"Hahaha, let's see if you can beat me this time, Vasir!" Raveer grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Cocky brat, I'll show you this time!" Vasir retorted, clenching his fists in determination.
The fight began with Raveer, full of spirit and energy, charging towards Vasir like a whirlwind. His red hair flew behind him, and his crimson pupils gleamed with excitement. He was fast—unnaturally fast for a boy his age.
Without hesitation, Raveer aimed a powerful punch at Vasir, who quickly crossed his arms to brace for the impact. The moment their fists collided, the shockwave sent Vasir tumbling backward. But Raveer, quick on his feet, surged forward again, eager to capitalize on his advantage.
Vasir, anticipating the next blow, rolled to the side just in time to avoid the punch and immediately countered, aiming a kick at Raveer's ribs.
But Raveer, ever the instinctive brawler, blocked Vasir's attack with surprising precision. In a fluid motion, he caught Vasir's leg mid-air, using his powerful grip to hoist him off the ground and swing him to the side. Vasir crashed onto the floor, momentarily stunned.
"Haha, I should say that your instincts have gotten a lot better, Vasir. You move just like Spike—nimble and quick," Raveer laughed, clearly pleased with himself.
"Don't get too smug, it doesn't suit you," Vasir retorted, pushing himself up and rushing back into the fray.
The battle raged on, with Vasir trying to land a few blows on Raveer. Though he managed to tag Raveer once or twice, each hit seemed to drain him faster than it did Raveer, whose energy never seemed to wane. The more Vasir struggled, the more apparent it became—Raveer was built for this.
"His talent is so obvious!" Vasir muttered, pouting as he glanced at Raveer, whose unrestrained enthusiasm for the brawl seemed to fuel his every move.
Raveer was in his element, and it showed. He was like an animal, thriving in the chaos of combat, feeling the rush of adrenaline with each strike he landed. Meanwhile, Vasir's exhaustion began to catch up with him.
Tabatha, who had been observing the fight with a mix of pride and amusement, spoke up.
"Alright, enough of this nonsense," she said, tossing her walking stick aside and cracking her knuckles with a sly grin. "Time for you to go all out, Raveer."
"Bring it on, Ammi," Raveer said, now fully focused, his playful grin replaced by a more serious expression.
The tension in the air shifted immediately. Raveer charged without hesitation, but Tabatha was ready. With a fluid motion, she dodged Raveer's first few attacks, effortlessly ducking and parrying his punches with only one hand. Her movements were as graceful as they were precise, and despite Raveer's speed and power, she seemed to move in a world of her own, effortlessly evading him.
Raveer, growing more frustrated yet excited by the minute, continued his relentless assault. Each time he swung, Tabatha was already one step ahead, dodging or redirecting his attacks as if she were playing with him. Her eyes twinkled with a quiet, knowing amusement, but Raveer wasn't one to back down.
Finally, he gathered all his remaining energy and threw one final, all-out punch, aiming straight for her face. Just as his fist sailed through the air, Tabatha's eyes gleamed with a golden intensity. In the blink of an eye, she moved—faster than Raveer had anticipated—and delivered a slap to his cheek that sent him flying to the side, crashing into the ground with a thud.
Stars exploded in Raveer's vision as he lay on the floor, dazed and knocked out. Vasir, standing by and watching the scene unfold, couldn't help but let out a chuckle.
"Totally deserved it," he muttered, amused by the spectacle.
Tabatha had never used such an offensive strike on Raveer before. The fact that she had now was a sign of something significant—it meant that she finally saw him as a worthy opponent, someone who could challenge her.
"Aren't you a healer, Ammi? Just how strong are you?" Vasir asked, his eyes wide in disbelief.
Tabatha grinned proudly, flipping her loose gray hair behind her as she knelt down to heal Raveer. To her surprise, he was already stirring, shaking off the daze as he quickly regained his feet.
"Wanna go again?" Tabatha asked, her grin never fading.
Raveer, his eyes alight with determination and excitement, nodded without hesitation. "Bring it on!"
The two went at it again, Raveer attacking with renewed vigor, while Tabatha dodged and parried his strikes effortlessly. Vasir, watching intently from the sidelines, couldn't help but be impressed. He began to take mental notes, knowing that he would need to up his game if he ever wanted to stand a chance against Tabatha.
After a while, Raveer grew tired but was undeterred. He continued to spar with his "Ammi," who moved with an eerie calmness, her speed and skill unmatched. Eventually, Vasir joined in, and the trio began to spar together, working as one fluid unit.
Each day, Raveer and Vasir grew exponentially stronger, their skills sharpening as they fought side by side. Despite their differences—Vasir's affinity for magic and Raveer's raw physical power—they moved in perfect sync when they fought together. It wasn't just practice; it was the bond of their friendship, of a shared purpose. This synchronicity, Tabatha observed with a proud smile, was one of the greatest accomplishments of her training.
By the time the day's training ended, both boys were exhausted, their cheeks flushed from the intensity of the combat. Yet, there was no doubt that they had grown stronger—together.
The rest of the day unfolded in the usual rhythm: the boys helped Tabatha gather medicinal herbs, assisted in making potions, and prepared for the next day. Tabatha's business selling potions at the local market allowed them to live comfortably, and she was well-known for her ability to heal even the most severe injuries, a skill that made her invaluable in a village plagued by dangerous monsters.
Schwarzwald, the village they called home, was small but bustling. It sat at the edge of the Kingdom of Aurelia, a land known for its rich history and the legacy of its first king, Lorian Aurelia. The kingdom, founded on conquests and strengthened by its rulers' holy magic, was both a source of pride and fear for the villagers. Though life was peaceful enough in Schwarzwald, its proximity to the kingdom's borders made it a dangerous place to live. Dangerous monsters roamed the nearby woods, and bandits frequently harassed travelers.
Tabatha, ever cautious, had raised Vasir and Raveer with strict rules—never leave the village, never engage in unnecessary conflict, and always prioritize escape over confrontation. The boys had seen enough bloodshed and loss to understand the wisdom in her words. The village, despite its dangers, had a strong sense of community, and Tabatha's strict training ensured that they were always prepared for whatever might come.
Years passed in a peaceful routine, with the boys growing stronger each day. And then, one fateful morning, Vasir woke up with a smile so wide it could have split his face. Today was his 13th birthday—the day he would finally be able to undergo the Awakening Ceremony at the nearby church, the ritual that would allow him to tap into his magical potential and begin the journey to discovering his true talents. He couldn't wait.