Flame Archon

The old training grounds looked different in the pale morning light. The crumbling pillars cast long shadows, and the grass sparkled with dew. Cynus stood near the edge of the clearing, stretching his sore muscles while Ren lounged on a nearby rock, tossing a coin in the air.

Lyric arrived shortly after, carried by a faint gust of wind that sent her silver hair fluttering. She landed with a light step, shooting Ren a glare as he smirked at her dramatic entrance.

"Nice of you to join us," Lyric said, crossing her arms.

Ren chuckled, pocketing the coin. "Well, someone has to keep things interesting."

Cynus sighed, already feeling the tension between them. Before he could say anything, Kael strode into the clearing, his expression as sharp as ever. He carried a heavy sack slung over one shoulder, which he dropped to the ground with a dull thud.

"Good. You're all here," Kael said, his tone brisk. His gaze swept over the trio, lingering on Ren for a moment before moving on. "Today's lesson isn't about power. It's about pain—and what you do with it."

Ren raised an eyebrow. "Sounds cheery."

Kael ignored him, opening the sack and pulling out a bundle of wooden training swords. He tossed one to each of them before grabbing one for himself.

"Pair up," Kael ordered.

Cynus turned to Lyric, but Kael shook his head. "Not you two. You're with me, Cynus. Ren, you're with Lyric."

Ren groaned, twirling his sword lazily. "Great. Babysitting duty again."

Lyric's eyes narrowed, and a gust of wind whipped around her. "Say that again, thief."

Kael's voice cut through the rising tension like a blade. "Enough. Get to it."

Cynus vs. Kael

Cynus held his wooden sword awkwardly, already feeling outmatched. Kael stood across from him, his stance loose yet precise, the wooden blade in his hand seeming like an extension of his arm.

"Ready?" Kael asked, his tone calm.

"As I'll ever be," Cynus muttered, gripping the hilt tightly.

Kael moved first, his sword cutting through the air with startling speed. Cynus barely managed to block, the impact jarring his arms.

"Too stiff," Kael said, stepping back. "Loosen your grip. A weapon is an extension of your body, not a crutch."

Cynus adjusted his stance, trying to mimic Kael's fluid movements. When Kael attacked again, Cynus dodged to the side, swinging his sword in a counterstrike.

Kael parried effortlessly, his blade stopping inches from Cynus's ribs. "Better. But you're thinking too much. Trust your instincts."

The sparring continued, Kael's strikes growing faster and harder. Cynus stumbled several times, his muscles burning with effort, but he refused to back down. Each time he fell, he got back up, his determination blazing brighter than his exhaustion.

Finally, Kael stepped back, lowering his sword. "Enough."

Cynus collapsed to his knees, panting. "How… how was that?"

Kael studied him for a moment before nodding. "You've got fight in you. That's a good start. But fight alone won't be enough. You need discipline—and control."

Ren vs. Lyric

Meanwhile, Ren and Lyric faced off on the other side of the clearing. Ren leaned casually against his sword, his expression bored.

"Are we actually doing this, or should I just surrender now?" he asked, smirking.

Lyric's eyes narrowed. "You won't have to fake surrendering when I knock you flat."

Without warning, she lunged, her movements swift and precise. Ren barely managed to dodge, the wooden blade missing him by inches.

"Whoa, easy there," Ren said, stumbling back. "It's just practice."

"Then take it seriously," Lyric snapped, her voice sharp. She attacked again, her strikes relentless.

Ren dodged and weaved, his movements unorthodox but effective. He didn't fight like a trained swordsman—he fought like a survivor, using misdirection and quick reflexes to stay ahead of Lyric's blows.

"You're quick," Lyric admitted grudgingly, her strikes slowing. "But speed won't help if you can't fight back."

Ren grinned, spinning out of her reach. "Who says I can't?" He feinted to the left, then swung his sword in a wide arc, catching her off guard. The wooden blade stopped just short of her side.

Lyric's eyes widened, but her surprise quickly turned to determination. With a gust of wind, she knocked Ren off balance, sending him sprawling to the ground.

"Lesson one," Lyric said, standing over him. "Never let your guard down."

Ren groaned, staring up at the sky. "Noted."

As the sparring sessions ended, Kael gathered the group together. His gaze swept over them, his expression unreadable.

"Pain isn't just physical," Kael began. "It's a teacher. Every scar, every failure—it all shapes who you are. But it's not enough to endure pain. You have to learn from it, use it to grow stronger."

He stepped closer, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a jagged scar running along his forearm.

"This?" he said, his voice low. "This is what happens when you act without thinking. I got it in my first battle, when I thought raw power was enough. It wasn't. And it nearly cost me my life."

The group fell silent, Kael's words hanging heavily in the air.

"So remember this," Kael continued, his gaze hard. "Every mistake, every wound, is an opportunity. If you don't learn from it, you're just waiting for the next one."

Cynus nodded, his fists clenching. He thought of his own failures, of every moment he'd felt weak or outmatched.

"I'll learn," he said quietly.

Kael's lips twitched into a faint smirk. "Good. Now get some rest. Tomorrow, we push harder."