The peaceful cottage had become a place of growth, change, and quiet strength over the past four years. The once-small, fragile Asha was now a spirited and confident four-year-old, her wings fluttering with excitement as she explored the woods around the house. Eli, now 10, had grown taller, stronger, and more focused. His training had progressed rapidly, his water manipulation abilities honing under Rian's watchful eye.
Rian, now 23, stood perfectly still, his posture relaxed but his focus sharp. Two gleaming daggers rested in his hands, their blades reflecting the sunlight. His expression was unreadable, but there was a quiet intensity in his eyes. Across from him, Eli stood poised, his wooden sword gripped firmly in both hands. He was a little shorter than Rian, but the muscles in his frame spoke of the years of training he had endured. His gaze never wavered, locked onto Rian, his focus absolute.
The two didn't move a muscle. They simply stood, watching each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.
Behind them, Elara sat on a nearby stone, her legs crossed, with Asha resting comfortably in her lap. Asha's golden eyes were wide with curiosity as she looked from one to the other. Her tiny fingers clutched at Elara's tunic, but she said nothing, entranced by the silent standoff. Elara held Asha with a quiet calm, her gaze flicking between Eli and Rian, both of whom were as still as statues.
A bird chirped in the distance, breaking the silence in the clearing. The sound was simple, almost mundane, but it seemed to punctuate the stillness, the tension between the two combatants growing heavier by the second.
Then, without warning, Eli's body shifted slightly. His muscles coiled, and in the blink of an eye, he closed the gap between himself and Rian, his sword aimed to strike swiftly at Rian's side. The move was nearly too quick for the eye to follow, his speed honed through years of training.
But Rian was ready.
In an instant, Rian pivoted on his heel, his daggers flashing out to intercept the attack. With the sharp sound of wood against steel, he blocked Eli's strike, deflecting the blow effortlessly. Without missing a beat, Rian's right leg whipped around in a powerful roundhouse kick aimed directly for the side of Eli's head.
Eli's eyes widened, his instincts kicking in as he dropped low to the ground. His body moved with fluid precision, narrowly evading the kick, the momentum of the attack just grazing past his ear as he crouched in a low stance. His wooden sword shifted to a defensive position as he prepared for the next move.
Rian's daggers seemed to shimmer as he shifted into a more aggressive stance, his eyes narrowing. He flicked one dagger forward, aiming at Eli's chest with lightning speed. But Eli, anticipating the move, caught the blade with his sword, sliding it to the side and narrowly dodging the second dagger's strike, his heart pounding. The two seemed locked in a silent contest of wills—one constantly on the offensive, the other forever on the defensive.
Eli felt the pressure mounting with each exchange, his breathing shallow as the weight of the moment settled in. His hand tightened around the wooden hilt, and he had to think fast. The gap between him and Rian closed once again, but this time, Eli was more determined than before. Rian's focus was sharp, his movements calculating, but Eli knew he had to change the pace of the fight.
In the blink of an eye, Rian disappeared, melting into the shadows of the clearing with a practiced fluidity.
Rian moved so fast, the world around him seemed to blur, and in an instant, he reappeared beside Eli, one dagger raised to strike.
But Eli had already anticipated the move. As Rian reappeared, Eli acted on instinct.
With a sharp motion, Eli hurled his sword toward Rian. The blade flew through the air with precision, aimed straight at Rian's chest. At the same moment, Eli thrust his hand out, his fingers twitching in concentration. Water began to swirl around Rian's foot, freezing midair into jagged ice as Eli manipulated it with a powerful push of energy. The water solidified in an instant, locking Rian's foot in place.
Rian's eyes widened in surprise, his movements halting just before the sword could hit its mark. He tried to pull his foot free, but the ice was unyielding. His daggers twitched in his hands, but his movement was too restricted.
Meanwhile, Eli swiftly rose from his crouched position, using his water manipulation to slide across the ground with fluid motion, the chill from the ice making the air crackle around him. In a single motion, he caught the falling sword mid-air, his hand gripping the hilt with practiced ease.
Without a moment's hesitation, Eli closed the gap between himself and Rian, his sword raised for the final strike.
Rian's expression changed, a flicker of admiration mixed with a hint of respect. He was trapped, his foot frozen, his body tense and unwilling to move further.
"Well done," Rian mumbled under his breath, his voice low but filled with a hint of respect. Then, with a barely noticeable flicker of his wrist, he drew on his fire manipulation. The air around his foot shimmered as the heat from his power intensified. The ice began to crack, the jagged edges melting under the intense flame until, with a sudden burst, the ice shattered completely. Rian's foot was free.
Before Eli could react, Rian's gaze hardened, his smirk fading into a fierce determination. "But not well enough," he said, his voice sharp as he shifted his weight and launched himself forward.
In the blink of an eye, Rian closed the distance between them. His hand shot out in a powerful arc, and Eli's vision was filled with nothing but the speed of Rian's fist. It was a punch, fast and brutal, aimed directly at Eli's jaw.
Eli didn't have time to react—his body still recovering from the momentum of his earlier move. The impact was immediate. Rian's fist connected with Eli's jaw, sending a jolt of pain through his entire skull. Eli's head snapped back, and he stumbled, his grip on his sword loosening for a split second as the world around him swam.
For a moment, everything was a blur. His ears rang, and the taste of blood filled his mouth.
Rian's gaze narrowed, his body tensing with the intent to end the fight. His daggers flickered with fire, the flames dancing and crackling, and he charged forward with a renewed intensity. Every step seemed to echo with the promise of finality. His fiery blades gleamed like twin streaks of death as he closed in on Eli.
Eli, still dazed from the punch, struggled to regain his footing. The world swirled around him, but his training kicked in. Despite the ringing in his ears, his mind sharpened, and he focused on the one thing that had helped him survive every test: his water manipulation.
