The hills of eastern Ionia rolled gently beneath Kaelen's feet, mist curling around roots and rocks like restless spirits. The sun had risen high, painting the valley in gold and green, yet an uneasy quiet pressed against him, like the forest itself was holding its breath.
Kaelen moved cautiously, each step measured, feeling the Flow beneath his palms and the faint pulse of Root threading through the soil. Yesterday's encounter with Irelia had left his mind both exhilarated and restless. He had demonstrated Flow and Root, but now he had to travel, alone, with no mentor at his side.
The path led him toward a river cutting through the valley. Its waters were crystal clear, rushing over stones worn smooth by time. Kaelen knelt beside it, letting his fingers brush the surface. The Flow responded immediately, lifting in gentle arcs, reflecting sunlight like liquid crystal. He allowed the water to circle his hands in delicate spirals, letting instinct guide the motion without forcing it.
Focus, he reminded himself. Flow, Root… calm, intent, harmony.
He rose and moved along the riverbank, the roots of ancient trees twisting beneath the soil like hidden veins. Every few steps, he paused, feeling the subtle pulse of the Root beneath him. He had begun to sense small vibrations in the earth that hinted at movement: animals, insects, even distant Noxian patrols.
The first sign of danger came as a faint crunch of leaves behind him. Kaelen froze, heart hammering. A patrol of three Noxian soldiers emerged from the treeline, their crimson armor catching the sunlight. The Flow reacted before Kaelen could think, water lifting in defensive arcs around his feet. The roots beneath his palms quivered in response.
Instinct, he thought. Control.
The first soldier charged with a spear raised. Kaelen extended his hands. Water shot forward, forming a twisting ribbon around the man's legs, while roots surged upward, tangling just enough to trip him without causing serious harm. The soldier stumbled, giving Kaelen a brief moment to assess the situation.
"Three against one," Kaelen muttered, chest heaving. I can't let fear guide me.
The second soldier swung an axe, aiming for Kaelen's side. His heart skipped, but he felt a subtle shift in the wind—tiny eddies brushing against his face. Breath. A flicker of awareness, a pulse of air. He hadn't actively controlled it yet, but the faint gust bent the axe's trajectory slightly, enough to slow the strike.
Breath… Kaelen realized, eyes widening. It's stirring. I feel it.
The third soldier lunged. Kaelen dropped low, letting the Flow and Root move in tandem. Water spiraled up like a soft barrier while roots bent subtly, deflecting the attack. He felt a thrill of exhilaration—control, instinct, and subtle awareness of a new element.
The soldiers faltered, confused by the unexpected coordination. Kaelen exhaled slowly, forcing himself to maintain harmony. The water arced over the nearest soldier's weapon, the roots twisting beneath their feet, tripping them gently. None were harmed, but the display was enough to make them reconsider.
"They're… strange," one muttered, stepping back. "Do not engage further."
Kaelen took a cautious breath. The Flow and Root receded, settling back into the river and soil like a sigh. His muscles trembled, and sweat dripped down his brow. He had survived—solo—but the effort had drained him completely.
Aiyana's words echoed in his mind: Instinct alone will not be enough. Control comes with harmony, patience, and intent.
Kaelen pressed his palms to the earth, feeling the subtle vibration of the river, the roots, and… something new. A faint pulse of air stirred around his hands, curling lightly through the water arcs. Breath, he realized fully this time. Not fully awakened, but present, hinting at the next step in his multi-element path.
He staggered to his knees, catching his breath. The river gurgled beside him, a soft, flowing encouragement. The forest seemed alive, whispering faintly through leaves and soil, telling him that the land had more to reveal—and more trials ahead.
Kaelen's thoughts drifted to Irelia. She had guided him in small ways, demonstrating that mastery required not just instinct, but deliberate understanding. He had felt her presence yesterday, but now he realized she was only a glimpse of what the world held. Ionia was alive, and every step forward brought both danger and insight.
Hours passed, the valley sun dipping toward the horizon. Kaelen found a sheltered grove near a waterfall, the mist creating rainbows in the golden light. He lowered himself to the soft moss, letting his hands hover above the soil and water, feeling the subtle interplay of Flow, Root, and the first whisper of Breath.
"Not yet mastery," he murmured to himself, "but… I can feel it. I can begin to control it."
The sound of distant movement broke his concentration. Kaelen's pulse quickened. Through the grove, he glimpsed shadows along the far cliffside. A single Noxian scout, moving stealthily, had likely followed the river.
Kaelen's hands moved before fear could take hold. Water surged, roots bent, and a subtle breeze nudged the scout off balance. The man tripped into a shallow pool, coughing and sputtering. Kaelen exhaled, letting the currents calm. No one was harmed, but the message was clear: he was aware, and he could defend himself.
The scout scrambled away, disappearing into the trees. Kaelen sank to the moss, exhausted but exhilarated. He had traveled alone, faced Noxians without help, and begun sensing another element—Breath—awakening within him.
As night fell, the river shimmered in silver light. Kaelen pressed his palms to the soil and water once more, feeling the subtle interplay of Flow, Root, and the faint whisper of air. He realized that his journey had only just begun. Ionia was vast, dangerous, and full of champions who could aid—or challenge—him.
And somewhere beyond the river and mist, Kaelen knew, new allies and new dangers waited.
The untethered seed had begun to grow.