Kerrigan

The dawn of a new week had arrived, and Kerrigan couldn't shake the familiar feeling of anxiety that always seemed to knot in his stomach. Despite Isah's attempts to calm him over the weekend with their rigorous training sessions from sunrise to starry nights, he still felt a lingering sense of unease. The physical exhaustion had provided temporary relief from his troubled thoughts, but every time he returned home, he was overcome with shame. He still hadn’t spoken to his mother since their argument on Friday as she had been working extra shifts all weekend, leaving their house deserted.

He knew he had acted like a child and wanted to apologize for his outburst. She deserved better from him. But why did expressing himself have to be so difficult? Every time images of the fire and his father flooded back, panic gripped him, robbing him of any rational thought.

Kerrigan reached the training yard, spotting Isah already engrossed in her warm-up routine. As always, her movements were smooth and precise. From everything she had taught him and how skilled she was, she must have learned sword fighting from an early age, just like Darrow. Which made him wonder what noble house she came from, since she had talked about attending the balls in her past. They had never really talked about their families. Kerrigan wasn’t sure if he wanted to, but perhaps with Isah, he wouldn’t mind so much.

As Kerrigan approached her, she caught sight of him and greeted him with a warm smile before returning to her exercises. That was one thing he admired about Isah—she seemed instinctively aware of people’s emotion, sparing them unnecessary inquiries like “are you ready for today?” or “how are you feeling?”. She would simply let him be in silence, until he felt like talking.

Standing a bit away from her, he began stretching before diving into their usual training regimen.

As they trained side by side while the hours moved by, he could feel some of the stress ebbing away as he moved his body.

After finishing their training session, they settled down on the soft, grassy ground to catch their breaths before going to wash up. Kerrigan’s eyes wandered over the training grounds in front of him. The sun was high in the sky now, casting a warm glow over the battered target on the field. His eyes landed on Isah, her eyelids shut, and head angled towards the sky, soaking up the delightful sunshine. A wave of appreciation for her washed over him.

“Thank you,” Kerrigan said, breaking the silence between them. “For everything this weekend.”

Isah opened her eyes to look at him, a soft expression on her face. “No need to thank me, Kerrigan. It’s what friends do for each other.”

He felt a rush of warmth in his chest at her words. A friend. It was a word he hadn’t heard anyone use in reference to him before, as sad as that sounded. So this was how it felt to have a friend—it was quite nice.

“I mean it though,” he insisted. “I’m not sure what I would have done without your friendship.” The word ‘friendship’ sounded strange coming out of his mouth.

Isah smiled at him and reached out to give his hand a squeeze. “I’m glad I could be of help, Kerrigan. It’s not easy going through everything by yourself.”

Her eyes suddenly seemed distant; her gaze fixed on a distant point. “I come from house Bellton. From the outside looking in, my family seem impressive with their grand balls and lavish events, but it's nothing more than a facade. I was actually raised away from all that pomp with my mother and half-sister. But when they discovered I was Gifted at twelve, my father insisted that I should come live with him and his new wife and family. It was overwhelming. Suddenly, every day was packed with lessons ranging from dancing and etiquette to fighting techniques.”

Kerrigan saw the hurt flicker in her eyes as she finished sharing. “I had no idea,” he admitted. “It must have been really difficult for you.”

“It was,” she said with a sigh. “The pressure and expectations that come with being born into nobility are immense. My father expects nothing less than perfection from me.” She paused for a moment before continuing softly, "But the hardest part is not being able to see my mother and sister."

The thought of being separated from loved ones and thrust into a world where every move is scrutinized sounded suffocating to Kerrigan. “I'm sorry you had to go through all of that,” he said sincerely, “I hope you get to visit your family soon.”

Isah’s smile returned at his words, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. “I will, just not anytime soon I suspect,” she replied.

Kerrigan looked out over the training yard, his eyes landing on a lone flower. “I can't imagine how it must be, separated from them. My mother has always been like a compass to me, constantly guiding me in the right direction,” he said and swallowed hard. “Even when my Gift took away my father, she stood by me.”

“I won’t pretend that I haven’t heard about that incident,” Isah said. “I get why it must be hard for you to accept your Gift.”

“She insists it wasn’t my fault,” he murmured. “We argued about it Friday, she wanted to explain that to me again.”

“I see. I did notice you seemed a little off,” she acknowledged. “However, I think if she insists that it wasn’t your fault, there must be a reason for her belief. I think you should hear her out.”

