POWERS

The pearl of light that I had manifested shimmered.

Usasha watched, there was a faint smile on her lips.

“You're doing good, my child, now disperse it.”

The sphere dissolved back into the swirling vortex of raw creation energy.

Usasha spoke slowly.

“You've taken the very first step Arda!” She continued, “You've felt the flow, shaped the formless, and that is beautiful! However, creation is not merely about bringing things into being. It is also about understanding their essence, their structure, their weaknesses.”

Usasha stepped closer to the vortex, and she brushed its shimmering surface.

It was like the energies responded to her, and took a more defined form.
Slowly, the chaotic colours began to swirl into patterns, and formed light webs of sorts.

Usasha spoke once more;

“Your next challenge, my child, is to dig deeper! To perceive the foundation of this very reality. Every object, every being, every concept in existence is built upon this creative energy, that is beyond Terra. Dietha seeks to unravel this, to corrupt and distort them. To truly counter her, my child, you must be able to see the 'threads' of sorts that she attempts to cut, and just as importantly, to mend them. That is the true purpose of the hero in my eyes.”

I nodded, and felt a stir of determination.

“I think I understand… so this isn't just about offensive power per se, but also, uh, restoration?”

“Spot on Arda! It's not just about shaping, but perceiving!”

“Gotcha.”

Now that I think about it, it was like peeling an onion. You know, because onions have layers to them.

At first, there was only light and motion.

Then there were faint lines, and they seemed to be crisscrossing the energy.

As I concentrated harder, the lines solidified into literal patterns of pure information.

It was actually the raw, foundational language of creation itself.

“Woah”

“You've done it” Usasha said with a smile.

The sheer beauty of it was overwhelming.

I felt an immense sense of awe, and realized that everything I had ever known, every leaf on a tree, drop of water, and thought was created from these threads.

I saw the 'blueprint' of a simple stone, then a flower and the faint patterns that defined a living creature.

“Now, Arda, find a flaw. In this ever so perfect stream of creation, you will inevitably find imperfections, minor distortions. Focus on one, and then, correct it.”

This was much harder.

“This, my child, requires not just perception, but intervention.”

I scanned the glyphs, searching for the odd one out.

After a few moments, I found it.

It was a single, flickering glyph that seemed slightly out of place, otherwise barely noticeable.

I reached out, and nudged the glyph, guiding it back into its proper sequence.
As the glyph clicked back into place, the entire stream of creation energy seemed to shimmer with vitality!

“Excellent!”

Usasha's eyes were so bright, saying that.

“You've learned to mend the stitches within creation! This is a vital skill, Arda. Dietha destroys, but you, you restore. But now, let's explore the offensive aspect of this understanding.”

She waved her hand, and the swirling energies before me coalesced once more.

But this time, they formed an image of one of the obsidian-skinned demons I had fought at the core.

It pulsed with a faint, internal light.

It's 'blueprint' laid bare before my senses.

“This is the blueprint of a common demon, Arda,” Usasha explained. “Every living thing, even those born of corruption, possesses such a core structure. Dietha twists these, yes, but she does not create them from nothing. She is nigh like Erton. Now, perceive its weaknesses. Where are the flaws in its corrupted design? The points where its essence is weakest, most vulnerable to being unravelled.”

I focused.

I looked past the physical form of the demon, and dove into its 'blueprint'.
Likewise, I saw the dark, chaotic energies that fuelled it, but also the points where those energies were thin, stretched, or poorly connected.

“These are vulnerabilities, my child, the places where the corruption holds its least firm grip.” Usasha continued, “Now my child, disrupt it. Not with brute force, but with precise application of your understanding. Find a critical thread in its being and sever it.”

I focused on a nexus point where several dark energy conduits converged.

With this newfound will, I commanded the creation energy within them to focus on that single point.

The spectral demon flickered violently. 

The light wavered.

The glyphs that formed its being begun to unravel at the point I had targeted.

“Impressive! A word of caution though, the stronger the foe, the less likely it is for willing them to be deconstructed will work. You will have to use force to help will it into being.” Usasha continued, “Regardless, you have learned to dismantle what is already made, and that is amazing! This will be crucial against Dietha and her creations. Your understanding of creation and destruction will grow with you my child. This is all I can teach you.”

“Thank you Usasha.”

Meanwhile, Tulote had moved from reading to intense physical and mental exercises. 

He stood on a patch of ground that Usasha had conjured for him.
It was a miniature landscape of rocky terrain and rushing rivers.

He was pushing his body, his mind, and his newly acquired knowledge to their limits.

“Terra Flow,” he grunted.

He then slammed his palm onto a rock formation.

The ground beneath him vibrated, and he felt a surge of strength flow into his limbs.

He began moving, and to be frank, his movements were powerful and grounded. He practiced channelling Terra into his strikes.

Heck, the guy even started manipulating the surrounding earth to take up different forms, shields, weapons, and even a hat.

 The lessons on Endurance manifested not just as physical resilience, but literally an iron will, which was insane to me.

He subjected himself to simulated pressures, crushing weights, and overwhelming impacts. His skin, though still human, seemed to ripple, probably having to do with the world tree.
He was truly a tank.

In another corner of the vast space, Cassandra was literally dancing.
Her practice took the form of smooth movements against conjured illusions of demons, each one more formidable than the last.

Her grace was awe-inspiring.

With her book, she wasn't just hiding in the shadows any more; she became the shadow.
She could phase through solid objects, not by dematerializing, but by aligning her own energetic signature with the empty space between molecules. Usasha told me this, I'm not that smart.

She practiced Mastering Swift Blows, her movements being reduced to their absolute essential. 

Her blade found weak points in her illusory foes before they could even register her presence.

Her Shadow Tactics involved not just concealment, but manipulation. She could create illusions of herself, misdirecting her opponents, creating openings where none existed.

—

Two months here had passed.

“You have learned much, my children. But it is time for you to go. There is nothing more I can teach you.”

“Thank you mother” we said in unison.

She kissed as all on the forehead, and then everything faded away

We were in the rooted cavern once more.