Kaelen stirred awake to the sound of hurried footsteps and frantic voices echoing across the estate. The news had spread fast—a bandit camp deep within the forest had been found destroyed, reduced to scorched ruins with nothing left but the charred corpses of its inhabitants. The estate was buzzing with shock, fear, and speculation.
But Kaelen—lying silently under the sheets—felt none of the awe others spoke with. His body ached faintly, but it was the heaviness in his chest that hurt most. I killed them... with my own hands. The realization refused to leave him. No matter how justified it was, no matter how monstrous the bandits had been—he had taken human lives. His fists trembled as he stared at the ceiling, memories of light-imbued blades and screaming men flashing across his mind.
The door creaked open softly.
"Kaelen..." Lyra's gentle voice called out, carrying a worried undertone.
She approached his bed with her usual grace,. But as she looked closer, she noticed the unusual dullness in his eyes. The boy who usually hid behind a blank expression now wore a storm of emotion barely contained beneath his calm.
"You're not hurt... but something's wrong," she murmured, kneeling beside him.
Kaelen stayed silent.
Lyra's eyes flicked to the faint burn marks on his gloves and sleeves—the residual energy that still clung to him. She recalled the reports of the forest's explosion, the massive crater, the evidence of spirit magic... and in that moment, realization dawned on her.
"You were there," she whispered, voice trembling. "You stopped them... alone."
Kaelen didn't respond. His lips pressed tightly together, his fists clenched under the sheets. Lyra didn't ask why. She simply pulled him into her arms, wrapping him in a warm, protective embrace. Her voice was soft, but firm with understanding.
"You did what you had to, to protect others. That doesn't make you a monster. It makes you human. You feel pain because your heart knows the weight of a life... that's something many warriors forget. Don't lose that."
Her words struck something deep within him. Kaelen, overwhelmed by guilt and fear of what he was becoming, finally let a few tears fall—quiet, fleeting, and hidden against her shoulder.
Later that morning, Kaelen came down for breakfast, composed but distant. His family was already seated when his father, Renaldor, set his goblet down with a heavy tone.
"We received a message. A representative from Emperor Rudra's court will be visiting in three days. They wish to assess the magical talent of noble children in this region."
The room went quiet.
Renaldor looked to Allaric and Lyra. "That means you three will be required to demonstrate your abilities. Make sure you're prepared."
Kaelen's heart still weighed from the morning, but a flicker of clarity returned to his mind. I can't freeze now. I need to move forward... I need to grow stronger.
Later that day, he approached Allaric in the courtyard. The older boy raised an eyebrow in surprise.
Kaelen: "Teach me swordsmanship and help me train physically."
Allaric gave him a sideways look, smirking slightly.
Allaric: "Oh? fainally decided not to embarras the familly?"
Kaelen: (coolly) "I just wanna make sure you wont embarras the familly"
Allaric paused, then laughed. "Heh... fair enough. Let's see if you can keep up, little brother."
From the side, their mother watched them through the window. She smiled knowingly, seeing through Allaric's bluff.
"He really is growing up," she whispered, chuckling softly to herself.
The sun sat high in the sky when Kaelen took his position opposite Allaric in the estate's private training yard. Sweat already beaded on his brow just from their warm-up.
Allaric tossed him a wooden training sword, smirking.
Allaric: "Don't think I'll go easy just because you're my brother. Let's see if your magic brain can handle some real steel."
Kaelen caught the sword with a firm grip. "Good. I wasn't expecting mercy."
And so began their sparring session.
At first, Allaric drilled him through the fundamentals—proper stance, grip, footwork. Kaelen struggled at first, unused to the weight and balance, but quickly adapted. The repetition was intense: high guard blocks, diagonal slashes, shoulder pivots, feints, and forward thrusts.Kaelen wasn't gifted with brute strength, but his focus and speed more than made up for it. Thanks to Future Attack Prediction, he began to instinctively recognize micro-movements and body signals, dodging slightly before strikes landed. Still, without experience or real technique, he was on the defensive more often than not.
Allaric: "Not bad, you're picking this up faster than I thought."
By midday, Kaelen could replicate the basic forms with accuracy and was already experimenting with counter-strikes. Allaric taught him three advanced moves:
Moonstep Parry: A short, circular sidestep paired with a rising deflection.Fang Rush: A mid-lunge feint that transitions into a low sweeping cut.Twin Edge Spiral: A spinning slash move with dual light blades that Kaelen adapted using [Light Manipulation].
He failed again and again. His strikes were too soft, his timing off, but by late afternoon, he was landing clean hits in training bouts. Bruised and tired, Kaelen finally collapsed onto the grassy edge of the yard, breathing hard.
Kaelen: "Still not enough..."
As the golden sun began to dip below the horizon, Kaelen closed his eyes and sat cross-legged beneath a tree. If I can't overpower with strength, I'll need more magicules... I need to grow stronger.
He began to meditate, calming his breath and focusing inward. Slowly, his magic settled, converging like a spiral into his core. Then, something shifted—his senses dulled, the world fell away, and he found himself floating.
When Kaelen opened his eyes, he wasn't in the estate anymore.
He stood in an endless world of darkness. No stars, no wind, no sound. A perfect void stretching into infinity. He looked down—no floor, and yet he stood. His voice caught in his throat. Where... am I?
Suddenly, a golden radiance pulsed in front of him. It started small, like a star being born, then expanded, revealing a form stepping forward from the light. Robes of midnight black trimmed in gold fluttered without wind. Glowing runes traced the hem of his sleeves. His hair was a deep azure, falling over his face, hiding one eye beneath a curtain of divine blue. A faint, otherworldly pressure surrounded him—both regal and cosmic.
The being hovered slightly above the ground, legs crossed casually, arms relaxed, yet Kaelen felt like a mere insect under his gaze.
A wry smile curved the man's lips.
Veldanava: "Took you long enough, kid."
Kaelen blinked. "You... You're Veldanava..."
Veldanava: "In part, yes. The will left behind in the skill you carry... Founder. Been watching since you were born in this world." He tilted his head slightly, gold eyes glowing with restrained power. "You've finally touched the thread between soul and essence. That meditation cracked the gate."
Kaelen: "So this is... my unconscious world?"
Veldanava floated downward until they stood face to face. "Something like that. A piece of your soul-space. Still fragile, but with potential."
Kaelen swallowed, still absorbing the surreal moment. "Why now?"
Veldanava raised a brow. "Because you're starting to walk the path of power. You've killed. You've created. You're learning. And now..." he raised a hand, and Kaelen's surroundings shimmered with stars and timelines and runes etched in pure light, "it's time I start guiding you."