Kael Draven's heart was straight-up pounding as he tore across Thornwick's lumpy soccer field, and honestly? The village crowd behind him was wild. I mean, you ever feel like everyone's rooting for you at once? That's where Kael was—ball at his feet, teammates watching like he was about to pull off magic. Not that they were wrong, really. Kid was only sixteen, already the absolute boss of the team.
He juked right past a defender (poor guy never saw it coming), snatched the ball, and sprinted for the goal like his shoes were on fire. The whole place erupted—kids yelling his name, parents losing their minds, Kael grinning like he just won the lottery. This was totally his moment.
He wound up for the kick, eyes locked on that net. And then—bam!—this weird tingly buzz zapped through his chest. The ball went all sparkly silver for a second as it shot into the goal. The crowd went bananas, but Kael just… kind of stood there, blinking. Did anyone else see that? His hands shook a little. The glow faded, but something inside woke up—like magic, but itchy.
"Dude! That was epic!" his buddy Taren yelled, running over. "You're totally gonna make Grand League, I swear!"
Kael tried to smile, but his stomach was doing backflips. That flash was not normal. He glanced at his mom, Elara, standing in the crowd. She looked totally freaked out. Great. The ref blew the whistle—game over, Thornwick wins!—and suddenly Kael's surrounded by high-fives and backslaps, but his mom's right there, grabbing his arm.
"We're heading home. Right now." Her voice was tight, no messing around.
Kael's stomach dropped. "What's up, Mom?"
"Not here," she said, eyes darting. They booked it home, leaving everyone else to party. Once inside, Elara locked the door, her hands shaking. "That light, Kael. It's dangerous. You've got Starweave—ancient magic. I do too. I tried to keep it a secret."
Wait… what? "Magic? You?" Kael just gaped.
"I was trying to protect you." Her eyes were all watery. "A scout's coming tomorrow—Gavric from Aurenfall. For Grand League tryouts. If anyone saw that glow…"
Kael clenched his fists. Grand League was his dream, his big shot. "I'm not stopping now," he said. "I worked my butt off for this."
She sighed. "Then you have to hide it, okay? Please?"
He nodded, heart still racing. Starweave. Cabal. His brain was a blender. He barely slept, just replayed that glowing shot over and over.
Morning came way too fast. Knock at the door. Elara opened it to reveal this tall, mysterious scout—Gavric, looking like he'd walked out of a fantasy novel. "Kael Draven?" he rumbled. "Saw your game. You're good. Ready for Aurenfall?"
Kael felt his heart leap. "Yeah!" He grabbed his old bag. Elara hugged him tight, slipped a tiny charm into his pocket. "Keep this close, sweetie," she whispered. "It'll protect you."
Trying not to tear up, Kael followed Gavric out, the village cheers fading behind them. The road stretched on forever. Kael's nerves were all over the place. "So, uh, what's Grand League like?" he asked.
Gavric grinned. "Big. Fast. The fields use Starweave magic—amps everybody up. You'll see."
Did Gavric know about Kael's magic? He didn't ask—just kept walking. His bag bounced on his back, the charm warm in his pocket, and that Starweave magic kind of tingled inside.
That night, they camped by the road. Gavric kept an eye out—seriously, the dude never relaxed. "You're quiet," he said, poking the fire. "Something on your mind?"
Kael shrugged. "Just… nervous, I guess."
Gavric nodded. "Good. Stay sharp. Grand League's not just about soccer—it's a battle. Not everyone's your pal."
That was… comforting, ha. Kael stared at the fire, thinking of his mom's scared face. Why was she so afraid? The night was quiet, too quiet, then—crunch. Something moved out there. Kael jumped, gripping his little knife. "Did you hear that?" he whispered.
Gavric was up in a flash, knife ready. "Get down," he ordered. Dark shapes slipped out of the shadows. One stepped into the firelight, silver eyes gleaming. Kael's blood ran cold. Was this the cabal?
"Draven," the figure called, voice all sharp. "We know what you are."
Kael's heart was beating out of his chest. He stood, knife trembling, as Gavric charged one of the attackers, sword flashing. The guy dodged, another one closed in, eyes like silver coins. "Starborn," they hissed. "Your power belongs to us."
Kael saw red. Starborn? Fine. He kicked a rock and, swear to god, it glowed—nailed one of the creeps right in the chest. Gavric was fighting like a beast. "Run, Kael!" he yelled.
So Kael ran—bag bouncing, magic humming, not looking back even once.
They ran after him, boots pounding the ground—honestly, it sounded like a herd of angry cows, not gonna lie. Kael dove behind a tree, heart doing its best drum solo. Gavric finally caught up, wheezing so loud Kael thought he might pass out. "Think we ditched 'em. For now," he managed, shooting Kael a look. "But dude, what was that glowy thing you just did?"
Kael swallowed—felt like his throat was stuffed with cotton. "No clue," he lied, his mom's voice echoing in his brain: Hide it. Don't let anyone see.
Gavric's eyes got all serious, like he was about to pull out some ancient wisdom. "C'mon, don't play games. That was Starweave. Means you're special, sure, but it also means trouble wants to find you."
Suddenly Kael felt like the world was closing in on him. "Who were those guys?"
"The cabal," Gavric said, like it explained everything. "They're after Starweave magic. Keep that glow on the down low, or you're toast, kid."
Kael just nodded, trying not to panic. They rode all night, the city of Aurenfall finally popping up with the sunrise. The place was nuts—vendors yelling, carts nearly running people over, total chaos. Kael just wanted to play football, not deal with magic and weirdos in cloaks.
Gavric led him to the Stadium of the Stormblades—this massive place, packed with players who looked like they ate nails for breakfast. Kael's stomach did a little flip, part nerves, part excitement. Still, that memory of those silver-eyed creeps wouldn't leave him alone. He gripped his mom's talisman, whispering, "Stick with me, okay?"
Right at the gate, this tall player with a cocky grin stepped up. "You the new kid?" he teased. "I'm Darius. Village boys like you usually don't make it."
Kael straightened up. "I'm Kael. Just watch me."
Darius laughed. "Sure thing, champ. Good luck."
Gavric gave Kael a friendly slap on the back. "Let's do this, kid. Ignore Darius. Tryouts are starting!"
Kael tried to breathe. The field vibrated under his sneakers, the Starweave buzzing inside him. He was ready—well, sort of. But as he glanced at the stands, he spotted a shadowy figure, silver eyes glowing. Watching him.
Chills, man. The cabal already found him.