(Feydon Ray's point of view)

Everyone has a goal. Even if the goal is to not set goals, we all set them. The idea is to make sure it's something practical and useful, but for me there was only one option. I was born inept, unable to sense mana or cast magic and that meant my future depended entirely on whether I could prove my worth despite my lack of mana.

It would be appropriate to say I had aspirations, though the cruel reality assured I'd never reach them. Although, I never gave up hope. My little sister Kyla was practically born casting spells and had gained her first affinity—fire—before other kids her age had cast their first spell. I might've been beyond the usual, age at seventeen, but if she could get magic at an unprecedented age why couldn't I?

Just as I was about to sit down Kyla's nagging voice rang in my ears.

"Planning to watch me again?" She asked as she walked past me on the lawn.

I didn't offer her an answer, but that didn't stop her from voicing her thoughts.

"If you can't cast basic spells, what can you possibly learn by watching me?"

I felt my lips tugging down but didn't allow them to slip into a frown. "I watch you so that if I ever do get magic I'll know what not to do," I sneered.

I could tell she was struggling to hold back a laugh by the way her lip twitched and her shoulders bounced. In the end, a little snort was all she let slip before giving me a well intentioned but bitter dose of reality. "Fey, at some point you're going to have to grow up, or you can keep living in a fantasy, but you'll never achieve anything like that."

Her words struck a nerve, but some mix of determination and irrational hope kept me going no matter how many similar reminders she offered.

"Everyone calls you a prodigy because you gained your first elemental affinity early; but that doesn't mean you're perfect, or even good," I snorted.

"And they call you inept, a failure, doesn't that embarrass you?"

I shook my head. "Why should I worry about that? There's only two ways I can change their mind. I'd have to become a mage, or become a hero. What do you think, Ky? Do I have a shot?"

"You're hopeless, Fey. Mom's right though, if you're serious about being a knight then you should take your training more seriously."

"Kyla," Sven shouted from the training field then waved for her to come over.

She brushed a strand of wavy auburn hair out of her face, then shot me one last concerned glance before she sighed deeply and went on to meet her instructor in the field.

"I am serious… and that's why I'm watching you. One day, all this knowledge I can't use might actually come in handy," I said once she was out of earshot.

I knew what everyone thought of me, but if I was to become a hero, knowing all there is to know about magic would make that task more feasible.

It might be a lofty dream, but it was a dream I would never give up on. Before the first leviathan was slain everyone said that was impossible too, but Irina did it and she's only the youngest of the twelve heroes.

I watched for a while as my sister hurled fireballs at wooden dummies. After a few throws Sven pointed out some flaws in her stance. She adjusted and the lesson continued monotonously. When the lesson was almost done they both sat on the grass facing each other.

"Fighting a dummy is easy, but in actual combat what really decides the victor?" Sven asked.

"Is that a trick question?" Kyla gasped. "There's so many variables; I don't see a way to narrow it down to just one thing."

Sven chuckled. "Well yes… in most cases there's always a way to overcome your opponent, but there is one thing that will win every time, no matter what."

"Oh really?" Ky crossed her arms across her chest and leaned back, "and what is that?"

"Runes," Sven said with an air of mystique as he wiggled all of his fingers beside his face like he was spreading glitter in the air.

"Runes," Ky sneered.

"Runes!" Sven repeated. "Runes are a mage's ace in the hole."

"Runes are powerful, but not a guaranteed win." Ky said dismissively. "Besides, it's rare for anyone to have runes anyway."

"I'll agree that it's rare to meet someone with a rune in a border city like this one, but you've lived a pretty sheltered life here. In the capital, any mage worth their salt will have at least two." He said, holding up two fingers. "And even a weak rune can turn the tide of battle if you aren't prepared for it."

"Fine. So runes are like a trump card, but what difference does that make for me? It's not like I can just go get one whenever I want to."

"Maybe not, but when you get to Sky Haven you'll have plenty of opportunities to earn one. That should be your top priority because a rune could be the difference between first class or the rejects curriculum."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Kyla scowled in response but it was clear she understood his meaning. Given her ability to use three elements, Kyla would have to score pretty poorly on the practical exam to get put in the dust mage course.

They both laughed then Sven added. "More importantly, if you find yourself face to face with a beast, a rune could save your life."

His comments were a sobering reminder that even for mages, fighting beasts is dangerous. If I somehow made it as a magic knight, I'd have to do just that, only without magic.

They continued talking, but I had already stayed longer than I intended to. If I waited much longer I wouldn't make it around the house to the courtyard in time for my lesson with Emilia.

The gate swung shut behind me with a loud clang. Emilia was standing at the center of the courtyard with her back to me, her ponytail swaying with the breeze. Wind blew through the branches of magnolia trees that lined the walls of the courtyard. Birds chipped beautifully as white flower petals drifted to the ground.

Emilia turned her head just enough to see me. She was frowning. Her eyes, outlined by subtle black eyeliner and smokey eye shadow, pierced through me like an arrow. An instant later Emilia was charging towards me, sword in hand.

"Shit!" I realized I must've been late. If I'd been on time then today would have been a normal lesson, but Emilia was already upon me and I hadn't even had time to grab a practice sword yet.

