The high street shops of South Tusk exuded a polished elegance that sharply contrasted with the rest of the city. Streets here were paved with smooth cobblestones, lined with manicured hedges and ornate lamp posts. Shops with grand façades stood shoulder to shoulder, with windows displaying finely crafted wares: intricate jewelry, richly embroidered fabrics, and polished leather goods.

Adrian walked beside Selena as they looked for a suitable clothing shop. Her sharp eyes darted from storefront to storefront, assessing each establishment with an appraising glance.

The boy adjusted the sleeves of his plain tunic, feeling out of place amidst the opulence. Why do I feel like everyone’s staring at me? He kept his hands in his pockets, his gaze flicking between the passing pedestrians. “So, where exactly are we going?”

Selena glanced at him. “You’ll see,” she replied, her tone carrying an edge of mischief.

She stopped abruptly in front of a shop with gilded lettering across the top: Edelweiss Atelier. The windows showcased elegant garments draped over mannequins. Rich velvet cloaks, embroidered waistcoats, and flowing gowns filled the displays.

“This is the place,” Selena said, gesturing toward the door. “They’re the best in South Tusk. If we’re getting you anything remotely suitable for the ball, it’s going to be from here.”

Adrian raised an eyebrow, eyeing the shop warily. “You’re serious? This looks... expensive.”

Selena laughed softly, brushing past him toward the door. “Of course it is, but don't worry, Master Lysander has given us not insignificant budget."

"Okay, if you say so."

The interior of Edelweiss Atelier had shelves displaying bolts of fine fabric in every imaginable hue, while mannequins showcased clothing so meticulously crafted that it was almost intimidating.

Adrian shifted uncomfortably as Selena approached the counter, where a sharply dressed tailor greeted her with a warm smile. His attire was immaculate, from the crisp collar of his shirt to the gold watch chain glinting against his waistcoat.

“Welcome back, Miss Selena,” the man said in a cheerful tone. His eyes flicked toward Adrian, taking in his plain clothed with a faint twitch of disapproval before returning to her. “How can we assist you today?”

Selena smiled graciously, gesturing toward Adrian. “We’re here to fit him for something appropriate for a ball. He’ll need the works, formal attire, tailored perfectly.”

“Of course. Follow me.”

Adrian sighed inwardly as he trailed after Selena and the tailor toward a fitting area at the back of the shop. Great. I’m about to be poked, prodded, and judged for the next hour.

The fitting room was spacious, its walls lined with mirrors framed in gold. A plush carpet covered the floor, and a small pedestal stood in the center. The tailor motioned for Adrian to step onto it. “Please remove your tunic, sir."

Adrian hesitated, glancing at Selena, who had taken a seat on a nearby chaise lounge. She was watching him with an amused glint in her eyes. “Don’t be shy, it’s not the first time I’ve seen someone fitted for a suit.”

Grumbling under his breath, Adrian complied, pulling off his tunic and stepping onto the pedestal. The tailor worked efficiently, taking his measurements while occasionally murmuring notes about his frame and posture.

Adrian stood stiffly, his hands at his sides, trying not to think about how out of place he felt. All this effort for a suit I’ll wear once?

After the measurements were complete, the tailor disappeared momentarily before returning with several swatches of fabric. He held them up one by one, consulting with Selena as if Adrian wasn’t even there.

“This shade of blue would complement his complexion nicely,” the tailor suggested, holding up a piece of fabric.

Selena nodded thoughtfully. “And perhaps a touch of silver embroidery for the detailing. It should be subtle but elegant.”

Adrian raised an eyebrow. “You’re both acting like I’m a mannequin."

Selena laughed softly. “Relax, Adrian. You’ll look great.”

The tailor stepped back with a satisfied nod. “Very well. We’ll prepare the garments for a fitting later this afternoon. Until then, feel free to browse our accessories.”

Adrian stepped down from the pedestal, slipping his tunic back on. He followed Selena to another section of the shop, where displays of cufflinks, pocket watches, and cravats gleamed under glass cases.

