The morning is cool, the air touched with dew that clings to every leaf and stone. Lyraea hums beside me as we carry buckets of water from the well back to the Emberveil home. She moves with practiced ease, balancing hers on one hip while I grip mine with both hands, careful not to spill.
"You're getting better," she teases, a grin tugging at her lips. "Last week you nearly drowned half the garden with how much you spilled."
I roll my eyes, though a small smile betrays me. "I was adjusting. The bucket was heavier than I expected."
"Excuses," she sings, and darts ahead, copper hair glinting in the rising sun.
We set the buckets down near the herb patch where Serenya works, trimming leaves with quiet precision. She thanks us with a gentle nod, and Lyraea immediately bounds off toward the chicken pen. I pause, stretching the ache from my arms, when something catches my attention.
At the far edge of the yard, Kael kneels on the grass. His eyes are closed, hands resting loosely on his knees, his chest rising and falling with slow precision. But it's the air around him that stills me.
Each exhale is heavy, visible in the air as a faint shimmer of heat. With every breath he draws, the world seems to bend slightly, like the forest itself inhales and exhales with him. His scales catch the light faintly, emerald sparks tracing along his temples.
I know this.
Dragon's Breath.
The memory slams into me like a blow, my father's voice, the endless drills, the fire in my lungs as I struggled to match his rhythm. "Control the flow, Noah. Power is nothing without discipline. Your breath is your core, your anchor. Never forget it."
But I had forgotten.
The realization twists my stomach. In the chaos, in my grief, I had let it slip from me. My father's lessons, his gift, cast aside while I stumbled through self-pity.
I clench my fists. No more.
I step forward, each stride pulling me closer until Kael's eyes flicker open. He regards me with calm patience, as though he knew I would come.
"You've been watching," he says.
I bow my head slightly, not out of habit, but respect. "Yes. And I remembered something..., something important. My father trained me,... used to anyway. But I haven't been practicing. I'm, forgetting the things he taught me and that… that's not something I can forgive myself for."
Kael studies me, the firelight of his gaze sharp. "Why do you remember it now?"
"Because I saw you," I admit. "Because I realized if I keep letting myself drift, I'll lose more than my parents. I'll lose who I am." I lift my chin, forcing my voice steady. "I want to train again. Please teach me."
Silence stretches between us. The faint crackle of Kael's breath fades as he exhales one last time, letting the air still. Finally, he rises to his feet.
"You ask much for one so young," he says. "Training is not a game, Noah. It will break you down before it builds you up. And I will not waste my time if you falter."
"I won't falter," I reply quickly.
His lips twitch, not quite a smile, more an acknowledgment. "Then prove it."
He glances toward the chicken pen, where Lyraea is wrestling with a stubborn hen. "If you can best Lyraea in a duel, I will train you."
I blink, caught off guard. "Lyraea?"
At the sound of her name, she looks up, feathers stuck in her hair, eyes narrowing at us. "What about me?"
Kael gestures toward her with a tilt of his head. "Your friend believes himself ready for training. If he can defeat you, I will consider him worth training. "
Lyraea blinks, then bursts into laughter. "You want me to fight him? That's not fair!"
"Why not?" Kael asks evenly.
"Because I'll win too easily!" she declares, puffing her chest.
I arch a brow. "You sound awfully confident for someone who just lost to a chicken."
Her cheeks flush red as she swats feathers from her tunic. "That doesn't count!"
Kael raises a hand, silencing our bickering. "This isn't a joke. Lyraea, you know our forms, our discipline. Noah thinks he is ready to walk that path. Show him what it means."
For once, Lyraea grows quiet. She looks at me, her playful grin fading into something more serious. Then she nods. "Alright. If you're serious, I'll fight you."
My pulse quickens, but I meet her gaze without flinching. "I am."
The yard is cleared, Serenya watching from the porch with quiet curiosity. Kael stands between us, his presence heavy, like a mountain that cannot be moved.
"First lesson," he says, his voice steady. "Respect. You bow before you fight."
