The following morning, Ark found himself standing in the family training grounds, a vast expanse bordered by high stone walls and shaded by towering oaks. The crisp morning air carried a faint chill, though Ark’s focus on the task ahead kept him warm.

Master Darius stood before him, his expression stern. “The Duke expects you to succeed in the tournament, Lord Arkadius. That means you must advance quickly in your training. Control over the wind is a rare gift, but raw talent alone will not save you in combat.”

Ark nodded, his golden eyes steady. “I’m ready to begin.”

Darius raised an eyebrow, his tone sharp. “We’ll see about that. Show me what you learned yesterday.”

Ark extended his hand, concentrating on the invisible currents around him. The faint whisper of wind began to stir, swirling gently at first, then growing in intensity. With a flick of his wrist, Ark directed the current toward a nearby training dummy, sending it tumbling backward.

Darius frowned. “Impressive for a beginner, but too slow. In battle, your enemy won’t wait for you to summon a breeze.” He motioned for Ark to step back and gestured toward the dummy.

“Again.”

Ark gritted his teeth and obeyed. Over the next hour, the exercises grew more demanding. Darius pushed him to refine his precision, increase his speed, and maintain his focus even under pressure. By the time they stopped, Ark’s arms felt heavy, and his mind was clouded with exhaustion.

“That’s enough for today,” Darius said, his voice softening slightly. “You have potential, but potential means nothing without discipline. Rest. Tomorrow, we push harder.”

Ark nodded silently, his body aching but his determination unwavering.

Later that afternoon, Ark wandered the halls of the Calderon estate, drawn by an urge to uncover more about the magic he wielded. The family library was an expansive chamber filled with shelves that seemed to stretch endlessly upward, their spines adorned with titles on history, politics, and magic.

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As he browsed, his fingers brushed against an old, leather-bound book tucked in a shadowy corner of the shelves. The spine bore no title, and the leather felt strangely warm to the touch. Intrigued, Ark pulled it free and opened the cover. The pages were filled with strange symbols and diagrams—runes he couldn’t decipher.

“What have you found?”

The sudden voice made Ark jump. Luna stood in the doorway, her silver hair glinting in the sunlight that streamed through the high windows. She approached him, her eyes scanning the book in his hands.

“This... isn’t part of the usual collection,” Luna said, her tone cautious. “Where did you find it?”

Ark gestured to the dark corner of the shelves. “It was hidden behind the other books. Do you recognize it?”

Luna shook her head. “No, but these symbols... they look like ancient wind runes. They’re not common in noble magic. Most focus on elemental control, not the language of the elements themselves.”

Ark’s interest deepened. “Could this help me master my powers?”

Luna hesitated, then nodded. “It’s possible, but deciphering these runes will take time—and secrecy. If this book was hidden, there may be a reason for it.”

As Ark and Luna pored over the mysterious tome in his chambers, the door suddenly burst open. Victor strode in, his smirk as sharp as ever.

“What’s this?” he asked, glancing at the open book. “A secret study session with the maid? How quaint.”

Ark closed the book quickly, his golden eyes meeting Victor’s dark gaze. “What do you want, Victor?”

Victor chuckled. “Father asked me to spar with you tomorrow. Apparently, he thinks you’re making progress with your magic. I volunteered to remind him why I’m the heir.”

Ark’s jaw tightened, but he forced himself to stay calm. “I’ll be ready.”

Victor’s grin widened. “Good. Try not to embarrass yourself, little brother.” With that, he turned and left, his laughter echoing down the hall.

Luna placed a hand on Ark’s shoulder, her expression concerned. “You shouldn’t let him provoke you.”

Ark smiled faintly. “I’m not. If anything, this is a chance to test what I’ve learned—and to show him I’m not the same boy he’s always looked down on.”

That night, Ark stood on his balcony once more, the mysterious tome resting on the railing beside him. The runes on the pages seemed to glow faintly under the moonlight, as if responding to his presence.

He raised his hand, feeling the wind stir around him. It was stronger now, more responsive, as if the element itself recognized his growing connection.

“The winds of change are here,” Ark murmured to himself. “I won’t just survive in this world. I’ll rise above it.”

The breeze carried his words into the night, and for the first time, Ark felt the faintest trace of destiny guiding him forward.