The morning after his breakthrough, Nard stood in the training courtyard of the manor, his hands raw and blistered. The heavy physical labor of the estate was always used by his father, Rrejy, and his stepbrother, Ralph, as a tool of humiliation. Today was no different.
Under the scorching midday sun, Nard was tasked with moving heavy obsidian blocks—materials meant for tier 2 or 3 strength-enchanted servants—from the lower cellars to the main pavilion.
Rrejy stood on the balcony above, his cold, fierce eyes watching Nard's slow, deliberate struggle. "Look at him," Rrejy's voice carried over the courtyard, sharp and laced with disdain. "Maria's blood runs in his veins, yet he grovels under the weight of simple stone. A true Zaqor would have shattered these blocks with a single pulse of mana. You are a blemish on this family, Nard. Even the common servants look down on you."
Ralph, standing beside his father, let out a mocking chuckle. "Maybe we should get him a cart, Father. Or perhaps some wooden blocks? We wouldn't want him to break his delicate fingers."
Nard kept his eyes cast downward, his shoulders slumped in practiced defeat. But beneath his tunic, near his heart, the newly formed emerald-white core pulsed. Guided by the silent presence of Beru—who sat perched as a small, scarred bird on a nearby stone wall—Nard reached into that dense reservoir. He channeled an imperceptible, microscopic thread of light mana into his arms and legs, reinforcing his muscles.
To the onlookers, Nard appeared to be straining, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he lifted the massive block. In reality, the weight felt like feather and down. He moved the blocks one by one, keeping his face perfectly strained to maintain his pathetic facade, letting the mockery roll off him like water.
When the night finally fell, Nard retreated to the damp safety of the servant's passage. The small bird fluttered down and transformed in a flash of gold energy into Beru.
"You did well to hold your mask," Beru said, his deep baritone echoing softly in the cramped stone corridor. "But physical reinforcement is only the beginning. The light your mother gave you was not just a shield; it was a source of life. You must learn to heal as she did, but your light is currently too dense, too violent."
Beru picked up a half-dead, withered fern from the corner of the passage. "Channel your light into this leaf. But beware—if you let even a fraction of your raw power leak, you will incinerate it. You must soften the energy, turning the wildfire into a gentle spring rain."
Nard took a deep breath, kneeling before the fern. He reached into his heart, trying to draw out a thread of the emerald-white light. But as soon as the energy touched his fingertips, it crackled with raw, destructive intensity. The leaf he touched instantly blackened and crumbled into ash.
"Too harsh!" Beru reprimanded, his amber eyes flashing. "You are still treating the light like a weapon. Your mother did not fight the wounds; she embraced them. Do it again."
Hours passed in the suffocating dark. Nard's forehead was beaded with sweat, his mana pathways burning from the constant tension of compressing and then softening his power. Dozens of leaves were reduced to ash. The strain was agonizing, a slow, mental torture that made his vision blur.
"I can't soften it enough," Nard gasped, his hands trembling. "It's too dense. The core... it wants to burst."
"Then let it bend to your will!" Beru commanded, stepping closer. "If you cannot master the gentle aspect of your light, you will never heal the damage the Zaqors did to your core. You will remain a half-broken vessel. Control it, Nard!"
Nard closed his eyes, thinking of his mother's gentle grey eyes. He stopped trying to force the mana. Instead, he let his intent guide it, wrapping the raw white light in the soothing, cool emerald energy of Beru's restorative magic.
Slowly, the crackling stopped. A soft, warm, emerald-tinted glow flowed from his fingers, wrapping around a withered, dying leaf. Before his eyes, the brown, shriveled edges turned a vibrant, healthy green. The leaf unfurled, brimming with life.
Nard fell back against the stone wall, exhausted but victorious.
"Excellent," Beru whispered, reverting back into his bird form and landing on Nard's shoulder. "The spark is no longer hidden from you. Soon, it will be time to show them what a hollow shell can truly do."