The sun was barely visible over the mountains as Raze entered the sparring arena, a rough circle carved into the stone of the mountainside. The air was cold, the chill biting through his training clothes, but he welcomed it. This was the day he would prove himself—his first chance to measure his strength against the others, and to show them that he was not merely another initiate.
Several initiates were already gathered, watching him with silent judgment. Some whispered to each other, their eyes narrowing as they assessed him, while others looked on with thinly veiled disdain. Raze kept his expression blank, revealing nothing.
Jala stood at the center of the circle, her scarred face as unreadable as ever. She held a staff in one hand, tapping it lightly against the stone floor as she surveyed the initiates.
"Today, you'll be tested," she announced, her voice carrying through the cold morning air. "Each of you will face another initiate in single combat. These matches aren't just about strength; they're about control. The Veinborn who cannot master themselves will never master their Vein."
Her gaze swept over the group, pausing briefly on Raze. "The first match will be… Raze Drakan versus Liam Castor."
A figure stepped forward from the group, tall and broad-shouldered, with a look of disdain carved into his face. His Vein mark—a dark, earthy green—glowed faintly along his arm. Raze recognized it as the Stone Vein, known for its resilience and grounding power.
Liam sneered, sizing Raze up. "An Iron Vein, is it? I've heard your kind think you're indestructible. We'll see how long that arrogance lasts."
Raze didn't bother to respond. He stepped into the circle, his focus sharpening as he prepared himself, feeling the Iron Vein stir beneath his skin.
Jala raised her staff, signaling the beginning of the match. "Begin!"
Liam moved first, charging forward with surprising speed for his size, his fists wrapped in the hardened energy of the Stone Vein. He swung at Raze with a brutal, earth-shaking force, a strike that would have staggered most.
But Raze was not most.
He sidestepped the blow with a smooth, practiced motion, letting the Iron Vein strengthen his legs and core, keeping his movements sharp and controlled. Liam's fist crashed into the ground, sending a tremor through the stone, but Raze was already moving, stepping around him to deliver a swift strike to his side.
The impact jolted through Liam, who grunted, but quickly recovered, turning to face Raze with a look of irritation.
"Fast, aren't you?" he growled. "Let's see if you can keep that up."
He lunged again, this time feinting left before swinging from the right. Raze reacted instantly, the Iron Vein surging within him, reinforcing his body as he caught Liam's arm mid-swing and twisted, using the larger initiate's momentum against him. Liam stumbled, off-balance, and Raze took the opening to strike with a powerful, focused punch to his opponent's chest.
The blow landed with brutal efficiency, sending Liam sprawling backward, breathless. He hit the ground hard, the air knocked from his lungs, and for a moment, he lay still, gasping for breath.
Raze straightened, lowering his fists but keeping his guard up, his expression cold and unyielding. He wasn't here to gloat or show mercy. He was here to win.
Jala stepped forward, raising her staff to signal the end of the match. "Enough," she announced, her gaze flicking between them. "Raze is the victor."
The murmurs among the other initiates grew louder, and Raze could feel their eyes on him, some with interest, others with resentment. But he didn't care. They could watch, they could whisper. He had no interest in their approval.
Liam slowly pushed himself to his feet, his pride clearly stinging more than his injuries. He glared at Raze, his jaw clenched. "You got lucky, Drakan," he spat.
Raze met his gaze, unfazed. "Luck had nothing to do with it."
Liam's face twisted with fury, but before he could respond, Jala's voice cut through the tension. "That's enough. Return to your places, both of you."
Raze stepped back, slipping into the shadows at the edge of the circle as the next pair of initiates was called. He watched as they fought, analyzing their techniques, noting their strengths and weaknesses. Each sparring match was a lesson, a glimpse into the different Vein techniques, and he absorbed every detail.
By the time his second match was announced, he was ready.
This time, his opponent was a wiry girl with quick, darting movements and a Vein mark of flickering blue. The Storm Vein—known for its agility and speed, like a thunderbolt in human form. She circled him with a confident smirk, her steps light, her eyes sharp.
"Hope you're not too tired, Iron Vein," she taunted, her voice carrying a mocking edge.
Raze didn't respond, letting his silence speak for him. He planted his feet, feeling the Iron Vein anchor him, making his stance unshakable.
The girl darted forward, feinting left before darting right, her movements blindingly fast. Raze braced himself, allowing the Iron Vein's strength to fortify him as he deflected her first strike, then the second. Her fists crackled with energy, each punch landing with a force that would have staggered a lesser opponent, but Raze held firm, his focus unbreakable.
He waited, conserving his energy, watching her movements, until finally, he saw the opening he needed.
In one swift motion, he sidestepped her attack, letting the Iron Vein surge through him as he swung his arm in a brutal arc, catching her across the torso. The impact sent her sprawling, her body skidding across the stone floor.
She lay there for a moment, dazed, before slowly rising to her feet, a look of shock and anger on her face. Raze remained silent, watching her, his gaze cold and calculating.
Jala stepped forward once more, raising her staff. "Raze is the victor."
A murmur spread through the crowd, a mixture of respect, curiosity, and resentment. The other initiates were beginning to take notice, realizing that Raze was not just another recruit. He was something different—something dangerous.
Jala approached him, her expression unreadable. "You've proven yourself today, Raze," she said, her voice low. "But remember, strength alone won't be enough to survive here. There are those who will see your ambition as a threat."
Raze met her gaze, his voice steady. "Let them."
Jala's lips twitched, almost in approval, before she turned away, leaving him to the quiet murmurs of his peers.
As he walked away from the arena, he felt the weight of their eyes on him, the whispers that followed him. He was a stranger in their world, an outsider with no allies. But he didn't need their friendship or approval.
He had something far more powerful: the Iron Vein and the unyielding resolve to make his own path. And soon enough, they would all know just how far he was willing to go.