Virtus The keys of Desire

Days blurred together as Cire fell into a grueling routine: waking up, washing up, sparring until his muscles screamed, and hunting with Byru in the evenings. It was the hunt that kept him sane. The adrenaline of the chase and the exhilaration of working in sync with Byru made him feel alive. Together, they brought down lockless creatures of all shapes and sizes. Each beast had its unique fighting style, but Cire and Byru adapted quickly, thriving in their partnership. Byru's small, glowing heart pulsed with greater intensity after every hunt, her Virtus growing stronger as she absorbed the remnants of their defeated prey.

Yet, as Byru grew stronger, Cire began to feel stagnant. Sparring sessions with Praesul were battles against an unstoppable force, a reminder of the chasm between them. Every swing of his dagger felt like throwing stones at a mountain. Frustration gnawed at him, but instead of wallowing, Cire doubled down on the basics. He practiced every stance and strike meticulously, absorbing Virtus with unwavering focus. For a month and a half, he repeated this cycle, his days consumed by the grind.

But he couldn't close the gap no matter how much effort he poured in. Praesul remained untouchable, his movements effortless and fluid. Watching him fight felt like observing the wind—unpredictable, intangible, and untiring.

Sitting outside his room by the waterfall, Cire meditated, letting the rush of water fill the silence. He clenched his fists in frustration, his mind racing. 'What's the difference? Is it because he holds a key? Maybe multiple keys?' The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he quickly dismissed it.'No. Praesul is strict, sometimes unreasonable, but he's not unfair. Every challenge he's set has been grueling but achievable.'

He inhaled deeply, letting the sound of the waterfall steady his thoughts. His gaze fell to the ground, where his dagger rested beside him. 'What am I missing? Cire ran through every fight in his mind, focusing on his movement and then on Praesul's the way he shifted his weight, how his strikes flowed seamlessly, his breathing calm even in the midst of battle.

It's not just about my movements—it's about understanding his. The realization hit him like a wave, and he sat upright, his breathing quickening. 'Praesul isn't just testing my strength. He's testing my ability to anticipate and adapt. He wants me to feel his intent, to predict his next move.'

Byru, resting beside him in the form of a sleek serpent, stirred slightly, her star-like eyes glimmering as she observed him. Cire's thoughts shifted to the mark on his chest—the mark of Wish. He stared at the faint shimmer of violet light pulsing through his shirt, his mind racing.

'The mark reacts to desires… to intent. Every time I've felt it activate, it's been tied to a craving, a wish, or an emotion.' He grinned, the pieces falling into place.'That's it. My heart vibrates when I feel danger—not just any danger, but the desire of another to harm me. That's what triggers it!'

Byru's eyes locked with his, sensing his sudden clarity. He reached out and gently stroked her shimmering scales. "Byru," he said, his voice steady, "try and hurt me."

The serpent tilted her head, her expression almost questioning. Cire smirked. "Come on, girl. Do it. And by the way, I don't like your snake form. It's ugly."

A ripple of red flashed in his mind—a surge of irritation from Byru. She shifted instantly, her sleek serpent body giving way to the wolf pup she often favored. This time, however, she looked slightly larger, her presence more imposing. She growled low, her playful irritation turning serious.

Cire stepped back, his heart pounding with anticipation. He drew in Virtus, focusing it on his senses. Byru shot forward, her movements fluid and deliberate. Her glowing eyes locked on him, and her fangs gleamed as she lunged, aiming for his shoulder. Cire braced himself, trying to sense her intent, to feel the mark respond.

But nothing came.

No vibrations, no warning. Only silence.

Byru was mere inches from him when she abruptly closed her jaws, midair. Her body shimmered, transforming into a small bird that fluttered to his shoulder. Her warm, feathery form nuzzled against his neck, a mix of apology and kinship radiating from their bond.

Cire exhaled sharply, his shoulders slumping. He reached up to stroke her tiny head, a rueful smile on his face. "So, you never planned on hurting me, huh?" Byru chirped softly in response, her affection palpable.

'That won't work. I can't test this on you,' he thought. 'I need to face something that truly wishes me harm—a Sigil.' His heart steadied as determination flooded his veins.

Cire stood, his gaze sharp. "Byru, we're going hunting," he said, a flicker of excitement in his voice. He glanced down at her bird form with a smirk. "Or maybe we'll let the hunters become the prey this time."