The training yard smelled faintly of iron and dust, the wide stone floor marked with chalked circles where sparring pairs would eventually stand. Racks of wooden practice swords, staves, and dulled blades gleamed in the sunlight that streamed down from the glass-paned roof.
Alex stood near the weapons rack, shoulders squared and stance steady, his dark eyes scanning the first-years gathered around. Beside him, Riven leaned casually on a staff, smirking as if the whole yard were his stage, while Kael kept his hands folded behind his back, calm and unbothered. Saphira lingered close to Alex, alert and ready, while Edrin half-hid behind her, wide-eyed at the sheer scale of the yard.
A man entered, boots clicking in a brisk, deliberate rhythm. His presence cut through the murmur of students like a blade through silk.
"I am Professor Aeron Skye of the Dukedom of Skyrim," he declared, his voice carrying with a crisp clarity that reminded Alex of wind cutting through mountain peaks. "I possess Air Mana Affinity."
As he spoke, a faint current stirred across the yard, brushing hair and tugging at sleeves—controlled, subtle, deliberate.
"This is your first Weapons and Mana Synergy class," Aeron continued. "Magic alone will not save you. Steel alone will not win you wars. To survive, you must learn to merge both into one rhythm."
He lifted a wooden staff from the rack with the barest flick of his hand. It floated into his grip as though the air itself had obeyed. "Mana does not only unleash destruction—it steadies your stance, strengthens your strike, sharpens your reflexes. You will learn to channel it into your weapon. Today, you will begin."
The command was simple: "Choose."
Students hurried to the racks. Riven snatched a staff first, spinning it once with practiced flair. "Stylish enough for me," he muttered to Alex, who calmly selected a sword, letting the fire mana pulse along the blade, causing it to shimmer faintly.
Kael picked up a longsword, posture precise. Saphira hesitated for a brief moment before gripping a shorter blade, jaw set tight. Edrin looked uncertain, but at last reached for a spear, clutching it awkwardly.
"Anchor your mana into the weapon," Aeron instructed, striding between them. His sharp gaze lingered on each student. "Feel the flow, then steady it. A weapon amplified by mana should never shake. If it trembles, so will you."
Alex inhaled slowly, letting the fire pulse along the edge of his sword. The warmth of the blade grounded him, steadying his focus.
Riven grinned as dark mana rippled down his staff, shadow trailing like smoke before Aeron's sharp voice cut in: "Contain it, Havana. Air and Dark are natural opposites—if you let it run wild, it will consume your rhythm."
Around them, the yard filled with the sound of wood clashing and mana humming faintly. Some students found a balance quickly. Others stumbled, weapons shaking in their grasp.
By the end of the session, arms ached, brows dripped with sweat, and yet there was a shift in the atmosphere—each of them had tasted the strain of merging mana with steel.
As they left, Riven stretched lazily. "Well," he said with his usual grin, "if nothing else, at least I looked good doing it."
Alex only smiled, the heat of his mana still lingering in his palms, and allowed himself a brief glance at the setting sun, steady and unshaken.
Author's Note
"Next chapter: The Freshmen Welcome Party—a chance to see friendships, rivalries, and sparks fly."