When we first arrived at the site, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was the most breathtaking scenery—a cave with an open field in front of it, surrounded by towering trees. The leaves displayed vibrant hues of orange and red mingled with green, marking the beginning stages of fall. It provided us the perfect camouflage for training and was mesmerizingly beautiful.

In our relief at arriving safely, Cyrus immediately dropped his gear and stuffed his face with a roll of bread. We chatted quietly for a short while, with Serf Seraphiel and I eating at a much slower pace. Not long after, we rolled out our thin blankets inside the cave to get a good night's rest.

The sunrise painted the sky in bright orange hues the next morning. It was a beautiful day to train. Contrary to our expectations, the first step of the process wasn’t very physical.

“Meditation is the best way to observe yourself from the outside.” Serf Seraphiel told me, getting into a seated, upright posture. “The best way to get into the mindset is to try to focus on nothing for a while. Clear your mind.”

Cyrus began to whine, “Aww, Dad I thought there would be more action! I wanted to show off my sparring skills.”

“We’ll get to that later,” his father replied, rubbing his forehead in mild frustration. “If she doesn’t practice regulating her emotions first, she’ll just spiral—and quickly.” He turned to Cy’s dejected face and added sarcastically, “Unless you want her to go into a full demonic rampage on you, Cy.”

Cyrus’s eyes widened, and he shook his head vigorously, his blonde curls dancing around his head. “Meditation it is!”

“What is ‘observing myself from the outside’ going to do?” I asked, curious.

“Well,” Serf Seraphiel explained, “by looking at your thoughts and emotions objectively, without letting your heart interfere, you can identify whether they’re really yours.”

I sat on the ground, mimicking his posture. “Alright, where do I start?” I asked.

Serf Seraphiel closed his eyes, signaling me to do the same. “Think of nothing. Focus on your breathing.”

Alright, sounds easy enough.

I closed my eyes, slowly breathing in and out. I listened to the chirping birds, their morning songs filling the air, and envisioned the sun rays streaming through the trees. It was peaceful, and I pushed myself to imagine nothingness. I focused through my eyelids, on the darkness behind them. After some time, I figured I was getting the hang of it.

*crunch crunch*

Ignore it.

*crunch crunch chew*

I peeled my eyes open and glared at Cyrus, who was eating a carrot and watching us, leaning back against the wall.

“Can you stop chewing so loudly?” I snapped.

“I’m helping you,” he replied, shrugging.

“How is that helping? You’re purposely annoying me!”

“Dad said to think of nothing, but you’re focusing on me. Sounds like I’m giving you practice,” Cyrus stated matter-of-factly, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

Serf Seraphiel shushed us. “Meditate, Noemi,” he said sternly.

I settled back into position, shooting one last glare at Cy as he stuck his orange tongue out at me, chewed carrot chunks covering it.

That’s disgusting.

I resumed my breathing, attempting to envision a void. No matter how hard I tried, I found myself still thinking.

How do you sit here and think of nothing? Even when I try, I’m still thinking about thinking of nothing. This is impossible.

I exhaled in frustration but kept my eyes closed. My legs tingled, craving movement. I shifted slightly, desperately seeking relief from the restlessness.

“Noemi, control your frustration,” Serf Seraphiel instructed.

“This is impossible,” I muttered. “How do I just turn my brain off like that?”

“You don’t,” he replied. “That’s the point. If you get close to nothingness, there’s less space for emotions that follow your thoughts.”

I realized the depth of Serf Seraphiel's wisdom. Was this how he managed to control his emotions with such expertise? It seemed that even if a comet were to crash before us, he would remain the calmest person in the world.

Determined to emulate his calm, I returned to my practice, understanding the importance of mastering meditation sooner rather than later.

After several hours of meditation, Serf Seraphiel agreed we needed to stretch our legs. We moved to the field before us, and Cyrus jumped for joy at the thought of sparring.

“I call dibs on the staff!” he exclaimed, excitedly.

“Not you, yet,” Serf Seraphiel explained. “I need you to watch on the sidelines, ready to heal any injuries.”

“But, Dad—” he began.

“No ‘but.’ We’re not sure how strong this Demon can be when taking over Noemi’s body, and he’ll target anyone blocking his way. I don’t want you hurt.”

“I never get to do the fun stuff.”

Serf Seraphiel placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “While you might not think your ability is ‘cool,’ you’ll realize one day how important you are to have around.”

Cy’s expression brightened as the gravity of his father’s words sunk in. He moved to the side, his determination evident as he gave a nod. “I’ll watch,” he said.

Serf Seraphiel bent down, setting himself in a fighting stance. “Alright, Noemi. Use your ability to throw me against that tree.” He motioned to our side. “Don’t be afraid to give it everything you’ve got.”

I nodded, knowing the Seraphiels could handle pain better than most. I assumed a stance, legs spread shoulder-width, body turned for balance. Focusing my energy, I raised my arms and flung my hands toward the tree.

He didn’t budge.

I tried again. Then again, and again, and again– but to no avail. Frustration built, and I began outrageously throwing my arms back and forth, with exaggerated force, attempting to move him—but his ability kept him grounded.

“Keep your emotions in check, Noemi,” he instructed gently. “Remember the meditation. Apply it while focusing your energy.”

I wanted to heed his advice, but again, he remained unmoved. Suddenly, a small rock struck my forehead. Serf Seraphiel had used his ability to fling it, with a flick of his finger; not enough to hurt, but enough for my irritation to become overwhelming.

How can he use his ability so easily while I’m putting my whole body into it?

“UGH!” I shouted. “This isn’t working!”

“Control,” he repeated, calmly holding my gaze.

“I’m trying,” I replied through gritted teeth. Anger swelled, and my mind raced.

I can’t do this. No matter how hard I try, I can’t control him. I can’t even control myself. I’m a lost cause.

The King will discover what I am. I’m simply a threat to everyone around me. I should run far away, live in No Man’s Land, away from everyone else.

I could—

“Control him, Noemi. He’s trying to make you give up,” Serf Seraphiel called. “Even I see you aren’t yourself—it’s written all over you. Meditate to discern who is truly thinking. Is it you or him?”

I contemplated his words.

He’s right. As much as I hate the Veil, I now have people there who love me. I have Cy and Serf Seraphiel.

This isn’t me.

“Do you really think that this stupid game is going to get rid of me, Alden Seraphiel?” a sinister voice crawled from my throat. Fear widened my eyes, freezing me in place. Kako’s voice—it was different now, sending a chill straight to my core.

The wind picked up, turning frigid and sending shivers down our spines. Goosebumps spread across my skin—painful ones. He was back, and I was aware of it this time. I was still able to direct my movements…

...Or was I?

“What the fuuu...” Cy breathed, his eyes wide with shock.

Serf Seraphiel smirked, relaxing his stance. In the calmest, most childlike voice, he said, “There you are.”