"Good night my disciples." Alexander said before leaving.

Celebration was minimal as the stress of the day had taken a heavy toll on the three youths. Thomas and Frey helped Elero into her wheelchair and rolled her to the base of the stairs. "I don't suppose that you have recovered much of your strength, have you?" Thomas asked. Frey just picked Elero up wheelchair and all.

A few minutes later, the three were met with a servant, who escorted them into the house for a meal, bath, and a short tour which ended at the sleeping quarters. A servant helped Elero into one of the beds while Frey had to curl himself to fit in another. A few minutes later, Elero had passed out.

Frey, however, was still awake and staring at Thomas over by the window. The house was oddly silent without Alexander's constant ordering and screaming. The only indications of life outside of the house were the various, distant nocturnal creatures' calls over at the training grounds. So naturally, Frey found it jarring that Thomas kept fiddling with a strange device that clacked, clicked, and rattled. "Aren't you going to go to sleep?" he whispered, barely holding his eyes open. "What is that anyway?"

"Don't worry about it," Thomas said, stowing the device away in his spatial ring. "Sorry to keep you up."

"Aren't you tired?" Frey leaned into his soft pillow. "We fought and trained so much."

Thomas didn't even have bags under his eyes. He opened and closed his hand, which was covered in some sort of black powder. "I don't know. I'm tired but I don't feel like sleeping. It's just cold, and I'm kind of hungry."

"Whatever," Frey sighed. "Just be quiet." He drifted off to sleep. "Good night."

"Good night." Thomas stared at his friend for a couple more minutes before he shambled into his own bed. An hour passed until he finally felt himself drifting away into a cold unconsciousness. Dreams, they usually came to him. Not tonight.

It was just darkness before eventually waking for the first official day of training.

Thomas half expected to be thrown into training as soon as one of the servants woke him up but it was just a late breakfast, and a rather large one at that. "Eat up." Alexander said, having to lean over his stack of pancakes to be able to see them. "You'll need the energy for today." He kept eating while looking over a map and making occasional marks. "Send this to the men stationed at the northern border." Alexander had told the servant, who bowed and rushed off.

Of everyone, Thomas ate the fastest, destroying a mountain with his mighty fork and knife. Frey was a close second, ripping and tearing. Elero was very quiet as she looked at her two muffins and scrambled eggs.

"Something wrong?" Thomas asked in between bites.

Elero shook her head as if to come out of her thoughts. "Can I get some more food?"

Alexander shook his head. "You need to recover, so you don't need energy to get you through the day. You're not moving at all."

"Can I get seconds?" Thomas asked.

Alexander shook his head. "You need energy. Too much will just slow you down."

Thomas and Frey exchanged looks. "Speaking of slowing down," Frey said. "Yesterday when we were training, we both kind of slowed down. I still had energy but my body wouldn't listen to me."

"Oh that," Alexander said, looking away from the various papers on his part of the dinner table. "It's because you were hopeless." Frey and Thomas deflated. "Does Flow mean anything to the two of you?" Elero kept fiddling with her eggs, uncaring of the conversation.

Both Frey and Thomas shook their heads, resulting in a long sigh from the general. He muttered: "Jameson, you useless disciple. The next time I see you I'm going to knock your lights out." He sighed again. "Frey, Thomas, did you hear it? That voice inside of your heads?" The duo's eyes widened. Alexander smiled. "Good. This will make my explanation shorter."

Four hours ago…

When everyone was asleep, Elero opened her eyes and silently wheeled herself out of the house. After making her way into the oasis, she took out her training sword and reformed her legs with life essence. She walked along the lake and eventually found a good tree to smack.

Before she began, she looked down at her hands. 'Maybe I'll be fine if I don't rely on that voice. I can't just sit still. That's not me.'

She let her movements guide her. She struck the trunk with a sharp thud. A few green leaves fluttered down from the swaying branches. She adjusted her footing and struck again. The rhythm of sword strikes drowned out the extraneous noise in her head, until that voice spoke to her. 'Strike.'

…

"The Flow," Alexander continued. "Or some people call it a voice, instinct, there are a lot of names but I prefer the Flow. It speaks to knights who delve into battle with a passion for violence. It is our base instincts, a deep willpower buried in everyone. It gets stronger the more you train. Think of it like a rushing tide that sweeps you along. Through its teachings you can accomplish incredible feats such as moving the body slightly before the thought even occurs, override the body's fatigue, or push the mind beyond its limits."

…

'Again,' The voice said. Elero would have wanted to stop herself but habit had wiped away her thoughts. Her training sword split the bark and dug into the trunk. 'Tighten your grip.' Blistered hands wrapped tight around the weapon's hilt. Veins bulged. Each strike sent beads of sweat and splintered wood to the ground. "Two hundred and sixty-six." Whack. "Two hundred and sixty-seven." Whack. "Two hundred and sixty-eight." Whack. "Two hundred and sixty…" She halted and let her training weapon drop to the ground.

She let out a long sigh and picked her sword up. 'Bad habits are hard to break. I know that but the more I practice the harder it seems to break away from it. I just need to focus.'