Early morning light filtered through the trees as Kahel stood on the edge of the training grounds, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. His eyes were focused on Rein, who calmly stood across from him, waiting. The air was still but for the occasional rustling of leaves, and Kahel’s heart pounded in his chest. This was it—the start of something new. Not play sparring he once did with Elion; this was serious training from Rein.
“Ready?” Rein’s voice cut calmly through the stillness.
Kahel nodded. “I am.”
He wasn’t all that certain that was true. His body was taut with expectation, but his mind felt clear. Something had been changed inside him since Elion died. Those were the days of freedom and abandon. Now, Kahel wanted a single thing—to be strong, strong enough that no one would ever make him feel helpless again. Strong enough to save people like Elion.
Rein watched him for a while longer before his voice came again. “It isn’t in wanting that strength will come to you. You will have to earn it. And that won’t be easy.”
Kahel’s hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, his resolve setting like concrete. “I know.”
Rein took a step forward, pulling his sword out in one graceful motion. “Then let’s get this over with.”
The first strike came fast—faster than Kahel expected. Rein’s sword flashed toward him, and Kahel only narrowly raised his own in time to block it. The force of the impact sent shockwaves through his arms, but he managed to stand his ground.
“Good,” Rein said, stepping back before readjusting. “You’re quick, but your form is sloppy.”
Kahel gritted his teeth in frustration, but he knew he needed to get better. He shifted his stance to the way Rein had taught him many times before and readied his guard for the next attack.
An hour passed by, each clash of their swords reverberating across the empty training ground. Rein’s blows never ceased, each blow pushing Kahel to his limits, farther than he had ever been. His body screamed in protest, muscles aflame with exertion, but he refused to stop.
“Don’t focus on the power,” Rein said as he parried one of Kahel’s attacks. “Focus on control. Without it, you’re just swinging blind.”
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Kahel nodded, fighting to steady his breathing. Control. That was the key. He had the strength, the speed—Elion’s Viera had given him that—but without control, it was useless.
Rein’s next strike came low, catching at Kahel’s legs. He reacted instinctively, jumping back just in time, but his foot caught on the uneven ground and he stumbled.
“Again,” Rein ordered, his tone unforgiving.
Kahel scrambled up, panting, and readied his sword once more. It was building inside of him, but he knew better than to let it take over. Rein was right. He had to stay focused.
They continued, the pace quickening as Kahel began to adapt to Rein’s attacks. His actions became sharper, more precise, and the sword felt natural in his hand, like an extension of his body. But even as he improved, he could feel Rein holding back—testing him, but not going all out. And that stung.
“I can do more,” Kahel said, his voice tight with frustration. “I need to be better than this.”
Rein’s gaze turned hard. “You’re not ready for more.”
Kahel’s jaw clenched. He knew Rein was right, but the need to push himself, to be stronger gnawed at him. The image of Elion lying helpless on the ground wouldn’t leave his head. That wouldn’t happen again.
“You want power,” Rein said, inching nearer, “but power without control is useless. You’re learning fast, Kahel, but there’s still much more to understand.”
Kahel didn’t say a word, the cool night air reflected in his silent regard for the sword in his hand, its pull familiar and foreign. ‘Empyreal rift’ The power he took upon Elion,s death flowed through him, but he was raw. He felt it in his body, the quicksilver motion sharper than his previous self. Yet again, it wasn’t enough. Not yet.
“Again,” Rein said, softer this time. “But don’t rely on the Viera alone. Focus on the basics.”
Kahel nodded, resetting his stance. Took another breath in, centered himself, and then charged forward. He didn’t think about the speed this time, didn’t think about the power. He let the sword guide him, his movements smooth and controlled.
Rein met his strike, and their blades clashed once more, but this time Kahel didn’t falter. His feet stayed steady, his body moving with purpose. He wasn’t just reacting; he was fighting. For a moment, Kahel saw something in his eyes: approval, maybe, or acknowledgment. But it was fleeting, lasting just a second.
The sparring continued, and Kahel’s body continued to deteriorate with every passing minute. He sweated profusely; his arms hurt, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.
Finally, by the time they finished, the sun was at an almost perpendicular angle in the sky, and Kahel fell straight to the ground, lungs heaving for air.
“You did well,” Rein said, though his tone was still firm. “But this is only the beginning.”
Kahel nodded, too tired even to talk. He stared up at the sky—the weight of the morning’s training settling over him. He had a long way to go, but for the first time, he felt like he was on the right path.
Rein stood over him, his expression unreadable. “You want to save people like Elion. I understand that well enough. Wanting it doesn’t make it so. You’ll need more than just strength to keep that promise.”
Kahel closed his eyes, the memory of Elion’s death flashing across his mind. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Rein was silent a moment, then nodded. “Good. Then we’ll continue tomorrow. Rest while you can. The worst is yet to come.”
Kahel laid there for a long time after Rein walked away, his body too tired to move, yet his mind racing. He knew Rein was right, this was only the beginning. There was so much more he needed to learn, so much more he needed to become. But he would get there. He had to. For Elion. For the village. For everyone.
With that thought in mind, Kahel finally let exhaustion take him down, knowing that tomorrow he would push himself further.