Eliron, the grandfather of Ailith, looked at Rick, a spark of expectation gleaming in his eyes, as he settled a firm hand on the shoulder of his granddaughter. "Rick, I have a request, if you would honor it," he said, his voice deep with years and tinged with a challenge. "It's been ages since I met someone who might match me in strength. Would you share a friendly duel with an old warrior?
But Grandfather, no!" Ailith's voice rose in alarm. She stopped, her eyes jumping to Rick, who sat there nodding respectfully in consideration of Eliron's request. She knew of the vast potential of the powers both possessed, and she didn't want that to clash.
Yet Rick gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Ailith, it's all right. It would be an honor to spar with your grandfather. I have gone too long without a true opponent, and he has already earned my respect.".
In just a few paces stepped back, Eliron leaned into a calm stance merging with the air around himself-a testament to his own mastery. The energy all around them shifted, for the courtyard itself seemed holding its breath. Rick, feeling a surge of elation, knew this someone would push him beyond levels he hadn't touched within lifetimes.
As Rick stood, the air charged, the ground vibrated subtly beneath them with a response to their combined auras. Ailith glanced between them, knowing that this was a moment they both sought-not out of rivalry, but out of mutual respect and a shared understanding of power.
Rick was acutely aware of the difference in their abilities. For all Eliron's might, Rick's was a different magnitude—a power to warp worlds and break realms if it was ever released without restraint. He had to be careful, not wanting to disrupt this balance, especially with Ailith watching, her gaze a mixture of concern and fascination.
As they stood before each other, Rick breathed deeply, quieting the ocean of power inside of him. He would need to carefully balance his own level to one with Eliron's, then hold back from his true strength, and let the elder warrior actually experience an exchange rather than an overwhelming show.
Eliron took a slide forward, an athleticism beyond his years allowing him to reach Rick as an unseen aura shrouds his fist, crackling in the air. Rick matches just the energy to take the impact and their fists collide together with a controlled smash: ground shakes beneath them; he checks himself but offers enough to match the powerful strike of Eliron's huge blow.
Rick watched Eliron closely, reading his moves, adjusting his strength as they exchanged blows. Each clash sent ripples of power through the air, controlled yet intense. Eliron's eyes glinted with approval as he recognized Rick's restraint, and his respect for Rick grew with each carefully measured response.
She stepped back, hands clasped together, feeling that Rick was holding himself very, very carefully. She realized that her grandfather had trained so long, for so many centuries, to get where he was, and here stood Rick, holding back oceans of power, matching the strength of Eliron like it was second nature.
Finally, after a last exchange, Rick stepped away graciously and ended the sparring match with a nod of respect. Eliron returned the gesture, panting hard but with a smile.
You bear a power that no one I have ever known does, Eliron admitted, a glint of wonder in his eyes. "Thank you, Rick, for holding back. I felt the weight of your true power, and I understand it well."
Rick nodded his head. "It was an honor, Elder Eliron. Power without control means little, and it was you who taught me more about balance today.".
With greater ease, Ailith moved toward them with a smile relieved and proud. As Rick stood there, the new bond of respect took shape between them—a bond made not only from strength but understanding restraint and respect.
Eliron's face dropped into a contemplative expression as he turned to Rick after a few moments of consideration. "Rick," he started, his voice calm, "would you pass your knowledge of Dragon Arts and Dark Arts on to Naeris and Ailith?
Rick's brow furrowed. He hadn't been expecting this request, but he knew Eliron's words were grounded in purpose, not just curiosity or ambition. Dragon Arts and Dark Arts were profound and ancient, formed over millennia in his countless lives. Passing them on wasn't as simple as teaching techniques—it meant entrusting them with legacies that held powerful responsibilities, and immense risks.
He looked at Ailith. Her eyes, so bright with courage and eagerness, met his, and on her side stood Naeris, whose respect for Rick was reflected in his unbroken stare. For the first time Rick realized what Eliron wanted-to make the ones he loved stronger, prepare them for hard struggles to live through a dangerous universe.
Are they prepared for such knowledge, Eliron?" Rick spoke with a calm voice full of caution.
Eliron nodded his head somberly. "They are ready to learn, to respect, to bear the burden that goes with such power," he said. "Both of them have trained in and out in the arts in our realm, but I know that what you possess could guide them to a point of mastery that will not only protect but also preserve their people."
Rick thought for a moment, letting the silence settle in. Then he nodded slowly. "If they're willing to commit themselves, to honor the restraint and discipline needed, I will teach them. But know—these arts hold incredible power, and to wield them without respect or control can destroy the user as surely as their enemy.".
Ailith and Naeris locked gazes with him. He knew precisely what his words meant, and he also knew she did. Ailith stepped forward and continued, "I take on this burden, Rick. And I'll respect what you leave behind to us.".
Rick nodded at both of them. "Tomorrow we begin, then. First off, I will teach you to control the very basic concepts of Dragon Arts-breath, essence, and balance. And once you demonstrate sufficient control, we can then advance into Dark Arts proper.".
Eliron, Ailith, and Naeris knew the burden of what Rick had promised to teach: that the knowledge he gave them would shape not only their futures but the futures of their people.
Rick looked at Eliron thoughtfully and then hesitated. "Eliron, do you know anything about the old Myrid arts?
Eliron's face shifted, and he slowly shook his head. "Not fully," he admitted. "The Myrid arts are rare and often kept closely guarded. But…" He paused as if weighing his words. "I do possess half of the Myrid arts—fragments passed down through those who once walked among them.".
Rick's interest piqued, with a tinge of irritation. Myrid arts were ancient, and he had never been able to fully understand them in his previous life. To know only half of them would be like peering through a fog at something magnificent just out of reach.
"Half?" Rick repeated, his eyes narrowing. "Then tell me, Eliron, what parts do you know?
Eliron hesitated, then nodded, understanding the depths of Rick's curiosity. "I have access to their foundational principles—enough to cultivate the base of their power. But their most elusive techniques—the ones that manipulate energy in ways that defy natural laws—I only know in theory. I never mastered them."
There developed, between them, a silence heavy with the potentiality and mystery of the Myrid arts. For Rick, half of this was worth everything but also reminded him of how much more the journey lay ahead of him.