Nurturing Toughness

The soothing gurgle of the fish tank had filled Zerin's room for the past week. The tank was rectangular and meticulously maintained. Green aquatic plants swayed with the flow of the currents stirred by the filter hidden in the back. The bottom of the tank was covered with a soft bed of pebbles, a blend of gray, blue, and white.

A single betta fish swam through this peaceful habitat, a flash of deep red against the water. His fins were like silk ribbons trailing behind him as he glided gracefully through the water. Vibrant purple bled into the edges of his fins. Alone in the tank, he had no rival, no need to flare his fins in dominance.

Zerin shifted under his blanket. The soft creaking bed frame cut through the bubbling hum of the tank. His eyes flickered open, catching sight of the tank for a moment before drifting shut once again.

Knock knock.

The firm knock startled Zerin from his sleep.

"Zerin! Get your ass out here!"

It was Dex for sure. No matter what, he always swore—it was like it was common tongue for him.

Zerin groaned, pulling the blanket over his head to block out the sound. The knocking persisted.

"I'm awake," he croaked, his sleepy voice muffled under his blanket. He sat up slowly. As soon as his feet met the cold wooden floor, he felt an instant chill rise up his spine.

He glanced at the towering stack of books beside his bed—several titles like Nightmare Creatures: The Complete Bestiary, The Spell and its Heroes, and Divine Lineages for Beginners. Jerika had lent him some of her personal research, and the stack had only grown over the past few months, now becoming a monstrous collection that kept him up all night.

But it was the only thing that truly interested him. Training with Cael was nothing but hard work, but today was sparring day, and this beating was unavoidable.

He ran a hand through his messy hair and sighed; he could still feel the last bits of sleep clinging to him. His normal routine grounded him—his first task of the day: fixing his bed. Pulling the covers tight, tucking the edges neatly, etc. After fluffing the pillows, he quickly slid into his slippers to avoid the freezing floors, even though it was spring. Some genius decided to chill the entire building.

In the bathroom, he flicked the light on, momentarily blinding himself as he stumbled slightly. He reached out for his toothpaste and toothbrush and started scrubbing. March 10th marked today's date—four months of training, and today was going to be worse than all the other days combined. To most, being trained by a Master was a dream. For Zerin, it was something he endured, preferring the company of books and Jerika's notes over his endless drills.

He rinsed, splashed water on his face, and looked at his reflection. A tired young man stared back at him with messy black hair.

He sighed. "What a sorry sight…"

Maybe staying up to read wasn't such a good idea.

***

The dojo's polished wooden floors gleamed in the morning sunlight streaming through the large windows. Minimalistic in design, the space was now bare of equipment, with everything pushed to the sides to make room for today's sparring session. Zerin stood on the edge, watching.

In the center, Cael and Dex faced off. The sound of wooden swords clashing filled the room as their match began. Dex was fast, but Cael was faster—every swing Dex made was either blocked or dodged, as if Cael could anticipate his every move. The Master's counters seemed light, almost playful, yet every strike was with the precision of a veteran. His face wore its usual calm grin, while Dex's features twisted in frustration and fatigue.

With each exchange, Dex's breathing grew more ragged. Cael's strikes came faster, sharper, and Dex struggled to keep up. His parries grew weaker, his stance faltering. Cael's final strike came with crushing force, sending Dex's wooden sword flying from his hands. He stumbled back, his legs giving out beneath him.

Just before Dex could hit the floor, Cael's hand shot out, catching him by the arm and pulling him upright with an ease that bordered on effortless.

"You're not ready to fall just yet," Cael said, that same calm smile on his face as he handed Dex the sword he had been using.

In a blink of an eye, the Master disappeared from Dex's sight. Confusion flickered across Dex's face before Cael's voice came from behind him.

"Again," Cael said, his voice as steady as ever, holding a new wooden sword.

Dex turned, eyes wide, but his face filled with determination. "What was that? Are you holding back on me?" he asked, a grin tugging at his lips as he got into a ready stance.

"You are just a baby," Cael teased, twirling his sword lazily. "I don't want to hurt you, kid."

