Hunt/Dreams

Life went on, but for Yulli, it felt like the world was dragging him forward while he barely kept his footing. The academy bustled as usual—laughter, chatter, the occasional explosion from someone messing up their mana control. The looming practical exams had everyone on edge, pushing themselves harder, staying up later, practising until their muscles screamed.

For most, it was just another challenge. A stepping stone.

For Yulli?

It was everything.

This was his last shot. Fail this, and he was done.

So he threw himself into training like a madman. Every morning, every night, until his body threatened to collapse under its own weight. His bruises had bruises, his muscles ached in places he didn't even know had muscles, and his vision blurred more often than he'd like to admit. But none of it mattered. It had to pay off—it would pay off.

Of course, Hare and Eliches had noticed.

Hare, in true Hare fashion, had stormed up to him, eyes flashing with fury, practically vibrating with the urge to commit violence.

"Who did it?" Her voice was low, dangerous. "Who put their hands on you?"

Yulli, still aching from last night's training, gave his best dismissive wave. "Relax, it's just from sparring."

"Bullshit."

"Swear on my life." He grinned—too wide, too casual. "If it makes you feel better, I'll let you throw me into the dirt a few times during training."

Hare narrowed her eyes, but she let it go—for now.

She didn't hold back during their sparring, though. Not that she ever did. But today? Today was brutal.

Yulli barely had time to react before she swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground for the fifth time.

"You're hesitating." She planted a foot on his chest, arms crossed. "If you don't commit, you're just wasting time."

Yulli coughed, staring at the sky. "Maybe I like wasting time."

"Then you'll waste your future too."

He blinked. She had that look again—the one that said she wasn't just talking about the fight.

Elitches wasn't any easier on him.

Mana training was hell.

Yulli sat cross-legged in a dim room, eyes locked on the flickering candle in front of him, begging his mana to listen. His fingers tingled, the flame wavered, but that was it. No spark. No warmth. Nothing.

"You're forcing it," Elitches sighed, watching with his usual unimpressed stare. "Mana isn't something you just grab and twist into shape. It's a part of us, our life force like blood; it flows. You have to let it come to you."

Yulli exhaled sharply. "That sounds like something a priest would say before they punch your spine out."

Elitches just shrugged. "Maybe you need your spine punched out."

He groaned and tried again. And again. And again. But still—nothing.

And Muetaki?

Muetaki was watching. Always watching. Always analyzing.

"Your forms are rigid," he commented during one of their study sessions, voice even, unreadable.

Yulli, still half-buried in his book, barely glanced up. "And?"

"You're thinking too much before you act."

Yulli's grip on the pages tightened. "I have to think, or else I'll—"

"Lose?"

The silence stretched.

Muetaki didn't say anything else, but he didn't need to. Yulli already knew the answer.

And yet, despite everything—despite the training, the bruises, the sleepless nights—one thing never changed.

His mark never appeared.

The foundation of sorcery, the bare minimum to wield Magika. It is one of the requirements to become a hunter, although there are exemptions depending on certain circumstances.

But Yulli?

Nothing.

Every night, he sat alone, staring at his open palm, willing it to change, to glow, to do something. But his skin remained empty. His hands were just hands.

As the exam loomed closer, the thought haunted him.

What if I never awaken it?

What if all this training, all this suffering, all this pain was for nothing?

What if… I was never meant to be here?

And then—

The day arrived.

The air was thick with tension. Students gathered in groups, whispering amongst themselves, eyes flickering toward the few instructors who stood waiting. Some were excited. Some were nervous.

Yulli?

He stood in silence, staring at the training grounds, heart hammering in his chest.

This was it.

One last chance.

He couldn't afford to fail.