"Perhaps… I do owe her an apology for my reaction,” Kerrigan sighed. “But it’s tough. This Gift, it seems to only bring misery.”

“Or,” Isah began, “you need to shift your perspective on your Gift. If you keep blaming it for everything wrong in your life, you'll just suppress its power more and more which will make controlling it even harder.”

“I never thought about it that way,” he admitted. “It's just every time I attempt to use my Gift, memories of my father flood back… along with the prophecy.”

“Forget about the prophecy! Uorsar’s words from twenty years ago are just that; words. We are in charge of our own destiny.”

“I agree...but when I tap into my Gift, I feel like I'm being consumed by fire and lose control.” It felt odd to voice it out loud. But at the same time, he felt an unexpected relief acknowledging the fear the Gift gave him.

“You need to stop viewing your Gift as a curse,” Isah advised him as she stood up from the dewy grass beneath them. “Yes, the Ignis Gift can wreak havoc, but you have the power to channel it for good. Use it to protect those you care about.”

As she spoke, Isah positioned her feet apart and slowly raised her arms. Water droplets from the grass ascended into the air, leaving the blades bare.

Kerrigan had never seen her use her Gift before. Blessed by Nerida, she wielded Aqua. Just as her swordplay, her control over her Gift was mesmerizing. A stark contrast to his own struggle. Isah’s words lingered in his mind. If he could wield Ignis like that, he would perhaps be able to use it for something good.

He watched as Isah twisted her hands and molded the water into a sphere. It suspended mid-air before she released it to splash onto the ground a few feet away.

“When you feel yourself spiraling out of control, I'll be here to douse your flames,” she said with a pleased smile.

“That sounded extremely corny,” Kerrigan laughed. “But thank you.”

“Hey, watch it, you’re in the splash zone,” she playfully warned.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied with a chuckle, rising to stand next to her. Her words had managed to comfort him—he would take her advice and give his mother a chance to explain herself. This time without letting his feelings overwhelm him. He felt prepared for what she might say.

“You better,” she said, nudging his shoulder. “Now let's get going. I think we’re running late for Aspectology.”

But when they had arrived outside of the lecture hall, a note on the door had informed them it was canceled, throwing the day's schedule into disarray. Kerrigan couldn't help but wonder if it had anything to do with the urgent message Professor Heirshel had received the day of their extra lessons. If it was connected to any recent disruptions, it would likely be discussed in today's Battle briefing.

The room was a whirlwind of activity as students shuffled in, finding seats in the lecture hall. Battle brief was the only class that brought all first-year novices together, so the lecture hall would be filled to the brim once everyone had arrived.

Professor Alinav had already arrived, patiently waiting for all the novices to settle down. Behind her, a grand map of the Continent stretched across the wall, illuminated by the soft glow of two Crystal lights on each side. The map was detailed, clearly marking out territorial boundaries and pinpointing strategic locations where the military had established their outposts.

Kerrigan had followed Isah, and she had found them seats in the fourth row. As he looked around, numerous familiar faces caught his eye, though he struggled to match names with them. The only exception was Miron—the novice who had answered the Ignis Gift question in Aspectology. His hair was still a tousled mass of brown curls, partially obscuring his matching brown eyes.

Kerrigan also caught sight of Darrow, sitting in the second row surrounded by his friends. He hadn't been in their first Battle brief class, perhaps skipping it. Maybe he felt it beneath him, as the son of a General to start from scratch learning the basics of battle analysis.

“Good morning novices,” Professor Alinav said, instantly quieting the buzz of conversation and drawing every eye towards her. “As there have been no new major reports, we will today revisit our history and delve into the final battle of the Great War.”

Kerrigan had thought they would discuss whatever news Professor Heirshel had received, but it seemed he was mistaken. Or maybe it was beyond their standing; instead, they would receive a history lesson on the intense conflict between Solcran, Umbrade, and Zagoria over the precious resources of Umbrade.

Umbrade, now the Undercity of Solcran, was once independent. Back then, Solcran and Umbrade maintained a cooperative relationship being so close next to each other.

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This led to Solcran discovering the potential of the Crystals found abundantly in Umbrade, which changed everything. The Crystals quickly became a highly sought-after resource, shifting everyone's focus to them. In response to this, Umbrade turned to Solcran for assistance. They did not have the means to protect themselves when other countries threatened war, the most aggressive one Zagoria, a large country south of them.