"I can take anything you throw at me." Dex's grin widened.

They clashed again. From the sidelines, Zerin watched, his legs crossed on the wooden floor. Dex was a great fighter, but he in fact could not take it. After just a few seconds, he was on the floor completely laid flat.

"Come on, you can win one," Cael encouraged, giving Dex's shoulder a light shake.

"I can't…" Dex panted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Cael sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. "I thought you were Mr. Tough Guy."

He turned to Zerin, his eyes glinting as if he had found a new thing to amuse himself with.

"Come on, Zerin. Let's see what you've got."

Zerin stood, his hands gripping the wooden sword tightly. His heart beat a little faster. He wasn't like Dex at all; he knew that much.

"Not standard practice for a one-handed sword, but…" Cael's smile widened, "…it'll do."

Zerin lunged forward quickly in an attempt to catch the Master off guard. He swung, and in one smooth motion, Cael sidestepped, his body a blur.

"Are you trying to snake me, kid?" A smirk rose on his face, more devilish than before, as if that massive scar on his face didn't make him more intimidating than he was in this moment.

Zerin pivoted, following up with another strike, but the Master blocked it effortlessly, his grin never faltering.

'This bastard's enjoying this,' Zerin thought sourly.

He unleashed a barrage of slashes and strikes, each one sloppier than the last. Cael dodged and blocked them all with ease, then leaped back, creating distance between them.

"My turn," Cael whispered.

A swirling mist emanated from the Master, making it appear as if he were steaming. Then suddenly, he vanished. Zerin barely had time to register where he had gone before he reappeared in front of him, closing the gap with incredible speed.

Zerin raised his sword with both hands just in time to block the attack effectively, but the impact sent a shockwave through his arms, numbing his hands.

Cael's eyebrows raised in surprise. "You actually managed to block that? Impressive, but can you do that again?" His grin widened.

That same mist surrounded him, and before Zerin could steady himself, Cael lunged forward again, the space between them closing in an instant. Zerin lifted his sword to block and braced himself for the impact, closing his eyes.

Nothing happened—no connection, nothing.

Zerin opened his eyes a few moments later, confused.

"Zerin! Behind you!" Dex shouted.

Spinning around, it was too late for him to react to the Master's next attack. A kick crashed into his ribcage. The impact was almost bone-crushing and sent him tumbling along the wooden floor.

It was so fast, but he found himself on the floor, laid out on his back, gasping desperately for air.

Cael approached calmly, watching Zerin struggle with a slightly smug face as Zerin looked at him, struggling to catch his breath.

"Deep breaths… You will be fine… Deep breaths…"

But every inhalation felt like a battle. This was a standard for Cael's training; he would push you to the brink, beat you down until you couldn't get up again, and then lecture you. To Dex, it might be effective, but for Zerin, it felt like an unapproachable brick wall that he could never overcome.

"You failed because you expected me to do the same thing; that is weakness," Cael spoke firmly, looking down at Zerin.

Zerin continued to struggle to breathe, but he heard every word said.

"Get up… You will be facing Dex next," Cael commanded.

Dex rushed to Zerin's side, extending a hand to help him up.

"Holy shit, man! Are you okay?" he asked with concern as he pulled Zerin upright.

Zerin exhaled, still struggling with his breathing. "I'm fine."

"I can't believe you blocked that! How did you do it?"

"Lucky guess…" Zerin placed a hand on his side, feeling his ribcage for any fractures; luckily, there weren't any.

Cael clapped his hands.

"Three rounds. No Aspect abilities. Go."

"Wait, what?" Dex's face twisted with disbelief.

"No Aspect abilities. What don't you understand?" Cael repeated.

"Unless you are willing to donate some of your blood to Zerin and become a test dummy for him."

Dex groaned. "Fine…"

"If I see you use it even once, you lose," Cael assured.

"I am not some damn cheater!" Dex took a measured stance as he readied himself.

Cael chuckled, clearly enjoying Dex getting riled up.

Zerin squared his shoulders and readied his sword.