INFUSIONS EDGE

The quiet of Kael's room pressed down on Adam. The deep chime of the evening bell still vibrated faintly in his bones. Above, Storm slept, a warm weight radiating peace. Control it. Your emotions. Your reactions. For his sake. Kael's words were a cold imperative. The phantom scent of singed wool, the memory of blue-white lightning cracking from Storm, anchors to the now, the cost of failure. He sat on the bunk's edge, blanket rough under his palms.
He opened Draconis Minor: Physiology and Symbiosis. The page showed intricate cross-sections beneath Storm's scales. Clusters near his spine: "Electrostatic Nodes" and "Resonance Organs". The text was stark: intense human emotions excited the fragile nodes, causing discharges. Sustained surges risked burnout, bond fraying, death. Storm was a conduit forced to channel Adam's storm. Control was oxygen.
Morning dawned grey, mist clinging to stone. Adam's schedule read: Ability Development, Instructor Blythe, Hall of Resonance.
Mana. Control. Finally.
The Hall was a vast circle of seamless, pale stone. A low, pervasive hum vibrated through Adam's boots, setting his teeth on edge. The air felt thick. Rows of wooden stools faced a central dais. Storm trilled, the sound swallowed by the thrum.
Instructor Blythe stood motionless. Calm grey eyes surveyed students. Silver streaked her dark hair, knotted severely. Grey robes hung unwrinkled. An anchor. About twenty students gathered. Adam saw Lira, unusually still, near the front. Kael sat alone near the back wall, dark eyes fixed on Blythe, offering no recognition.
"Be seated," Blythe's soft voice cut the hum. "Focus on the resonance. Feel its rhythm. Bedrock." Adam sat on a hard stool. He closed his eyes. Vibration seeped into his bones. The warmth in his core stirred sluggishly, discordant with the stone's song.
"Today," Blythe swept the room with her gaze, "we lay the foundation of armament infusion. Channeling raw mana into a physical vessel, a weapon, to temporarily enhance it, forging an extension of your will." She gestured to racks holding dull practice daggers and short swords. "True combat infusion is complex. Today, only the first thread: creating a stable conduit. Draw mana. Hold it. Direct it into the material. Sustain the flow."
She lifted a plain iron dagger. "The object resists. Metal is passive, asleep. Your will must awaken it, overcome inertia, saturate it until it resonates." She raised the dagger, gripping the hilt firmly. "Draw mana. Gather it within your grasp, focused on the point of contact, flesh meets steel." Her fingers closed.
For heartbeats, nothing. Then Adam felt it, subtle condensation of energy centered on her hand. A deep, focused pressure. Slowly, soft opalescent light seeped from between her fingers, crawling into the dull iron. Not surface fire; pure mana saturating from within. The entire dagger hummed, harmonizing, glowing with steady internal radiance. Deceptively simple.
"This," Blythe held the luminous dagger aloft, "is the essential transfer. Unshaped potential within the vessel. Your will is the pump. Focus is the seal. Lose focus, energy bleeds. Force it, energy shatters the vessel." The glow held unwavering. "Take a blade. Grip solidly. Draw mana. Feel the metal's profound resistance. Overcome with steady pressure. Saturate. Sustain."
Students moved. Adam selected a cold, inert short sword. He sat, blade across his knees. Kael took a dagger, silent.
Adam closed his eyes. He reached for the core warmth, pulled a thin thread of energy down his arm, gathering in his palm. He focused on pushing it into the steel at the hilt. Dense, cold inertia met him. He pushed mentally.
A faint, flickering shimmer appeared near the hilt, like heat haze. It sputtered. Sweat beaded on Adam's brow. Knuckles whitened. He eased the frantic push. Steady pressure. Saturate. Storm's sleep, the consequences. He refined focus: a constant stream. Mana as water, seeping into resisting steel. The shimmer steadied. A thin, pale line of light stabilized, extending another inch, glowing weakly within the metal. Contained. Sustained. Effort monumental.
He glanced. Lira held her dagger lightly, blade suffused with rippling deep blue light pulsing like deep water. Others flickered weakly or sat dark. His gaze found Kael.
Kael held his dagger loosely. No light. The metal seemed, denser. Profoundly still, absorbing light. Air shimmered subtly where it touched his palm. Only profound silence. Kael's focus was a palpable force. His scar stood stark.
"Good," Blythe murmured, gliding between stools. Her eyes noted Adam's weakly glowing third of the blade, lingered almost imperceptibly on Kael's shadow-dagger. "Sustain. Feel mana resonate within steel. It pushes against confinement. You are the gatekeeper. Steady flow." She paused by a student with a wildly flickering blade. "Refine pressure. Do not force. Guide."
Adam focused back. Merely holding the thin light steady was draining. Trapped energy pushed against its prison. He deepened his breath, focused on the gentle, persistent push from core to steel. The glow held.
"Now," Blythe instructed, "Extend saturation. Slowly. Inch by inch. Feel untouched resistance. Overcome with steady will."
Adam willed the stream forward. Like driving a needle through cold wax. The light stuttered violently. Panic flared, dampened. He held focus, urging with relentless, gentle pressure. Millimeter by agonizing millimeter, the light crept. Sweat dripped from his chin. Storm shifted minutely, a pulse of shared focus echoing faintly.
A sharp PING! A gasp. Adam looked up. A student recoiled, clutching his hand. His dagger lay cracked on the floor, wisps of mana dissipating.
"Containment failure," Blythe stated, moving swiftly. "Will wavered. Focus fragmented. Energy surged, fracturing conduit inside metal. Control the flow. The weapon is your nascent partner. Respect its limits." Her gaze swept, pausing on Adam's struggle, then Kael.
Kael's dagger remained unchanged, a solid sliver of contained shadow. Utterly infused. No visible strain.
Adam looked down. A meager third glowed faintly. Insignificant next to Blythe or Kael. Yet forcing his will into cold steel, sustaining that fragile connection without shattering it, felt like his hardest test. The physical manifestation of control. The first step to wielding power without endangering the warm weight on his shoulder. He glanced at Kael's shadow-dagger, then his own light. The path was narrow, demanding relentless focus, brick by agonizing brick. The lesson had only just begun.
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