Kael slumped onto the stone bench at the edge of the training room, sweat dripping from his face and pooling at his feet. His arms ached, his mana reserves felt dangerously low, and his head throbbed from the intensity of the exercises. The room around him was still alive with faint echoes of the paths—the golden warmth of the Healer, the electric blue of the Tempest, and the dark, endless pull of the Deep. Even though the room had returned to stillness, Kael could still feel the residue of each trial coursing through his body.
Darius stood across the room, perfectly composed despite the grueling pace of their session. His arms were crossed, his expression one of quiet appraisal, though there was a glint in his eyes that Kael could only describe as unsettling. It wasn't the cold, calculating gaze he was used to from his father—it was sharper, brighter. It was… excitement.
"You did well," Darius said, his voice steady but carrying that same strange energy. "Better than I expected for a first session."
Kael groaned softly as he rubbed his temples. "If this was just the first session, I'm not sure I want to know what you've got planned next."
Darius's lips quirked into the faintest hint of a smile. "Planned next? Oh, Kael, this was merely an introduction. Before the academy starts, we'll be training every day until the entrance exams."
Kael froze mid-motion, his aching muscles momentarily forgotten. He looked up at his father, narrowing his eyes. "Every day?"
Darius nodded, and there was no mistaking the edge of enthusiasm in his tone now. "Of course. You've proven you have the potential to achieve greatness. It would be a waste not to push you to your limits. By the time the entrance exam arrives, I want you to be sharper, stronger, and more attuned to the paths than anyone else in your cohort."
Kael's jaw tightened as he sat back against the cool stone wall. He wanted to argue, but he knew it was useless. His father's excitement only made it worse—Kael couldn't decide whether it was more irritating or unnerving. Darius was many things, but openly excited was rarely one of them.
"You almost sound like you're enjoying this," Kael muttered under his breath, wiping sweat from his brow.
Darius's sharp ears caught the comment, and he raised an eyebrow. "Enjoying it? Of course, I am. There are few things more gratifying than seeing potential realized." He turned away, heading toward the door. "Now, go clean yourself up. Dinner will be ready shortly."
Kael watched him leave, his father's boots echoing against the stone floor as he disappeared through the training hall's exit. For a moment, he sat in silence, his mind a whirlwind of frustration and determination. He didn't doubt his father's pride—it was there, albeit buried under layers of discipline and expectation. But the way Darius expressed it left Kael feeling more like a tool to be refined than a son to be encouraged.
"Every day," Kael muttered to himself, shaking his head as he pushed himself to his feet. His legs wobbled beneath him, and every step toward the exit felt like a battle in its own right. "He's going to kill me before I even get to the academy."
Still, despite his exhaustion and irritation, a flicker of something burned in his chest. Determination. If his father believed in him enough to demand this much, then maybe, just maybe, he could live up to the expectations being placed on him.
As he left the training room and made his way toward his room, Kael resolved to meet whatever challenges lay ahead. Even if his father's enthusiasm drove him mad in the process.
Kael stumbled into the washroom, the door clicking shut behind him as he leaned against the cool tile wall. His arms felt like lead, and his legs weren't much better after the hellish training session. He turned toward the enchanted basin, its faintly rippling surface shimmering under the glow of softly pulsing runes. Splashing cold water onto his face, he sighed and let the coolness bring him back to life.
"You look like you've been dragged through a whirlpool," came Nareia's voice, light and teasing.
Kael groaned, grabbing a towel to pat his face dry. "Feels about right. That training session was brutal."
"Oh, please," she replied, her tone brimming with mock sympathy. "You'll be thanking me in no time. A little suffering builds resilience, Kael."
Kael smirked faintly as he leaned against the basin. "Funny how easy that is for you to say, considering you didn't just spend hours getting tossed around."
"Well, someone has to keep their composure," she shot back, clearly amused. "And, to be fair, you didn't do too badly. I'd say today was productive."
Kael chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Let's just hope I survive the rest of this 'productive' week."
"You'll manage," Nareia replied. "But first, maybe focus on getting cleaned up. You're not exactly dinner-ready."
Kael sighed, knowing she was right. After a quick bath to wash off the grime and exhaustion of training, he dressed in a clean tunic and trousers, taking a moment to glance at his reflection in the mirror. The silver flecks in his eyes shimmered faintly, a quiet reminder of what was coursing through him.
"Not bad," Nareia said suddenly, breaking the silence. "You clean up well."
Kael rolled his eyes as he reached for his boots. "Glad to have your approval."
"As you should be," she quipped. "Now, let's get moving. Dinner's waiting, and your father's not exactly known for his patience."
Kael stretched his arms before heading for the door. "You know, for someone who doesn't eat, you're awfully invested in me making it to dinner on time."
"Call it a sense of responsibility," she replied. "Plus, I enjoy watching you squirm when your father starts lecturing.
"Yea, yea," Kael muttered with a smirk as he stepped into the hallway, her teasing words lingering in his mind.