The day began like any other: a pale sun rising over Kevarith, the smell of wet clay, the distant clatter of hooves in the streets.
But for Kael, there was only one thing in their head:
How far could they push their magic without breaking themselves?
---
Testing the limits
At the riverbank, Kael crouched with a stone in their hands and whispered the glow spell.
The pebble lit softly, drinking from them.
That pull inside—the hollow tug that came from somewhere deeper than breath—was becoming familiar.
---
They held it longer this time. Longer than ever.
The glow brightened, bright as sunlight on water, until their head throbbed and black spots prickled at the edges of their vision.
"Not yet," Kael whispered.
They forced it to stay.
---
The light burst, like a spark snuffed out, and Kael collapsed back on the stones, dizzy and panting.
Their whole body hummed.
---
It took a long time before they could sit up.
But even as they wiped sweat from their forehead, something inside felt… different.
The next time they whispered the spell, the glow came quicker and lasted just a little bit longer before that same hollowness came back.
---
That's when Kael realized something important:
Every time they emptied that well inside them—mana—it came back a little wider.
Like stretching a muscle.
---
But there was danger, too.
That dizzy, black-edged feeling from pushing too far made them certain: if they drained it completely, it could kill them.
---
A new routine
From that morning on, Kael began balancing two kinds of training:
Physical: carrying heavier water jugs, sprinting loops, balancing on fence rails.
Magical: safe experiments with glow spells, timing how long they could hold the light without reaching the edge.
No one in the family knew.
---
After a week, even Alren noticed the difference.
"You've been climbing everything lately," he said as Kael hopped off a fence.
"I'm practicing," Kael said simply.
"For what?"
"For later."
---
What makes an adventurer
Kael started watching adventurers more closely.
Not just their weapons, but how they moved.
How their steps were quick but steady.
How their eyes swept across rooftops and alleys like they saw things other people didn't.
How their hands, even at rest, always hovered close to a weapon or a tool.
---
By piecing these things together—and pulling on their Earth memories—Kael guessed what mattered most:
Speed. Balance. Strength. Awareness.
It wasn't about looking strong. It was about lasting.
---
At the Annex one afternoon, Kael lingered behind a cart to listen to two Branches talking.
"Old Sef has started a yard behind his house again," one said. "Said he's tired of seeing kids turn Sprout without knowing how to swing a stick."
"Think he'll take anyone?"
"He doesn't mind who shows up. It's not official Guild training, but half the Sprouts in the valley have passed through his yard at least once."
---
A training yard.
Kael's heart leapt.
---
The quiet hours
That evening, Kael added something new to their secret routine.
When the streets were quiet and no one was around, they found an empty patch of dirt behind the drying sheds and started practicing moving—low stances, dodging between imaginary blows, climbing up the fence and dropping quietly, then running loops until their breath burned.
---
They weren't alone this time.
---
Ryn
Halfway through a set of fence climbs, Kael heard a gasp.
They turned.
A boy stood a few feet away, wide-eyed.
He was about their age, maybe a little older, with dark hair falling in uneven pieces across his forehead.
"I—I didn't mean to watch," he stammered.
---
Kael blinked. They had no idea how long he had been standing there.
"You climb really fast," the boy said, still staring.
---
And Kael realized why: their curse.
Whatever he saw, it wasn't really Kael. It was whatever his heart most wanted to see.
Sweat and focus only made the effect stronger.
---
Kael swallowed. "Thanks. I was just practicing."
---
The boy flushed. "You… look like you know what you're doing. Are you going to be an adventurer?"
"Maybe," Kael said.
"You'll be good at it," the boy blurted out, then went red. "I mean—uh—I'm Ryn."
"Kael," they said.
---
Ryn fidgeted. "Could I—watch again? Or maybe—practice? I want to be stronger too, but I don't know how."
---
Kael tilted their head. No one had ever asked that before.
"Alright," they said finally. "If you want to run with me, you can."
---
Running with company
The next morning, Ryn was waiting.
He wasn't as fast, but he tried.
By the end of the loops, he was bent over, gasping. Kael handed him a flask of water.
---
"You'll get used to it," Kael said.
Ryn grinned between breaths. "You make it look easy."
"It's not," Kael said, "but it gets easier."
---
For the next week, Ryn showed up almost every morning.
They ran. Climbed fences. Balanced on rails.
Kael didn't show him magic. That was private.
But the company made the training different—harder, but also lighter.
---
Ryn started asking questions.
"What else do adventurers do to get ready?"
Kael shrugged. "I think it's everything. Running. Balance. Seeing things coming. Learning to stand up even when you're tired."
---
"You sound like you already know."
"I'm just guessing," Kael said, smiling.
---
A dangerous experiment
That afternoon, Kael went back to the river alone.
They sat cross-legged, hands on their knees, and whispered the glow spell.
When the light came, they pushed.
---
They counted each heartbeat, feeling the pull grow.
This time, they stopped before the black spots appeared.
The light flickered out, but the dizzy edge was farther away.
Mana was like a jar that stretched if you kept filling and emptying it.
---
That night, Kael wrote it down in a scrap notebook:
Don't empty it completely.
If you push too far, you get sick.
If you drain it all, you might die.
But each time you use it, the jar gets bigger.
---
News from the Annex
The next morning, Kael and Ryn stopped by the Annex on their run.
Two Sprouts were there, talking to the scribe.
"I can't wait for Sef's drills this evening," one of them said. "If we can get through this set, we'll be Branch by next spring."
---
Kael froze.
There it was again: Sef's training yard.
Real drills. Something official.
---
"Think we could watch?" Ryn whispered.
Kael's eyes lit up. "If we're quiet."
---
That afternoon, they planned to slip by the yard after chores.
But even as they walked home, Kael's mind stayed on two things:
Magic, and the training yard.
If they could balance both, maybe—just maybe—they'd be ready when their turn came.
---
That night, Kael whispered their glow spell once more. The light lingered in their hands, and they stared into it, breathing deep.
This time, they stopped before it hurt.
One step at a time.