The sun hung high over the academy's training field, its golden rays casting long shadows across the carefully maintained grounds. The rhythmic hum of magic intertwined with the swift movements of combat, bursts of mana flashing as spells and strikes collided. The air vibrated with energy, each clash sending faint ripples through the training ground.
Adrian Tharan stood at the center of the field, his wooden sword humming faintly with infused mana. His stance was steady, honed by years of rigorous training under his family's demanding tutelage. The break period meant little to him—while others sought rest and idle chatter, he found solace in practice, each strike sharpening his control over both blade and spell.
Around him, noble students engaged in their own sparring sessions. Some wielded enchanted weapons, while others conjured spells with swift gestures. Fireballs and arcane bolts zipped through the air, meeting shimmering barriers or being deflected with precise counterspells. The training field was both a battleground and a social arena where status, skill, and cunning were constantly tested.
"Still training even during break, Adrian?" a voice called out. It was Dorian Vael, a fellow noble with a sharp wit and an even sharper control over his arcane blade. He approached with an easy confidence, his wooden sword crackling with faint sparks of energy. Dorian was one of Adrian's more cunning rivals, always looking for an opportunity to push him to his limits.
Adrian smirked, rolling his shoulders as he adjusted his grip. "If you want to keep up, you should be doing the same."
Dorian chuckled, stepping onto the field. "Then let's see if all that effort pays off. A quick match?"
Before Adrian could answer, another voice interjected. "If you're going to duel, I want in on the next round."
Selene Arventis strode up, her arms crossed as she observed them with a measured gaze. She was one of Adrian's most supportive friends, always willing to offer advice or criticism where needed. Her approach to combat was disciplined and precise, her blade flickering briefly with a controlled aura of wind magic.
Nearby, another student scoffed. "You sword-wielders always act like you're the center of combat." It was Lysander Rowe, a skilled mage whose hands glowed faintly with gathered mana. Unlike the warriors, he relied solely on magic, weaving intricate glyphs in the air with a casual flick of his fingers.
"Why not make it interesting?" Cassian Dorne suggested as he leaned lazily against a post. Unlike Selene, his interest was less about support and more about entertainment. With a flick of his fingers, faint motes of fire danced at his fingertips. "Winner stays in the ring, loser swaps out. That way, everyone gets a turn. Mages included."
A murmur of approval spread among the gathered nobles. Adrian exhaled slowly, nodding. "Fine by me."
Dorian grinned, settling into his stance, mana thrumming through his wooden sword. "Let's not hold back then."
Lysander smirked, raising a hand as arcane energy coiled around his fingertips. "I'll be waiting."
The air crackled with energy as the duel began, Adrian's blade meeting Dorian's with barely a clang, their weapons absorbing and redirecting the infused magic. The first exchange was swift—Dorian lunged, his blade trailing sparks of lightning as he aimed for Adrian's side. Adrian twisted, deflecting the strike with a calculated parry, the force sending a brief shockwave through the air.
Dorian wasted no time, pivoting on his back foot and launching a quick arc of mana-infused slashes. Adrian met each strike with precise counters, his own sword humming as it channeled his controlled energy. The gathered nobles watched in rapt attention as the duel shifted in intensity, neither combatant gaining a clear advantage.
Then, Dorian changed tactics. Stepping back, he flicked his fingers, sending a bolt of crackling energy toward Adrian's feet. Adrian anticipated it, leaping into the air and twisting mid-motion. With a flick of his wrist, he redirected his mana through his blade, sending a controlled pulse of force toward Dorian.
Dorian barely managed to shield himself, but the impact forced him back a step. "Not bad," he admitted, his grin widening. Instead of retreating, he surged forward, his blade now wreathed in controlled lightning. He feinted left, then right, forcing Adrian to read his movements carefully.
Adrian narrowed his eyes, his instincts sharp. The next time Dorian lunged, Adrian didn't parry—instead, he sidestepped at the last moment, shifting his stance and bringing his blade down in a controlled but decisive strike to Dorian's exposed side.
The impact crackled as Adrian's mana surged, stopping just short of delivering a real blow. Dorian staggered, blinking in surprise as his own energy faltered.
A brief pause. Then, Dorian exhaled a laugh. "You got me."
Adrian pulled back, offering a nod. "Good fight."
Applause and murmurs rippled through the onlookers, some analyzing the duel, others eager to step forward next. Lysander smirked, rolling his shoulders as he stepped onto the field. "Alright, Tharan. Let's see how you handle someone without a blade."
The next challenge had begun, and break time at the academy remained anything but restful.
---
Meanwhile, in the principal's office, Kaelan sat behind the grand mahogany desk, staring at the breakfast set before him. A cup of strong coffee, thick Greek yogurt drizzled with honey, and a freshly baked loaf of bread rested neatly on an ornate silver tray. The meal was befitting of the academy's highest authority, and yet, he hesitated.
He wasn't the principal. Not truly. And yet, soon enough, he would have to pretend to be.
His fingers tapped idly against the desk as doubts swirled in his mind. How long could he keep up the act? How much did the staff and students truly know about the principal? From what he had gathered, the man had been reclusive, rarely showing his face even to the faculty. That worked in Kaelan's favor—few people would be able to tell the difference. But that only raised another question.
Why had the principal been so distant?
Kaelan took a slow sip of the coffee, letting the bitterness ground him. There was more to this mystery than just his own deception. The principal's disappearance, the academy's secrets, the surge of mana that had shaken the halls—everything was connected. He just had to figure out how.
And soon, he'd be in the perfect position to do so.