Fragmented Light

Chapter 13: Paths

Nothing.

Think about nothing.

Think about absolutely nothing at all.

Except maybe breakfast.

No - nothing.

But breakfast would be really good right now.

Lyra sat cross-legged in Sanctum's practice chamber, early morning light painting patterns across her closed eyelids. Fifteen days of training had taught her body, if not her mind, how to find stillness. Even if that stillness was currently wondering what kind of weird color-that-shouldn't-exist food would be served today.

Nothing. Focus on nothing.

Her channels hummed softly, golden light occasionally flickering beneath her skin in patterns that never quite repeated themselves. Not the raw fire of her early attempts, but something more... contained. Not controlled exactly - she wasn't sure her power would ever be truly "controlled" - but... guided. Like a mining charge carefully placed instead of just thrown at problems.

Nothing. Empty mind. Totally empty.

Except maybe those fruit things from yesterday that tasted like sunshine probably shouldn't taste.

No. Nothing.

The chamber's crystals sang quiet harmonies, their resonance matching something deep in her newly formed channels. She could feel them now, the paths power wanted to follow. Not the traditional eight patterns Adran had described, but something... different. Something older maybe. Or newer. Or—

Nothing. Think about nothing.

Her breathing settled into proper rhythm. Her channels quieted. Even her perpetual hunger faded to background noise as she finally, finally found that elusive point of perfect stillness.

And then—

...find your way to...

The voice whispered through her meditation like crystal song, familiar yet strange. Her channels surged in response, golden light trying to answer a call she didn't understand.

...the light needs...

"No no no," she muttered as power built unwanted in her chest. "Not now. We were doing so well with the whole 'not exploding' thing—"

...retake what you...

Golden fire erupted from her skin, not in the careful patterns she'd been learning but in pure, raw response to that whispering voice. Her channels burned as power sought paths that shouldn't exist, trying to answer something that spoke of both ancient memory and future possibility.

"Dammit!" She scrambled to her feet, breaking meditation stance entirely. "Not doing this. Not exploding before breakfast. That's a rule now. We have rules about exploding and breakfast timing."

The power subsided reluctantly, leaving her channels aching and her mind racing. That voice... she'd heard it before, hadn't she? During her delirious journey to Sanctum. During fever-dreams of light and purpose.

"Great," she muttered, pacing to work off excess energy. "I'm hearing voices. Because that's exactly what I need right now."

But something about the voice had felt... right. Like it knew her channels better than she did. Knew what paths her power should follow, if she could just—

"No." She cut that thought off firmly. "No overthinking before breakfast. Also a rule. I'm making a lot of rules this morning."

The practice chamber's crystals hummed with what felt suspiciously like sarcastic amusement. Outside, frost patterns formed briefly on the windows before retreating, as if even the void-mathematics were laughing at her attempts at self-discipline.