The Bladeheart was a family of warriors, so it was to be expected. I knew how to make myself around a fight.
Currently, I stood on the large trimd pitch of grass behind the massive Bladeheart mansion. The winds were cold and fresh, billowing against the thick trees behind the walls surrounding the mansion.
With a silver sword in hand, I casually flexed my arms, my tiny muscles emphasized by the tight training suit I wore.
A distance away was Rita, in a black combat attire with the added bonus of a white track jacket worn over her top. She held a sword similar to mine. Neither too long nor too short—just a standard dieval sword.
Compared to my more lax stance, she carried with her a refined and ready stance.
"Five minutes..." she began, "that’s how long you usually last against ."
Five minutes seed like a lot of ti until I rembered—she doesn’t use aura during our sparring sessions.
I was allowed to use that mystical energy. It enhanced my fighting capabilities to new heights,enough that I could probably outrun a car if I tried hard enough.
"Today, you need to last seven minutes, and we’ll climb up until you can hold yourself against for at the very least ten minutes."
"Rita... I think you’re wasting your ti on ," I stated and began circling around her.
She imitated but went counter-clockwise as we began a standoff.
"A gem, no matter its value, is still a gem," she explained, leaving to sigh in dismay.
Calling a gem was an overstatent, but compared to most, I could be considered gifted. A silver grade in aura efficiency wasn’t bad, but by my family’s standards, I was trash.
Anything below gold to them was unworthy of the na Bladeheart.
If it hadn’t been for my father, who vouched for , I would probably have been disowned by now and banished to the planes of Ruins to hold the line against the demons.
"Let’s just get this over with!"
Family, legacy, strength—I’d grown to hate them. I wanted nothing more than to escape to the rural sides of the region for a normal life. But I... no, Alex had soone he swore to protect.
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The crisp air humd with tension, tousling Alex’s blonde hair. With a fierce glow in his deep blue eyes, he raised his blade, the tip angling toward his chest.
The sword, both familiar and heavy within his grip, sparked with a pale light that spread throughout his body and coated the child in layers of aura that both strengthened his body and increased his perception.
"Your control over aura is as impressive as always."
Complinting his efforts with her stance focused and ready, she launched herself at him.
"She’ll follow with a thrust... that’s always the opening."
As he predicted, Rita drew her blade back, its tip pointed forward and homing onto him like a projectile.
"Even with aura, parrying her more focused strikes can be disadvantageous for since it will break my guard. But dodging would leave vulnerable for a good second—just enough ti for her to switch her attack."
Rita, furrowing at his dull reaction, didn’t follow with a thrust as intended. Rather, she flicked her blade into her left lowered hand, then followed with an awkward sweeping arc in a direction far too difficult for him to react.
Alex, coming to his senses then, swiftly moved his blade to intercept her attack.
The clang of steel was sharp and clear. Alex’s reactive block, though delayed, had been sufficient. But the force behind her attack, even without aura, had shattered his small fra.
Alex staggered half a step back, his defensive form slightly chipped away.
"As expected... too strong! I can’t match her strength. I need agility."
He didn’t try to fight back but instead used the montum her blow carried, pivoting on his back foot and leaping back to create more space between them.
Rita was on him instantly, her expression one of calm focus.
She pressed the attack—a whirlwind of controlled, precise strikes: high, low, high again—each one forcing Alex to block, deflect and at worst dodge.
He was a blurry phantom, his mixed style serving him well for survival. He ducked under a swing that would have sliced his head, rolled backward to avoid a low sweep, and sprang back to his feet, his breath already coming in ragged pants.
A diagonal slash followed, one which the boy dodged by arching his back and watching as the clean cut ripped through the fabric of his shirt before ending right at his waist.
"Redirect!" he mused, pushing his blade underneath her’s before flowing alongside the sword and pushing it upwards in a circular motion.
Having succeeded in redirecting her attack, he created a vast opening to launch his own counterstrike.
His blade returning to a mid-guard stance, snapped forward, its tip aiming for Rita’s shoulder but...
"You were always better at using a sword."
Sothing fast and slender whipped underneath him and slamd into his jaw. The resulting impact was so powerful it created a shockwave that propelled him up into the air.
Alex, in a state of disarray, blinked as he looked down and found Rita’s knee pushed up.
"This isn’t a sword fight... it’s an endurance test."
Alex’s mind suddenly raced for a way out. The prominent pain in his jaw did not help, and before he knew it, he was falling—descending right into Rita’s range.
He paled, his lax expression twisting in pain and agony. He hated fighting. He didn’t want to because it hurt every ti he lost, and now he was going to do exactly that.
"I hate this life."
Right as his body was level with Rita’s height, her knee still held high coiled before springing forward like a whip that dug into his sides and slamd him deep into the ground.
His world twisted into waves of agony as he rolled around crying in pain... wishing this life would already end.
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