Things Lydel Hates

Honestly, Lydel hated a lot of things.

He hated how every girl in the outskirts always had their eyes on his best friend. Yeah, he got it—Kyren was tall, at least 6'2", and had the kind of sharp, rugged looks that turned heads. But Lydel didn't think he was ugly either. He stood at a respectable 5'9", which was impressive for someone born and raised in the outskirts. His shaggy light brown—almost blond—hair framed his face, making his emerald-green eyes pop. He had sharp features, a lean but strong build. Decent, right? But compared to Kyren? Forget it.

Kyren had high cheekbones, a well-defined jawline, and those deep brown eyes that now carried a strange glint of gold. It was infuriating. Lydel tried not to let it get to him. He'd find love one day. And it wasn't like Kyren even noticed the attention.

Lydel sighed, letting that annoyance go and moving on to the next thing he hated—whenever Kyren said the word training.

The first time had been right after they met. They were thirteen, working a job sweeping the shops that lined the outskirts—right across from the red-light district, the only place city folk ever showed their faces around here. It was easy work, which meant it paid almost nothing.

After their shift, they walked home together, their houses close enough that they naturally fell into step. They were nearly there when Lydel's stomach let out a loud, embarrassing growl.

Kyren turned to him, amused. "Hungry?"

Lydel shot him a glare. "What do you think, dumbass?"

Kyren grinned, that wicked, mischievous smile that usually meant trouble. "Then it's time for some special training."

Lydel frowned. "What the hell does that mean?"

Kyren didn't answer. Instead, he just said, "Follow my lead."

The last shop before their houses was a convenience store set up in the patched ruins of an old gas station—the same place Kyren robbed every day.

Before Lydel could process what was happening, Kyren took off at full speed. Lydel hesitated for only a second before following. He could've easily outrun Kyren—having a power meant holding back in situations like this—but he kept just behind him, watching closely as Kyren weaved through the store, snatching up random snacks without slowing down.

Lydel spotted a hot, steaming meat bun and grabbed it as he sprinted out after Kyren.

The shopkeeper was fast, closing in quickly. "Hurry!" Lydel yelled, surging ahead without thinking. But when he glanced back, he saw Kyren trip, falling hard. The shopkeeper raised a broom, ready to strike.

Lydel's body moved before he could think.

Lydel sprinted forward slamming into the shopkeeper barely staggering him, his attention switched to Lydel now bringing the broom down toward him.

His ability kicked in.

His power only worked when he made a decision—three seconds into the future flashed through his mind in an instant, playing like a fast-forwarded recording.

In his vision, he dove left—only to get nailed in the back by the broom's heavy swing.

Not an option.

Adjusting mid-motion, Lydel planted his left foot hard and rolled forward instead, popping up just below the shopkeeper's belt line. He threw a punch—his vision told him it would land, so no adjustments were needed.

It connected with a solid thud.

The shopkeeper crumpled. Lydel didn't wait—he grabbed Kyren's arm, yanked him up, and the two bolted for the orphanage.

When they finally stopped, breathless and laughing, Kyren turned to him. "Your power—what is it? How'd you do that?"

Lydel hesitated. "It's… hard to explain."

Kyren wasn't letting it go. His grin widened. "Well, guess what? Special training, part two! Show me your power."

That was the night Kyren forced him to train until exhaustion. Back then, Lydel's limit was only two seconds.

A sharp snap in front of his face jolted Lydel back to the present.

"Lydel? Hello? You in there?" Kyren's fingers snapped again.

Lydel blinked. "What? Oh. My bad."

Kyren smirked, then pulled something from behind his back—a short sword. Both edges were sharp, the hilt simple, wrapped in rough monster leather.

"This is all I could afford," Kyren said, handing it to him. "It'll have to do."

Lydel examined it, then glanced up warily. "Where exactly are we going, Kyren?"

Kyren's grin widened, that same wicked look from years ago returning.

"Our old training grounds."

Lydel groaned.

"Special training, part three." Kyren's eyes gleamed. "This time, you're teaching me."