Sunlight seeped lazily through Clover's window, but he didn't move. School? Vanguardaum Academy? The thought made him groan. No way. Today, he wasn't going.
A soft knock came from the kitchen. "Clover! Breakfast!" Camilla's voice carried that impossible mix of cheer and command.
Clover rolled over, burying his face in the pillow. "…Mmm… five more minutes," he muttered.
The knocking grew firmer. "Clover, I'm serious. Get up!"
He flopped out of bed with exaggerated effort, dragging his feet like every step was a chore. Plan time.He shuffled into the kitchen. Camilla's sharp gaze immediately found him. "Good morning. Ready for your first day?"
Clover yawned, stretching dramatically. "…Oh… about that. You know… my stomach…" He clutched it as if a storm were brewing inside him.Camilla raised an eyebrow. "Your stomach
"Yes! Uh very… delicate. Extremely delicate. Could be… dangerous if I… walk to school. Might—uh—explode.
Her lips pressed together, unimpressed.
Clover dropped his gaze, pretending to look pained. "…And, uh… I shouldn't risk it today. Maybe… a doctor visit. Very urgent."
Camilla crossed her arms, suspicion rising. "Clover… you've never cared about stomachaches before."He widened his eyes, innocent as a fox caught mid-theft. "This one's… special. Genetic. Runs in the family… maybe…" He coughed and grabbed a napkin dramatically. "…Could be… lethal.Camilla blinked. "…Lethal?"Clover nodded vigorously. "Absolutely. Can't go to the academy today. You'd never forgive me if something… tragic happened."
Camilla's stern look softened slightly, but her motherly radar was still on. "…And what, exactly, do you plan to do instead?"
Clover's face lit up, pretending to think hard. "…Oh! I thought I'd… uh… help out around the house. Very important chores. Can't let things… get messy."Camilla hesitated. "…Clover… you've spent half your life avoiding chores."
He gasped in mock shock. "But today… it's… different. Critical! I may… uh… rearrange the furniture. Sort the… spice cabinet. Very… urgent domestic emergency."
She pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. "…Fine. But one wrong move, and you'll regret it. And no skipping meals."
"Yes! Thank you, Mom! You won't regret this. I am… extremely responsible today." Clover grinned slyly, already thinking about his real plan: heading to Ryker's house instead of the academy.As Camilla turned away, Clover slouched dramatically to his room, muttering: "…Step one complete. Academy avoided. Ryker… here I come.Clover slipped out the back door, toes barely making a sound on the wooden porch. The morning air was crisp, birds chirping… and completely oblivious to the chaos he was about to cause.
He paused, eyeing the laundry line. "Hmm… maybe… just a tiny bit of… mischief."
A quick flick of his fingers sent a loose clothespin sailing into the air, landing perfectly on the neighbor's dog. The dog barked, yelped, then shook its head, scattering the laundry further. Clover ducked behind a bush, snickering. "Perfect diversion. Totally accidental, of course."The path to Ryker's house stretched through quiet streets. Clover slouched, hands in pockets, rehearsing excuses in case anyone saw him. "Out for… urgent… air quality check… yes, that works."Halfway there, he spotted Mrs. Lanning, the nosy neighbor, watering her flowers. Clover froze, thinking fast. Then, with a grin, he kicked a small pebble toward a pile of leaves across the street. A thump, a rustle… and Clover disappeared behind a fence as Mrs. Lanning looked over, puzzled.
"Good morning, Mrs. Lanning!" he called cheerfully from the shadows, his voice innocent as a kitten's.The woman squinted. "Morning… Clover?"
He waved a hand as if adjusting an invisible hat. Perfectly fine day, isn't it?" And vanished before she could ask further.
Finally, the familiar silhouette of Ryker's house appeared, tucked behind a tangle of trees and shadows. Clover's pulse quickened—not from fear, but anticipation. Today, training would begin.He scaled the low fence with more grace than he felt, landing lightly on the mossy garden path. The front door loomed like a portal to the unknown. He paused, heart hammering.
