Richard returned to the manor and was immediately wrapped in the warm affection of his mother. She was tall and slender, with long flowing blond hair and a blue dress trimmed in elegant gold. Her sky-blue eyes brightened as her narrow lips curved into a soft smile.
She placed a gentle hand on Richard's head, ruffling his hair before leaning down to kiss his forehead.
"How was your training?" she asked.
"Great!" Richard blurted, more excited than she'd ever seen him. "I beat my first opponent with a sword." He launched into a dramatic reenactment, complete with exaggerated swings and footwork.
"I'm glad you're finally enjoying it," she said when he finished. "Training takes focus and dedication. Once you learn to love it, everything falls into place."
"It would be easier if my power was unlocked," he admitted. "Everyone from Condor that's going into the Order with me already has theirs."
"It's not a competition, sweetie," she said gently. "Unlocking your power is wonderful, but it isn't the most important thing. What matters is how you use that power when it awakens. You protect the kingdom. You defend our way of life. And you never let your power convince you that you're better than anyone else."
"You're a mage, though," Richard pointed out. "You can unlock my power with magic."
"It doesn't work that way." She laughed softly. "Your power is tied to you. To who you are. It awakens when your true nature reaches the moment it needs. There's no clear path to it for anyone.
"The Order will put you in different situations to help you align with your power. When it happens, you'll understand it."
"How did you unlock yours?" he asked, pulling her toward a chair so he could study every word.
"It wasn't a pleasant awakening," she said. "And it's not one I ever want you to repeat."
"Tell me," he insisted.
She hesitated, but she knew he'd keep pressing. "I died."
"What?"
"I drowned," she continued softly. "I went too far into the water with friends, and the current pulled me out. I panicked… and then everything went dark. It felt like forever. When I woke, your father had pulled me from the water and saved my life. Power surged through me, wild and overwhelming. I didn't know how to control it. I blasted everyone nearby without meaning to."
Richard swallowed. "Do you think I have to drown to unlock mine?"
"No. That was my awakening. Yours will be unique to you. Some people unlock their power easily. Some never do. But I'll tell you a secret, if you promise not to try anything reckless."
"I promise."
"People who struggle the most to unlock their power," she whispered, "usually awaken something exceptional."
Richard leaned back, feeling unexpectedly special. Maybe that was why it was taking so long. Maybe his power was extraordinary.
"I think that's it!" he burst out. "Because I'm the son of two of the greatest heroes ever!"
"Calm down," she laughed.
"Where's Father?" he asked.
"He's on assignment. He won't be home for a few days. Why don't you rest? You trained all day, and your body needs rest to grow stronger."
"I'm hungry," Richard said. "I need to eat first."
She guided him to the dining room. He ate the entire meal quickly, forgetting every bit of table etiquette he'd ever learned. When he finished, he ran to his bedchamber, threw himself into the soft bed, and fell asleep instantly.
Morning arrived too quickly. Sunlight poured through the window, greeting him with warmth and possibility.
He rose, washed in the basin that had been freshly prepared for him, changed clothes, and rushed outside. He sprinted straight to the training grounds—only to find that Quintin wasn't there.
After waiting for what felt like forever, still no Quintin appeared. Richard picked up his training sword and went to work on the practice dummy. His strikes were smoother than yesterday, more confident.
An hour passed. Boredom followed.
Then, finally, he spotted Quintin crossing the yard—with another young man at his side. This one didn't look like a poor citizen seeking lessons. He carried himself with discipline. Confidence. Training.
"Ready for another lesson?" Quintin asked. The young man beside him wore a sly smile.
"I've been ready," Richard said, bouncing on his toes. "You're the one who's late."
"This is Manuel," Quintin introduced. "He's home visiting his family after completing a year of training with the Order of Condor."
Richard froze. Cold dread crept into his stomach. His palms grew damp.
"What's the matter?" Manuel asked. "Quintin said you were actually pretty good. I'll take it easy on you."
