The morning sun filtered through the canopy of Thornwood Forest, casting fractured light across the narrow dirt path where Astrid Vermillion walked alone. She was twelve years old, and blood seeped through the makeshift bandage wrapped around her left shoulder.
It wasn't a deep wound—not by her standards, anyway. Three days ago, she'd tracked a Razorback Boar into its den, thinking she could handle it with just her hunting knife and determination. She'd been wrong. The beast had caught her with its tusk as she rolled away, tearing through leather and flesh in one brutal motion.
She'd killed it, eventually. Bled it out while it thrashed. Dragged the carcass halfway back to Millhaven before her strength gave out and she had to abandon it.
Now she walked through the forest, jaw clenched against the throbbing pain, trying to figure out how to explain the wound to her father without admitting she'd gone hunting alone again.
"Astrid!"
She froze at the sound of her name, recognizing the voice immediately. A moment later, Kaelen Ashford emerged from between two ancient oaks, his silver-blonde hair catching the sunlight in a way that made him look almost ethereal. He was thirteen, a year older than her, and already showing signs of the powerful mage he'd become.
"What are you doing out here?" Kaelen's blue eyes—pale, almost translucent—scanned her form, stopping immediately on the blood-stained bandage. His expression shifted from casual concern to sharp focus. "You're hurt."
"I'm fine," Astrid said automatically, adjusting her worn leather vest to hide more of the bandage. "Just a scratch."
"That's not a scratch." Kaelen moved closer, and Astrid fought the urge to step back. She never stepped back. "Let me see it."
"I said I'm fine."
"And I said let me see it."
They stared at each other for a long moment. This was familiar territory—Kaelen trying to take care of her, Astrid refusing to be taken care of. It had been this way since they were children playing in the village square, since the day six years ago when Kaelen's family had moved to Millhaven and he'd seen her climbing a tree twice her height.
*"You'll fall,"* he'd said.
*"So?"* she'd replied, climbing higher.
She'd fallen, of course. Broken her arm. And Kaelen had stayed with her the entire time the village healer set the bone, talking about nothing and everything to distract her from the pain.
That's when it had started—this strange friendship where Kaelen acted like her guardian and Astrid pretended she didn't need one.
"Astrid." Kaelen's voice pulled her back to the present. "You're being stubborn again."
"I'm always stubborn," she shot back, but even as she said it, she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. The wound must have reopened during her walk. She'd lost more blood than she thought.
Kaelen saw it—saw the moment her knees went weak. He moved with the fluid speed that came from magical training, catching her before she could fall. His hands were gentle as he guided her to sit against a nearby tree.
"Don't," Astrid started, but her protest died as Kaelen carefully unwrapped the blood-soaked bandage.
The wound was worse than she'd thought. The flesh was torn and angry, already showing signs of infection. Kaelen's jaw tightened.
"A Razorback?" he asked quietly.
"How did you—"
"The wound pattern. I've read about them in the bestiary." He looked up at her, and there was something in his eyes she couldn't quite read. Anger? Worry? "You went into Thornwood alone."
"I can handle myself."
"Clearly." The word was dry, but his hands were already glowing with soft blue light. Basic healing magic—one of the first things taught to mage apprentices. "This is going to hurt."
"Everything hurts," Astrid muttered, but she braced herself against the tree bark.
The healing magic felt like ice and fire simultaneously, burning away the infection and knitting flesh back together. Astrid bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood, refusing to make a sound. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
Kaelen worked in silence, his concentration absolute. This was the side of him that most people saw—the gifted young mage, already being courted by the Silverpeak Academy for advanced magical studies. The prodigy who could cast spells that took others years to master.
What they didn't see was the way his hands trembled slightly as he healed her. The way his breathing was a little too controlled, like he was holding something back.
After what felt like an eternity, the blue light faded. The wound wasn't completely healed—Kaelen's magic wasn't strong enough yet for that—but it was closed, clean, and no longer life-threatening.
"There," he said, pulling back. "You'll need to rest it for a few days. No more hunting."
"Can't promise that."
"Astrid—"
"I said I can't promise that." She met his eyes, her own green gaze steady despite the exhaustion pulling at her. "I need to get stronger. The Guild exam is in four years, and I need to be ready."
Kaelen was quiet for a moment. Then he stood, brushing dirt from his training robes. "You know that most people who take the Guild exam have magical training, right? Combat mages, elemental specialists, enchanters. The non-magical recruits are rare, and most of them wash out."
"I know."
"And you know that even if you pass, you'll always be at a disadvantage. In dungeons, against demons, against other Guild members—"
"I know!" Astrid's voice cracked, sharp and sudden. She forced herself to take a breath, to push down the anger that always rose when someone pointed out what she already knew. "I know I'm... different. I know I can't sense Aether like you can. I know that every fight I take, I'm starting ten steps behind everyone else."
She pulled herself to her feet, ignoring the lingering ache in her shoulder. "But I'm going to make it anyway. I have to."
Kaelen looked at her for a long moment, and Astrid couldn't read his expression. That was the worst part about Kaelen—she could read everyone else in the village. The blacksmith's daughter who pitied her. The mayor's son who thought she was wasting her time. Even her own father, who loved her but worried constantly.
But Kaelen? Kaelen's face was a mask, revealing nothing.
"Why?" he asked finally. "Why do you have to join the Guild?"
Because I need to prove that I'm not useless, Astrid thought. Because everyone looks at me like I'm broken, like I'm less than human because I can't feel the magical energy that flows through everything else in this world. Because I need to prove to myself that I'm worth something.
But she didn't say any of that. Instead, she just shrugged. "Because I want to."
Kaelen sighed, and for a moment, he looked older than thirteen. Tired. "You're impossible."
