Chapter Thirteen: The Trial of Shadows
The air inside David's fortress was thick with the smell of metal and stone. Kael's breath echoed in the narrow hallways as he followed the Swordmaster down into the heart of the stronghold. A chamber deep beneath the earth—hidden, isolated—was where David had summoned him.
The floor of the room was a smooth expanse of black stone, barely lit by flickering torches along the walls. A single platform at the center of the chamber stood like a stage where legends were made—or broken.
David stood at the far side, his posture relaxed but focused, eyes keen. The faint glow of his sword—the blade hanging casually at his side—was the only light in the room.
"This is where you will learn what Andrew never taught you." His voice was low, cold. "The difference between a sword and a warrior."
Kael felt the weight of his words settle over him. Andrew had prepared him for the beginning, but Kael knew, deep down, that he hadn't seen everything. Not by a long shot.
David's gaze sharpened as he drew his sword, its edge catching the dim light. "You will fight me. No tricks. No distractions. Just steel against steel."
Kael unsheathed Veilrend, his father's blade, and took a deep breath. He could feel the pulse of the sword in his grip, the weight of his legacy on his shoulders.
David's eyes flicked to the blade for a split second, then locked onto Kael. His movements were subtle—nothing extravagant—but in that stillness, Kael could sense the storm waiting to break free.
"Ready?" David asked, and in that single word, the room seemed to grow colder.
Kael tightened his grip on Veilrend, then lunged forward.
⸻
The first clash came like a thunderstrike.
Kael's blade met David's with a ringing sound that sent shockwaves through his arms. But the shock wasn't from the force of impact—it was from the way David's sword danced around his guard, like water flowing through cracks in the stone.
David's parry sent Kael stumbling back, and in that brief moment of hesitation, David's blade was at his throat.
"You are slow." David's voice was like ice, cutting through the air. "Again."
⸻
The next few moments passed in a blur.
Kael attacked with everything he had—slashing, thrusting, striking. But each time, David was there, his sword moving with terrifying precision. No matter how fast Kael moved, David was faster. No matter how powerful his strikes, David's defense was unbreakable.
Kael's breath began to quicken, sweat gathering at his brow. He gritted his teeth and pushed harder, forcing his body to move faster, to think quicker.
But David was always a step ahead.
A feint to the left, a parry, and before Kael knew it, he was on the ground, his sword knocked from his hand.
"Again." David's voice was cold, unyielding. "This is what you've learned from Andrew. The beginning. You know how to fight, Kael, but you've never truly fought to win."
⸻
The battle continued for hours. Kael's body grew heavy, his movements sluggish from exhaustion. Each time he thought he'd found an opening, David would close it instantly, turning the tide with a flick of his wrist.
Kael's frustration began to mount, his attacks growing wilder, more desperate. Every time he was knocked down, every time David's sword danced around his defenses, his mind screamed for a way to break through.
But there was no breakthrough. Just David's calm, deliberate pace, guiding the fight as if Kael was a mere leaf in the wind.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Kael dropped to his knees, his chest heaving with effort. He couldn't keep up. He was too slow. Too predictable.
David stood over him, his expression unreadable. "You are not yet worthy of victory."
Kael's heart pounded, his head buzzing with exhaustion. His pride stung, raw and burning. "I… I can't—"
David sheathed his sword and stepped closer, his eyes softening just a fraction. "You've only learned the beginning of what Andrew can teach you."
Kael blinked, confusion washing over him. "What do you mean?"
David crouched down, his voice quieter now. "Andrew taught you the foundations—the basics of a warrior's strength. He gave you the knowledge to survive." He paused. "But there's more to it than that. A warrior is not defined by what they know, but by how they fight. The mind, the spirit, the heart—these things must come before the sword."
Kael swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. "Then teach me. I'll do whatever it takes."
David's gaze hardened again, and he stood tall. "You will. For the next year, you will train here with me. You will learn everything Andrew never showed you, and you will push yourself beyond the limits you've known."
Kael stood shakily, his body screaming for rest, but he knew there was no turning back. "I'll do it. I won't quit."
David's expression softened for a moment, a fleeting flicker of something almost like approval. "You may be weaker than me now, Kael. But in a year's time, you'll be as strong as I was—perhaps even stronger."
Kael nodded, determination hardening in his chest. He wasn't just training to carry on his father's legacy anymore. He was training to become something more—to stand as his own warrior.
David turned, heading toward the door. "Rest for tonight. Tomorrow, we begin. You will face your weaknesses, and in doing so, you will forge your own strength."
Kael followed David's retreating figure, ready to face whatever came next.