Winds of Change

The sun was climbing high by the time Cynus arrived at the training grounds. He'd started waking up earlier and earlier, eager to outpace Kael's sharp tongue. Yet, no matter how early he arrived, Kael was always there first.

Today was no different. Kael stood in the center of the clearing, a small wooden chest at his feet. His cloak billowed faintly in the breeze, though the air itself was still.

"You're late," Kael said, smirking.

Cynus rolled his eyes. "You say that every day."

Kael's smirk widened. "Because you are. Get over here."

Cynus jogged to him, his body still sore from the trials of the previous day. "What's in the box?" he asked, gesturing to the chest.

Kael knelt and opened it, revealing an assortment of strange objects—a curved dagger, a blackened glass orb, and a delicate crystal vial filled with swirling green mist.

"Today," Kael said, picking up the vial, "we work on your instincts. Magic isn't just about control; it's about knowing when to act and when to hold back. These"—he gestured at the objects—"are going to test that."

Before Cynus could respond, a voice rang out from the treeline.

"You don't seriously expect him to handle those, do you?"

Cynus turned, startled. A girl emerged from the shadows, her movements as light as the wind. She was about his age, with short, choppy hair the color of spun silver and piercing gray eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. She wore a patched leather jacket and carried a small satchel slung over one shoulder.

Kael straightened, his expression neutral. "You're late."

The girl smirked. "You say that every day."

Cynus blinked. "Who are you?"

The girl crossed her arms, tilting her head at him. "Name's Lyric. Kael's told me about you. Candle-boy, right?"

Cynus bristled. "It's Cynus. And who are you supposed to be?"

"Your new best friend," Lyric said, flashing a grin. "Kael thought you might need a little help, so here I am."

Kael cleared his throat, cutting through the banter. "Lyric's been training with me for a while. She's got a talent for air magic, and she's not here to babysit you. You'll be sparring today."

"Sparring?" Cynus repeated, his stomach twisting.

Lyric's grin widened. "Don't worry, Candle-boy. I'll go easy on you."

Kael led them to a wide-open space in the training grounds, where the grass was worn down to dirt from years of combat practice. He stepped back, crossing his arms.

"The rules are simple," Kael said. "No lethal force. Use your magic, your instincts, and whatever else you've got. First to land three hits wins."

Lyric stretched her arms, looking completely at ease. Cynus, on the other hand, felt the familiar flicker of doubt creeping in.

"Ready?" Kael asked.

Before Cynus could answer, Lyric shot forward, moving faster than he thought possible. A gust of wind swirled around her, propelling her toward him. Cynus barely had time to raise his arms before she struck, a blade of compressed air slicing toward him.

He summoned a flame instinctively, creating a shield of heat. The air magic fizzled against it, but the force of the blow sent him stumbling backward.

"Too slow!" Lyric called, already preparing her next attack.

Cynus gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus. He raised his hand, summoning a small fireball, and hurled it toward her. Lyric dodged with ease, the wind carrying her to the side.

"You're predictable," she said, her voice almost mocking.

Frustration boiled inside Cynus. He tried again, launching a series of smaller flames in quick succession. Lyric darted between them effortlessly, her movements fluid and precise.

"Stop wasting your energy!" Kael barked from the sidelines. "Think before you act!"

Cynus clenched his fists, his flames flickering uncertainly. Lyric took advantage of his hesitation, closing the distance between them in an instant. With a burst of wind, she knocked him off his feet, landing a sharp jab to his shoulder.

"That's one," she said, smirking down at him.

Cynus scrambled to his feet, his chest heaving. His frustration bubbled over, feeding the fire in his hands. But this time, he didn't attack blindly. He watched her, waiting for her to move.

Lyric darted forward again, her air magic swirling around her like a cyclone. Cynus stepped to the side at the last second, twisting his body to avoid her strike. As she passed, he turned and launched a flame directly at her back.

The fire struck, dissipating harmlessly against the protective wind surrounding her, but it was enough to make her stumble.

"That's one for me," Cynus said, a small grin tugging at his lips.

Lyric turned, her eyes narrowing. "Not bad, Candle-boy. But I'm just getting started."

The Wind and the Flame

The spar continued, each exchange growing more intense. Cynus began to adapt, using the fire's unpredictable nature to keep Lyric on edge. She countered with bursts of wind, her speed and precision forcing him to stay alert.

By the end, both were drenched in sweat, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Cynus managed to land another hit, but Lyric ultimately emerged victorious, her final strike knocking him flat on his back.

Kael clapped once, stepping forward. "Good enough for a first attempt. Lyric, you're dismissed. Cynus, stay."

Lyric offered Cynus a hand, helping him to his feet. "Not bad, Candle-boy. You've got potential—rough as it is."

Cynus shot her a look but didn't argue. "Thanks, I guess."

She smirked, then turned and disappeared into the trees, the wind carrying her away as if she were a part of it.

Kael stood silently for a moment, watching Cynus catch his breath.

"You're improving," Kael said finally. "But you're still letting your emotions control you. Fire is already volatile. If you let your frustration feed it, it'll burn out of control."

Cynus nodded, his fists clenching. "I'm trying."

"Try harder," Kael said bluntly. He gestured to the wooden chest. "Tomorrow, we'll continue with the instincts test. And don't expect Lyric to hold back next time."

Cynus sighed but nodded, determination simmering beneath his exhaustion.

As the sun began to set, Cynus stared at his hands, the faint warmth of his flame still lingering. He wasn't sure how he felt about Lyric or her smug confidence, but one thing was certain—she'd pushed him in ways Kael hadn't yet.

And for that, he was strangely grateful.