Lenora murmured. “Now—spar.”
Derpy’s eyes widened. “Spar? I don’t even—”
“You don’t have to win,” Lenora cut in. “You have to learn what your body does under pressure.”
Mia sat at Derpy’s heel, alert. Sphinx perched on his shoulder, tail flicking.
Lenora drew her sword and moved—fast, controlled. A feint. A step-in. A strike that stopped an inch from Derpy’s chest.
Derpy stumbled back, heart hammering.
The bracelets warmed again.
Lenora’s gaze sharpened. “There. Fear is a trigger.”
Derpy swallowed. “That’s… not great.”
“Then we fix it,” Lenora said. “Breathe. Watch my shoulders. Not my blade.”
Derpy forced air into his lungs.
Lenora attacked again—two clean strikes.
Derpy ducked the first, panicked on the second, and threw his hands up.
Yellow flashed black.
The air hissed.
Frostburn formed over his hands—black gauntlets venting cold like breath, frost curling off the knuckles.
Derpy froze. “Oh no.”
Lenora’s eyes widened—then sharpened with focus. “Good. Now we know.”
She pointed at a fallen log. “Hit that.”
Derpy made a face, then punched.
Ice spiderwebbed across the wood, freezing it solid in seconds.
Derpy stumbled back, horrified.
Lenora stared, impressed despite herself. “Controlled output. Not random.”
Derpy’s voice went thin. “Still terrifying.”
Lenora sheathed her sword. “Welcome to this world. Now—walk. Let’s see if it settles.”
Derpy took a few steps. Frostburn softened back into yellow bracelets.
He exhaled shakily.
Lenora nodded once. “Whisperfen is south. We get information there.”
Derpy looked at her like he was trying to decide if she was saving him or recruiting him.
Lenora met his eyes for half a second.
Her face went full pink—instant, unforgiving.
She snapped her gaze away like it burned, ears stiff, voice turning extra-flat on purpose. “Move.”
They started walking.
The fog ahead looked like a mouth.