Chapter 4: Chapter two

Kane

The training grounds were always alive with energy, but today it felt different. There was an intensity in the air, the kind that settled under your skin and made your muscles tighten. The second-years were about to be paired with their mentors. As a senior Valdyr, I had seen this ritual countless times, watched the new recruits come and go, their hearts beating with nervous excitement as they awaited their mentors' approval. It never mattered to me before. I had never cared about the others—until today.

Fallon Draythar.

Her name had been whispered among the second-years, a legend in the making, or so they said. A prodigy, the one who had pushed herself to the front of the line. I'd seen her face in passing, but I hadn't paid much attention. I didn't care about potential. I cared about results, about how hard a person could push themselves, how far they were willing to go before breaking.

But something about her struck me differently.

When I had heard her name called, I hadn't expected the flicker of recognition in my chest. It was brief, almost imperceptible, but it was there. I couldn't pinpoint why, only that there was something about her presence that felt... different. Something raw, something untamed. Maybe it was the way she carried herself—strong, yet uncertain, as if she were holding something back. Or maybe it was the way she looked at me when our eyes met. There was an intensity there, one I couldn't ignore.

I stood silently as Master Kalor announced our pairings, watching her approach. Her golden-blonde hair shone in the morning light, and I caught a glimpse of those piercing ocean-blue eyes—the same eyes that had locked onto mine just moments before. They were filled with determination, but there was a depth to them, a vulnerability she hadn't yet learned to hide.

She wasn't the first to be paired with a mentor today, but when Master Kalor called her name, I knew it was her time. As the second-year students stepped forward to meet their fate, I found my focus narrowing solely on her.

"Fallon Draythar," Master Kalor had called out, and she stepped forward, walking with a confidence that betrayed the nerves hidden behind her sharp gaze.

The other students had shifted, whispering among themselves as they looked at her with a mix of admiration and envy. Some saw the same thing I did: potential. They knew what I knew, that she was the one to watch. But potential wasn't enough. Not for me.

When Fallon's name had been called, I'd noticed the slight hesitation in her step, the tightening of her shoulders. She wasn't afraid, no. She had that fire in her that I recognized, the same fire I had once carried, before the weight of expectations had crushed it out of me. No, she wasn't afraid. But she was aware of what this moment meant. She knew that this could define her.

And for some reason, I had to admit, I found myself wanting to see her succeed.

I had barely given her a second thought before this day. Now, though, as she approached me, there was a nagging curiosity at the back of my mind.

I had to remind myself that it didn't matter. She was just another mentee.

But when she stood before me, offering me a sharp nod and introducing herself as "honored" to be my pupil, I couldn't shake the feeling that she was going to be a problem. The kind of problem I didn't need.

I had no patience for the ones who came to prove themselves. Especially the ones with an inflated sense of self-worth. But as I looked at her again, I noticed something that made me pause—a certain kind of fire that wasn't arrogance.

She wasn't trying to impress me. She was just trying to survive.

I didn't say anything to that. My words, my usual biting remarks, were withheld for the moment. The first impression was important, and I wanted her to know exactly where she stood. "We'll see about that," was all I could muster, my voice colder than I intended.

It wasn't that I wanted to be cruel, but I had to break her. She had no idea what she was walking into. This wasn't going to be easy for her, not in the slightest.

My job was to push her to the breaking point.

There was something in her eyes when I gave her my first order to follow me. It wasn't fear—no, she wasn't the type to show fear. But there was something else, something softer. It made my chest tighten for a moment.

We walked in silence to the sparring ring, the sounds of the academy fading as my thoughts consumed me. She was quiet too, but I could feel her presence like a weight on my back.

"Your first test," I said once we reached the ring, my voice cutting through the air, "is simple. Control. Your mind, your body. Your movements. A warrior's true strength lies in the ability to control everything—your emotions, your instincts. That's where you'll fail if you aren't careful. We're not just killing machines. You'll learn to think and act as one."

She nodded, but I could tell she was already brimming with questions. She was probably thinking I was some cold bastard who didn't care about anything but making her sweat.

I was.

But there was more to it than that.

I had been where she was once. Young, eager, willing to push until I shattered. But nobody had warned me about the toll it would take. The weight of the responsibility. The constant battle to prove I was worthy of the name Valdyr. I had spent too many years fighting for the approval of others, until one day, I realized it didn't matter.

What mattered was surviving. Outlasting. Becoming the best.

I wasn't sure what kind of warrior Fallon would become. But I didn't care. Not yet.

She took her stance, and I noticed the fluidity of her movements, the precision in every breath. She was already better than most. The second-year students didn't know how lucky they were to have her in their midst. She had more than potential. She had something deeper.

I raised my sword, and she mirrored the action without hesitation. But this wasn't a friendly spar.

I wasn't here to let her win.

I attacked first, sharp and unrelenting, watching her as she parried and blocked with a grace that was almost too perfect. She was fast, but her movements lacked the kind of ferocity I had expected. It was controlled—too controlled. And that was her flaw. Control was important, but if you weren't willing to push yourself past your limits, you'd fall short. She had to understand that.

I came at her again, faster this time, my sword flashing through the air in a deadly arc. Fallon barely managed to parry, her sword trembling under the force of my strike. I could see the strain on her face, the determination flaring in her eyes, but still, she wasn't giving everything. She was holding back.

I stepped back and watched her for a moment. Her chest was rising and falling with quick breaths, but she wasn't faltering. There was a fire in her, something I hadn't expected, and it made me think. She wasn't afraid of me. But she was afraid of failing.

Good.

I wanted that fear. I wanted to see her break.

Her next move was sudden, reckless even, but it caught me off guard. Her sword came down in a swift motion, forcing me to step back. She had abandoned the controlled style I had expected and let her instincts take over.

For a moment, I almost felt a spark of respect.

That was the fire I had seen earlier.

"You're not holding back anymore," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, but it wasn't a question. It was a statement.

Her chest heaved as she met my gaze, her blue eyes alight with something I couldn't quite place. "I don't plan to," she said, her voice steady despite the strain in her body.

I didn't know what it was about her that made me feel this strange... connection. But something was happening here. Something I didn't want.

I shook it off.

This wasn't about me. This wasn't about her.

This was about the fight.

She was going to be a problem. A challenge. One that I wasn't ready for.

But I would break her. One way or another.

—

After the sparring match, we stood across from each other, sweat dripping down both of our faces. I hadn't expected her to last as long as she had. But there she was, still standing, chest heaving, sword held tightly in her hands. A part of me—against my better judgment—felt a sense of pride for her. It was fleeting, though.

I wasn't here to get attached. I wasn't here to make friends or be a mentor in the traditional sense. I was here to push her, to make sure she survived this brutal world of ours.

"Not bad," I said, though my tone was as cold as ever. I didn't know why I couldn't bring myself to praise her fully. It wasn't like me.

Fallon simply nodded, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Her eyes were still burning with intensity, but they softened ever so slightly. I could tell she was trying to understand me, to read the unreadable.

"You're strong," I added, begrudgingly. "But that's not enough. You'll need more than just strength. You'll need control, discipline, focus. I'll be pushing you harder than you've ever been pushed. And if you can't handle it, I'll walk away."

Her gaze never wavered as she looked back at me. "I can handle it," she said, her voice a little too confident, but it was enough to make me believe her.

I wasn't so sure. But for the first time, I felt a strange curiosity growing inside me.

What would she become?