The morning sun barely peeked over the horizon when the academy's new training schedule took effect. Students lined up at the training grounds, their faces a mix of anticipation and apprehension. The instructors, clad in their formal combat gear, carried stern expressions, silently setting the tone. Today wasn't about simple drills. Today, they would learn the difference between determination and discipline under pressure.
Tristar stretched his limbs, feeling the early-morning stiffness tug at his muscles. Axel stood beside him, a faint grin hinting at his excitement. "Looks like they're done going easy on us," Axel remarked, his eyes scanning the setup.
Rows of targets, weapons, and obstacle courses stretched across the field, each station designed to test different aspects of combat: agility, endurance, magical control, and strategy. Tristar tightened his grip on his sword, his mind racing through the instructions they'd been given.
Instructor Lynne stepped forward, her voice cutting through the quiet. "Today, each of you will push your limits. Your bodies, minds, and magic will be tested. We're not here to play a game, failure here means fail in this class." Her gaze was steady, challenging anyone who dared look away. "Begin!"
The students dispersed, each heading to their designated training stations. Tristar found himself in front of an obstacle course, crafted with narrow paths, jagged rocks, and uneven terrain. The objective was simple: make it across without falling or triggering one of the magical traps hidden along the way.
With a deep breath, Tristar took his first step, feeling the weight of the task ahead. The ground beneath him shifted unexpectedly, throwing him off balance. He caught himself, eyes darting to the next section where he could see faint glimmers of light—likely the traps Lynne had mentioned. Every inch demanded precision and awareness, and each step forward seemed to pull energy from his reserves.
He heard muffled grunts from other students who were struggling too, some barely dodging traps that erupted in bright bursts of light or freezing blasts of wind. He paused, taking a second to gauge his next move. The sensation of his muscles tiring, his heartbeat picking up, reminded him that here, mistakes were costly.
Finally, Tristar reached the end of the course, sweat dripping from his brow. But before he had a chance to catch his breath, another instructor called out. "Klarent, your turn, now!"
Tristar entered the sparring circle, his body aching from the obstacle course. Across from him stood Riko, his expression calm and focused. This time, their spar was no casual test of skill. It was an assessment, one where mistakes would mean a swift defeat.
They exchanged a nod, and the match began. Riko advanced first, his blade flashing as he aimed a quick strike at Tristar's shoulder. Tristar deflected it, bracing himself as he countered with a lunge, testing Rikodefenses. The two moved in a careful dance, each step and strike measured.
But as the spar continued, Tristar's exhaustion became evident. His reactions slowed, his movements growing less precise. Riko noticed, pressing his advantage, forcing Tristar to retreat with a series of quick, sharp strikes.
Tristar's mind raced, his body screaming for rest, but he pushed forward, driven by an internal resolve. He couldn't afford to fall behind. With a sudden surge of energy, he dodged to the side, aiming a precise strike toward Riko exposed flank. It was a risky move, one that left him open, but if it landed.
Riko blocked, his counter swift and decisive, his sword aimed at Tristar's shoulder. Tristar barely managed to deflect it, stumbling back. He could feel his exhaustion mounting, his breaths coming in short gasps.
The instructor called out. "Enough. Klarent, step back."
Tristar staggered slightly, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. He looked down at his sword, frustration simmering beneath the surface. He knew he was giving it his all, but he still felt that gap that elusive line he struggled to cross.
As he walked off, he caught a glimpse of Axel watching him from the sidelines, a thoughtful look in his eyes. Axel had witnessed the entire spar, and there was no mistaking the curiosity in his gaze. It seemed he'd picked up on something, though he didn't say a word.
Later, after the formal training sessions ended, Tristar stayed behind on the training grounds. The soreness from the day's exercises weighed on him, but he refused to leave. With each swing of his sword, he felt the same frustration, the same limit he couldn't seem to break past. His swings were wild, lacking the precision and strength he'd seen in the seniors.
"Still at it?"
Tristar turned to see Axel approaching, his grin gone, replaced by a more serious expression. Axel held his own sword loosely by his side as he stopped a few feet away, studying Tristar with an unreadable look.
"You're wearing yourself out," Axel commented, though his tone held no judgment.
Tristar nodded, gripping his sword tightly. "I know. But if I don't, I'll just… fall behind."
Axel chuckled softly. "You're not the only one worried about that, Klarent. We're all here for the same reason. And sometimes, pushing alone not gonna make you anywhere." He stepped into the sparring circle, raising his sword. "Come on. Let's see what you've got left."
Without another word, Axel advanced, his strikes quick and sharp. Tristar barely managed to keep up, his reactions dulled by exhaustion. But Axel's attacks were relentless, forcing him to block, dodge, and move despite his fatigue. Each time Tristar stumbled, Axel's voice cut through the haze.
"Focus. Don't hesitate."
With each strike, Tristar's mind cleared a little more, his focus narrowing to the rhythm of the spar. He found himself reacting on instinct, moving with a newfound precision that surprised him. For a brief moment, he caught a glimpse of something, a sensation he couldn't quite describe, but one that made his movements feel smoother, almost effortless.
Then, with a final swing, Axel landed a decisive blow, sending Tristar stumbling back. The spar ended, both boys breathing hard as they lowered their swords.
Axel grinned, clapping him on the back. "See? You've got it in you. You just need to trust yourself a bit more."
Tristar managed a tired smile, feeling a flicker of confidence return. "Thanks, Axel."
As they walked back to the dorms, Tristar felt the weight of the day's training settle over him, but this time, it didn't feel as heavy. He'd faced his limits, pushed against them, and while he hadn't broken through entirely, he'd taken a step forward. Tomorrow, he just need to push even harder.