Selena picked up a pair of silver cufflinks shaped like crescent moons and held them up to him. “These would match the embroidery, what do you think?”

Adrian shrugged. “I think they’re cufflinks.”

Selena rolled her eyes, placing them on the counter. “You really don’t appreciate fine things, do you?”

“I just focus on more… important things,” he shot back.

"Please, you're going to thank me after all of this is done."

Eventually, with the order finalized and instructions given for the suit’s adjustments, they stepped out of the shop into the fading light of early evening. Adrian adjusted his tunic, feeling slightly more relaxed now that the ordeal was over.

“See?” Selena said as they walked. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Before Adrian could respond, a sharp voice cut through the relative quiet. “Well, well. Isn’t this a lucky evening?”

Adrian’s body tensed as three figures stepped out from an alleyway ahead, their faces partially obscured by scarves. Each of them carried swords, knives, clubs, and even more "creative" options, such as a wooden plank stuffed with spikes.

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

From behind, the sound of footsteps made him glance over his shoulder. Two more figures emerged, effectively blocking their path. Great, "entertainment".

Selena’s posture stiffened, but her expression remained calm. “Bandits."

Adrian stepped in front of Selena slightly, his gaze narrowing as he took in the attackers. "I don't assume you gentlemen are here to escort us home?"

The one with a short sword, clearly the leader, grinned wickedly. “You look like you’ve got coin to spare. Why not make this easy and hand it over?”

Adrian smirked faintly, his stance shifting as he prepared for what he knew was coming. “Why not make this easy and walk away? You’re making a mistake.”

The leader’s grin faltered slightly, but he held his ground. “You really think I'm gonna listen to some white haired brat?"

"No, I wasn't expecting idiots like you to listen to anyone."

"Why you little—"

The leader snarled and lunged forward, but drian didn’t flinch. With a sharp inhale, he prepared his counterattack.

A roar of blue flame erupted from his mouth, enveloping the man in an instant. The leader’s scream was drowned out by the whoosh of fire, and he staggered backward, clutching his seared face before collapsing onto the ground.

The other bandits hesitated for a split second before rushing forward, their weapons raised. Adrian’s eyes flickered with intensity as he extended his hand. A burst of flame shot outward, striking the second man directly in the chest. The fire spread over his tattered clothes, forcing him to drop his club as he fell, rolling on the ground in a desperate attempt to smother the flames.

“Anyone else?” Adrian asked.

Two bandits approached cautiously, their movements slowing as they exchanged uneasy glances. Adrian didn’t give them time to decide. He inhaled deeply and unleashed another stream of fire, sweeping it across the space in front of him. The searing heat forced them to scatter, one dropping his weapon while the other scrambled behind a pile of crates.

From behind him, he heard hurried footsteps. Adrian turned sharply, a flicker of flame already forming in his hand. A knife-wielding bandit lunged from the shadows, but Adrian stepped forward with another fiery exhale, the blue blaze engulfing the man before he could get close. The attacker’s cry was brief as he dropped to the ground, writhing in pain before rolling away.

Adrian’s flames flared brighter, casting eerie shadows against the walls of the alley. He faced the last two remaining bandits, who stood frozen in place.

“Leave,” Adrian commanded.

One bandit dropped his weapon with a clatter, his face pale. “Screw this!"

The man bolted, his companion close on his heels, leaving their fallen comrades behind. Finally.

The flames around Adrian slowly subsided, the light dimming as the heat dissipated. He turned to Selena, who had remained surprisingly calm throughout the encounter.

“Are you alright?” Adrian asked.

Selena’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Perfectly fine. Impressive work, by the way. I almost feel bad for them.”

Adrian huffed. “They didn’t give me much choice, though, I'm more surprised by how calm you are seeing all that."

"I've… seen worse, but enough about that. We should get back as soon as possible."