So after a vote, it was decided that Umbrade would become incorporated into Solcran. Two cities united, standing strong in face of a common enemy. However, the trust they had built all collapsed when Uorsar led the failed rebellion just months after the war had ended. The inhabitants of the Undercity wanted to become independent once more, but the leaders had decided against it. Uorsar had lost his title as Guardian with the destruction he had caused. The Great War that had lasted nine years was extended by one year because of the rebellion and ended only twenty years ago.

It was strange to think about how Kerrigan’s parents had been a part of the war. They were both at the end of their twenties when it finally ended. His mother had shared stories, as she had begun her training as a healer at the hospital during those times. She was the only one without a Gift who was promoted to a high-ranking position at the end. They had been swamped every day with new patients. Several thousand had lost their lives.

Kerrigan knew his father had been out on the frontlines, fighting alongside other Gifted soldiers. He couldn't help but wonder what he had experienced but his mother had always been vague when it came to details about his father’s involvement in the war. Given that he had been a Guardian, Kerrigan assumed his father must have been right in the middle of everything.

Kerrigan emerged from his thoughts, seeing that Professor Alinav had brought forward another map, one that portrayed their city twenty years ago.

“The final battle occurred in this very city,” Professor Alinav began. “Why is that?”

“Because we underestimated them,” someone answered and Kerrigan turned to see that it was Miron.

“Correct novice Cohen,” she confirmed, before continuing, “Even though Zagoria’s citizens have not received the Divines’ blessings, they made up for it by having their excellent swordsmen. In those days, our forces leaned heavily on the Gifts. Our lack of training in other forms of battle made us vulnerable. The Great War is the very reason why you are being trained to become masters of both.”

She turned towards the worn map, its edges frayed and creased from years of use. “First, let us consider the terrain,” she suggested. “The city presented a labyrinth of obstacles for both attackers and defenders. Can anyone point out advantages and disadvantages?”

Kerrigan looked back at the map, his eyes tracing the intricate lines and symbols that mapped out the city’s streets and buildings. Dark alleys and narrow streets intertwined with large buildings and open squares. It was such a clear-cut answer, he felt somewhat foolish voicing it, but no one was answering. "Zagorians would dodge alleys because they were too narrow for effective swordplay," he responded. "It also gave Gifted more advantage as targets were closer together, reducing aim errors. So, Zagorian warriors would try to keep their fights in open spaces."

Isah gave him an approving smile, silently mouthing good answer.

“Anyone with half a brain could’ve figured that out” Darrow mocked, earning chuckles from friends.

And there Kerrigan understood the reason why no one was answering. It would be nice if Darrow kept skipping Battle briefs. But like everyone else, he probably needed the points this class would give for a good assessment.

"Quiet down, novice Montgomery. I won't tolerate such nonsense in my class." She shot them a glare that instantly silenced them before turning her attention back to Kerrigan. "You're correct, novice Salvater. The alleys would force their soldiers to rely more on close combat, which drew them towards open squares instead. Now, Montgomery, what would be the disadvantage we had to deal with in open areas?”

Darrow looked bored as he answered, "Open squares offer little protection, gifted Terra users could create some, but our energy reserves are limited, and we can't use our Gift endlessly; it only helped so much."

"That's right," Professor Alinav concurred. "In this final fight we realized how disastrous it was to solely rely on our Gifts. We were on the verge of defeat when Uorsar single-handedly decimated half of their forces."

“The irony never fails to amuse me,” a novice chimed in, and some nodded their heads in agreement.

It was quite the contradiction. Kerrigan was sure no one back then would think that the man who had been the city's hero would go down in history as a traitor and madman. And the sole reason the Ignis Gift was shunned

“Why did he turn against us?” another novice asked. The classroom fell silent as Professor Alinav considered the question.

"After our victory over Zagoria, some Undercitizens believed it was time to part ways. There has been speculation that he was promised a powerful role in any new government that might form.”

"They used us and left when it was convenient," Kerrigan heard a novice mutter behind him to his friend. “Leeches.”

There was little love lost between them. Many people of Solcran were still bitter at the Undercitizens for turning their backs on them once the war was over. The Undercity had wanted the Crystals all to themselves, even though it was Solcran who had discovered its properties and protected them from outsiders.

