The morning sun painted the rooftops of Darkenshire in a soft glow. Birds chirped somewhere in the distance, and the air smelled fresh with dew on the grass.
Kael sat on a low wooden bench surrounded by flowers of different colors, arms crossed over his knees, staring at nothing in particular. His thoughts were still a mess, like tangled threads after the nightmare from two nights ago. Something inside him felt different—he could sense it, but didn't know what it meant. All he knew was he couldn't stay the same.
sigh
The sound of footsteps pulled him out of his thoughts
"There you are," Erick called, stepping out. "You're up quite early."
Kael gave him a small, tired smile. "Just thinking."
After living with Erick and his family for almost a week, he had finally grown accustomed to them.
They were nice people, and even though he still doesn't know what they had in mind while helping him, he at least knows it isn't malicious.
Erick walked over and tossed him a shiny red apple. "Thinking won't help you if you get taken out in the first round of the entrance exams."
Kael blinked. "Entrance exam?"
"You didn't think they'd just let you walk into the academy, did you?" Erick raised an eyebrow. "Even with a recommendation, you've got to show them you're worth it. For most nobles, the exam is just showing off. But for someone like you… it's everything."
Kael looked down at the apple in his hand, then back up at Erick. "What kind of exam?"
"Nobody knows for sure. It changes every year. Sometimes it's a fight, sometimes it's about surviving something. But one thing's always the same: if you can't handle yourself, you won't make it."
Kael gave a short, humorless laugh. "Well, then I'm in trouble."
"What do you mean you're in trouble? An Adept sigil like you who could handle a Ravager on his own should be able to breeze through this test," Erick stated.
"Well, about that.... Actually, the only reason I was able to win that fight was because of a skill of mine, and honestly, I don't think I'll be able to use it again," Kael said while scratching the back of his head. "I'm actually really bad at combat."
'So it was a skill, huh?'
Erick's brow furrowed. "How bad are we talking?"
Kael hesitated. "I… I can swing a sword, I guess. But I've never been in a real fight.... well, except you know. Just practiced basic moves with my father."
"Then we've got work to do."Erick stood up straighter, crossing his arms. "You've got less than a month, Kael. A couple of weeks to train, get better, and survive whatever's coming."
Kael swallowed, a nervous flutter in his chest. "Think that's enough time?"
"Nope."
"..."
"But don't worry—you've got me."
A quiet moment passed between them before Erick clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Eat up. You start today."
…
They walked along a path on the east side of the estate, where neat hedges and wooden fences opened up to a large, empty area—Erick's land. Behind the estate was a private training ground, with straw dummies standing like silent soldiers, racks holding wooden weapons, and a small group of armored men practicing under the sharp eyes of a tough-looking drillmaster.
They all looked about his age.
"This is yours?"
"Used to be mine," Erick said, waving a hand at one of the guards who bowed respectfully. "Still is, in a way. I built it to train my personal soldiers at first, but later gave it out for these young ones after building a better one for my soldiers."
As they stepped onto the dusty training field, the thwack of wooden swords and the sharp shouts of commands filled the air. Kael felt out of place among the men who moved with such practiced strength.
Erick stopped by the weapon rack and turned to Kael. "So, what's your weapon of choice?"
Kael rubbed the back of his neck. "Still figuring that out."
"But I'm okay with a sword," Kael added quickly. "That's what I've practiced the most."
"Good. We'll start there."
Erick nodded to one of the soldiers—a young guy with a strong build and a well-kept wooden sword.
"Jaren!" Erick called out. "Spar with the boy. Easy, controlled. I want to see what he can do."
Jaren smirked a little, stepping forward. "Yes, Captain."
Kael picked up a wooden sword from the rack, testing its weight in his hand. It felt different from the old one his father usually made, but familiar enough.
They moved to a patch of flat dirt as the other guards gave them space.
"Ready?" Jaren asked, holding his sword ready.
Kael nodded. "Ready."
The practice fight began.
Kael moved in fast, swinging with all his strength. Jaren blocked it easily, stepping to the side and tapping Kael on the back with the flat of his blade.
"Too wide open!" Erick called from the side.
Kael gritted his teeth and turned back, shifting his feet. He tried again—slower this time, more careful. But Jaren moved like water, dodging and hitting back with smooth moves. In just a few seconds, Kael was flat on his back, his sword skittering away.
He stared up at the sky, breathing hard.
"That," Erick said, walking over, "was pretty bad."
Kael groaned. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"You've got something there," Erick went on, offering a hand to help him up. "But your stance is all over the place, your balance is off, and you're swinging like you're chopping wood."
Kael took his hand, standing up a bit wobbly. "Guess we've got a lot to do."
"Indeed we do," Erick nodded. "And we're starting with the basics—how to stand, how to move your feet, how to make it flow. Just a heads up, but these are going to be the worst three weeks of your life, so be prepared."
"Yeah yeah, whatever. I'm ready."
He had no choice.
This was just the start. He wasn't just training for a test.
He was learning how to survive.