Dawn crept over Mount Veyra like a hesitant guest, the sky bruised with clouds that churned above jagged peaks, their edges bleeding red with the threat of storms. Fin stirred in his hollow, the faint crackle of last night's fire now cold ash beneath his boots. The mountain's hum pulsed stronger today, a rhythm that stirred his mana, sharper, fiercer since the encounter with the glowing pool yesterday. It felt like a heartbeat now, resonating with something inside him that he'd spent years trying to suppress.

He flexed his fingers, watching the faint blue traces of energy dance between them before dissipating. Stronger, definitely stronger. And that was a problem.

Fin broke camp swiftly, scattering ashes with practiced efficiency and slinging his worn pack over his shoulders. The air bit his lungs, noticeably thinner than yesterday, and his patched cloak did little against the chill that sank deep into his bones. The Elemental Imprinting awaited those who reached the summit, but the mountain itself was the true test, weeding out those unworthy through cold, altitude, and beasts drawn to the elemental energies that saturated these heights.

As he eyed the trail ahead, a windswept ridge of cracked stone, moss clinging in defiant patches, exposed to gusts that howled like distant beasts. The peak loomed above, cloud-shrouded, its promise of the Elemental Imprinting both lure and taunt.

His Electromagnetic Perception swept the ridge in a steady pulse, mapping invisible currents that flowed through rock and air. The perception revealed no cliff hares today, no shadow wolves prowling the lower slopes, just the mountain's mana, swirling like a restless tide, stronger as he climbed higher.

Jaren's ambush yesterday still gnawed at him. Students weren't supposed to interfere with each other but that wouldn't stop any of the overzealous ones.

Neela's offer, too, lingered uncomfortably in his thoughts. Had he been reckless to refuse? Perhaps. But solitude was his shield. It allowed him to use his abilities without being watched.

Fin adjusted his pack, boots grinding against stone as he continued climbing. The ridge narrowed dangerously, wind now clawing at his cloak with vindictive force. He braced against sudden gusts that threatened to shove him into the void. The drop to his left plunged at least six hundred meters into mist-shrouded crags; a fall meant certain death.

His perception hummed along the ridge, then flared suddenly, sharp and urgent. A mana signature, massive and erratic, surged from upslope. Not human. Not even close to human. Mid-Tier Two, at least, possibly higher. His pulse spiked, hand dropping instinctively to his tantō. Elijah had warned that the mountain wasn't passive. Now it planned to test him before even reaching the peak.

A roar split the air, resonating through the stone beneath his feet, and Fin glimpsed it through a break in the clouds, a storm wyrm, its serpentine coils slicing through the mist, scales glinting obsidian in the fractured sunlight, lightning crackling along curved horns that crowned its wedge-shaped head. Twenty meters of raw elemental power, its yellow eyes locked on him, drawn by the mountain or perhaps by his own mana's distinctive pulse.

Fin's mind raced, bestiary lessons surfacing. Storm wyrms hunted by tracking prey's speed, struck with uncanny precision, their lightning capable of charring beast to ash in a flash. The ridge offered no cover, just bare stone and a sheer drop into nothingness. Running was suicide against a creature evolved to chase.

The wyrm dove, jaws wide enough to swallow a man whole, a lightning bolt trailing behind it like a comet's tail. Fin rolled right, stone scraping his shoulder painfully as the strike shattered the ridge where he'd stood, sparks showering around him, the air thick with the smell of burning stone. He sprang up, tantō drawn in a smooth motion.

The wyrm's tail lashed around, lightning arcing between its scales in a deadly lattice and Fin channeled more mana into Convergent Equilibrium, speed surging well beyond what a Tier One should be capable of. He leaped clear, sailing through the air to land ten meters back along the ridge, air sizzling where he'd stood just heartbeats before.

No hiding now. The wyrm twisted sinuously, yellow eyes narrowing at prey that moved too quickly, too unnaturally. It roared again, thunder made flesh, and charged, coils whipping around outcroppings of stone, shattering them like glass.

Fin settled into a fighting stance, tantō held in the traditional grip. He channeled Thunderfang into his sword. The blade flared white-hot, brighter than it had ever glowed before the pool's influence, its edge singing with contained power. It amplified beyond his expectations.