I spun right to avoid a vertical slash and grabbed a practice sword from the rack as I passed by it. In the process I pulled the entire rack down between Emilia and I, but this didn't slow her even the slightest.

As the sword rack was still falling, Emilia stepped onto the rack, flipped over my head, then kicked off of the stone wall to launch herself toward me.

I barely managed to twist around and bring up my sword in time to parry her blow. There was an opening, but before I could counter, she moved with inhuman speed and precision to slash at me again.

She knew I didn't have magic, but that wasn't going to stop her from using it.

With flawless form and speed I couldn't match, Emilia danced around me, striking with perfect precision. I blocked a blow to my left shoulder, but an instant later was struck from the right, just below my rib cage. Then she slashed at my legs, I jumped and raised my sword to parry a cross slash that I knew was coming. I'd experienced this dance of death more times than I cared to remember, and yet, if not for those loathsome memories…

I blocked another slash aimed at my sword arm, this time knocking Emilia off balance in the process, but before I could bring up my sword to counter, she was already stabbing toward my gut. I spun left to avoid the stab, but wound up spinning straight into a kick.

An elbow to the face busted my lip and sent me stumbling backward. Emilia came to a complete standstill. Her posture was tense and her stern expression hardened further. Her ire wasn't done, and neither was the lesson.

I dove forward, rolling to avoid staying still for too long. Now the real lesson was about to begin. Three spikes shot out from the stone wall. They each passed over me as I rolled, the lowest of which grazed my back. A line of red followed the stone until both crashed against the far wall of the courtyard.

The scrape on my back stung, but it was only surface level. I was used to much worse and despite my body's protest, I had learned to push through the pain.

'This isn't fair,' I thought. 'She's supposed to teach me how to fight, but it feels like she's trying to kill me instead.' I would've cried out in protest, but if I hadn't kept moving then she might've actually killed me.

Now that we'd reached the portion of the lesson where Emilia stopped limiting herself to mere body enhancement, I couldn't stand still for a moment or I'd be—

A burst of bright orange fire sprang up from the ground like a geyser in front of me. Due to the blanket of white flowers, I nearly missed the glow that warned of the coming blast. I was able to pivot and twist around the fire, but I came dangerously close to getting incinerated.

Emilia swung her sword several times without moving. These looked like totally harmless slashes, but a series of long groves in the stone wall were evidence to the contrary. In the past I hadn't noticed it, but a subtle disturbance of petals both on the ground and in the air, indicated the arch of the wind blades. A series of leaps, twirls allowed me to avoid the first few invisible blades.

My confidence was riding high after consecutive perfect evasions, I was circling around Emilia, slowly making my way back towards her and soon, I might be able to strike at her.

For the first time in a while I saw a smile creep onto her face, but it faded quickly. Then I noticed a disturbance of petals and realized that I hadn't avoided all of the wind blades. Stopping on my toes I managed to hold my position for half a second. It was long enough to let the blade pass, but I stumbled forward right after.

In the space of a breath, Emilia had closed the gap between us and assaulted me with a barrage of unblockable slashes. The force of her blows both bruised and broke skin. By some miracle, she didn't break any bones, but when she was done, I collapsed to my knees, no longer able to stand. Before I fell on my face, I stabbed my sword into the ground and used it to support my weak body.

My clothes were glued to my skin with a mix of sweat, blood, and dirt. I was so exhausted that kneeling with the support of my practice sword was an almost impossible task. "Please… I can't go on."

Emilia stood in stark contrast to me. There was no visible evidence that she'd just participated in any sort of strenuous activity. In fact, there wasn't so much as a drop of sweat on her. Nor a speck of dirt on her white leggings. Her make up still looked perfect and she still smelled sweet like honey.

Dropping her sword, she adjusted her shirt then glanced at me for a moment. Her expression was hard but somewhat sympathetic. "If you're going to show up late, the least you could do is provide me your full attention during practice."

The suggestion that I was distracted seemed completely nonsensical. It had taken all of my focus just to not die. Emilia must've known that, but I could only assume she was giving me an excuse for the sorry state I was in.

I wasn't jealous of the aroma itself, but of the fact that she still smelled like flowers while I would need a vigorous scrub to wash away the smell of blood and defeat.

I glanced up at her to acknowledge what she'd just said. She was still scowling, but even with a frown her crystal blue eyes were the pretties— realizing that I was about to start fantasizing over my brutal trainer, I scolded myself. 'No! She's a devil! A DEVIL, there's no way I'm even the least bit attracted to this—'

"I showed you mercy today, but next time you're late, it better be because you no longer need my training."

'She demon.' I silently finished as I watched her sashay out of the courtyard. When she was finally out of view I released my sword and let myself fall onto the soft dirt. With a deep sigh I rolled onto my back and stared up at the sky for several minutes until I regained feeling in my body and felt confident I could make the long walk back to my room for a bath and proper rest.

'I've got to stop getting caught up in my sister's lessons.' I thought, lamenting the harsh training I'd just endured, if it could even be called training. Emilia called it mercy, but to me it felt more like a one sided beating. It would be inconceivable to expect me to learn any swordsmanship from such a lesson.