Page 255 of Elemental Becoming

He closes his eyes.

“The body learns control.”

A pause.

“The spirit learns trust.”

I blink, turning the word over in my mind.

Trust?

I draw in a deep breath, settling into the familiar rhythm I learned at the outpost the first time I wielded more than one Element.

“Again.”

The world begins to narrow, but not in a way that feels confining. It feels focused. Intentional.

“The Elements,” he murmurs, “are not tools. They are not extensions of you. They are living forces. You cannot own them. You can only listen.”

My breath deepens.

I can feel it.

First the warmth of fire, pulsing low in my belly.

Then the flicker of air behind my ribs, featherlight.

The pull of water at the base of my spine, cool and gliding.

Earth steadfast beneath it all.

Valen speaks again, voice distant now, as if carried on a current.

“Don’t reach for them. Don’t pull. Let them flow through you.”

Counterintuitively, I let go of the grasping instinct. The need to draw. To hold. To use.

And in its place, something opens.

Magics stir.

But not the way I’m used to.

Fire doesn’t claw its way up my throat, wild and consuming. Wind doesn’t burst behind my ribs, desperate to escape. Water doesn’t surge through my bloodstream, crashing against every edge of control. Even earth, which can be resistant and heavy, rises beneath my skin to anchor me in place.

This is different. Effortless. Like floating down a slow-moving river.

Like the elements aren’t being summoned. They’re simply here, moving with me, not for me. Choosing to stay.

And I understand now why Valen insisted on each step—why stillness had to come before movement, why I had to learn to hold before I could flow. Without that foundation, this communion wouldn’t be possible.

A shiver of recognition runs down my spine.

“They were never yours to command,” Valen says, and now I can’t tell if I hear him aloud or if it’s my mind saying the words he would likely say. “They answer to those who honor them.”

The stillness holds.

Light.