The courtyard was alive with noise. Students sparred in pairs, blades flashing, elements crackling through the air. Fire whips scorched the stone tiles, water surged into shields, wind gusts sent opponents stumbling.
Kael stayed at the edge, hands tucked into his sleeves, watching quietly. He hated these sessions. Not because of the fighting — he wanted nothing more than to test himself — but because everyone knew he didn't belong here.
"Hey, failure."
The voice cut through the crowd. Kael stiffened before he even turned.
Darius Veylan stood across the courtyard, arms folded, a smirk tugging at his lips. His crimson-embroidered uniform gleamed as though it had been stitched with fire itself.
"You planning to just watch forever?" Darius said loudly, drawing the eyes of half the class. "Or are you going to embarrass yourself again?"
Laughter rippled. Kael's stomach tightened. He forced his voice to stay even.
"I don't need to prove anything to you."
"Oh, but you do." Darius stepped closer, his presence suffocating. "Because right now, everyone here is asking the same thing: why are you allowed to stand among us?"
Kael's fists clenched. He said nothing.
The instructor barked from the sidelines, "Veylan, Ardyn. Duel, now. Let the crowd decide."
The courtyard erupted with cheers.
They faced each other on the stone tiles, a wide circle forming around them.
Kael's heart hammered. He had no weapon, no element to summon that wouldn't expose Shadowfire. But walking away would mean surrendering to the laughter.
Darius summoned flame with a snap of his fingers. A ribbon of fire curled along his arm, burning bright, feeding on his arrogance.
"Try not to cry this time."
Kael shifted his stance. The crowd faded from his mind. All he felt was the familiar coil of Shadowfire deep inside, waiting like a beast in chains.
The fight began.
Darius struck first — a burst of fire rushing straight toward Kael. Kael dodged, the heat grazing his skin. He stumbled, recovered, and forced himself forward. He couldn't summon power, so he relied on speed, instincts, desperation.
The crowd jeered. "He's just running!"
"Pathetic!"
Kael's chest burned with shame. Darius's grin widened as flame after flame chased him across the circle.
Finally, Kael snapped. His body moved before his mind caught up — he raised his hand, and for an instant, a dark spark flared at his fingertips. Shadowfire, hungry, eager.
Gasps rippled through the air. Darius froze, eyes narrowing.
But Kael crushed it down, forcing his hand into a fist. No. Not here. Not yet.
Darius didn't miss the hesitation. His smirk turned sharp. "Interesting." He lunged, flame surging, and Kael barely twisted aside. The strike singed his sleeve, searing heat biting into his arm. Pain flared.
He staggered but stayed on his feet. Breathing hard, sweating, heart racing — but unbroken.
The instructor called it. "Enough! Veylan wins."
Cheers rose, drowning out Kael's ragged breaths.
Darius leaned close as the crowd dispersed, his whisper low and dangerous. "Whatever that spark was, Ardyn… I'll drag it out of you. And when I do, you'll wish you'd stayed a nobody."
Kael didn't answer. He couldn't. His throat was tight, his arm throbbed with pain, and his chest ached from swallowing the Shadowfire.
But inside, a spark of defiance burned hotter than any flame Darius could conjure.
I'll prove you wrong. All of you.