The sun had barely risen when a cold splash of water shocked Lucas awake.
SPLASH!
The water hit Lucas like a slap from winter itself. He jolted upright, coughing and flailing, drenched from head to toe.
"What in the seven suns...!"
He blinked the water out of his eyes to see Mirna standing over him, holding a wooden bowl, arms crossed with zero remorse.
"Wake your lazy ass up," she said flatly. "It's time to train."
"Huh?!"
Lucas groaned and fell back on the straw mat. "This how you treat people you love? Cold water in their sleep?"
"You're lucky it's just water." Mirna replied tightly with no smile whatsoever on her face.
"You've gone mad."
"What happened to a nice gentle good morning?" he asked.
She threw a dry tunic at his face. "I've gone prepared, if you want gentle go live in a storybook. Get dressed boy."
He groaned, wiping water from his face as he slid out of bed.
"I'm still sore from yesterday you know".
Lucas said as he followed Mirna.
"Good. That means it's working".
[The Training Circle a few steps from there house]
Outside, the morning was crisp and quiet. A faint mist hung low across the fields, birds singing from somewhere beyond the trees. Lucas followed her to the edge of the woods, rubbing sleep from his face.
He paused as he saw a circle of stones, perfectly arranged. He'd never noticed it before.
"What is this place?"
"Training grounds," Mirna replied. "This land remembers. It's where I first practiced years ago… with someone who meant a lot to me."
Lucas didn't press. The look on her face made it clear the story wasn't ready to be told. She handed him a smooth river stone, flat and gray.
"You're going to float it," she said simply.
"Float it… how? Like magic float?"
She raised an eyebrow. "No, with sheer disappointment." She flicked his forehead. "Yes, magic. Channel your focus. Don't force it. Feel it. Let the stone respond to you."
Lucas frowned. "Why a stone?"
"Because it's honest. It doesn't move unless you make it." Lucas tries his first Attempt.
He knelt, holding the stone in his open palm. His brows furrowed. He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath but nothing.
He tried again. And again. Still nothing.
"I think it's broken or something" he mumbled.
"You think magic works like tapping a spoon on a pot?" Mirna asked, pacing. "It's not a trick. It's not something you do, it's who you are. But it won't obey chaos. You have to be calm."
"How am I supposed to stay calm with you barking at me?"
She spun to face him, serious now. "Because one day, it won't be me yelling at you. It'll be a man with a sword, or worse someone like you. And if your hands shake then, you won't have time to wish you had more practice."
Lucas looked down. The stone trembled but fell still. After over an hour, Lucas collapsed backward in the grass, huffing.
"This is pointless." he reached his breaking point.
"No. You're impatient," Mirna said. She didn't move from her spot. "You think just because magic runs in your blood, it'll leap out when you snap your fingers? That's not power, Lucas. That's arrogance." Lucas sat up. His voice was softer now, confused.
"Why are you being so... harsh? You've never treated me like this before."
Mirna didn't answer at first. She picked up a nearby stick and tossed it into the fire pit, watching it burn.
"Because I'm scared." That surprised him. Mirna never admitted fear.
"Scared of what?"
She looked at him, really looked at him in the eyes as she places her hands on his soft chin.
"Of losing you."
He frowned. "You're not going anywhere."
"I feel it, Lucas," she whispered. "Every day it grows stronger, this sense that time is running out. Maybe I'll live another year, maybe just another week. But this world… it doesn't pardon your kind. It chews up boys like you and spits out dust. And I won't always be here to pull you out."
Lucas didn't know what to say. The air between them hung heavy.
"I yell," she continued, "because if something ever happens to me, I need to know you'll stand on your own. I need to know you'll survive."
They looked each other in the eye untill the picture finally fades.
Later That Day. They sat under a shady tree, the sun warm above them. A simple lunch of roasted yam and dried tomatoes lay between them.
Lucas picked at his food.
"You keep saying the world doesn't forgive my kind," he said slowly. "But why? What did wizards ever do?"
Mirna exhaled deeply. "Some of them did terrible things. And some of them were blamed for things they never did. The King used that fear to justify his purge. He wanted their power. He still does."
Lucas stared at her. "So what am I supposed to do? Hide forever?"
"No," she said. "You're meant to learn. To master it. Then when the time comes… you'll choose what kind of wizard you want to be. What kind of man."
Lucas nodded slowly, absorbing it.
Then he smiled. "Still... you didn't have to throw water on me."
"Oh, I absolutely did." She smirked. "You sleep like a rock and snore like a dying goat."
"hahaha" they both laugh out loud and chuckle at the same time.
That evening, Lucas returned alone to the training circle. The moon hung low, casting soft light over the field. He held the stone again. Closed his eyes. This time, he didn't force it.
He thought of Mirna. Her strength. Her fear. Her love. The stone trembled… and rose. Just an inch But enough.
He gasped, then laughed.
"I did it! Mirna...!"
From inside the cottage, her voice called out sleepily:
"Took you long enough!"
He grinned, holding the floating pebble like a prize
[At the king's palace]
The torches in the royal court flickered as the heavy double doors creaked open. General Orlan Thorne another chief commander of the kings army, tall and broad shouldered with a scar across his jaw, stepped into the throne room and knelt before King Tharion.
The King sat upright, eyes tired, veins dark beneath them. He hadn't slept again.
"Rise, Orlan," he said, voice low and cold. "We have a task that can no longer wait."
Thorne stood, armor clinking softly. "Your command, my king?" The King leaned forward, gripping the edge of his throne.
"I want every male child in this kingdom brought to the palace."
Thorne blinked. "All of them?"
"Newborns. Toddlers. Teenagers. Even unborn if need be. Every single one."
"With respect, Your Majesty,
this will cause..."
"I don't care throne do it," the King cut in, eyes sharp as a dagger. "Tomorrow morning. No family shall deny us. Search every home, every hut, every hidden room. We will find him."
Thorne hesitated, then nodded once.
"As you wish."
The King sat back, shadows swallowing his face.
"Let them cry. Let them curse me. I will not lose my kingdom to a prophecy."