A quiet countryside village lay at the southern edge of the kingdom of Myrria, where the sea stretched endlessly to the south, meeting the horizon in a soft, silver-blue line. To the north, lush green fields rolled gently, where animals grazed lazily under the afternoon sun. A few dozen settlements dotted the western side, forming the heart of the village proper. The peaceful atmosphere was a perfect reflection of village life, but today, the silence was interrupted by the rhythmic clashing of wooden swords.
In a small clearing, two brothers were engaged in a fierce sparring match. Zayn, the elder by a year, stood opposite his younger brother Kael. Though only fifteen, Zayn looked almost identical to Kael in both height and build. The only notable difference was their hair—Zayn's dark red, inherited from their father, and Kael's jet-black from their mother. Their hazel eyes, however, mirrored each other perfectly, gleaming with focus as their wooden swords clashed once more.
Zayn swung his sword in a wide arc, aiming for Kael's shoulder, but Kael was quick, blocking the strike with a grin. Zayn, competitive as always, taunted his little brother.
"You're slowing down, Kai. If you keep this up, I might actually get bored."
Kael, upbeat and never one to back down from a challenge, parried the next strike and smirked. "Slowing down? Please, Zayn. I'm just letting you tire yourself out."
Zayn chuckled and moved in closer, their swords clashing in rapid succession, neither gaining the upper hand. "Maybe you should just admit that I'm faster," Zayn teased, his red hair swaying with each movement.
Kael's hazel eyes flashed with determination as he lunged forward. "You're not as fast as you think, Zayn. I'm just waiting for the right moment to show you how it's done."
Their sparring picked up intensity as they exchanged quick blows, equally matched. The sound of wood meeting wood filled the air, underscored by their quick breaths and the occasional laugh or jibe. They were just getting into the flow of the fight when a firm voice broke through the commotion.
"Boys! Time to come home!" It was their father, calling them from the distance.
Zayn immediately lowered his sword and shot his brother a competitive grin. "Race you back?"
Kael's eyes widened, and before he could respond, Zayn had already taken off toward the house. "Hey! No fair!" Kael shouted, quickly sprinting after him.
Zayn arrived at the house with a burst of energy, grinning widely as he stopped just outside the door. "I win!" he declared, raising his arms in triumph.
Kael came in right behind him, out of breath but glaring playfully at his older brother. "You only won because you cheated!" he accused, crossing his arms. "You got a head start!"
Zayn smirked. "A win is a win, little brother. You should've been faster."
Before their argument could escalate, their mother stepped into the room, a gentle smile on her face and a sealed envelope in her hand. "Not everything has to be a competition, you two," she said warmly. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she looked at her sons, clearly used to their friendly bickering.
At that moment, their father, Cain Eldrion, entered the room. His tall frame filled the doorway, his presence calm and steady as always. "What's going on here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the sight of his sons still panting from their race.
Their mother held up the envelope and smiled. "I have good news," she said, her tone filled with excitement. "A letter came from the Myrrian School of Magic."
Zayn's eyes widened in disbelief. "What? No way!" he exclaimed, stepping forward eagerly.
A few months ago, both he had applied for a scholarship to the prestigious Myrrian School of Magic, the central place of learning in the kingdom. Located in the capital, it was a hub of knowledge where thousands of students perfected their craft. The idea of getting accepted had been a distant dream, but now, it seemed like it could become a reality.
Zayn could barely contain his excitement as his mother carefully opened the envelope. She unfolded the letter and read it aloud. "Congratulations, Zayn Eldrion. You have been selected to join the Myrrian School of Magic on a full scholarship."
Zayn's heart raced as she continued reading. "You are expected to report to the school in the next week. Enclosed is a map of the capital with instructions on how to get to the school."
Kael, leaning over to get a glimpse of the map, let out an impressed whistle. "Whoa, the capital looks huge!" he commented, his eyes wide with wonder.
The map showed all sorts of areas: the residential district, the adventurers' guild, the sprawling marketplace, and of course, the grand palace at the heart of the city.
Kael's excitement quickly turned to frustration, though, as he realized something. "No fair! I want to go too!" he protested, folding his arms.
Their father placed a reassuring hand on Kael's shoulder, his deep voice calm. "You know the rules, Kael. Only people 15 or older can attend the school."
Kael sighed, falling into a thoughtful silence. But before the disappointment could fully sink in, Zayn stepped forward and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Don't worry, Kai. You'll be joining me next year. We'll take on the capital together."
Kael glanced up at him, his competitive spirit rekindled. "You'd better be ready, Zayn. I'm going to catch up to you in no time."
"Yeah, sure thing," Zayn replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes at Kael's competitive banter. But before they could launch into another playful argument, their father cleared his throat, capturing Zayn's attention.
"Zayn, there's something I want you to have," he said, his voice steady and serious.
Zayn felt a flutter of nervousness. "What is it?" he asked, following his father outside the house. He wondered where they were headed, unsure of what to expect.
They walked across the yard and headed toward the shed, a place usually filled with farming tools and equipment. The shed was dimly lit, and Zayn's father shuffled around in the darkness for a moment, searching for something among the clutter.
After a few moments, he pulled out a long, straight sword, its hilt glinting faintly in the light. "Here it is," he said, handing it over to Zayn.
