The clang of wooden weapons and the sharp crack of fists striking against training dummies echoed across the clan's courtyard. Morning mist still clung to the stones, but the training ground was already alive with movement. Rows of children stood in neat lines, clad in light battle gear, their faces carrying the mixture of nerves and determination that came with being heirs of a great clan.
Some children held their spears upright, backs straight as statues. Others were already drenched in sweat, struggling to maintain form as instructors barked corrections. Those with lesser standing busied themselves along the sidelines ,carrying buckets of water, sweeping the paths, or cleaning equipment. They were still part of the clan, but their bloodlines or talent placed them lower on the ladder. The difference was clear even to a ten-year-old.
Caelum joined the gathering with Elias and Seren at his side. His steps were a touch slower than theirs, though he carried himself with a quiet composure. His robes were plain, unmarked by family insignias or proud embellishments, and though his hair shone a silvery white in the sun, it only made him stand out all the more among the brown and gold hues of his kin.
He tried not to notice the sideways glances. The whispers never came loudly, but they carried—always carrying.
"...still only at second circulation?"
"...what kind of elf can't even sense the healing flow?"
"...must be defective."
"I'm sure when it's time he'll awaken some weak oath."
Caelum pretended not to hear, his lips tugging into the same soft smile he wore each day. His heart, however, was tight.
"Don't mind them," Elias muttered, clapping him on the shoulder. His spiky red hair caught the light, and his eyes burned with that same arrogant spark that made him look like he was challenging the whole world to a duel. "If anyone dares say it to your face, I'll knock their teeth out."
Caelum chuckled lightly, not answering. Elias meant well, but his temper would only cause more trouble.
Seren walked silently on his other side, his calm green eyes glancing over. There was no mockery there just quiet observation. He didn't speak, but his presence alone felt steadying.
The instructor's voice cut across the courtyard. "Pair off. Today we test your endurance. If you can't stand after five rounds, don't bother coming back tomorrow!"
Excited shouts rang out as children scrambled to find partners. Elias grabbed Seren by the sleeve instantly. "You're with me. Don't think I'll go easy this time."
Seren only sighed and shook his head. "You never win."
Caelum gave a small smile, ready to find another partner, but before he could move, an older girl stepped forward. She was perhaps twelve, already taller, her body lean and her stance proud. She spun her wooden sword with a flourish before pointing it at him.
"You. You'll do."
Caelum hesitated. Her name was Lyanna, daughter of one of the elders. Already in her fifth circulation, praised as one of the most promising among their generation.
He swallowed and nodded. "Alright."
They faced each other at the instructor's signal.
"Begin!"
Lyanna came at him with a sharp, fluid strike, her sword whistling through the air. Caelum raised his own to block, the impact jarring his arms. He staggered back, teeth clenched, but steadied himself. She didn't give him a moment to breathe, following with another swift strike, then another.
He defended, barely, but every blow pushed him further back. Her movements were relaxed, almost casual, like she wasn't even trying.
"Is this all you've got?" she asked, voice tinged with amusement. She pressed forward again, her strikes faster now. "You train every day, don't you? What are you even training for?"
Caelum gritted his teeth, forcing his aching arms to move. He tried to counter, lunging with his own strike, but she twisted easily aside and tapped his shoulder, scoring a clean point.
Laughter bubbled faintly from the sidelines.
"Get to work!" The instrucor barked at the young elfs.
Lyanna leaned close as she pressed him back once more, her voice dropping so only he could hear. "How will you save anyone like this?"
The words cut deeper than the wooden sword ever could. His heart lurched violently. She hadn't said it outright, but the shadow of his mother's pale face flashed in his mind.
And then....something inside him stirred.
The world tilted. His vision blurred at the edges, bleeding into crimson. He could hear her pulse, quick and strong, beneath her skin. His throat burned, not with pain, but with hunger. His grip on the sword trembled, not from weakness, but from the raw urge to drop it, to lunge, to rip into her flesh and taste what lay beneath.
His breathing grew shallow. Images he didn't want to see flooded his mind. Her face torn, blood steaming, meat torn from bone.
No.
He froze, heart hammering wildly. The scent of roasting meat from the mess hall earlier flickered through his thoughts, strange and sharp. He clung to it desperately. Food. Meat. He liked meat. That was enough.
The hunger receded, but the hesitation cost him. Lyanna's sword smacked against his ribs, then again at his leg, and finally knocked the weapon from his hand. He stumbled, falling to one knee.
"Point!" the instructor barked.
Lyanna stepped back, twirling her sword once more, smug but not cruel. "Better luck next time, Caelum."
The whispers rose louder now, snickers rolling across the watching children.
Caelum forced himself to stand. His smile returned, shaky but present, as though none of it mattered. Inside, his chest was still burning.
The round ended, and soon the training was dismissed. Children scattered, chattering about their matches, boasting of victories.
Elias bounded over immediately, his robe sticking with sweat. "That girl's just arrogant. Don't let her get to you. One day, you'll smash her so hard she won't know which way is up!"
Caelum laughed softly, though the sound lacked strength. "Maybe."
Seren joined them, quiet as always. His eyes lingered on Caelum's trembling hands, the faint pallor in his face. He didn't say anything, but the silence itself spoke volumes.
They found shade beneath a tree at the edge of the grounds, catching their breath. Elias, true to form, was already rambling about the Academy Selection. "Can you imagine? All three of us walking into Rimron together? They won't know what hit them!"
Caelum leaned back against the trunk, trying to let Elias's enthusiasm wash over him. "That would be nice."
Seren finally spoke, voice soft. "You're troubled."
Caelum stiffened. "I'm fine."
"Liar."
He glanced away quickly. "It's just… my cultivation. I'm still only at the second circulation. You two are so far ahead. I read the manuals again and again, but my body… it doesn't respond. What if I can't even qualify?"
Elias snorted. "Why are you repeating this nonsense? I told you , you'll wipe the floor with her face when we finally get to the Academy!"
Seren said nothing more, but the quiet way he studied Caelum made his chest tighten.
He forced another smile. "Thanks. Both of you."
The conversation drifted then, carried by Elias's endless energy. Seren humored him with dry remarks, and Caelum nodded along, grateful for the distraction.
But when the training bell rang and they rose to leave, Caelum lingered for just a moment. He touched the shallow cut on his arm where Lyanna's sword had struck. His fingers came away with a faint trace of blood.
He stared at it, the urge rising once more, faint but undeniable. The smell of iron, the taste of it on his tongue when he sucked at the wound, it made something deep within him shudder with want.
He clenched his fist, forcing the thought away.What the hell is wrong with me?