The spiraling staircase wound upward like a serpent coiled around the heart of the Obsidian Spire. Luma's footsteps echoed beside Elder Ion's, her mind racing faster than her feet. She was finally going to meet the Grandmaster.
They passed crystalline orbs floating in the air, pulsing gently like breathing lungs. Equations shimmered inside them—beautiful, elegant curves of motion and energy. They weren't just symbols. They felt alive.
At last, they arrived before a door of translucent stone. It didn't swing open—it disappeared, vanishing with a soft shhhhhh as if exhaling after centuries of waiting.
Inside, a vast chamber stretched upward, its domed ceiling etched with ancient constellations and lines of physics Luma didn't recognize. Standing in its center, cloaked in deep violet robes threaded with silver, was the Grandmaster.
He turned slowly.
"Luma Soryn," he said. His voice was both gentle and immense, like a breeze that could move mountains. "You have walked the path of motion, and now stand at the threshold of momentum."
She bowed instinctively.
The Grandmaster stepped closer. His eyes were not entirely human—they shimmered with layers of perception, as though he could see gravity itself. "Your mind is awake. Your curiosity burns. But the road is longer than you can see."
"Why did you call me here?" Luma asked, her voice surprisingly steady.
"To give you sight," he said. "And to prepare you for the weight of understanding."
He raised a hand. An orb, much like the one Hart had used, floated toward her. But this one pulsed with a deeper hum—resonance.
Ion nodded toward her. "Take it."
As Luma placed her hand on the orb, the chamber dimmed. The orb projected a scene: a ball being kicked. It flew in a perfect arc, then suddenly paused in midair.
"What do you see?" the Grandmaster asked.
"A ball," Luma said, "and… motion. But it's frozen."
"Not frozen," he replied. "Measured. This is the study of linear motion. You've begun this already—but now, see deeper."
The ball resumed movement, slower this time. Arrows appeared, showing velocity changing as it flew, acceleration constant due to gravity. The Grandmaster gestured again, and beneath the ball, a formula appeared:
v = u + at
Luma tilted her head. "Final velocity equals initial velocity plus acceleration multiplied by time," she whispered.
Ion smiled. "You remember."
The Grandmaster circled the projection. "And what of this?" he asked.
A new image appeared: a hill. A cart rolled down it, gaining speed.
"Here," the Grandmaster said, "lies potential energy becoming kinetic. Recall it, Luma."
She watched the cart rush down and said slowly, "Potential energy is stored energy… like when something is high up. And kinetic is moving energy. So the hill gives it height—potential—and as it falls, it changes into kinetic."
"Good," the Grandmaster said. "Now understand this: the world obeys these laws, but it is not bound by just them. There are deeper patterns."
He turned toward Ion. "Have you told her of the Masters' true goal?"
Ion hesitated.
"Not yet."
The Grandmaster's gaze sharpened. "She must know. They do not seek chaos. They seek to unmake the laws—to return the world to an age before understanding. And the Gate of Praxis… it must remain closed to them."
"The Gate of Praxis?" Luma asked.
"The bridge between knowledge and power," the Grandmaster said. "You will walk it. But not yet."
He handed her a small black disc. It vibrated faintly. "This is a motion tracker. Train with it. Record how your body moves, how forces affect you. You must learn your own motion before you can master others'."
He stepped back into the shadows.
"Go now," he said. "And remember, not all things that fall are broken. Some fall to rise."