I bow. Lyraea bows back, though her eyes sparkle with mischief.
"Second lesson," Kael continues. "Control. Do not fight to harm, fight to learn. The duel ends when one yields."
Kael steps back "Begin."
The air between us felt charged. Lyraea stood across from me, a grin tugging at the corner of her lips, her coppery hair catching the light like a challenge all its own. Kael leaned against the fence post with his arms crossed, silent, watching.
"Ready?" Lyraea asked, bouncing lightly on her toes like this was just another game.
I swallowed the knot in my throat and nodded. "Don't hold back."
"Oh, I won't."
The words barely left her mouth before she lunged. Quick, too quick. Her boots barely touched the dirt as she closed the gap. I scrambled, pulling on my breath, trying to center it the way Father once taught me. My chest filled with heat, power curling at the edges of my limbs.
For a moment, I managed. I parried her strike with a sharp twist of my arm, sending her back a step. Pride swelled in me, reckless and bright. Maybe I could do this.
Then she smirked.
And the smirk was worse than any blow.
She darted left, then right, her movements fluid, faster than my eyes could follow. Each step forced me back, my balance unraveling. I tried to answer with my own strike, summoning Dragon's Breath in a burst of strength, but it sputtered halfway through, faltering like a dying flame.
"No....no, no, not now..." I muttered through gritted teeth, stumbling forward.
Lyraea took advantage instantly. A sweep to my legs, and suddenly I was staring at the sky, the wind knocked clean out of me.
I wheezed, trying to sit up, but she was already there, pinning my shoulder down with one hand, her teal eyes gleaming with unshakable confidence. "Got you."
"Do-over," I croaked.
She raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"I slipped. The ground's uneven." I gestured weakly at the perfectly flat dirt yard. "See? Totally unfair."
She snorted, trying, and failing, to stifle a laugh. "You slipped, huh? Not the part where your breath sputtered like a broken bellows?"
"Excuse me, it almost worked!" I shot back, sitting up and brushing dust from my tunic. "Almost."
"Almost doesn't win duels, Noah." She leaned in, smug. "But it does make great excuses."
Heat rose to my face. I looked away, muttering, "I was distracted."
Kael's shadow fell over us before I could dig myself deeper. His expression was unreadable, but the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth told me he'd heard everything.
"You lost," he said flatly.
I clenched my fists, biting back a retort. "I know."
"Good. Admit it." He glanced between us, his gaze settling on me. "You have one month, Noah. One month to best her. If you can't, then you're not ready for my training."
"One month?" I blurted, nearly choking on the words. "To beat her?"
Kael's scales caught the light as he turned away, already walking toward the house. "A month. No more."
And just like that, he was gone.
I sat there in stunned silence, dirt sticking to my back, pride thoroughly crushed. Lyraea leaned against the fence, arms folded, wearing the smuggest grin I'd ever seen.
"Well," she said, voice lilting with amusement, "looks like I'm your new benchmark."
"Benchmark? More like an unfair obstacle," I muttered, pulling my knees to my chest.
She giggled, flicking a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Oh, don't pout. It's kind of cute."
"I'm not pouting."
"Yes, you are."
I glared at her, but it only made her grin wider. "You should thank me, you know. I'm saving you from embarrassing yourself against Father."
I threw my hands up. "Oh, thank you, gracious Lyraea, for completely humiliating me in record time."
"You're welcome," she said sweetly, before turning toward the house. "Come on. You'll need rest if you want even the tiniest chance of keeping up tomorrow."
She disappeared inside, laughter trailing behind her.
I remained in the yard, staring at the dirt where I'd fallen. My chest still burned, not from the fight, but from the sting of losing so badly.
"One month," I muttered under my breath.
The words tasted bitter. But beneath the frustration, a fire stirred.
"One month. I'll beat her."
The night air was quiet, save for the faint crackle of the hearth inside. Alone under the sky, I clenched my fists, determination simmering beneath the bruised pride.
Not forever.
End of Chapter.