Paths to Power

The sun rose sharp over Eldoria's outskirts, golden rays spilling across the dew-covered training field.

Iris stood with arms crossed, boots planted firmly on the grass as she watched Leon tighten the straps on his practice armour.

Today, there would be no magic.

No sword imbued with crimson energy. No mystical visions or divine blessings. Just muscle, instinct, and sweat.

Just reality.

"You ready, hero?" she asked.

Leon nodded. "As I'll ever be."

"Then draw your blade."

The others watched from the shade of a nearby tree—Sylva, Gaius, Selene, even Velis and Lyra. But Iris only saw Leon. And what she needed to see wasn't in his stance. It was behind his eyes.

He drew his blade.

She rushed him without warning.

Steel clashed with wood as Iris brought her staff down with force. Leon blocked, stumbled back, caught himself.

Too slow.

"Again."

He came forward this time, slicing in a clean arc. She parried it with ease, spinning around him and tapping the back of his neck with the tip of her staff.

"Dead."

Leon grit his teeth. "You're faster than I expected."

"You expected wrong," Iris said. "The battlefield won't wait for you to learn."

They went again. And again. For over an hour, Leon attacked and defended, sweat pouring from his brow, breath becoming ragged. And every time he made a mistake, Iris punished it.

Not cruelly.

Honestly.

"You hesitate too much," she said between strikes. "You look for patterns where chaos lives. War doesn't make sense. It just is."

He grunted, trying a feint. She didn't fall for it. Her staff cracked against his ribs and sent him staggering.

Iris stepped back, panting. "You want to be the hero? Then stop waiting for permission. Start fighting like your life depends on it."

Leon crouched, catching his breath. He stared at the ground, shoulders shaking.

Then he stood.

He didn't say anything.

This time, when he charged, he moved like a blade drawn too quickly to think.

Their weapons met again, and Iris felt the change. More edge. Less hesitation. Less fear.

She smiled.

After they finished, both collapsed onto the grass, breathless and sore.

Leon stared at the sky. "Do you think I'll ever be ready?"

Iris was quiet for a moment.

Then she said, "I don't know."

Leon turned to look at her.

"But I know you're trying," she continued. "And sometimes, that's the only thing keeping the future from bleeding out too early."

She looked up at the clouds.

"We're all dancing on a knife's edge, Leon. Some of us just have sharper feet."

* * * * *

The fire crackled in the centre of their camp, throwing sparks into the evening air. Night had fallen over Eldoria's countryside, the stars poking holes in a velvet-black sky.

They had trained hard. Harder than any of them cared to admit. Muscles ached. Blisters formed. The weight of unspoken thoughts lingered like smoke.

Yet no one moved to sleep.

Leon sat with his back to a tree, arms loosely draped over his knees. Iris leaned against a boulder, bandaging her wrist where Leon had finally scored a hit. Gaius and Selene shared a skin of wine, passing it in silence. Velis curled up beside Lyra, half-asleep but listening.

It was Iris who broke the quiet.

"You know," she said, voice light, "when I joined this party, I thought we'd be hunting beasts and babysitting nobles. Not training heroes and defying kingdoms."

Gaius chuckled. "You say that like you're disappointed."

She grinned. "I'm not."

Selene sighed, her gaze on the flames. "I just miss simple days. Earning gold. Finding shelter. Not worrying about who's watching us."

"I don't think we'll ever be simple again," Lyra said quietly.

Leon looked at her. "Do you miss it? That kind of life?"

Lyra nodded. "Sometimes. But... I think we were meant to be part of something bigger. Whether we like it or not."

"I don't know if I was meant for anything," Leon admitted. "Some days I feel like I'm just pretending. Like I'm not really this... hero they need."

Velis stirred slightly. "Pretending is still doing," she murmured sleepily. "You pretend long enough, you become it."

That earned a few thoughtful glances.

Sylva, who had been silent all evening, finally spoke.

"Cassandra never let us talk like this," she said. "There wasn't room for dreams. Only orders."

Her words chilled the group for a moment.

"But now?" she continued, eyes fixed on the fire. "I think maybe... we're allowed to hope. Even if we don't know how."

