Transformative Nights

Jonathans Will

Holding Jonathan tightly as he trembled and moaned in pain wasn’t exactly how I’d pictured this moment. His body quivered in my arms, each groan tearing into me, igniting a mixture of empathy and… something else. My grip on him tightened reflexively, and a dangerous thought slipped into my mind. This isn’t quite what I imagined when I thought about holding him while he… moaned. Heat flared up my neck. I shook the thought away, scolding myself silently. Focus, Chai Hao.

I cleared my throat, seeking a distraction, and turned to Rose. “So, you’re telling me you’re seasoned against men and their… charms, right?” I smirked, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

Rose shot me a withering look, a soft scoff escaping her. “That man is charm incarnate. A lesser woman wouldn’t have put up the fight I did,” she replied, crossing her arms with a faint huff of indignation.

Before I could craft a reply, a sharp cry from Jonathan shattered the moment. My heart clenched at the sound, the helplessness in watching someone you cared for endure such torment weighing heavy on my chest. The trials were always brutal. Every scream, every shudder reminded me of that grim fact. “Isn’t there some way we could’ve avoided this?” I asked, desperation edging my voice despite knowing the answer.. Rose’s face hardened as she turned to me, annoyance flickering in her eyes. “You ask that every time,” she said tersely. “And the answer remains the same. If a safer path existed, it would be a secret guarded by kings—and priced to match.” She softened, perhaps realizing I was asking out of care rather than ignorance. “Besides,” she added, a glint of pride in her eyes, “you should be glad this process fascinates me. I’ve finally managed a breakthrough. Now, we can project the trials they’re facing, witness them in real-time, and document the experience, rather than relying on hazy memories.” She leaned over Jonathan, her hands tracing intricate patterns above him. A low chant resonated from her as a dim glow appeared, growing more intense until the space between us hummed with energy.

Slowly, as her magic took effect, a shimmering image appeared in the air, showing what was unfolding within his mind. I watched in awe, mesmerized by the scenes playing out like a dream in the air before us.

In the shimmering projection, Jonathan stood, his expression a portrait of fierce resolve as he confronted a writhing mass of shadowy pain. A sharp intake of breath hissed between my teeth as I watched him craft a mental box, trapping the embodiment of his suffering. The moaning ceased, his body relaxed and the training room was suspended in stunned silence.

“Incredible,” Rose murmured, more to herself than to me. “He’s managed to conquer the raw embodiment of suffering. Few can claim such mastery.” Her awe was infectious, and I felt a rush of pride swell within me.

My instincts had been right; Jonathan was remarkable. After abstaining, he was my first hunt in years, and what a catch Jonathan had proven to be.

Jonathan’s trial deepened, the scene morphing into a serene lakeside. He moved with calculated precision, diving into the water with the grace of someone who trusted the elements to answer his call. I watched with bated breath as he manipulated air to create an oxygen bubble and formed a silent wave, an innovation even seasoned mages might struggle to achieve. It was fascinating to witness the clarity of his thought, the precision with which he wielded his powers. He drove the wave towards his opponent, binding it with water before launching himself skyward in a seamless, deadly ballet. Lightning crackled in response to his will, coursing through the lake with an electric roar. He vanished into shadows, a tactic as cunning as it was audacious, appearing on the other shore just in time to see the enemy falter. The final act was as breathtaking as it was effective: the lake froze, trapping the figure beneath a crystalline sheet. I felt a surge of pride that bordered on possessive.

Then, the scene dissolved and reformed, to a sun-scorched desert, where Jonathan was pitted against three shadowy foes. The relentless heat shimmered, a merciless companion to the trial. His mastery over water, air, and shadow bought him moments of advantage, but it was clear these adversaries were not so easily bested. I gripped Jonathan’s shoulders, feeling his tension as if it were my own. He was pushed to his limits, his breath growing ragged as he fought to keep his composure.I felt my pulse quicken, a protective instinct seizing me as his movements became more desperate.

Then, as if summoning the spirit of defiance itself, Jonathan willed fire and earth into action. I was spellbound as flames burst to life at his command, forming a blazing barrier between him and his foes.The air ignited, heat roiling into tongues of flame, while the ground beneath him buckled and splintered into traps that ensnared his pursuers. The strain was evident—his muscles tensed, his face set in grim determination—but with each ragged breath, he bent the elements to his will. I glanced at Rose, whose eyes were wide with awe, mirroring my own admiration. “Most mages can barely command one or two elements,” she murmured. “Jonathan… he’s channeling five. Maybe six.”

I returned my gaze to Jonathan, the pride swelling within me now mingled with a deep respect. This was not a mere student. He was something else entirely—someone I would fight to protect, someone I could watch become greater than anyone had dreamed.

Scene after scene played out, each trial a crucible meant to push him to the brink. And yet, Jonathan endured. When the final test ebbed away, a figure appeared, assessing him with an expression that sent a shiver down my spine.

Its voice echoed through the projection, and I listened closely as it acknowledged Jonathan’s raw power, his rare affinities for water, lightning, air, and shadow, and his ability to command even fire and earth.

“Impressive,” it said, the voice resonating with an otherworldly quality. “Most mages wield one primary element, with perhaps a hint of affinity to another. But you... You command water and lightning with unparalleled strength, hold affinity for air and shadow, and even summon fire and earth. Your true strength, however, lies not in magic, but in your will—a legacy forged in the bloodline of powerful witches.” “Incredible,” I whispered to myself, unable to hold back my admiration. My breath caught as Jonathan, still struggling to calm his ragged breathing, asked, “What do you mean by a lineage of witches? My parents are ordinary humans.”

The figure began to dissipate, leaving the question unanswered. The pain Jonathan had kept contained rushed back in, a visible shudder racing through him. But as he returned to the present, a flicker of relief softened the tense lines of his face.

Gently, I cradled his head in my lap, unable to suppress the tenderness that surged within me. My hand, as if with a will of its own, smoothed back his hair. A soft hum escaped my lips, filling the silence between us. Slowly, Jonathan’s eyes opened, their depths glazed with exhaustion but clear enough to find mine.

“You’re awake,” I whispered, a smile tugging at my lips before I could stop it. “I have only ever seen one person as beautiful in their sleep as you.” The words slipped out, unbidden, heavy with emotions I hadn’t dared to name until now. His gaze held mine, and I could feel the unspoken bond between us strengthening, a shared understanding born from the trials he’d endured and the quiet pride I felt for him. In that instant, I knew I would do whatever it took to guide him, protect him, and, perhaps… something more.