As Zayn grasped the sword, he was almost overwhelmed by its weight. He struggled to hold it upright. "This thing is heavy! How am I supposed to swing it?" he complained, his arms shaking slightly under the strain.
His father chuckled softly. "It was made to perfection by a master swordsmith. It'll become easier to use as you grow stronger."
Zayn, still adjusting to the weight, drew the blade from its sheath. His eyes widened as he examined the wickedly sharp edge of the sword, which shimmered a deep blue. "No way! Adamantite?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief.
"Indeed," his father replied, pride evident in his tone. Adamantite was one of the hardest and toughest metals in the world, known for its durability. A sword forged from such a material had to be incredibly valuable—worth at least a few gold coins, if not more.
Zayn felt a swell of gratitude. "Thank you, Dad! I promise I'll work extra hard in school. I won't let you down," he vowed, a newfound determination igniting within him.
A few days later, Zayn packed his belongings and prepared to leave home. He boarded a carriage bound for Azura, the next town over, where he could access the teleporter station to the capital. As the carriage rolled away from the familiar sights of his village, Zayn gazed out at the landscape passing by, excitement bubbling within him.
This was the beginning of his journey. He felt ready to embrace whatever challenges lay ahead, the weight of the adamantite sword a comforting reminder of his father's support and expectations. With each passing moment, he was one step closer to realizing his dreams at the Myrrian School of Magic.
Zayn stepped off the teleporter station, feeling a little dizzy but steadying himself quickly. Swinging his adventurer's bag over his shoulder, he secured his sword at his waist before walking out. The scene outside stunned him. The noise was overwhelming—horses pulling carriages clattered along the cobblestone streets, vendors shouted to sell their goods, and people moved in seemingly endless streams. He had never seen so many people in one place before.
Feeling a bit lost, Zayn pulled out the map of the capital from his bag, but as he stared at it, the crisscrossing streets made little sense to him. Unsure of where he was, he decided to walk aimlessly, hoping to find a quiet spot to get his bearings.
Passing by a few street vendors selling fruit, trinkets, and strange-smelling foods, he finally spotted a quiet alley. Thinking it might be a peaceful place to study his map, he turned into it without noticing the two men following him closely. The pair exchanged grins, clearly planning something as they tailed the inexperienced young traveler.
After a few moments in the alley, Zayn paused to finally take a closer look at the map. As he tried to make sense of it, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find two rough-looking men, each holding daggers that glinted menacingly in the dim light of the alley.
One of them, with a scar running down his cheek, sneered at Zayn. "You look new around here, kid. You know, there's a newcomer's tax in this city. You pay it, or...well, let's just say things can get rough."
Zayn frowned and shifted uneasily. "I don't believe you. I've never heard of any tax like that."
The thug's face darkened with anger at Zayn's defiance. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "You calling me a liar?" he spat, as his skin began to glow with a faint purple light. His dagger, too, became enveloped in the same eerie aura as he held it menacingly toward Zayn. "I'd hand over the coin if I were you, before things get ugly."
Before Zayn could react, the two thugs suddenly looked past him. A new figure had appeared at the entrance to the alley—a boy around Zayn's age, casually holding a piece of paper. The thugs exchanged grins that grew even wider.
"Well, well," one of them said with a chuckle, "two for the price of one." He swaggered toward the newcomer, his confidence growing.
"Whatcha reading there, buddy?" he asked, sneering as he approached the boy.
The boy glanced up from his paper, his expression calm. "It's a map of the city," he replied. "I'm lost."
The thug's grin twisted into something more predatory. "Well, I'll be happy to help—just hand over all your money and I'll show you around personally."
The boy shook his head. "I need that money. I'm not giving it to you."
At this, the thug's expression darkened, and he turned to his friend with an exasperated groan. "What are the chances, huh? Two complete morons in one day." They both laughed, but the humor quickly vanished as the thug facing the boy became serious.
His own magic flared to life, a violent red aura pulsing around him, casting an ominous glow on the alley walls. He raised his dagger toward the boy. "Last chance, hand over the money—or else."
The boy didn't flinch. He stood firm, staring back at the thug without fear.
Snarling in frustration, the thug swung his knife, aiming for the boy's chest. But instead of a clean hit, the thug's eyes went wide as a sharp clang echoed through the alley. His dagger had collided with something solid—another weapon. The boy had drawn his own, blocking the strike with ease.
"What?When did you—"the thug stammered but he couldn't finish before the boy landed a swift punch to his chest.The impact was immense, sending him flying backward with a dull thud as he crashed into the alley wall, groaning in pain.
Zayn barely had time to register what had happened when the second thug released him and charged at the boy, his dagger mow surrounded by an even denser, more sinister purple aura.His magic fully activated, he looked like he was ready to strike with deadly force.
But the mysterious boy didn't seem fazed.Instead, he calmly extended his hand towards the approaching thug.In an instant,his purple aura vanished completely, snuffed out as if it had never existed.The thug's eyes widened in shock, but before he could react, the boy moved again.In a blur of motion, he delivered another punch and knocked out the second thug too.
The alley fell silent as he bent down to pick up the map he had been reading moments ago.Zayn stared at him in shock, trying to piece together what just happened.He was sure he couldn't win against them, yet this boy effortlessly beat them.
He couldn't help but wonder who this guy was.