Professor Alinav steered the discussion back to the battle, and they went through what strategies were used by both sides. Kerrigan was taking notes, but his mind was still on the failed rebellion.

His mother had told him about how the council had not been happy, but despite it had decided to let the people vote again on whether to stay united or not. Funnily enough, the majority had voted to stay together. So now they shared the resource, and the Undercity was still under the protection of Solcran’s military.

In his heart, there was no significant fondness or contempt towards them. His past experiences had shown him that people tended to have narrow viewpoints, ignoring anything outside of their own beliefs. The world was not just a dichotomy of good and evil. But the high crime rate in the Undercity didn't do them any favors in improving relations with the Solcrans. And from just the comments he had overheard, and the expressions of fellow novices filled with contempt from just today's lesson, he couldn't help but wonder how long their alliance would last if the wounds of the pasts would not heal.

* * *

The spacious training hall was filled with anticipation as they all waited for Professor Renard to announce the first duel. “Our first match of the day,” he paused, his gaze flicking down to his notebook before returning to meet theirs with an unreadable expression, “will be Cohen and Salvater.”

Kerrigan swallowed, pushing the nervous feeling back; he was ready for this. Although a week wasn't much time of practice, Isah had informed him that Professor Renard wouldn't match him up against a significantly superior opponent. He could be harsh, but he was known for his fairness. And just like Kerrigan, not everyone had prepared to attend Aurelius Academy, so there was a chance for him to gain a few points today.

He moved purposefully towards the circle etched into the stone floor, Miron mirroring his steps from across the arena. They both raised their wooden swords. Miron was lean like him, but smaller than Kerrigan in height. His stance was a little off, his feet a bit too close together.

A curt nod passed between them, and they began circling each other. Evaluating each other.

"This isn't ballet practice!" Professor Renard’s voice cut through the tension like a whip crack.

Miron’s eyebrows furrowed and lunged aggressively. Their wooden swords clashed resoundingly in mid-air as they traded blows. However, Kerrigan noticed Miron’s attack lacked the force behind Isah’s practiced strikes.

Kerrigan deflected another attempted hit with ease and found himself slipping into a rhythm quicker than expected–dodging Miron’s attacks and retaliating with swift precision guided by Isah’s drilled instructions echoing in his mind.

His heart pounded fiercely in his chest; adrenaline coursed through his veins making every sense sharper, every movement more fluid. He honed in on Miron's actions, predicting each strike with a burgeoning confidence that surprised him. He noticed a consistent pattern in Miron's attacks – a brief moment of hesitation before each lunge.

Spotting his chance, Kerrigan deftly sidestepped and landed a quick, sharp blow to Miron's flank, catching him off guard. Miron staggered back but quickly regained his footing.

They circled each other once more. Miron retaliated with a wild swing which overreached its mark, leaving him exposed for a crucial second. Seizing the opportunity, Kerrigan dodged the errant attack and delivered another solid hit to the same spot on Miron’s side.

Shock registered in Miron's widened eyes as his wooden sword clattered onto the ground. Kerrigan raised his sword quickly, pressing the blunt edge of his wooden blade to Miron’s throat.

A moment of stunned silence hung between them before reality sunk into Kerrigan - he had won.

"I yield," came Miron’s surrendering voice and disbelief washed over Kerrigan at how swiftly victory had come.

As they stepped out of the dueling ring, Kerrigan noticed Darrow's gaze fixed on him, anger flashing in his eyes. He half expected Darrow to confront him, but instead Isah came bounding over with a beaming smile. “You won!”

“Yeah,” Kerrigan responded, watching as Darrow turned away to engage another novice in conversation. What was his problem? He never had understood the constant hatred Darrow had for him.

Professor Renard's voice broke through his thoughts, announcing the next match. Two novices took their positions and soon the air was filled with the noise of combat once again.

“That will earn you a few points,” Isah said excitedly. “Keep this up, and we will both be at the top of the leaderboard in no time.”

Kerrigan smiled. “I doubt I will be climbing it as fast as you do.” But the thrill of the duel lingered, leaving a taste of victory that was more delightful than anything he had ever experienced before.

He turned his attention to the ongoing match; their movements were smooth and deliberate, each attack met with a quick retaliation. Even as a novice himself, he could see their high level of skill.

He found himself wondering if this was how Isah would handle herself in a duel. He knew he had much to learn but for once, he felt genuinely thrilled about what lay ahead.