***

When Adrian and Selena entered the foyer of the Whitewynn estate, a familiar figure emerged from the adjoining hall. Lysander?

Adrian’s brow furrowed. “Were you waiting for me?"

Lysander’s expression was unreadable as he spoke. “Selena, leave us. I wish to speak with Adrian privately.”

Selena hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Very well, I'll take my leave” she said, her voice carefully neutral. She shot Adrian a brief look before turning on her heel and heading toward the upper floors.

Adrian watched her ascend the staircase, the sound of her footsteps fading into the vastness of the mansion. His focus shifted back to Lysander, who stood as still and unyielding as a statue. “Alright, what do you want?”

"There's something else I need you to do, just follow me."

"Is it… uh, urgent?"

"Yes, but it won't take long."

Adrian followed Lysander as the man led him through various rooms in the manor. Oddly enough, the patriarch didn't speak a single word as they walked. What could be so urgent?

The two descended a staircase hidden behind a painting depicting a Whitewynn ancestor. At the bottom, Lysander pushed open a heavy iron door, revealing a sprawling underground training arena.

The arena was lit by enchanted torches that burned steadily along the stone walls, their glow reflecting off an array of weapon racks filled with swords, spears, and axes.

There were several training dummies, some made of straw and others reinforced with metal plating. A few targets lined one side of the room, their centers riddled with scorch marks, slashes, and punctures.

Lysander walked to the center of the room, gesturing for Adrian to follow. “Welcome to my personal training grounds. This is where I train Natasha and my other trusted staff."

Adrian crossed his arms. “So, why bring me here?"

“Because I want to test you. A sparring match. No magic.”

“No magic? Why?”

“Anything can happen during the ball. An enemy could slip something into your drink, rendering you unable to summon your flames. Or perhaps a hex could suppress your powers. In the worst-case scenario, you may find yourself forced to fight without your magic. I want to make sure you’re prepared for that.”

Adrian frowned but nodded slowly. “Alright. I get it. I’ll spar with you.”

“Good. Choose your weapon.”

Adrian walked over to the racks, scanning the options. He picked a short sword, testing its weight in his hand. It was well-balanced, though heavier than he expected. Returning to the center of the arena, he saw Lysander already holding a similar weapon.

Lysander took a defensive stance. “We'll start when you're ready."

Adrian mirrored his stance as best as he could, gripping his sword tightly. This is going to be rough.

"I'm ready." Adrian said.

"Then go ahead and make the first move."

Adrian moved first, darting forward with a quick slash aimed at Lysander’s side. The older man deflected it effortlessly, twisting his wrist to guide Adrian’s blade away. Before the boy could recover, Lysander struck back with a swift thrust.

Adrian barely managed to sidestep, his smaller size allowing him to dodge the blow. Despite this, Lysander pressed the attack. Each strike forced Adrian to backpedal, arms straining under the force of the blows. Despite his best efforts, Adrian couldn’t find an opening. Damn it, he's good.

“Your grip is too tight,” Lysander said as he parried another attack. “Relax your hands."

Adrian adjusted his grip and tried to focus on Lysander’s advice, but the man’s sheer size and skill made it difficult to keep up. Yeah, this is about as unfair as it gets.

The boy feinted left, then swung from the right, hoping to catch Lysander off guard. The Whitewynn patriatch sidestepped smoothly, countering with a strike aimed at Adrian’s shoulder.

Adrian ducked, narrowly avoiding the blow, but his footing slipped, and he stumbled. Damn it!

Lysander stopped his blade an inch from Adrian’s neck. “Your stance is unsteady. Keep your weight balanced, especially when attempting feints. Overcommitting will leave you vulnerable.”

Adrian gritted his teeth. “I get it, thanks."

Lysander stepped back, lowering his sword. “You’re doing well for someone your size and age. But remember, technique can compensate for what you lack in strength"

Adrian nodded, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. "Got it, I'll do better next time."

“Again,” Lysander said, raising his weapon.