Iris nodded, her smile faint. "Then let's make a pact. No matter how dark it gets... we carry each other through."

Selene raised her cup. "To foolish hope."

They all echoed her, clinking metal cups and mismatched mugs.

A small warmth bloomed in Leon's chest. For a moment, they weren't weapons. Or pawns. Or heroes. Just people.

Just family.

Velis sat up then, blinking.

"I almost forgot something," she said. "The Demon Lord—"

Lyra stiffened.

Velis paused. Then smiled. "Taught me how to make marshmallows burn evenly."

Laughter followed, uneasy but welcome.

But Lyra caught the flicker in Velis's silver eyes.

It had been close.

Too close.

Secrets were fragile things.

And tonight, one had nearly slipped.

* * * * *

The Adventurer's Guild bustled with life. Walls lined with quest boards. Tables packed with warriors, mages, and mercenaries of every creed. The scent of sweat, steel, and spilled ale saturated the air.

Leon stood near the counter, his newly issued bronze-rimmed badge glinting faintly in the morning light. Behind him, the Crimson Vow flanked him like shadows.

"You sure you're ready for this?" Darius asked, arms crossed.

Leon nodded. "I need to be."

Iris handed over the parchment. "We picked something simple. Exploration. Old ruin outside the southern woods. Should be a half-day trip."

The air was thick with the scent of moss and time.

Leon stood at the edge of the old ruin, his boots planted in the overgrown grass, staring at the crumbling stone entrance that loomed like the yawning mouth of some ancient creature. Ivy had overtaken most of the structure, and vines choked what remained of the once-grand pillars.

"This place is supposed to be inactive," Darius muttered from behind. "No recorded magical activity. Just a scouting job."

"It doesn't feel inactive," Leon said, fingers brushing the hilt of his katana.

The Crimson Vow had taken this as their first quest together with Leon under their banner—something simple, according to the guild. Survey a long-abandoned ruin on the outskirts of Eldoria's controlled territory. Confirm its condition. Report back.

But from the moment they stepped near it, Leon felt something humming beneath his skin.

A pressure.

Like the place was... watching them.

He glanced at the others. Sylva was calm but alert, her hand near her dagger. Gaius and Selene were scouting the perimeter. Iris adjusted her gloves, eyes narrowed. Lyra had said little since they arrived, her focus fixed ahead—and Velis? She stood near Lyra, head tilted slightly, silver eyes gleaming like she knew something they didn't.

Leon stepped forward, letting his instincts guide him.

The group moved inside the ruins, torches in hand.

The walls were covered in faded murals—heroes of old, blades glowing, monsters beneath their feet. But many of the faces had been scratched out violently, almost deliberately.

"This looks like a summoning site," Iris whispered, running her hand along the wall. "A really old one."

"Too old," Lyra added, voice low. "These ruins weren't just forgotten—they were hidden."

As they moved deeper, the corridor opened into a chamber with a raised altar. Dust swirled in the torchlight, and broken chains lay scattered across the floor.

And at the centre of the altar…

A mirror.

Shattered.

Leon felt his breath catch.

He walked up slowly, drawn by something he couldn't name. His reflection warped in the broken glass, fractured and scattered. And yet—he could see something behind it. A glow. Crimson.

Like his blade.

Like his aura in moments of rage.

He reached out.

"Leon, don't—!" Lyra stepped forward, but it was too late.

The moment his fingers touched the edge of the mirror, the entire room shuddered.

Magic burst through the chamber like a pulse, ancient runes igniting across the walls and floor. The ruins came alive with power that hadn't stirred in centuries.

Everyone braced for battle—but nothing attacked.

Instead, the runes pulsed once… twice…

Then settled.

The mirror's shards hovered into the air and realigned, forming a window of shifting energy.

Leon stared into it.

A battlefield. A tower. A shadowed figure wearing a cloak of flame and thorns.

He saw himself.

Older.

Stronger.

Alone.

Then it shattered again—falling harmlessly to the ground.

Silence returned.

Everyone stared at him.

"What the hell was that?" Darius said, voice tense.

Leon couldn't answer.

But he knew—this ruin wasn't just a ruin.

It was meant for him.

It had waited.

Watched.

And now… it had shown him something he couldn't ignore.