As Alaric watched Aiden demonstrate the intricate Dance of the Sword, his mind flashed back to a moment in his past. About four years ago.

“The Dance of the Sword?” Alaric had asked the black knight towering over a meter above him. He looked at the poorly carved wooden stick she’d handed him for practice.

“Yes. A fighting style fit for a king,” the towering knight paused with a smirk, “…and the only way you’ll ever grow strong enough to realise your true power.”

“Alright then. How do I learn this Dance of the Sword?” Alaric pondered. Since awakening, he’d been yearning to grow into his power. He was surprised to find that his senses, without any effort, had already grown much sharper and his strength had gone up by leaps and bounds.

At the time, he was nothing but an ignorant eleven-year-old hungry for power. Impressive as Alia’s awakening had been, this was nowhere near enough to satiate him. Even with the power to lift a boulder his weight with little effort, he knew he was still too weak. Not leaving any room to celebrate his increase in power, he was already eager to grow even stronger.

At the time, he didn’t recognize how blessed he’d been to gain power in any other way than through sheer effort. So anything to push him towards his goal faster was welcome.

As a beginner, he didn’t know the harrowing journey of a swordsman, the patience it took, the practice it took to add an ounce of speed to his abilities, to add a second to his endurance, to sharpen his swings to new heights, to naturally temper his body and hone his abilities to the sharp tip he so desired.

He endured arduous training, tirelessly pushing his body to its very limits and earning himself a litany of scars, bruises, a few dislocations and sprains… but he never gave up. With each mountain he climbed, he found himself at the bottom of yet another towering mountain.

Not only was the Dance of the Sword physically tasking but it was also vastly intricate, hoarding numerous nuances to the way of the sword that were all difficult to learn.

Even now, after four years, he was nowhere near the pinnacle of strength he desired. If anything, he’d learned to have the patience to allow himself to improve bit by bit, amassing strength through consistent training and hard work.

Alaric would not give up…

As he stared at the Dance of the Snake and Mongoose, his memories resonated within him, reminding him of the day he’d mastered the basics of this dance.

Unfortunately, there was more to the dance he’d not mastered. From what Alia had told him though, he’d learnt about everything his current physique was capable of… and he would need to revisit it once he’d grown stronger physically.

Staring without taking an eye off the dancing Aspirant, he watched Aiden replicate this dance with the accuracy of a thread through a needle.

[Didn’t you say the Dance of the Sword was extinct?] Alaric’s voice echoed deep into his mind.

Alia’s voice came a moment later [I also remember saying Old Blood runs deep in Jack’s Fall.]

There it was again… The phrase he’d heard so many times in this village. So now he knew the memories preserved in this town were old enough to retain the elusive forms of the Dance of the Sword.

“That fighting style… Alaric, isn’t that?” Darla shivered.

The boy nodded in confirmation. Aside from himself, Darla and Finn had trained along with him, learning the difficult forms to grow along with him.

Finn’s eyes remained pinned on the performance before them, unable to lift another piece of cake to his mouth. For the first time since the start of the festival, he looked serious.

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Alaric walked to the rails, looking down at the scene before them intently. His friends joined him in quiet awe.

Aiden strained against the limits of his human body, going through the forms and katas of the fighting style with shaky precision, weaving through the different katas as smoothly as he was capable.

He parried, side-stepped and danced around the spirit serpent that continued to attack in patterns natural to snakes but also in rhythm with the choreography he’d learned at Master Jill’s manor.

The snake struck with lightning-fast speed, its coils following in a chaotic frenzy that kept everyone in the audience in tension. And yet, Aiden was always a step ahead, side-stepping at the right moment, cutting at the scales of the powerful beast, deflecting its venomous fangs with pinpoint precision whilst weaving through its coils as though he knew where it would be at every moment.

Alaric watched as the speed of the duel grew even faster for human eyes to follow, a feat that shouldn’t have been possible for the boy who hadn’t yet awakened his guardian. Of course, Alaric wouldn’t know this considering he’d not started training until his guardian awakened.

Aiden blurred across the podium with the graceful skill of a seasoned swordsman, reaching high for the limits of his human body. At this point, he’d performed a feat far greater than Alaric had ever hoped for him… and yet, in the next moment, his ghostly sword struck the python’s scaly hide and cut through till it emerged from the other side, severing the giant python’s neck clean off its body.

Aiden landed right at the centre of the podium with the sword at his side. His breathing was heavy and beads of sweat covered his brow. But then, he settled into a different stance.

The python vanished in a swirl of sparks. Signs of exhaustion could be seen manifesting on Aiden’s body. His stance looked perfect but Alaric could see how he balanced his weight to favour his right foot and how he shifted his elbow just a bit lower not to strain his muscles. His breathing also looked strained and yet, his eyes burned with a fire like no other…

With a determined expression, he started a new choreography, this one also known to Alaric. The crowd gasped.

“What’s that boy thinking? He’ll die if he goes too far beyond his capabilities,” Master Jill snapped from his seat.

The spirit of Master Jack standing behind Alaric snapped at the old man and put a finger to his lips, mouthing the words, ‘Stay quiet.’

The words were accompanied by a death glare and head movement that pointed towards Alaric. Master Jill sat back in his seat and furrowed his brows in angry silence.

Aiden, whose mind was completely focused on the task ahead continued to follow the forms he’d learned over the years. He’d never been perfect at the katas taught to him by old Master Jill… and yet, as he went through the dance, performing one form after the other, stringing them together to form an intricate dance, he found himself unable to back down.

So what if he didn’t know the katas to the bone? So what if he had never had that much interest in sword-fighting? So what if he’d never wanted this so badly in his life until this VERY moment? So what if his ambitions had never shone through this brightly before?

His motivation might have come late but Aiden was determined to see this through to the end… And so he fought… and bound every fibre in his being to his will, unleashing the full might of his human body. No, even more than that, he was determined to fly past those heights.

He allowed himself to embody the dreams and ambitions of his vessel. To harness all that he desired and truly aspired to become and pour them out into this very moment. In this moment, he would become the embodiment of his iron will.

‘Are you watching, Alaric? You better not blink,’ his thoughts echoed.

As he danced, a new silhouette of a tiger took form before him, striking with its mighty paws and devastating speed. His body, however, embodied the long reach and agility of a praying mantis.

He leapt through the air, evading the tiger’s paws and reaching right within striking range. His sword flashed through the air in well-calculated slashes and thrusts only to leap away in time to avoid the paw that threatened to crush him…

…But he wasn’t done. He struck again only moments after, dancing around the tiger with impeccable elegance. His mind remained clear and as tranquil as a still lake as he continued to string the pieces of the intricate dance together.

Until today, he’d never understood the importance of the different katas… Now, however, they made all the sense in the world and with that understanding, he unravelled countless possibilities and peered into a tapestry of swordsmanship far beyond his capabilities.

A smirk graced his face as he ducked to avoid the slash of the tiger’s claw only to shoot forward and deliver a glaring gash to the creature’s side. The tiger twisted and slammed its paw on the ground, missing the agile swordsman by a hair’s breadth only to receive another cut on its other side.

Flashing faster across the podium, the battle raged on in an elegant display of swordsmanship and savagery.

A spirit in one of the front rows, a little girl, stood up and raised her hand in silent approval. At this point, the whole Colosseum had gone completely quiet, each of the spectators too ensnared by the performance for them to speak.

A silver orb floated above the fight, responding to the little girl’s gesture with a subtle glow. Shimmering motes of light floated from her hand and filtered into the silver orb. Alaric easily recognized this orb.

This was Aiden’s Awakening Orb.