Chapter 23 CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
AERIS
Day three of intense training.
The past few days had been nothing but blood, sweat, and bruises…hurs of spellwork, elemental drills, and sparring rotations that pushed every bone in my body to the brink. My magic was still as unstable as ever, flickering and sputtering when I needed it most, roaring too loudly when I needed it quiet.
The training grounds felt colder as usual,like the past few days just more intense
Not the kind of cold that seeped into your bones…more like the prickling hush before a storm. Recruits milled around in loose clusters, shoulders tight, whispers sharp and nervous. Today wasn’t supposed to be ceremonial or easy. Everyone knew that much.
Captain Neris stepped into the center of the field, and the noise died instantly.
“Stay in formation!” he bellowed.
He never yelled. Not like that.
Normally he was composed, sharp, controlled. But today—
something was off. His jaw kept clenching, his magic flickered around his hands, and his eyes scanned the treeline like he expected something to leap out
Rhea leaned close to me as we arranged ourselves. “I swear his voice alone could make a mountain flinch.”
“Be quiet before he hears you,” I whispered.
“Too late,” she whispered back, eyes wide as he paced toward our line.
He stopped in front of us, gaze cool and unwavering.
“Today,” Neris began, “you will not be tested on spells. Magic can deceive you. Talent can carry you. But discipline—” he lifted a hand, and one of the senior wardens stepped forward, arms filled with gleaming weapons. “discipline requires proof.”
A murmur rippled through the recruits.
“Weapons training?” someone muttered behind me.
Neris lifted a slender, silver-edged staff from the warden’s arms. “These are practice-grade. You will not be harmed unless you are careless. If you are careless, you’ve failed already.”
He turned to us.
“Collect a weapon. Any one. And hold it until I say otherwise.”
Rhea hissed, “This man hates us.”
“No,” I muttered, “he just wants us alive.”
“Those things aren’t mutually exclusive.”
We stepped forward when our row was called. My fingers brushed over blades I didn’t understand, hilts that felt too heavy, grips that seemed to promise bruises. I paused at a staff—sleek, simple, balanced.
Not graceful. Not threatening.
Just… manageable.
I lifted it.
It hummed faintly with defensive wards.
The weight didn’t feel as terrifying as I’d imagined. Not light, but not impossible either. I held it in both hands, adjusting my grip the way Neris had drilled into me during the personal training (which I still take everyday after rather normal regular sessions)
Hands firm. Elbows soft. Shoulders relaxed. Center your balance.
His voice echoed in the back of my mind, steady and sure.
Maybe that was why the staff didn’t tremble in my hands.
I stepped back into formation.
Neris’s gaze swept the rows.
“Hold it correctly,” he said. “Most of you are gripping it like you’re afraid it will bite.”
He stopped beside a boy whose sword was practically dragging in the dirt. With one sharp movement, Neris tilted the blade up with the toe of his boot, making the boy stumble to keep his hold.
“Pathetic,” he said. “Try again.”
Rhea raised her weapon…something resembling a hybrid between a club and a very angry stick and whispered, “Aeris, if I accidentally knock myself out, promise me you’ll avenge me.”
“No,” I whispered. “Because Neris will avenge you first.”
“...fair.”
The captain returned to the front.
“Your first task is simple,” he said. “Strike. One target. Repeatedly. Until your arms remember what your mind does not.”
Wardens walked through the lines, rolling out thick wooden posts marked with scuffs and cuts.
Training poles.
Neris tapped the nearest one with his fingers.
“Hit this. Hard. With purpose. Without losing your stance.”
He stepped back. “Begin.”
The field erupted with uneven thuds, clacks, and panicked cries of—
“Ow!”
“Sht—my wrist!”
“Why is this thing so heavy?!”
I exhaled and faced my post.
The staff felt heavier now, like it was waiting to judge me.
I lifted it, set my stance, and swung.
The impact vibrated up my arms. Not painful—just surprising.
I swung again. The second hit was steadier.
Third strike. Fourth. Fifth.
With each one, a strange rhythm settled into my bones.
Grip tighter. Arms loose. Feet grounded. Breathe.
I adjusted automatically, remembering the way Neris corrected my posture…how he’d nudged my elbow up, tilted my wrist a little, lowered my shoulders.
His methods weren’t gentle.
But they worked.
For the first time, the staff didn’t feel like a foreign object.
It felt like something I might be able to learn.
Rhea, three posts away, grunted every time she swung. “Aeris! Why is my target judging me? It looks like it’s judging me!”
“It’s a wooden pole,” I said, breathless. “It can’t judge you.”
“It CAN, and it IS.”
A shadow fell across me.
Neris.
I almost dropped the staff.
He watched me silently, expression unreadable. His eyes flicked from my grip to my stance to the marks I’d made on the post,clean, consistent.
“Adequate,” he said.
I blinked. “Adequate?”
“It means acceptable.” He turned away. “Don’t get complacent.”
Rhea hissed, “Did he just compliment you?!”
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” she said.
“He didn’t.”
“He did. You’re special now. Don’t forget us little people.”
I rolled my eyes, but a small smile tugged at my lips.
We kept going,strike after strike, breath after breath until the steady rhythm of wood meeting wood filled the entire training ground. The sun climbed higher, heat gathering on my neck, sweat slicking my palms. My arms ached, but in a strangely satisfying way.
Like I was earning something.
Rhea was still muttering insults at her training post.
Someone farther down the line cursed loudly.
Neris shouted corrections like a man determined to whip an entire generation into competence before sunset.
I exhaled, tightening my grip, lifting the staff again—
And then a shadow shifted behind me.
Rowan.
Before I even had time to fully turn, I heard the whisper of a blade cutting through air—
THWACK.
White-hot pain burst across my shoulder and upper back, knocking me forward so hard my vision blurred. My knees slammed into the ground, a shock shooting up my legs.
A few students gasped.
Rhea’s voice exploded somewhere to my left: “What the…Rowan!”