Caelan descended the stone steps slowly, each step echoing through the silent colosseum-like arena. The training field at the center awaited him, illuminated only by the ethereal glow of distant torches.
His hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of his sword, the leather grip firm against his palm.
He could feel it—the weight of expectation pressing down on him.
"Good luck," Revan whispered, barely loud enough for anyone else to hear.
Caelan turned slightly, catching his younger brother's gaze, before offering a small, confident smirk.
"I've trained hard enough. I don't need luck."
Revan let out a slow breath, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. That unwavering confidence—that was what he admired most about his brother.
Caelan reached the center of the training field, where their father stood, waiting.
Cassius Vaelgrim—the Patriarch of House Vaelgrim.
The air around him felt heavier here, as if his very presence demanded absolute attention.
Cassius's voice rang loud and clear, cutting through the tense stillness of the colosseum.
"Tonight, Caelan Vaelgrim will prove himself before all of House Vaelgrim."
His onyx eyes, dark and unreadable, swept over the gathered spectators.
"He will show us that he is ready to stand as a true member of this house. That he is ready to embrace his path."
A pause.
"And I, Cassius Vaelgrim, as Patriarch of this house, will test his strength."
Caelan exhaled, steadying himself.
"Am I fighting you, Father?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
Cassius's lips curled into a knowing smile.
"No."
The response came simply, yet carried weight.
"You will fight the enemy that will always stand before you. The enemy that you will never stop fighting."
Caelan's brow furrowed slightly.
"What does he mean?"
"Are you ready?" Cassius asked.
Caelan didn't hesitate.
With a fluid motion, he drew his sword, his stance shifting into the Vaelgrim combat form—feet planted, body balanced, blade angled for precision.
His onyx eyes locked onto his father's.
"I'm always ready."
Cassius lifted his hand, his fingers engulfed in black fire, flickering like a living shadow.
With a single gesture, he cast his palm toward the far end of the training field—roughly two hundred meters away.
The ground quivered, heat rippling through the air as a swirling black inferno erupted, twisting into a tornado of searing flame.
The onlookers gasped softly, some shifting uneasily as the firestorm raged.
And then—it vanished.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Where the fire had once been, a figure now stood.
A perfect silhouette of Caelan.
Except—it wasn't him.
Its form was cloaked in absolute darkness, like a void given shape.
And its eyes—unnatural, glowing with a piercing violet light—stared straight into Caelan's own.
Black flames engulfed Cassius, and in an instant, he vanished—reappearing on the grand seat beside his wife. The only thing left behind was the Ethera lantern, still glowing faintly.
As the lantern touched the ground, the shadowed figure of Caelan lunged forward.
It moved with unnatural speed, its violet eyes glowing eerily, its blade flashing as it rushed into the attack.
Caelan remained composed, weaving through the relentless flurry of strikes.
"Precise. Unforgiving. Just like my own."
The shadow moved with perfect technique, mirroring Caelan's combat style with frightening accuracy.
Then—a powerful overhead slash.
Caelan drew his sword in one swift motion, steel meeting steel with a resounding clash.
The force of the impact sent vibrations up his arm, the air between them rippling from their combined Etherea.
Locked in the struggle, Caelan's eyes narrowed.
"This thing isn't just a copy. It's adapting."
He opened his left palm, conjuring a roaring sphere of black fire.
Without hesitation, he thrust it forward.
The fireball slammed into the shadow's chest, sending it flying backward.
But even as it was thrown through the air, the shadow's blade lashed out—
A black flame slash tore toward Caelan.
Caelan reacted instantly.
Etherea surged to his legs, his muscles coiling before he launched sideways, dodging just in time.
The flaming slash carved into the stone behind him, leaving scorched marks in its wake.
He didn't stop.
"Don't give it room to breathe."
Caelan closed the distance, his blade now wreathed in dark fire.
With a single fluid motion, he swung his sword, ready to cleave through his reflection.
At that exact moment, the shadow stabbed its blade into the ground.
A shockwave of fire exploded outward, forming a wall of black flames between them.
Caelan skidded to a halt.
His eyes flickered with intensity, scanning for an opening.
Then—he dashed sideways, circling the wall to strike from the flank.
His blade cut through the air, sending a wave of fire slashing forward.
It tore through the darkness—
—hitting nothing.
Caelan's instincts flared.
He snapped his gaze upward.
Above him—the shadow was already descending, its blade poised for a lethal strike.
"It baited me."
Caelan reacted without thinking.
He slammed his sword into the ground, carving a burning arc of black fire at his feet.
The flames erupted, forming a wall of fire that launched the shadow backward mid-air.
Its weapon was knocked loose, tumbling away in the opposite direction.
Caelan exhaled, his stance steady.
For the first time, the shadow was off balance.
"Now… it's my turn."
The audience watched in awe, their gazes locked onto the battle unfolding before them.
Caelan Vaelgrim—the eldest son of the main bloodline, the future of House Vaelgrim.
Everything about him aligned with their expectations.
"Big Brother Caelan is so fast!" Xander gasped, his onyx eyes wide with admiration.
Their mother chuckled softly, placing a gentle hand on Xander's head.
"If you train well, you can be just like him one day."
Xander beamed at the praise, his excitement brimming. But then, his gaze shifted—this time, to Revan.
"Why have I never seen you use black fire?"
Revan froze.
Xander's innocent curiosity hit deeper than it should have.
"Because I'm not an Etherean."
The words left Revan's lips before he could stop them, his voice carrying a hint of bitterness.
Xander tilted his head, confused.
"But… you're part of House Vaelgrim too, right? Teacher Durrand told me all noble houses have Ethereans. He said it's in our blood."
Revan's throat tightened.
"How do I explain this?"
His younger brother didn't mean harm—he was just a child, curious and unaware of the weight behind his words.
But to Revan, that question was a knife buried deep into an old wound.
He parted his lips, ready to answer—
"I'm not the only one who doesn't—"
"Focus on your brother, Xander. He is in the middle of his High Moon Trial."
Their father's voice cut through the conversation, final and absolute.
Xander frowned slightly, disappointed that his question had been left unanswered.
"Alright…" he mumbled, shifting his attention back to the battle, though his expression still held lingering curiosity.
Revan exhaled slowly, pushing down the storm of emotions that threatened to surface.
His eyes turned back toward the battlefield, but his mind was elsewhere—lost in unanswered questions, buried in unspoken pain.
"Why am I the only one?"
He clenched his fists.
Then—something shifted in the battle.
A barrage of black fireballs soared across the battlefield.
The shadowed figure threw them in rapid succession, each projectile burning through the air like streaks of void.
Caelan moved with precision, his body coated in Etherea, his movements like a shadow weaving through the storm.
He dodged, sidestepped, and leaped, each motion executed with calculated grace.
But then—the shadow thrust both hands to the ground.
A low rumble vibrated through the training field.
Dark flames coiled around the shadow's arms, crawling up its body like living tendrils.
Caelan's eyes locked onto the movement, his senses heightened.
Then—he saw it.
The way the shadow rooted itself in place, its stance firm, its focus shifting to gathering power rather than defense.
A brief opening.
"I got you."
