The Essence Flow

Chapter 75: The Snow Remembers

Snow crunched beneath their boots.

Towan walked a few steps behind Eryndar, his breath visible in the crisp morning air. The sun had just begun to rise behind them, casting long shadows across the white path ahead. It wasn’t a blizzard—just a quiet fall of steady snow, soft and slow, like the world was trying to hush itself.

The only sounds were wind and footsteps. One heavy and deliberate.

The other, lighter. Hesitant.

Towan shifted his bag higher on his shoulder.

This is weird. I'm used to walking with Elliot. Talking. Laughing. Not… this.

He stared at the back of Eryndar’s coat — thick, dark, already dusted with snow — and finally worked up the nerve.

“Where are we going?” he asked, his voice cutting into the silence like a rock through still water.

Eryndar didn’t stop walking.

“North.”

That was it.

Just one word, like the direction alone should answer everything.

Towan blinked. “That’s… vague.”

A long pause followed. Towan could practically feel Eryndar deciding whether or not to explain more.

“There’s a village up there,” Eryndar finally said. “Near the edge of what used to be the Valeen front.”

Towan frowned slightly. “Used to be?”

“It’s quiet now. But the ground remembers.”

Another pause.

“And corrupted things tend to crawl toward old wounds.”

Towan adjusted his scarf, snow starting to cling to his hair.

He didn’t ask more. Not yet.

But in that moment, one thing became clear:

He hadn’t just signed up for training.

He’d stepped into Eryndar’s shadow.

And whatever was waiting up north…

It would show him whether he could step out of it.

After some time walking in silence, the snowfall began to slow. The cold still bit at their cheeks, but the wind had calmed. Just the steady rhythm of boots pressing into fresh snow.

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Towan exhaled slowly, letting the silence stretch.

(This is as good a time as any...)

He closed his eyes for a brief second, then focused inward.

(I should refine my channels while we walk.)

Essentia stirred beneath the surface of his skin—like a river beneath thin ice. He started small, guiding the flow through familiar routes in his body: arms, spine, legs. Nothing intense. Just enough to pressure the channels and toughen them.

Leon had called it “Path Conditioning.”

A basic foundational method.

Sit. Breathe. Flow. Repeat.

But Towan had grown impatient with sitting.

(If I can do it while moving… while walking, breathing, fighting—then I don’t need perfect stillness. I just need control.)

It wasn’t efficient. He knew that.

The flow was rougher like this.

The edges didn’t smooth out the way they did in full meditation.

But it worked.

More importantly—it worked while moving.

His breath synced with each cycle. Inhale through his steps. Exhale through the flow.

And slowly, the cold didn’t feel so sharp.

The air around his limbs began to hum faintly.

(If I can do this while walking… what else can I layer it into?)

A branch snapped ahead.

Eryndar glanced back.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t ask.

But for a moment, his eyes lingered.

Towan looked away.

(He noticed.)

But Eryndar simply turned and kept walking.

Still silent.

But maybe… a little less distant than before.

After some time walking through the thinning snow, Eryndar stopped.

Towan, deep in thought, nearly bumped into him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping aside.

Eryndar didn’t answer right away.

His eyes scanned the treeline to the left — sharp, focused.

“How do you find animals when you hunt?”

Towan blinked.

(Wait—what? Is this an actual question or one of those weird metaphors Leon used all the time? ‘The rabbit is a metaphor for fear, Towan’... gods.)

He hesitated, then shrugged.

“I mean… I usually set traps and wait. Or just look around and chase if I see tracks.”

Eryndar gave a small nod, eyes still locked on the trees.

“Then you’re going to like this.”

He lifted his hand.

A soft, light green aura began to shimmer around his palm. It pulsed once—then stretched outward like a balloon being pulled from the center. The translucent glow extended along the forest floor, connected to his hand like an ethereal tether.

Towan’s eyes widened.

(Is he… spreading his Essentia? What’s the point in—wait.)

The realization hit.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” Towan said. “Whatever’s touching it?”

Eryndar nodded slightly.

“Everything it passes through,” he said. “Temperature. Movement. Density. Pressure. If you know what to look for, you’ll feel the difference.”

The Essentia sheet pulsed again, rolling gently over roots and snow.

“It’s not easy. Takes years to keep the flow intact over distance. And even longer to interpret what it’s telling you.”

He paused for a beat.

“Seventy-five meters. East. There’s a deer.”

Towan blinked.

(How…? He said that like he just looked at a map.)

Eryndar closed his fist, and the aura retracted in a single fluid motion.

“Essentia isn’t just for hitting harder,” he added, calm but firm. “It’s a sense. A weapon. A tool. A map. The sooner you stop treating it like just energy… the sooner you’ll grow.”

He turned again, continuing down the path.

Towan stood for a second longer, watching the snow settle back over where the aura had been.

(Tracking by feel… not just by sight. That’s a whole new level of control.)

He hurried after Eryndar, the gears already turning.

(If he can sense life… can he sense corruption too?)