The Forbidden Bond of Fate

The Four Foundations

He wrote a single word beneath the drawing.

ADVANTAGE

The white stone scratched softly across the board.

Several students leaned forward in their seats. Others hurriedly copied the word into their memory parchment.

The teacher stepped back and looked at the class.

“Tell me,” he said. “What is strength?”

A few students immediately exchanged looks. Some seemed eager to answer. Others frowned, trying to determine whether it was another trick question.

Before anyone could raise a hand, the teacher continued.

“It is an advantage.”

A faint line appeared beneath the word.

The classroom quieted.

“Speed is an advantage.”

He drew another line…

“Power is an advantage.”

Another line followed…

The students watched the board carefully. Several nodded in agreement. At their age, it was easy to believe that strength, speed, and power were the deciding factors in every battle.

The teacher turned from the board and faced the class.

“Yet none of them guarantee victory.”

The room grew still…

A girl in the second row paused midway through her notes, her brow furrowing slightly. Several others looked just as unconvinced.

The idea seemed to clash with everything they thought they knew about combat.

If strength, speed and power wasn't enough...

Then what exactly was?

The teacher's eyes moved across the classroom, catching the uncertainty on their faces.

A faint smile appeared.

“Because advantages create opportunities,” he said.

His finger tapped the word written on the board. The tap echoed through the room.

“They do not create outcomes.”

A few blinked… Others looked back towards the drawing of the wolves. Slowly seeing it differently than they had moments earlier.

Several students exchanged uncertain glances.

A handful looked genuinely surprised because for the first time, they were beginning to realize that possessing an advantage and knowing what to do with it were not the same thing at all.

While the class sat absorbed in the lesson, Anastasia noticed something else.

A movement… Small enough that most people would have missed it. Her eyes remained on the front of the room. Yet from the corner of her vision, she caught a boy near the back leaning slightly to one side.

His shoulder brushed against the student beside him.

It looked accidental… so natural. Until it happened again. This time the contact was deliberate.

The smaller boy beside him shifted uncomfortably.

A few students nearby hid faint smiles. Another nudge followed moments later. Then a folded scrap of parchment landed on the smaller boy's desk from behind.

Whatever was written on it caused the students around him to quietly snicker.

The boy simply lowered his head.

Anastasia frowned slightly. The teacher hadn't noticed. Most of the class hadn't either.

Whoever was doing it was careful and patient. They waited until attention returned fully to the lesson before acting.

It was strange… so strange.

Anastasia studied the smaller boy for a moment.

Why was he allowing it?

There were only three of them. None looked particularly strong.

If he disliked it, why not stop them?

The thought lingered in her mind… She just couldn't understand. In her experience, if someone pushed against you...

You pushed back.

Unaware of the silent exchange taking place at the rear of the classroom, the teacher continued.

“An advantage is only as valuable as the warrior wielding it,” he said. “And that is why combat is built upon foundations rather than power.”

The room was listening much more carefully now.

The teacher nodded, pleased.

“Combat is built upon four foundations.”

He wrote them beneath the heading.

CONTROL

AWARENESS

ADAPTABILITY

DISCIPLINE

The white stone tapped the first word.

“Control.”

He turned towards the class.

“Without control, your power becomes a danger… not just to your enemies, but to your friends and to yourself.”

A few students sat up a little straighter.

The teacher moved to the second word.

“Awareness.”

“Without awareness, you'll never notice danger until it's already standing right in front of you.”

Several heads nodded. That one was easy to understand.

Anastasia almost found the statement ironic. Because at that very moment, she seemed to be the only one aware of what was happening near the back of the room.

Then he pointed to the third.

“Adaptability.”

“Plans fail. They fail all the time. If you can only fight one way, then the moment that way stops working, so do you.”

As if proving the lesson, another subtle movement caught Anastasia's attention.

One of the boys reached out with his foot beneath the desks.

The smaller boy's memory parchment slipped from his hands and struck the floor.

The sound was soft… barely noticeable.

A few nearby students chuckled.

The boy quickly bent down to retrieve it. His face remained lowered. He didn't complain, didn't look at them, couldn't defend himself.

Anastasia's frown deepened again.

WHY? WHY? WHY?

If one response wasn't working, why keep using it?

Why remain silent?

The teacher's words echoed through the room.

If you can only fight one way, then the moment that way stops working, so do you.

Anastasia found herself glancing briefly towards the boy.

For the first time, she wondered whether some battles existed that couldn't simply be solved by fighting back.

The thought lingered… so uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

Around her, however, the rest of the classroom remained focused on the lesson.

The scratching of quills on their memory parchment had long since faded. No one was whispering, no one was fidgeting.

The teacher had the room's full attention.

Then a hand rose near the back.

The movement drew several eyes.

The teacher noticed it immediately.

“Yes?”

The boy stood somewhat awkwardly, straightening his academy uniform as dozens of students looked his way.

He hesitated as if weighing whether he should ask.

Then finally…

“Sir... what if someone becomes so powerful that none of that matters?”

The question settled over the room.

Several other students immediately turned towards him. Not because the question was strange but because somehow many of them had been thinking the same thing.

The teacher looked at the boy. Then at the four foundations written across the board. His gaze lingered there briefly before returning to the student.

For a moment, he said nothing.

The silence itself seemed deliberate.

“As in...” he said slowly, “someone strong enough to defeat almost anyone they face?”

The boy nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

A faint smile touched the teacher's face.

“Then that person becomes dangerous.”

Several students frowned. That wasn't the answer they had expected.

The teacher folded his arms.

“And the most dangerous thing about overwhelming power isn't what it can destroy.”

His gaze swept across the room.

Students instinctively straightened beneath it.

“It's how easily it can convince its owner that they no longer need to learn.”

Silence followed… A deep, thoughtful silence. The kind that settled when people were no longer simply listening but actually thinking.

Some students glanced back at the words written across the board.

Others lowered their gazes to the notes they had scribbled onto their memory parchments, trying to fit the lesson into everything they thought they knew about power and combat.

The teacher allowed the silence to linger.

Then…

A hand slowly rose from the middle rows. The movement was hesitant, almost cautious.

The teacher noticed immediately and gave a small nod.

“Yes?”

A young girl rose to her feet.

For a brief moment, her eyes flickered towards Anastasia before returning to the teacher.

Then she asked,

“But what about Alpha Lucien?”

A pause…

The entire classroom seemed to grow still.

“Does all of this apply to him too?”