He dodged a snapping bite that would have taken his head, slashing upwards as the massive jaws passed, his tantō carving through scales that should have turned aside ordinary steel. Blood hissed where it touched the electrified blade, the beast shrieking in pain and surprise, and Fin pressed forward, weaving through its thrashing form with precision that spoke of years of training.

The wyrm bucked, wild arcs of lightning flailing from its wounded flank, and Fin rolled beneath its undulating body, striking upward at its throat where the scales were thinnest. His sword bit true, mana exploding outward at the point of impact, and the beast collapsed with a final, thunderous cry, its signature fading to silence in his perception.

Fin staggered back, chest heaving, blade dripping with steaming ichor. Ozone stung his nose, the ridge scarred with smoking cracks where lightning had struck. His tunic singed. He stood over the massive beast, tired but smiling.

Then his Electromagnetic Perception snapped outward, seeking any witnesses to his impossible victory, and caught one. A human signature, faint but unmistakable, positioned upslope, partially cloaked by an outcropping of rock. His stomach sank with dread.

Boots crunched deliberately behind him, and Fin turned. Neela stepped into view from behind a jumble of boulders, eyes sharp with certainty rather than shock. Her cloak bore ridge dust but she stood unruffled, as if she'd simply perched on a boulder and watched the entire battle unfold.

"Knew you were stronger than you let on, Aodh," she said, voice low but carrying clearly, cutting through the wind that whistled across the damaged ridge. "No Tier One drops a mid-Tier Two like that." Her eyes narrowed critically. "Especially not a year-one student."

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Fin sighed, wiping his blade clean on his cloak, the motion giving him a moment to compose himself, to mask his unease. "Doesn't matter," he muttered, sheathing the tantō and turning back toward the trail that continued upward. He stepped forward, hoping she'd let it go, but Neela's boots followed, her stride syncing with his across the uneven stone.

"How'd you move so fast?" she asked, her tone deliberately light but probing, like a blade testing for weakness. "No hesitation, slicing through that wyrm like it was nothing but paper. What's your trick?"

He kept walking, eyes fixed on the ridge's curve ahead, wind hissing through scraggly pines that had begun to creep back into view as they approached a more sheltered section of the mountain. Ignore her, and she'd tire of the game eventually. But Neela stayed close, her presence persistent, as relentless as the mountain itself.

"Your mana's changed too," she pressed, leaning slightly to study his profile. "Brighter, almost like it's... alive somehow. Something happened up here, didn't it? What did you find?"

Fin's jaw tightened involuntarily, her words grazing dangerously close to the cavern's secret, the luminescent pool he'd discovered, the strange black kitten with folded wings that had led him there, the surge of power he'd felt after immersion. "Nothing to tell," he said, voice clipped, deliberately lengthening his stride. The trail dipped into a forested slope, trees gnarled by constant storms, their needles creating a soft, whispering hiss overhead. Neela matched his pace effortlessly, undeterred.

"Come on, Aodh. You took down a storm wyrm like you've been fighting them all your life." Her voice held a teasing lilt, but her gaze remained serious, searching, peeling at his carefully constructed edges. "Nobody does that without training way beyond academy basics. You're hiding something big."

The trail twisted between enormous boulders, pines growing thicker, and Fin's patience frayed with each step she shadowed. He stopped abruptly, turning to face her, irritation finally boiling over. "Leave me alone, Neela," he snapped, voice cutting like a blade.

"You told me Jaren meant well, didn't you? Right before he tried to crush me with a rockslide. Forgive me if I don't trust your judgment, or you."

Neela froze mid-step, surprise flashing across her face, then doubt clouding her features. "Jaren attacked you?" Her brow furrowed deeply, voice rising in genuine confusion. "You're lying, he wouldn't, he's not…"

"I don't care what you think," Fin interrupted, stepping closer, blue eyes hard and shimmering like an angry storm. The mountain's energy seemed to resonate with his emotion, the air around them growing charged. "I said leave me alone."

She opened her mouth, words forming, "Aodh, wait!" but Fin turned sharply, striding into the forest, cloak snapping in the wind like an angry flag. Her voice chased him, softer now, almost concerned, but he didn't pause, his boots sinking into the carpet of pine needles as the trail began to climb steeply again. His perception tracked her signature, lingering indecisively where he'd left her, then gradually fading as she stopped following. Silence returned, heavy with unspoken questions, and Fin exhaled slowly, tension easing from his shoulders but not entirely gone.

