The early morning sun rose over Talisaar, casting long shadows across the training grounds as Kaelen walked briskly toward the sparring arena. The last few days had been a blur of intense training. Under Elara's strict supervision, he had made progress, but it was clear that his journey had only just begun.
Kaelen was still sore from his training yesterday, but the ache in his muscles was strangely satisfying. It was a reminder that he was pushing himself to the limit—and beyond. He had spent hours learning basic sword techniques, stances, and footwork. But today, Elara had promised that he would face another challenge—one that would push him even harder.
As Kaelen approached the arena, he saw other trainees already gathered, stretching or preparing for their daily drills. Among them was a boy with fiery red hair and a look of unshakable confidence—Loren, a talented swordsman who had caught Kaelen's attention during their first few days at the academy.
Loren was known for his quick reflexes and his impressive dueling style. He had already defeated a few of the older students in one-on-one matches, earning respect from most of the academy. But there was something about Loren's cocky attitude that made Kaelen feel uneasy. Still, he couldn't deny that Loren's skill was undeniable.
"Kaelen!" Loren called out, noticing him walking up to the arena. "Ready to lose to me again today?"
Kaelen raised an eyebrow but didn't rise to the challenge. "We'll see, Loren."
Elara appeared beside them, carrying two wooden swords. Her eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief. "Today, you both will spar together. Kaelen, Loren—show me what you've learned so far."
Kaelen nodded, feeling his heart race. He hadn't fought Loren before, but he had watched the boy's movements from afar. Loren was fast—much faster than most. If Kaelen wanted to stand a chance, he would need to use everything Elara had taught him.
Loren smirked, twirling his sword in his hand as he took his stance. "Hope you're not too tired from your last few days of training, Kaelen. Wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of the whole academy."
Kaelen didn't respond. He wasn't here to impress anyone—he was here to learn, to grow stronger.
With a sharp, quick motion, Loren lunged forward. His sword was a blur, aimed directly at Kaelen's chest. Kaelen barely managed to deflect the strike, feeling the force of Loren's speed reverberate through his arms. He staggered back, but Loren was already on him again, relentless.
Focus, Kaelen reminded himself, raising his sword just in time to block another strike. He could see Loren's movements—every step, every shift in weight—but it was so fast that it was almost impossible to keep up.
Kaelen's mind raced, trying to find an opening, but Loren was closing in on him, his attacks unyielding. Kaelen's legs were starting to feel like lead. He could hear the distant sounds of other trainees shouting and cheering them on, but it felt as though the world had narrowed down to just him and Loren.
Suddenly, he remembered Elara's advice: Don't fear the strike. Trust your instincts.
With a sudden burst of energy, Kaelen sidestepped Loren's strike and countered with a swing of his own. It wasn't perfect—it was rough and unpolished—but Loren had to step back to avoid it, giving Kaelen a brief moment of respite.
Loren glared at him, clearly surprised by the sudden shift in the battle. "Not bad. But you'll need a lot more than that if you want to beat me."
Kaelen's chest was heaving, but he wasn't about to back down. "I'm not done yet."
The match continued, with Kaelen slowly starting to find his rhythm. He couldn't match Loren's speed, but he was getting better at anticipating Loren's attacks, blocking and parrying with more confidence. By the time the match ended, both of them were panting, sweat pouring down their faces.
"Enough," Elara called out, stepping forward and raising her hand to stop the match. "Good. You've both improved. But remember—training is about more than just technique. It's about endurance, mindset, and adaptability."
Kaelen wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced at Loren, who gave him a begrudging nod of approval.
"Not bad, Kaelen," Loren admitted, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by a rare moment of respect. "You've got some fight in you. Maybe you're not as useless as I thought."
Kaelen offered a small smile, though he was still catching his breath. "Thanks," he said, though it didn't feel like quite the victory he had hoped for.
Elara turned to them both. "You two make a decent team—now let's see how you work together."
Before Kaelen could ask what she meant, Elara raised her hand, signaling the next part of the training. Suddenly, from the surrounding forest near the academy's grounds, a group of shadowed figures emerged, moving toward the arena with deliberate steps. They were Talisaar's trial monsters, creatures conjured from magic and used for practice by the students.
These creatures were known for their unpredictability and their viciousness. Kaelen's heart skipped a beat when he recognized what they were—Gravehounds, wolf-like creatures with shadowy fur and glowing red eyes. They were often used to test students' endurance and ability to fight under pressure.
Elara turned to them both, her expression serious. "Work together. These creatures will test your reflexes, teamwork, and decision-making. If you can't work together, you'll fail."
The Gravehounds growled as they neared, and Kaelen gripped his sword tightly. This would be unlike anything he had ever faced. But as he exchanged a glance with Loren, he realized that, for the first time, he wasn't alone. Loren's cocky attitude had been replaced by determination, and Kaelen could see the same fire in his eyes.
They were ready.