"Thanks."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"I'll take it as one anyway." Astrid started walking back toward the village path, testing her shoulder. It held. Kaelen's healing had been good—better than the village healer could have managed. "Are you coming or not?"
"Where are you going?"
"Home. Where else?"
"You're going to the training grounds," Kaelen said, and it wasn't a question. He knew her too well. "You're going to practice with your sword until your shoulder gives out, and then you're going to practice some more."
Astrid turned back to him, a small smirk playing at her lips. "What if I am?"
"Then I'm coming with you."
"Why? To lecture me about rest and recovery?"
"No." Kaelen fell into step beside her, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe. "To make sure you don't collapse and bleed out where no one can find you."
Astrid wanted to argue, to tell him she didn't need a babysitter. But the truth was... having Kaelen there made things easier. Not that she'd ever admit it out loud.
They walked in comfortable silence for a while, following the winding path back toward Millhaven. The village was small—maybe three hundred people total—nestled in the valley between Thornwood Forest and the Silverpeaks mountain range. It was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone else's business, where nothing exciting ever happened.
Which was exactly why Astrid wanted to leave.
"Did you finish the enchantment Master Aldric assigned you?" Astrid asked, breaking the silence. It was easier to talk about Kaelen's training than her own struggles.
"Last week. He's already moved me on to defensive wards."
"Of course he has." Astrid kicked at a loose stone. "You're probably going to graduate early, aren't you?"
"Master Aldric thinks I'll be ready for the Academy by next year."
Next year. Kaelen would be fourteen—young, even for a prodigy. The Silverpeak Academy usually didn't accept students until they were sixteen, but exceptions were made for exceptional talent.
And Kaelen was exceptional. Everyone knew it. Everyone expected great things from him.
"That's good," Astrid said, and she meant it. Really. Even if it meant he'd leave Millhaven. Even if it meant she'd be here alone. "You'll do great there."
Kaelen didn't respond right away. When Astrid glanced at him, he was staring straight ahead, his expression unreadable again.
"What about you?" he asked finally. "What's your plan?"
"Train. Get stronger. Pass the Guild exam in four years."
"And if you don't pass?"
"I will."
"But if you don't—"
"I will, Kaelen." Astrid stopped walking, turning to face him directly. "I know you think I'm crazy. I know you think I'm wasting my time trying to compete with mages and magical warriors. But this is all I have. I can't cast spells. I can't sense Aether. I can't do any of the things that make someone important in this world. So I'm going to be the best at what I *can* do—fighting. Surviving. Refusing to quit."
Kaelen met her gaze, and for just a moment, something flickered in his pale blue eyes. Something that looked almost like... pain?
But then it was gone, replaced by his usual composed expression. "I don't think you're wasting your time."
"Could've fooled me."
"I think you're going to get yourself killed before you ever take that exam." Kaelen's voice was flat, matter-of-fact. "I think you push yourself too hard, take too many risks, and refuse help even when you desperately need it. I think you'd rather bleed out in a forest than admit you can't handle something alone."
Astrid felt her face heating up—whether from anger or embarrassment, she wasn't sure. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"I'm not done." Kaelen stepped closer, and suddenly they were standing very close together on the narrow path. "I also think you're the most determined person I've ever met. I think you're braver than half the mages at the Academy. And I think that if anyone can beat the odds and make it into the Guild without magic... it's you."
Astrid stared at him, momentarily at a loss for words. Kaelen didn't give compliments lightly. He was too honest, too precise with his words.
"But," he continued, his voice softening slightly, "you need to be smarter about it. Train hard, yes. Push yourself, yes. But don't throw your life away trying to prove a point. Because if you die..." He paused, something crossing his face too quickly for Astrid to catch. "It would be a waste."
"A waste?" Astrid's trademark smirk returned. "That's the best you can do? 'It would be a waste'?"
"What do you want me to say?"
*I want you to say you'd care. I want you to say it would hurt you. I want you to show me something real instead of this controlled, perfect mask you always wear.*
But Astrid didn't say any of that. Instead, she just shrugged. "Nothing. Forget it."
She started walking again, and after a moment, Kaelen followed.
They reached the training grounds just as the village clock tower chimed noon. The training grounds were really just a clearing behind the blacksmith's workshop, with some wooden posts for target practice and a few training dummies that had seen better days.
Astrid moved to the weapons rack—a rickety wooden structure that held the village's communal training weapons. She selected a practice sword, testing its weight and balance.
"Your shoulder—" Kaelen started.
"Is fine," Astrid finished. She moved through a basic form, testing her range of motion. It hurt, but it was manageable. "See? Fine."
Kaelen just shook his head and settled onto a nearby bench, clearly prepared to keep his word about staying to watch her.
Astrid tried to ignore him as she worked through her forms. It was harder than it should have been—she was always hyperaware of Kaelen's presence, of those pale blue eyes watching her every move.
Not that it mattered. Kaelen was just... Kaelen. Her childhood friend. The mage prodigy who tolerated her company for reasons she'd never quite understood.
He'd leave for the Academy soon. He'd probably forget all about the stubborn, magic-less girl from his village. He'd go on to become something great—a court mage, maybe, or a Guild master. Someone important.
And Astrid would stay here, training alone, fighting to become something more than what the world expected of her.
That was just how things were.
So why did the thought of Kaelen leaving make her chest feel tight?
Astrid pushed the thought away and focused on her sword forms, losing herself in the familiar rhythm of strike, parry, dodge, counter. This was her magic—the poetry of combat, written in sweat and determination.
And if Kaelen wanted to waste his afternoon watching her practice, well... that was his choice.
Even if it made her heart beat a little faster every time she caught him staring.