The day pressed onward, sunlight filtering through clouds in occasional bright shafts as the forest thinned, the slope growing increasingly brutal, raw rock replacing trees, the air a cold knife in his lungs with each labored breath. Mount Veyra showed no mercy to climbers, especially this close to the zone where elemental energies grew wild and unpredictable.

He skirted danger where he could, his perception steering him past a fire salamander's glowing trail. A wind serpent's distinctive hiss echoed once through a narrow ravine, but he veered wide, giving its territory a respectful berth. The mountain's hum grew steadily stronger, manifesting in flashes of light at the edge of his vision, stones pulsing faintly with inner luminescence, the air warming then cooling in sudden, unpredictable bursts. It was alive, this mountain, its elemental heart beating closer with each exhausting hour of ascent.

By late afternoon, as shadows lengthened across the western slopes, Fin found a sheltered hollow, a crescent of rock cradled by stunted pines, the ground flat enough for a night's rest. He built a small fire with practiced efficiency, the familiar routine offering a small comfort as flames snapped and danced, dusk gradually painting the sky in deepening shades of violet. He ate sparingly, tough jerky, a handful of dried berries and nuts, rationing carefully for the days ahead. The peak felt tangible now, its pull sharper and more insistent, but the final climb would be the most grueling, each step a battle against exhaustion, doubt, and his own secrets.

Sitting cross-legged by the fire, Fin traced the tantō's hilt with his fingertips, its familiar weight somehow grounding him amid the mountain's strange energies. Every fight, every use of power, chipped away at his façade. The more power he gained from this mountain the harder it would become to maintain that deception.

Night fell completely, stars swallowed by thickening clouds, the fire's orange glow a lone defiance against the darkness. Fin wrapped his cloak tightly around himself, tantō placed carefully beside his makeshift bedroll, and gradually let sleep claim him, his perception maintained at a low level as a quiet guard against nocturnal predators. Dreams came swiftly, pulling him not into rest but something deeper, a vision that seized his consciousness whole.

He stood on a vast, barren plain, utterly alien to Veyra's forested slopes, the sky black with roiling storm clouds, lightning veining between them like burning silver rivers. An ancient mage faced him across this desolation, her form cloaked in silver-white robes that whipped in winds he could not feel, her staff a gnarled branch of some unknown wood crackling with barely contained power. Her eyes glowed white, piercing through distance, and Fin felt the weight of her mana, a torrent vast as the mountain's heart, ancient and terrible in its immensity.

Beyond her, across the plain, an army surged forward, thousands of soldiers in iron armor, banners whipping furiously, blades gleaming under the storm's intermittent glare. They charged as one, a tide of steel and battle-cries, and the mage merely raised her hand, a gesture of terrible simplicity.

Lightning answered her call, a cataclysm of white-hot bolts that struck simultaneously across the entire plain, shattering the army in an instant of blinding light. Men and metal burned together, earth charred to glass beneath them, sudden silence swallowing their cries. Fin's breath caught in his throat, awe and dread twisting together in his chest. The mage turned slowly, her ageless gaze locking with his across the devastation, and a whisper echoed through his mind, wordless yet perfectly clear: "Power is choice. Choose well." The plain faded around him, storm and ash dissolving into nothingness, and Fin woke with a gasping breath, heart hammering against his ribs, the hollow cloaked in pre-dawn gray.

He sat up quickly, the fire reduced to softly glowing embers and froze at what he saw. Amber eyes glowed at the hollow's edge, the same black kitten from the cavern, tiny wings folded against its back, watching him with unnerving stillness. No meow, no step closer, just that penetrating stare, sharp as the vision's lightning, cutting through the dawn's first diffuse light. Fin opened his mouth, a question forming, but the kitten turned abruptly, melting into the shadows between the pines, vanishing like a dream before he could speak.

He rose stiffly, stamping out the fire's remains, questions burning brighter than the dying coals. The kitten, the radiant pool, the ancient mage, pieces of a puzzle the mountain dangled before him, somehow tied to the Elementals or perhaps to something far older and more profound. Day three was done; day four stretched ahead, the peak's call louder now, its tests surely growing fiercer as he neared the summit. Fin shouldered his pack, tantō secure at his side, and stepped onto the trail once more.

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