The training yard was alive with noise. Students stood in pairs, weapons in hand, testing grips and footwork. The air buzzed with chatter as everyone compared the weapons they had forged from the beast cores.
Kael walked in with Feyla at his side, trying to ignore the sideways stares. The memory of him being carried out of the cave still clung to the others. To them, he had looked like a corpse in Jorin's arms, and whispers followed him wherever he went.
"Look who decided to crawl back," Bren muttered loudly enough for half the class to hear. His new weapon — a short, broad-bladed sword with a heavy hilt — gleamed in the sunlight. "Try not to faint before sparring this time."
Kael kept his face steady, though inside he felt the urge to respond. Instead, he shifted his grip on the dagger he had forged. The weapon was plain at first glance, yet the weight in his hand felt familiar, almost comforting. Jorin's voice echoed in his head: Only we know the truth of what you hold. Keep it that way.
"Quiet down," Jorin's voice cut across the yard. The tall instructor strode to the center, lightning-etched eyes surveying the group. "Today you will spar with the weapons you created. It is one thing to swing them in the air — another to feel them clash against an opponent. Each of you must learn what your blade, staff, or spear can truly do."
Students shuffled into pairs. Bren immediately shouldered past another to face Kael. The look in his eyes left no room for argument.
Feyla leaned toward Kael. "Don't let him get to you. Just last until Jorin calls time."
Kael gave a faint nod.
The spar began with a clap from Jorin. Bren lunged forward, his sword arcing down. Kael barely slipped aside, the blade scraping against the dagger with a metallic ring. The force behind the strike rattled his arm, but Kael steadied his stance.
"Pathetic!" Bren sneered, pressing forward with a flurry of strikes. He was stronger, his weapon heavier, but Kael had something Bren didn't — Nathan's endless drills echoing in his muscles. He moved smoother than before, his dagger darting up to deflect blow after blow.
Bren snarled, frustrated by Kael's defense. He overextended with a wide swing, and for a breath Kael saw the opening. Instinct screamed at him to counter, to drive his blade into the gap — but he stopped himself, rolling back instead. To fight like Nathan had shown him would raise questions he couldn't answer.
The clash ended as Jorin raised a hand. "Enough." His sharp gaze lingered on Kael a moment longer than the others. "Good. You're learning not to break under pressure."
Kael exhaled, lowering his dagger. Bren spat on the ground, clearly unsatisfied, but he had no chance to retort before Jorin's voice carried again.
"You've forged your first weapons. You've clashed steel against one another. That is progress. But we remain on this beast planet for a reason." He let the silence stretch before continuing. "Tomorrow, we hunt again. This time, your target will be the red-scaled skybeast — a birdlike creature. On the ground, it is sluggish. In the air, it is fast enough to outpace most of you. Its core is still basic, but valuable. Before we return to the academy, you will create something from it."
A ripple of excitement ran through the group. Students murmured eagerly, speculating what sort of weapons a bird core might yield.
Kael stayed quiet, his thoughts elsewhere. Tomorrow meant another hunt, another chance for danger — and another step closer to the secret he carried bursting into the open.