"…Alright… just like I rehearsed," Clover muttered. "Enter. Impress. Avoid getting roasted. Minimal screaming."
A soft creak echoed as he pushed the door open. Inside, Ryker's house smelled of old parchment, candle wax, and something faintly metallic. Shadowed corners hinted at hidden corridors and secrets Clover couldn't wait to discover.He froze, hand instinctively going to his pocket. The shard. A small pulse of warmth against his fingers reminded him it was there—only… it wasn't.Clover blinked. "Wait… what?"
From the shadows, Ryker stepped forward, calm, hands folded. In his palm glimmered the shard, softly pulsing like it had a heartbeat of its own."…Looking for this?" Ryker's voice was low, unreadable.
Clover's jaw dropped. "H-How… that was in my pocket! I—"Not anymore," Ryker said simply. "Some things move on their own. You aren't ready to carry it yet."Clover swallowed, unease crawling up his spine. This wasn't the mischievous morning he'd planned. Something bigger… something dangerous… is already in motion.
Ryker's eyes, sharp and unreadable, scanned him. "Since you've come… you'll train. And you'll learn quickly why some things are meant to be handled carefully—before they handle you.Clover's grin faltered. "Yeah… sure… totally casual training. Nothing ominous here. No problem."
Clover rubbed the back of his neck, still staring at the shard floating in Ryker's hand. "So… uh… you just, like… keep it? For safekeeping? Ryker's eyes didn't flinch. "It chooses its bearer. For now… that isn't you."
Clover groaned. "Great. Totally normal morning. Woke up, avoided school, almost got caught by a nosy neighbor, and now… apparently, I'm unworthy of magical pocket things."Ryker raised an eyebrow. "Focus."
Clover straightened, trying to look serious, but his fingers twitched nervously. "Right. Focus. Totally… serious.
Ryker motioned toward the open training room. Blades, ropes, and small weighted orbs hovered in the air, suspended by faint magical energy. "Lesson one: control your body before you attempt to control anything else. Reflexes, agility, perception."
Clover squinted. "Okay… so… dodge stuff. Catch stuff. Don't die. Got it. Easy peasy."
"Don't underestimate this," Ryker said, his voice calm but sharp. "Even the simplest movements can be lethal if you lack control."
Clover nodded… and immediately tripped over a small, hidden obstacle. He landed flat on his face. "Ow! Seriously! That was… invisible! Cheating!"
Ryker didn't move a muscle. "Your body doesn't lie. You weren't ready. Try again."
Clover pushed himself up, brushing dirt off his pants. "Fine! Totally ready. No problem. Minimal screaming. Maybe a little screaming."He lunged at a suspended orb, misjudged the timing, and sent it spinning wildly across the room. It clattered against a wall, rattling other objects. Clover froze, heart hammering.
Ryker's gaze was unblinking. "Patience. Precision. Power without control is nothing. Now, again."Clover groaned, muttering under his breath, "And here I thought avoiding Vanguardaum Academy would be the hardest thing today
A soft glow pulsed from the corner of the room—the shard. Even from a distance, Clover felt it tug at his attention, like it was whispering, soon He shook his head, trying to focus on the training. Every misstep, every wobble reminded him of how little he truly understood—not just his own body, but the invisible forces at play.Ryker finally stepped closer, watching him fumble with silent, sharp scrutiny. "You are impulsive, reckless, and underestimating your potential. That's why the shard moved. It knows you're not ready."Clover sighed. "Yeah I figured that part out after my fourth fail. But hey… progress, right?
Ryker's lips twitched—almost a smile. "Barely. Clover straightened again, determination creeping into his voice. "Alright. Fifth attempt. Let's go. No mistakes. Totally controlled. Totally casual. Maybe."
The shard pulsed faintly again, almost as if approving—or warning. Clover's heart skipped. Today's training wasn't just about reflexes. Something bigger, something dangerous, was already moving around him—and for the first time, he realized: he couldn't treat it like a game anymore