He raised his arms, and in a flash of fluidity, water surged from the ground, swirling around him in an intricate dance. The water encased his body, forming a rapidly expanding sphere. Eli's heart raced as he concentrated, pushing his power to its limit. The sphere grew in size, but he wasn't done yet. With a forceful motion, Eli condensed the water into four tightly packed layers, each one rippling with frozen ice as his energy surged. The air crackled with cold as the water rapidly froze, layer by layer, forming a crystalline barrier.
Rian's flames reached him in an instant. He swung his daggers in a blinding arc, his fire-enhanced blades slashing through the air toward Eli's protective sphere.
The first layer of ice shattered with a deafening crack as the fire met it head-on, Rian's daggers biting into the surface. Eli grimaced, but he focused harder. The second layer cracked and splintered, the heat of the flames pushing harder against his defense. But Eli's hands trembled with focus, forcing the water to freeze even faster.
Rian's daggers struck again, their fiery blaze intense enough to burn through the third layer of ice. A moment of pure heat and cold collided, sending a shockwave through the air that made the trees around them shake. But Eli's defense held strong.
The fourth and final layer of ice remained intact, undisturbed by the fire. Rian's daggers skittered across the surface, unable to break through the dense, frozen barrier.
Eli stood within the sphere, breathing heavily, his eyes locked onto Rian as he watched the fire die down in the face of the final layer. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but he didn't falter. His control over the water, his manipulation of the cold, had been enough to withstand Rian's onslaught.
Rian took a step back, eyes flickering with a mix of surprise and admiration.
Rian's eyes narrowed in focused determination as he saw the last layer of ice refuse to crack. The flames around his daggers flickered, and with a powerful surge of energy, he gathered fire into his fist, the flames surrounding it like a jagged aura of heat. He moved with purpose, his fist swinging towards the hardened ice, a final, decisive strike.
The punch connected with a deafening crack. The heat from Rian's fiery fist was immense, and the fourth layer of ice splintered under the intensity, shattering into pieces. But as the pieces scattered into the air, Rian's eyes widened in surprise. There was nothing there. No Eli.
The ground beneath the shattered ice had been disturbed—slightly uneven, with a subtle, telltale mark. Rian's breath caught, realization dawning. Eli had used his Earth manipulation to tunnel out.
Before Rian could react, the ground erupted beneath him. From below, Eli sprang forth like a shadow from the earth itself, his body twisting with the fluidity of a seasoned fighter. His eyes were sharp with the will to end the fight. His movements were swift, his wooden sword now replaced with hardened dirt encasing his foot, like armor forged from the earth itself.
In that instant, Rian anticipated the move and, with lightning speed, raised his fist to strike at Eli's exposed position. But Eli was already in motion. Their movements, like two forces of nature colliding, happened simultaneously.
As Rian's fiery fist shot toward Eli's face, Eli's stone-covered foot shot out in a devastating kick. The impact was instantaneous.
Rian's punch slammed into Eli's jaw with a brutal force, snapping his head back, but Eli's kick landed with a bone-shaking thud against Rian's face, sending him stumbling backward. Both fighters were struck with equal force, the power of their blows sending shockwaves through the air.
Rian's vision blurred from the hit, his body reeling. The force of the punch had him staggering, but the force of Eli's kick was enough to send him to his knees. Blood trickled from Rian's lip, his face a grimace of pain, as he clutched at his throbbing cheek. His body swayed, and he collapsed onto one knee, unable to stand, his fiery daggers now resting uselessly at his side.
Eli, too, was feeling the effects of the simultaneous blows. His head swam from the punch, his vision swimming in blackness. His legs gave out, and he dropped to the ground with a heavy thud, unconscious.
An hour later, the peaceful hum of the cottage seemed to fill the air, soft and reassuring. The sounds of nature from the forest beyond mingled with the crackling of a fire, creating a calm that contrasted sharply with the intensity of the battle just hours before.
Eli's eyes fluttered open, the world around him slowly coming into focus. His head throbbed, a dull ache that pulsed with every heartbeat. He winced and instinctively reached up to touch his jaw, feeling the tender spot where Rian's punch had landed. His thoughts were fuzzy, like a fog rolling through his mind, but then his gaze shifted.
Asha was sitting beside him on the couch, her golden eyes bright with curiosity. She had clearly been waiting for him to wake up. Her tiny hand was gently resting on his arm, her small fingers clasping his sleeve as if offering silent support. Her wings fluttered in excitement, the soft rustle of feathers almost like a gentle breeze. She looked up at him, her face lit up with a pure, innocent smile.
"Eli!" she chirped, her voice as light as a breeze. "You're awake!"
Eli smiled weakly, pushing himself up with a groan. The ache in his body reminded him of the brutal fight, but Asha's presence, her warmth, was a balm to his pain. He looked around, his gaze landing on Rian, who was seated nearby, his expression a mix of exhaustion and quiet contemplation. Despite the rough sparring session, there was no animosity—only the bond of training and respect.
"How long was I out?" Eli asked, his voice raspy.
"About an hour," Rian answered, not looking up from where he was tending to his daggers. "You took a good hit."
Eli chuckled softly, wincing as it caused a spike of pain in his jaw. "Guess that's what happens when you try to fight fire with ice and dirt."
Rian gave a short laugh, shaking his head. "You'll learn eventually. It's about balance, Eli. The ice... it's powerful, but it has its weaknesses. And dirt? Well, it's not always the most reliable."
Eli glanced down at Asha, who was still looking at him with that same eager curiosity.
"Thanks for sticking around, Asha," Eli said, ruffling her soft, downy feathers. "I don't know what I would've done without you."