The forest was alive with the whisper of leaves and the distant calls of unseen creatures. Kael's feet moved silently over the soft moss, each step deliberate, each breath controlled. He was no longer the boy who had stumbled through the Archivum, barely holding the cursed sword against the mercenary. Every swing, every pivot, every stance had been practiced, repeated, until muscle memory etched it deep into his body.
Yet, even with all the training, the weight of failure still pressed on him. His fists clenched around the hilt of the sword as he remembered the mercenary's mocking words: "Next time, your little mage won't save you."
Elara walked beside him, her pace calm, yet her eyes constantly scanned their surroundings. She seemed to notice everything—the subtle shift of the wind, the faint snap of a twig underfoot, the rustle of leaves. Kael found himself stealing glances at her, his mind wandering to a thought that had lodged itself there like a stubborn thorn.
How… how can she be so smart? So wise? We're only fifteen, and yet she… she understands the world better than I do.
He shook his head, trying to dispel the thought. He was supposed to be the swordsman, the one wielding power, the one who carried the cursed sword. Yet here was Elara, navigating danger with grace, her mind sharper than his own in ways he didn't yet understand. He felt a strange mix of admiration and unease. Admiration, because her insight often saved them; unease, because it reminded him how inexperienced he truly was.
"Kael," she said softly, as if reading his mind, "you're thinking too much again. Don't let fear or frustration cloud your training. The mercenary will come, yes, but you need control first. You can't just let the sword guide you blindly."
Kael clenched his teeth, the cursed blade pulsing faintly at his hip. "I know. I just… I keep thinking about what happened. About her. About me." He hesitated, glancing at her. "You… you're amazing, Elara. I mean… you see things, understand things… how are you so… so wise?"
Elara blinked, surprised, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Wise? Me?" She laughed softly, a sound like wind through the leaves. "I guess… I've had to be. Life doesn't hand out kindness freely. You learn quickly or you… don't last. That's all."
Kael absorbed her words, feeling a pang in his chest. Her casual explanation, the way she carried herself so lightly despite the weight of the past she'd shared, left him unsettled. At times, he felt she had been alive far longer than fifteen years, tempered by fire and shadows far beyond his own experiences.
He swallowed hard. "You make it sound easy."
Elara shook her head. "I don't. I just… choose to smile, even when the world is cruel. You should try it sometime." Her eyes softened, and she nudged him gently with her elbow. "Grumpy boy syndrome doesn't suit you, Kael. Not at all."
Kael gritted his jaw but felt a warmth in his chest, a strange courage that made him stand a little taller. He turned his gaze back to the forest, scanning the shadows. The mercenary could be anywhere, lurking, waiting to toy with him again. He had to be ready.
Every day since the Archivum clash, Kael had forced himself to push past his limits. He moved through the forest like a shadow, practicing footwork, parries, strikes, and feints. The cursed sword whispered constantly, urging him to embrace its hunger, its dark energy. He resisted, but only slightly, allowing just enough guidance to refine his instincts.
You survived before. You can survive again. Let me teach you, Kael…
He flinched at the voice, shoving the thought deep down. "I will survive on my own. I will control this… weapon… and I will master it."
Hours passed. The sun began to dip toward the horizon, streaking the sky with crimson and gold. Kael and Elara set camp near a small stream. The water trickled softly, reflecting the colors of the sunset. Kael dipped his hands into it, washing sweat and grime from the day's practice.
"You know," Elara said quietly, "you're improving. Every day, your footwork is tighter, your strikes sharper. But don't let anger or fear dictate your growth. The mercenary is clever… he'll try to make you lose yourself."
Kael leaned back on his hands, staring at the sky. "I know. But… I feel different. Stronger. Even though I barely survived before, I… I feel like I could do it again. Maybe… maybe I could even win next time."
Elara tilted her head, her gaze thoughtful. "Kael… you already have something most swordsmen never understand: determination, and the courage to face the impossible. You just need to temper it with wisdom."
Kael's lips twitched into the faintest of smiles. "Wisdom, huh? Guess I still have a lot to learn." He glanced at her, and for a brief moment, the weight of the cursed sword felt lighter. "And you… how do you stay so composed? After everything… how do you stay… you?"
She shrugged, her smile soft but tinged with melancholy. "I survive. That's all. And maybe… maybe I trust you. That's rare for me."
Kael felt the strange flutter in his chest again. Trust? She trusts me?
The forest darkened further, and shadows lengthened. Kael's hands automatically rested on the hilt of his sword. Every nerve in his body was alert. He knew the mercenary was still out there, lurking, testing, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And Kael had to be ready—not just with the sword, but with his mind, his instincts, his resolve.
"Tomorrow," he whispered to himself, "I'll push further. I'll train harder. I'll learn… everything I can. And when he comes… he won't find a boy to toy with."
Elara nodded, settling beside him by the fire. "Good. And Kael?"
He looked at her.
"Don't let the cursed sword consume you. It can guide you… but it isn't you. Never forget that."
Kael swallowed, feeling a chill. "I won't. I'll use it… but I won't become it."
The night deepened, shadows weaving through the trees, wrapping the pair in a cocoon of quiet tension. Kael's mind raced with thoughts of the mercenary, of the cursed sword, and of the girl who had taught him the value of courage and wisdom in just a few short days.
He clenched the sword once more, feeling its pulse beneath his fingers. I will master you. I will survive. And I will protect her… no matter what it takes.
The wind whispered through the forest, carrying a faint, mocking echo: We'll see, Kael. We'll see how far you're willing to go.
Kael didn't flinch. He only tightened his grip, ready for whatever darkness awaited him.