The first morning at the Protector Academy began with a sharp knock on the door.

“Wake up, Initiates! Training starts in thirty minutes!”

Jin groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Ryen, already halfway into his uniform, tossed a pillow at him.

“Come on, Jin. You don’t want to be late on the first day.”

The recruits gathered at the training grounds, a sprawling field surrounded by towering stone walls. The cool morning air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and metal. Arla, their instructor, stood at the center of the field, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Listen up,” she barked. “The life of a Protector isn’t glamorous. You’ll be pushed to your limits—physically, mentally, and magically. If you can’t keep up, you’ll fail. Simple as that.”

She gestured toward a series of obstacle courses. “We’ll begin with endurance training. Complete this course three times. Climbing walls, rope swings, balance beams—if you fall, you start over.”

The recruits exchanged nervous glances. Jin clenched his fists, determination surging through him.

The course was brutal. By the second lap, Jin’s muscles burned, and his breath came in ragged gasps. The walls were slick, the ropes rough against his palms, and the balance beams swayed with every step. He slipped twice, earning himself jeers from a few recruits, but Ryen’s encouraging shout kept him going.

“Don’t give up, Jin!”

By the end of the exercise, Jin collapsed onto the ground, drenched in sweat but relieved to have finished.

After a short break, the recruits were taken to the sparring rings. Rows of weapon racks lined the area, holding wooden swords, spears, and shields.

“Pair up!” Arla ordered.

Jin found himself standing across from Ryen again. This time, Arla walked between the pairs, correcting stances and giving advice.

“Protectors don’t just swing wildly,” she explained. “You need precision, timing, and strategy. Anticipate your opponent’s movements and strike where they’re vulnerable.”

Ryen grinned, raising his wooden sword. “Ready for round two?”

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Jin nodded, adjusting his grip. This time, he focused on his footing and kept his guard up. When Ryen lunged, Jin sidestepped and countered with a quick jab to Ryen’s shoulder.

“Not bad,” Ryen said, stepping back. “You’re learning.”

By the end of the session, Jin had a few bruises but also a newfound confidence.

The recruits were led to one of the academy’s towering lecture halls, where they took their seats in rows of polished wooden desks. The room was illuminated by floating orbs of light, and intricate diagrams of magical symbols were etched into the walls.

Their instructor, a bespectacled man named Professor Thalos, stood at the front. He adjusted his glasses and tapped a glowing staff on the floor, commanding the attention of the room.

“Magic,” he began, his voice steady and measured, “is the manipulation of Rift energy. This energy flows through all living things and the very fabric of our world. Protectors are trained to harness this energy through Talents or structured spells.”

Thalos waved his hand, and a glowing model of a Feralis appeared in the air. Its skeletal structure shimmered as he spoke.

“Feralis are creatures born of corrupted Rift energy. They attack because they crave more energy to sustain themselves. This is why they target humans and settlements—our bodies naturally resonate with Rift energy.”

Jin scribbled notes furiously, fascinated by the professor’s words.

“The Cores you’ve heard about,” Thalos continued, “are concentrated forms of this energy. Depending on the tier of the Feralis, these Cores can be used in various applications, from crafting enchanted items to bolstering protective wards.”

He glanced around the room. “But beware—handling Cores carelessly can lead to disaster. You’ll learn more about their uses and dangers in later lessons.”

After the lecture, the recruits were taken to an open courtyard lined with runes carved into the stone floor.

“For those of you with Talents,” an instructor called out, “this is your chance to refine them. For those without, don’t fret. You’ll be learning the basics of elemental manipulation, which can be achieved with focus and discipline.”

Jin joined a group practicing basic spells. They were given small crystal rods to channel energy, and their task was to create a spark of light.

“Focus your mind,” the instructor said. “Feel the energy around you and will it into existence.”

Jin held the rod tightly, his brow furrowed in concentration. Around him, other recruits managed faint flickers of light, but his rod remained dull.

“Don’t force it,” the instructor advised. “Energy flows naturally. Find the rhythm.”

Taking a deep breath, Jin cleared his mind and tried again. This time, a faint glow appeared at the tip of the rod. It was weak compared to the others, but it was a start.

As the day wound down, Jin and Ryen returned to their dormitory. Exhaustion weighed on Jin’s limbs, but his mind buzzed with everything he had learned.

“What did you think of the magic lessons?” Ryen asked, flopping onto his bed.

Jin smiled faintly. “It was… hard. But interesting. I just wish I could’ve done more.”

“You’ll get there,” Ryen said. “Besides, you’ve got something better than talent—you’ve got grit.”

Jin glanced at the Feralis Core on his desk, its faint glow a constant reminder of what he was up against. He didn’t have a Talent, but he had something just as valuable: the drive to succeed.

As he drifted off to sleep, Jin resolved to push himself harder. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, and he would face them head-on.