"If he said I insulted your mother, I didn't," Richard said flatly.
Quintin burst into laughter.
"Pick up your gear," Quintin ordered. "Let's begin."
Richard grabbed his sword and stepped into position across from Manuel.
"Ready… fight!"
Richard expected Manuel to rush him with overwhelming attacks. Instead, Manuel didn't move. He simply shifted his stance, maintaining perfect defense.
Richard stepped in with a light thrust. Manuel deflected without effort.
Another thrust. Another overhead swing. All deflected. Manuel's movements were calm, smooth, almost graceful. His footwork flowed without breaking form.
"Is he scared of me?" Richard wondered. "Did the old man warn him about something?"
Frustrated, Richard launched a full offensive. He swung across the chest—dodged. He struck downward with power—blocked. The impact rattled Richard's hands, but Manuel didn't flinch.
"Are you going to fight?" Richard snapped. "Or just stand there like that training dummy?"
"I didn't think you were ready," Manuel said with a calm smile. "I was trying to let you build confidence."
"Just fight me already!"
Richard brought another powerful swing. Manuel stepped aside. A sudden impact slammed into Richard's chest—Manuel's shoulder. The momentum carried through as Manuel lifted him off the ground, flipped him through the air, and drove him into the dirt.
The air burst from Richard's lungs. His sword fell from his hand.
"I told you that you weren't ready," Manuel chuckled.
Richard clawed back to his knees, grabbed his sword, and tried to breathe. Embarrassment burned through him. They set him up to be humiliated. Once he recovered enough to stand, he glared at Manuel.
"Let's go," he said coldly.
"It's not smart to fight me like this," Manuel warned. "Anger kills focus."
"Did you come here to fight or to talk?"
Manuel glanced at Quintin, who shrugged.
"Ready… fight!"
Richard charged in. Every technique he had was unleashed. Strikes from every angle, his footwork sharp and disciplined.
Manuel dodged all of it. Deflected with ease. Sidestepped without breaking rhythm. He didn't give an inch of ground.
Richard's sweat dripped down his back. His muscles trembled. His attacks slowed. His sword felt heavier.
For his final attempt, he thrust forward with everything he had. Manuel deflected it downward with precision and backhanded Richard clean across the face. Before Richard could react, he felt himself flip again and crash onto the ground. A wooden sword hovered at his throat.
"You wouldn't be breathing if this were real," Manuel said. "You have talent. Good style. Good footwork. But you're still a rookie."
Richard wanted to punch him. But his exhausted body refused to move.
"That's enough," Quintin said. "Excellent training today. A fantastic display of effort."
"Excellent?" Richard gasped. "He crushed me!"
"We learn as much from our losses as from our victories," Manuel said.
"That wasn't a fight," Richard muttered. "You hardly tried."
"I didn't need to," Manuel replied. "You defeated yourself."
"No more fighting today," Quintin decided.
"I can stay if you want," Manuel offered. "I can show you what I learned in the Order."
Richard's eyes lit up. Military techniques. Real training. His heart raced.
"Sure," he said, accepting Manuel's hand as he was helped to his feet.
"You have skill," Manuel said. "You just need experience to guide it."
"I couldn't land a single hit," Richard admitted.
Manuel lifted his hands. They were red and bruised.
"Your attacks were fast and strong," Manuel said. "They hurt. No one's ever done that to me. But experience let me push past the pain and anticipate your moves. You never stopped long enough to understand what I was doing. You burned your own energy, and I let you."
"You let me tire myself out," Richard groaned.
"Don't be too hard on yourself. These things come with time. I'll tell you the most important lesson I learned."
Richard leaned forward eagerly.
"Your greatest enemy is yourself."
Richard stared, disappointed.
"That's the point," Manuel said. "You don't understand the weight behind those words yet. Come on. Let me teach you how to make sure you never lose like that again."