The wooden sword felt heavier than Kael expected.
It wasn't heavy in truth. It was just a simple practice blade, smoothed down by years of use, the edge rounded so no one would get hurt. Still, when Kael gripped it with both hands and lifted it, his arms tensed.
He stood in the open yard behind the orphanage, feet planted awkwardly, shoulders stiff.
Then he swung.
The motion was clumsy. The sword cut through the air and stopped too short, his balance off enough that he had to take a step forward to keep from stumbling.
A few kids nearby stopped what they were doing and looked over.
Some whispered.
Some frowned.
One boy shook his head. "Why's he even trying?"
Another muttered, "Poor guy."
Kael heard them. He always did. But he tightened his grip and swung again.
"Keep your elbows a little looser."
Anna's voice came from his side.
She stood a few steps away, holding her own wooden sword. Unlike Kael, she didn't look tense. She looked curious, like she was figuring something out just by standing there.
Kael adjusted his arms and tried again.
The swing was still bad, but a little better.
Sophia sat nearby on a low stone, legs tucked under her, watching quietly. Every time Kael finished a swing, she smiled and nodded, even when it wasn't good.
"You're improving," she said softly.
Kael let out a breath. "That was worse than the last one."
"But you didn't almost fall this time," Anna said. "That counts."
Kael chuckled. "I guess."
Not far away, Mike leaned against the fence with his usual group.
"Look at him," Mike said loudly. "Playing swords like it'll change anything."
One of the boys snorted. "He doesn't even have talent."
"Yeah," Mike said. "Swinging a stick won't fix that."
Kael ignored them and raised the sword again.
Anna's grip tightened on her own sword.
"Do you want help?" she asked Kael.
"Sure," he said. "If you know what you're doing."
"I don't," she replied. "But I want to try."
She stepped beside him, copying his stance at first. Then, without thinking too much, she swung.
The wooden sword moved cleanly through the air.
Not fast. Not flashy.
But smooth.
Anna blinked.
She swung again.
This time, her feet adjusted on their own. Her hands followed a natural path, the sword ending where it should.
Kael stared. "You're… good."
Anna frowned slightly. "I am?"
She swung again. And again.
Each movement felt easier than the last. Her shoulders relaxed. Her grip adjusted naturally, like her body already knew what to do.
The kids watching started murmuring.
"Did you see that?"
"She's way better than him."
"Isn't she level eight?"
"Yeah, but still…"
Kael felt a strange mix of feelings rise in his chest.
Pride came first.
*She's amazing,* he thought.
Then, quietly, jealousy followed.
It wasn't sharp or angry. Just a small sting.
Anna lowered the sword and looked at her hands. "It feels… right," she said, almost confused. "Like this is where I'm supposed to be."
Sophia smiled. "That's good, Anna."
Mike scoffed from the fence. "Of course she's good. She's level eight. He's nothing."
Anna turned sharply. "Shut up."
Mike raised a brow. "Why? I'm just saying the truth."
"The truth doesn't mean you have to be a jerk," she snapped.
The sister's voice cut in before Mike could reply. "Enough."
She stood a short distance away, hands folded, eyes calm but firm. Mike looked away, muttering under his breath.
Anna exhaled and turned back to Kael. "Sorry."
Kael shook his head. "It's fine."
He looked at her sword. "You should keep practicing."
Anna hesitated. "What about you?"
"I'll keep going too," Kael said. "Just… slower."
She nodded.
—
Days passed.
Every morning, Kael was in the yard with the wooden sword.
Every afternoon, Anna was there too.
At first, she practiced beside him. Then, without meaning to, she started pulling ahead. Her swings became cleaner. Her stance steadier. The sister began giving her small corrections, and Anna absorbed them quickly.
"She really is a prodigy," some of the older kids whispered.
"Level eight is scary."
Others watched with envy.
Kael watched with pride.
Anna started sparring with some of the boys her age and beat most of them. Not because she was stronger, but because she learned faster. She adapted. She listened.
Kael sparred too.
He lost every time.
Sometimes badly.
Mike made sure everyone noticed.
"Careful, Anna," Mike said one afternoon. "You might hurt him."
Anna ignored him and offered Kael her hand after knocking him down.
"You okay?" she asked.
Kael laughed as he took it. "Yeah. I deserved that."
Sophia clapped softly from the side.
She didn't train with the sword much. When she tried, her movements were stiff and uncertain. She didn't like the weight of it, or the way it pulled at her arms.
"I'm bad at this," she said one day, embarrassed.
The sister knelt beside her. "Not everyone needs a sword."
Sophia looked up. "Really?"
The sister smiled. "Come with me."
From that day on, Sophia spent her afternoons learning something else.
Basic magic.
Nothing advanced. Just simple things. Feeling energy. Letting it move. Shaping it.
Sophia learned fast.
Too fast.
Within days, she could create small lights, warm her hands, move objects no bigger than a pebble. The sister watched with quiet amazement.
"She's exceptional," the sister murmured once.
Sophia blushed every time someone praised her. "I'm just listening," she said shyly.
Kael watched her too.
She struggled with the sword, but magic came to her like breathing. Where Anna moved with confidence and strength, Sophia moved with focus and care.
Kael was proud.
And again, that small jealousy surfaced.
*They're amazing,* he thought. *And I'm…*
He cut the thought off.
*They're my friends.*
So he trained.
Morning. Afternoon. Night.
His hands blistered. His arms ached. Sometimes he fell asleep still gripping the wooden sword.
Mike never stopped mocking him.
"Still trying?"
"Don't you get tired of failing?"
"Maybe he thinks effort replaces talent."
Some kids laughed.
Others ignored him.
Only Anna, Sophia, and the sister stayed close.
"You don't have to push so hard," Sophia said one evening, worry in her eyes.
"I do," Kael replied.
Anna nodded. "If you want to get better, you have to."
Kael smiled at her. "Thanks."
As the days turned into weeks, Kael's swings became steadier.
Not good.
But steadier.
And he kept going.
No matter what anyone said.