Ashtoria had never trained anyone before. So when Riven asked her to teach him to become a Lawbearer, her first instinct was to refuse. Not because she doubted her ability to teach, but because she did not believe an ordinary person could ever walk that path. Yet something in Riven held her back from rejecting him outright. Curiosity, perhaps.

And in the end, Ashtoria decided to train him—if only for a while.

She did not regret it… but the doubt lingered. Could someone like Riven, a mere commoner, truly become a Lawbearer?

Everyone knew talent was the foundation. Without it, the path was closed. Even then, talent varied. Some were born brimming with it, others barely had a trace. That was why the nobility always tested their children from a young age, so that resources could be distributed accordingly. Those found lacking were discarded, abandoned like weeds in the field.

So where did the siblings stand?

How much talent did they possess?

Ashtoria did not know.

She lifted her gaze, watching as Riven staggered toward her.

“…I’ve done it. All of it.” His voice was hoarse, his chest heaving as he lay sprawled across the grass. “Now… will you teach me… how to absorb mana?”

Sweat drenched his face and neck. The last light of dusk glinted on his skin, highlighting both his exhaustion and the fierce determination burning beneath it.

Ashtoria turned toward him. Her crimson eyes flickered faintly. She did not answer right away. For a long moment, she simply looked at him, lying there on the grass, spent and vulnerable.

“Rest first,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. “Wait until your body cools down.”

Riven gave a wordless nod. He closed his eyes, forcing his heartbeat to slow. The evening wind brushed over him, carrying the scent of earth and leaves. For a moment, there was peace.

But something disturbed it.

A stare.

Riven could feel it. Unwavering, piercing, studying every line of his face. He opened his eyes slowly and turned his head.

Ashtoria was watching him. Deep. Intense. Her gaze did not merely see; it seemed to strip away layers, digging toward the core of his being. Her scarlet hair fluttered in the breeze, her pale face sharpened in contrast, untouchable and unreal.

Riven’s throat went dry. He shifted, trying to cover his discomfort with a joke.

“Do I have dirt on my face?” His lips curved into a thin smile. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Ashtoria blinked slowly. She tilted her head slightly, as if weighing her answer. At last, she said with quiet honesty, “There’s nothing wrong with your face.”

The answer explained nothing. Riven frowned, a little annoyed. To retaliate, he leaned closer, staring back at her with equal intensity, studying her features in return.

Her skin was pale, almost white as snow—yet it was not cold. It was like marble carved by divine hands, flawless and precise. Her lips were red, glistening, like petals wet with dew. Lips that seemed to invite him to…

Unconsciously, Riven swallowed hard.

He quickly looked away. Her face was serene, untroubled, untouched by time or pain. Yet he knew that was a lie. Her long red hair spilled loose, wild yet strangely elegant, as though each strand carried its own artistic intention. And then… her eyes.

Eyes like living rubies. Deep and sharp, yet holding both hollowness and eternity. Eyes that were now staring directly into him.

Riven fell still.

The world went silent.

The chirping of crickets, the rustle of leaves, even the pounding of his own blood seemed distant. Only their locked gazes remained, bound together by a fragile, vanishing space.

Until—

“HEEEY!”

A rasping voice shattered the silence.

Riven and Ashtoria turned at once.

Melly stumbled out from the bushes. Her long black hair was a tangled mess, her face weary as though she had just survived a battle. She moved with a dragging gait, like a zombie barely clinging to life.

“What is going on here,” she mumbled flatly, “why are you two staring at each other like the world disappeared? You’ve been doing that for like… twenty minutes. I thought you both died standing up.”

She dropped heavily onto the grass between them, sending blades swaying. With a long sigh, she shut her eyes and muttered under her breath, “If you’re going to be romantic, at least don’t do it in front of people.”

Riven turned his face away at once, coughing to hide the sudden flush on his cheeks. Ashtoria remained outwardly calm, eyes lifting toward the fading orange sky. Yet her fingers, brushing the grass, shifted with restless unease.

The sky deepened, orange slowly giving way to twilight blues and purples. One by one, stars blinked into existence. The air grew cooler, carrying the damp scent of earth and the quiet tremor of the coming night.

For a while, the three of them sat in silence, letting the world speak for them.

At last, Riven broke it.

“Now… can you teach me how to absorb mana?”

Ashtoria turned her head slowly. She gave the faintest nod. “I can. But before that…” She straightened, her crimson gaze sharp and unyielding. “Do you know the ranks of the Lawbearer?”

Riven thought hard. “What I know… the lowest rank is called Seeker. Then comes Adept, and after that, Master. Beyond that, I don’t know.”

Melly lazily raised her hand. “I’ve never even heard of any of this until now.”

Ashtoria inclined her head, acknowledging, before looking between the two of them. Her voice was steady, calm yet weighty.

“As you said, the lowest rank is Seeker,” she explained. Her words were quiet but clear, carrying a gravity that drew their full attention. “Do you know why it’s called Seeker?”

Riven and Melly exchanged glances, then shook their heads.

“Because at that stage, one begins to seek, seeking deeper understanding of oneself.”

Her gaze darkened as she studied them. The evening wind passed through her hair, casting her like a living shadow framed in the last light of the sun.

“Every object and living being is a part of this world. And this world, in turn, is connected to every creature that lives within it. But that connection isn’t uniform. Every person resonates with the world in their own way. Be it through elements, concepts, or essence.”

She paused before continuing.

“For example… someone may have a connection to fire. If their bond or affinity with fire is deep and strong, then one day they might be able to summon a blaze powerful enough to burn down a city. But if that connection is distant and weak, they might only be able to spark a small flame. Or… simply have a body that tolerates heat better than most people.”

She lifted her gaze, glancing at Riven and Melly in turn.

“That bond is called Affinity. And the strength of your bond, your ability to resonate with it, is what we call talent.”

Riven and Melly listened intently, mentally taking note of every word, absorbing the explanation slowly, like dry soil welcoming the first rain.

Ashtoria’s voice lowered, as if weaving a quiet incantation.

“There is a phrase often spoken of those who are Seekers…”

She closed her eyes briefly, letting silence settle.

“Do not seek outward. Seek within yourself.”

The words made Riven’s skin prickle. Simple, yet they echoed in his mind as though a stranger’s whisper brushed against his ear. He thought of the mysterious dreams that sometimes haunted him.

“You begin to hear faint whispers of the Law… of the affinity buried within you. Those whispers do not come from outside, but from within, something long dormant, waiting to awaken and connect to the world.”

Her crimson gaze swept from Melly to Riven.

“And your task now…” she breathed out slowly, her words carrying the weight of command.

“…is to discover your own affinity.”

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