Walking along the edge of a small river, Sonder watched the steady flow of water.

She hopped from stone to stone that created their own little path across the natural bridge of rocks to the other side.

She knelt by the riverbank, dipping her hands into the cool water.

It wasn’t as icy as the waters back in Simeria, but still cold enough to be refreshing.

The chill didn’t bother her much—she’d never been sensitive to cold—but the rush of the water against her skin was pleasant.

As the stream trickled through her fingers, she couldn’t help but think back to her first attempt at fire magic.

The flame had come alive for her, though hesitantly.

Despite Vell’s encouragement, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she hadn’t done as well as she could have, or should have.

Sonder’s gaze shifted to her reflection in the river. She still wasn’t accustomed to her appearance since she had been raised—pale skin that looked almost ghostly, eyes clouded like milky glass, and hair that barely reached her neck, growing far more slowly than it should.

It reminded her of the tales her mother used to tell—stories of witches from the woods who would take misbehaving children. She’d never paid them much mind as a child, but now... she looked a little too much like one of those witches.

She sighed and watched the sunlight play across the water’s surface, its shimmering light flickering like the flame she had summoned.

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"I wonder if water would respond to me the same way," she wondered aloud.

Cupping her hands in the river, she felt the weight and flow of the water.

"How would I even start?" she thought.

Vell hadn’t taught her water magic yet, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try. After all, she’d managed with fire.

Just as she had with the fire, she reached out with her mana.

She listened to the steady rhythm of the river, the constant movement as it wound its way around the rocks.

At first, nothing happened—just the cool, unchanging sensation of water against her skin. She was used to nothing happening right away when she tried something new, so she kept at it.

She remembered what Vell had said about fire—it was alive, with its own will. Surely water was the same, in some way.

After a few minutes of nothing happening, she said in frustration, "Come on," trying to will the water to respond as the fire had.

But it slipped through her fingers, effortlessly escaping her grip and her energy.

It was frustrating, yet strangely peaceful. Water wasn’t like fire—it wasn’t eager to flare up or answer her call. Instead, it was calm, yet constantly in motion.

It wouldn’t burn or sting if she failed to control it; it would simply flow.

"Alright," she muttered, glancing at the stream. "You don’t want to be forced. I get that." Lowering her hands, she placed her palms flat on the water’s surface, feeling the gentle current pass over her skin.

Maybe, she thought, instead of trying to command it, she needed to listen—to work with the flow of the river rather than to bait it with her mana. Water, like fire, had its own nature. Just as she sought to befriend the flame, she thought that she needed to approach water with patience instead.

"Okay, let’s try this another way," she said.

This time, she let her mana seep out slowly, not forcing it into the water, but spreading it gently into the space around her.

For a long moment, nothing happened. But then, beneath her palms, she felt a subtle ripple, a small tug as if the water had noticed her. A smirk formed on her face.

"There you are," she said, watching the tiny disturbance in the river.

She didn’t try to lift the water or bend it to her will, not yet. Instead, she remained still, letting her hands rest on the stream as she focused on whatever fragile connection she had managed to forge. It wasn’t much, but it was something.