Chapter 12: The Trial of Fire

For the next week, Kael dedicated himself to rigorous training. Each morning, he trained under Thalor's watchful eye, refining his connection to Gaianis. Each night, he retreated to the forest, practicing his sword techniques in preparation for his upcoming spar with his father.

By the end of the second day, he had uncovered his affinity—fire. Thalor had been stunned. No one should have been able to manifest their element that quickly, yet Kael had done it. After confirming his affinity, they began working on the basics of fire manipulation. His first real lesson in combat magic was a crude but effective technique—launching a burst of flame from his palm, an explosion that detonated immediately upon leaving his hand. It was powerful but volatile, requiring great control.

During one of their training sessions, Kael had asked Thalor about the strange shroom monster he encountered in the forest. Thalor had laughed, explaining that those creatures were among the weakest in the woods. Though they feasted on human flesh, they weren't predators—only scavengers that preyed upon the dead or dying. Even in large numbers, they were essentially useless in battle, no stronger than a five-year-old child despite their grotesque and muscular appearance. Still, Thalor had praised Kael for taking the initiative to fight it rather than running.

At last, the day of the spar arrived. Kael had spent the morning stretching and focusing his mind. He wasn't sure if his training had been enough. His father, Garrick, was a seasoned warrior, and his standards were high.

As they stood across from each other in the open training yard, Garrick laid out the terms of victory. "If you can make me move from this spot," he said, crossing his arms, "then you win. If you succeed, I will begin teaching you Inveris."

Kael smirked, gripping his wooden sword tightly. "Don't change your mind too quickly."

He lunged forward, feinting a downward strike. But this was only a distraction—his left hand was already forming a fiery explosion. Garrick's eyes flickered in recognition, but by the time he realized what was happening, it was too late. The burst of flame erupted between them, not harming Garrick but forcing him several meters back from the force of the blast.

Kael laughed, lowering his stance. "So, I win, right?"

Garrick dusted off his tunic, raising an eyebrow. "That wasn't part of the deal. But I have to admit—I didn't expect you to pull off something like that." He let out a breath before nodding. "Fine, you win. But this was a test of your swordsmanship, not tricks or surprises. I need to see how well you can truly fight."

Kael grinned. He had been waiting for this.

He lunged forward again, this time engaging Garrick in a flurry of rapid strikes. He blended standard sword techniques with unorthodox movements, incorporating powerful kicks to target Garrick's legs and torso, aiming to break his rhythm and force an opening. Each strike was calculated, his footwork swift and aggressive, seamlessly weaving between offense and defense.

Garrick blocked and dodged effortlessly, his expression unreadable. He parried Kael's attacks with minimal effort, shifting his stance just enough to neutralize the unexpected kicks with ease. Even when Kael switched things up, throwing a roundhouse kick toward his ribs, Garrick merely pivoted, grabbing Kael's ankle in midair and pushing him back with a simple yet forceful motion.

Kael stumbled but caught himself, breathing heavily. He refused to give up and pressed forward, attempting to layer his attacks with feints and unpredictable movements. He swung low, aiming for Garrick's knee, then twisted into a sharp elbow strike mid-motion, hoping to catch his father off guard. But Garrick read him like an open book, effortlessly stepping back, his stance unwavering.

"Not bad," Garrick remarked, his voice calm. "But you're still thinking too much. You hesitate when you switch between techniques."

Kael gritted his teeth. He knew his father was right. He was trying too hard to be clever, to outmaneuver Garrick with raw creativity, but Garrick's instincts and years of experience made such tactics nearly useless. The gap between them was painfully clear.

After several more exchanges, Kael was beginning to tire, but Garrick had yet to even break a sweat. He finally raised a hand, signaling for Kael to stop.

"That's enough."

Kael panted, his grip on his sword tightening. "But I haven't—"

"I've seen enough," Garrick interrupted. "Your style is… unique. You fight differently from any swordsman I've met. If you learn to integrate Gaianis properly, you'll be dangerous." He crossed his arms, nodding in approval. "We start Inveris training tomorrow."

Kael exhaled, feeling both triumphant and frustrated. He had won, but at the same time, he hadn't even come close to pushing Garrick to his limits. His father had barely exerted himself. Was the gap between them truly so vast?

As he walked back to his room, a new thought settled into his mind. Do I even need to go to the academy? Maybe I don't need formal training—maybe I can just learn what I need to survive and travel the world instead.

He lay down in bed, a small smile forming on his lips. Tomorrow, he would finally begin his training in Inveris.

And that was just the beginning.

End of Chapter 12