After a simple but satisfying midday meal in his quarters, Aeon made his way toward the Training Grounds behind the Guard Station. The walk took him through a different section of Millhaven than he had seen before, past residential areas where families tended small gardens and artisans worked at their crafts in open workshops.
The Training Grounds proved to be a large open space carved from what had once been a natural clearing, surrounded by tall oak trees that provided both shade and natural barriers. The area was roughly circular, perhaps fifty meters across, with packed earth that showed the scars of countless magical exercises. Wooden practice targets stood at various distances around the perimeter, some charred, others cracked, and a few that appeared to have been recently replaced.
At the center of the space stood a man who radiated physical presence even while perfectly still. Master Kellor was perhaps forty years old, with the build of someone who had spent decades combining physical training with magical practice. His shoulders were broad enough to fill out his simple brown tunic without strain, and his arms showed the kind of functional muscle that came from real work rather than mere exercise.
His face was weathered but not harsh, with intelligent gray eyes that seemed to catalog every detail of his surroundings simultaneously. Dark hair was cropped short in a military style, and a network of small scars on his hands and forearms suggested extensive experience with combat magic. When he moved, it was with the fluid economy of motion that marked a true professional.
Former soldier, Aeon judged immediately. Probably saw actual combat before becoming an instructor. The kind of person who understands that magical training can be the difference between life and death.
Around the edges of the clearing, roughly a dozen students had gathered in small groups, chatting quietly while they waited for the lesson to begin. Most appeared to be close to Aeon's age, though a few looked older—perhaps twelve or thirteen. Their clothing was practical and well-worn, suggesting they were accustomed to physical activity and potential magical mishaps.
A girl with bright red hair was practicing small flame conjurations, creating tiny dancing fires above her palm before extinguishing them with casual precision. Near her, a boy with dirt-stained clothes was causing small stones to orbit around his hands in complex patterns, his concentration evident in the furrow of his brow.
Two students stood apart from the others, working together to create small whirlwinds that picked up leaves and debris before dissipating them in controlled bursts. Their coordination suggested they had been training together for some time, probably friends who had awakened complementary wind attributes.
But it was the figure sitting alone on a fallen log at the far edge of the clearing that immediately caught Aeon's attention.
The boy from the council chamber.
Thomas looked even younger in daylight than he had in the shadowed Assembly Hall, clearly around nine years old despite the mature way he carried himself. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his clothes were of higher quality than those worn by the other students—not ostentatious, but well-tailored in a way that spoke to family resources.
What made him truly remarkable, however, was the tiny electrical discharge that occasionally flickered between his fingers as he sat in contemplative silence. Small sparks would appear and disappear without warning, accompanied by the faint smell of ozone that Aeon could detect even from across the clearing.
Lightning attribute, Aeon realized with growing interest. No wonder he was present for the council meeting. That must be incredibly rare.
The other students seemed to treat Thomas with a mixture of respect and wariness, keeping a polite distance while occasionally glancing in his direction. Whether this was due to his rare attribute, his status as future village chief, or simply the unpredictable nature of electrical magic, Aeon couldn't determine.
"Gather around, everyone," Master Kellor called, his voice carrying easily across the Training Grounds without seeming to strain. "We have a new student joining us today, so I'll be starting with fundamentals before we move on to practical exercises."
The students arranged themselves in a loose semicircle around their instructor, with Aeon taking a position where he could observe both Kellor and his fellow trainees. Thomas rose from his log and joined the group, positioning himself where he could see everyone while maintaining some distance from the others.
"For our newcomer's benefit," Kellor began, his gray eyes settling on Aeon briefly before addressing the entire group, "let's review what attributes actually are and how they function."
He gestured to the open space around them, his movement somehow conveying both authority and accessibility. "Every person in our world awakens their attribute at exactly ten years of age. This isn't a choice or a learned skill—it's a fundamental transformation that occurs when the soul reaches sufficient maturity to channel magical energy."
Soul-based magic, Aeon noted with fascination. Not just mental discipline or physical conditioning, but something tied to the essential nature of a person's being.
"Attributes are typically inherited from parents," Kellor continued, "though mutations do occur. A child of fire-wielders might awaken earth magic, or two earth users might produce a water specialist. The soul expresses what it needs, not necessarily what bloodline would predict."
Several students nodded along with explanations they had clearly heard before, but their attention remained focused on their instructor's words.
"The vast majority of people—approximately ninety-eight percent—awaken one of the four basic elemental attributes: fire, water, wind, or earth." Kellor gestured to various students as he spoke. "These elements form the foundation of our magical understanding and cover most practical applications of attribute power."
Ninety-eight percent, Aeon thought. That makes my infinity attribute even more unusual than I realized.
"However," Kellor said, his tone shifting to emphasize importance, "a rare few awaken attributes that fall outside these basic categories. Lightning, ice, metal, light, shadow—powers that represent specialized expressions of magical energy with unique properties and applications."
Thomas straightened slightly as lightning was mentioned, though his expression remained carefully neutral.
"Here in our current group," Kellor continued, "we have excellent representation of the basic elements. Sarah and Marcus work with fire, Elena and David channel water, our wind users are represented by Jenny and Carl, while earth finds expression through Robert and Lisa."
Each student acknowledged their introduction with small demonstrations—brief flames, water droplets, tiny whirlwinds, and floating pebbles that showcased their developing control.
"But we also have the privilege," Kellor said with unmistakable pride, "of training someone with one of the rare attributes. Thomas awakened lightning magic—a power that appears perhaps once in a generation, if we're fortunate."
All eyes turned to the dark-haired boy, who accepted the attention with the composed dignity that seemed to come naturally to him despite his young age. Tiny sparks continued to dance between his fingers, more visible now that everyone was watching.
"Thomas," Kellor said with the tone of someone making a request rather than giving an order, "would you be willing to provide a demonstration for our new student? Nothing elaborate—just enough to show what lightning magic looks like in practice."
Thomas nodded solemnly and rose to his feet, stepping forward into the center of the semicircle. His young face was serious as he extended one hand and began to concentrate.
This should be interesting, Aeon thought, watching intently as the future village chief prepared to showcase the rarest magical attribute he had encountered since awakening in this world.