The next morning, as the golden sun peeked through the clouds, Ronan made his way to Mr. Alden's training ground. The cool morning breeze carried the distant chatter of students, and the rhythmic clang of metal striking metal echoed from the practice field.
In the centre of the training ground, Orin was already hard at work, his sword cutting through the air with fluid precision. Despite the sweat dripping from his brow, he wore a look of determined focus. Upon noticing Ronan's arrival, Orin paused, his chest heaving from the exertion.
Ronan smiled warmly, his usual greeting at the ready.
"Good morning, Orin."
Orin returned the smile, a spark of excitement flickering in his eyes. "Good morning, Ronan." He wiped his forehead and sheathed his sword. "Perfect timing. I need a sparring partner. No magic, just swords. Up for it?"
Ronan's grin widened. "That's good. I've been wanting to test my skills too." He pulled his sword free from its sheath, the polished steel gleaming under the sunlight.
A small crowd of students began to gather, curious to witness the duel. Their murmurs grew with anticipation as a young man from the crowd climbed onto the stage to act as the referee.
"The rules are simple. No magic. Only swords. Understood?" The referee's voice was firm.
Both Ronan and Orin nodded in agreement, their eyes locked with mutual respect.
"Take out your weapons," the referee commanded.
With a swift motion, both fighters unsheathed their swords. The glinting steel gleamed beneath the sun's light, a reflection of their resolve.
"Begin!" The referee's voice rang out as he quickly stepped back.
Ronan and Orin lunged forward, their blades clashing in a shower of sparks. The metallic ring echoed through the training ground, drawing gasps from the watching students. Blow after blow, the swords met with relentless force, neither combatant giving an inch.
Orin's movements were swift and fluid, like a rushing stream, his sword dancing with finesse. Ronan countered with sheer strength, every swing of his blade sending vibrations through the air. Each clash forced both to recalibrate, their breaths growing heavier with every exchange.
"You've gotten faster," Orin remarked between strikes, his eyes gleaming with admiration.
"And you're more precise," Ronan replied, his grin unwavering.
The fight intensified. Ronan's powerful downward slashes were met by Orin's nimble deflections. Sparks flew as the edges of their swords scraped and collided. The crowd's cheers roared louder, but the two fighters heard nothing except the ringing of steel and the beating of their own hearts.
A bead of sweat rolled down Ronan's forehead, his breathing ragged. Orin, though visibly fatigued, refused to yield. Their determination mirrored each other's, pushing their limits further.
In the midst of the duel, Tavin and Andera arrived at the training ground. The sudden crowd drew their curiosity.
"What's going on?" Andera asked, scanning the gathering students.
Tavin squinted, spotting Ronan and Orin on the stage. "Looks like a duel. And from the way the crowd's reacting, it must be intense."
They moved closer, eager to watch. Moments later, Mr. Alden arrived, his hands clasped behind his back. His sharp gaze took in the fierce battle. Despite his stoic expression, a hint of pride gleamed in his eyes.
Back on the stage, Ronan launched a powerful strike. Orin narrowly blocked it, the force pushing him back a few steps. Yet, Orin spun on his heel and retaliated, his sword slashing in a precise arc. Ronan parried just in time, the force of the clash vibrating through his arms.
The tension reached its peak. The crowd stood in stunned silence, their eyes wide. Both fighters panted heavily, drenched in sweat. Yet neither backed down.
"Come on, Ronan!" someone shouted.
"You can do it, Orin!" another voice cheered.
Ronan's muscles burned, but he steadied his breath. His endurance proved his greatest advantage. Orin's movements grew sluggish, his exhaustion evident.
Seizing the moment, Ronan surged forward, his sword flashing with decisive force. Orin tried to block, but the impact sent his weapon flying from his hands. The clatter of the sword hitting the ground marked the end.
For a brief moment, the world stood still.
Then Orin, chest heaving, raised his trembling hands. "I… I admit defeat."
The crowd erupted into a thunderous cheer. Students hollered and clapped, their excitement echoing through the training ground. Ronan and Orin stood, gasping for air. Despite the loss, Orin's smile remained as wide as Ronan's.
"That was incredible," Orin panted, laughing. "You really pushed me."
"And you pushed me too," Ronan replied, his own laughter joining Orin's.
Mr. Alden approached, his eyes gleaming with approval. "Good morning, both of you. That was a good fight. You fought with determination and skill." He paused, his expression turning thoughtful. "But there were mistakes. Orin, your footwork was excellent, but your defence weakened when your stamina ran low. And Ronan, your strength gave you an edge, but your overreliance on power made you predictable. Balance is key."
Both Ronan and Orin nodded, absorbing the valuable advice. After a moment of catching their breath, they were joined by Tavin and Andera, who congratulated them enthusiastically.
"That was one hell of a duel," Andera said, shaking her head in awe.
"No kidding," Tavin added. "You both looked like you were fighting for your lives out there."
Ronan smiled. "It sure felt like it."
After a short rest, they resumed their daily training.
Later that night, Ronan sat cross-legged in his room, the world around him fading as he entered meditation. The nightmares that once plagued him seemed distant now. He had faced his fear, especially after his talk with Mr. Alden.
As his mind wandered, he found himself in the same mysterious room where the Silver Flame resided. Only this time, the once darkened chamber was bathed in radiant light. The Silver Flame, now faint and fragile, flickered beside his vibrant flame.
With a deep breath, Ronan reached out, guiding the flame toward himself. It merged with his own, the warmth embracing him like a familiar friend. The chamber cracked, then shattered like glass, sending shards of light spiralling into the void.
When the brilliance dimmed, Ronan stood on a vast circular platform. A colossal tree with green leaves towered above, its branches swaying gently in the breeze. An endless sea surrounded the platform, its surface calm and crystal clear. The moonlit sky, though beautiful, held no stars.