Two months. That was the time I had left before the Academy's doors would open to me again. A part of me dreaded the idea of returning to the place that had been both a prison and a proving ground, a place where I had been molded into what I had become. But it was also a necessary step. I needed to understand my power, to hone my skills, and perhaps—if only to survive—I had to prove to everyone, including myself, that I wasn't just the villain the world thought I was.
Cassandra had been insistent. "You'll need to train," she said, her voice carrying both concern and determination. "You're not the same person you were six months ago, Caelum. You can't just walk back in there without being prepared."
She was right, of course. There was still so much I didn't understand. The power inside me, the ancient energy that seemed to pulse through my veins, was a mystery. I needed to unlock its potential, to tap into the strength that lay dormant. And the Academy was the perfect place to do that, even if the thought of returning to the suffocating halls and cold stares made my chest tighten.
I spent the first few days after my conversation with my mother buried in my thoughts, but Cassandra kept pushing me. She refused to let me wallow in uncertainty. So, I reluctantly agreed to start my training—something to prepare me for what awaited me. My body was still weak, recovering from the strange, disorienting period of absence. But it wouldn't be for long.
---
The training grounds were a quiet, isolated area just outside the manor—a sprawling courtyard surrounded by towering stone walls. The air was heavy with the scent of earth and old wood, the faint rustle of the wind brushing against the leaves of nearby trees. I stood there, feeling a strange combination of dread and anticipation.
Cassandra was already there, waiting for me. She wore a simple training outfit, her expression serious but encouraging. Her sharp eyes scanned me from head to toe, as though assessing my readiness. She didn't say anything at first, just walked over and handed me a wooden training sword.
"We'll start slow," she said, her voice carrying an air of authority that I hadn't heard before. "You need to get used to moving with a blade again, Caelum. You've been away from it for far too long."
I took the sword, its weight strange in my hands. The last time I had held a weapon, it had been Excalibur, the fabled sword that had called to me. But this? This was different. Wooden, crude, a far cry from the legendary weapon. Yet it still felt familiar, like an extension of myself, even in its humble form.
Cassandra stepped back, giving me space. "Start with the basics," she instructed. "Swing it around. Focus on your form, your stance. Don't think too much. Just feel it."
I raised the sword slowly, trying to find the rhythm. The movements came easier than I expected—fluid, almost instinctual—but something still felt off. It wasn't enough. The blade felt foreign, as though the instincts that should have guided me were clouded by the fog of the months I had lost.
Cassandra watched, her gaze unwavering. "You're too stiff," she said after a few moments. "You need to loosen up. Let your body flow with the motion, don't force it."
I exhaled, trying to relax, letting go of the tension that had crept into my muscles. Slowly, I began to swing the sword again, this time allowing my body to follow the natural rhythm of the movement. The wooden blade cut through the air with more grace this time, the motion less strained. It felt better—still not perfect, but better.
"Good," Cassandra said, her tone approving. "Now, let's try something else. Focus on your balance."
She moved behind me, offering gentle guidance. "Your feet need to stay grounded. Your center of gravity must remain steady. If you lose your balance, you lose control."
I adjusted my stance, shifting my weight slightly, focusing on the feel of the ground beneath my feet. Every movement seemed to require more effort than it should. It was as though my body was still not fully in sync with the new powers running through me. I didn't understand why, but it frustrated me.
Cassandra, sensing my frustration, stepped forward and placed a hand on my shoulder. "You're too hard on yourself," she said gently. "It's been a long time since you've had to train, Caelum. You're not going to be perfect right away. Take it one step at a time."
I nodded, though a part of me wanted to lash out at the inadequacy I felt. But Cassandra was right. I had to start somewhere.
---
The following weeks passed in a whirlwind of training sessions, each one more grueling than the last. Cassandra pushed me harder, challenging me in ways I hadn't expected. Some days, I felt as though I was drowning in my own inadequacy. The raw power that I felt inside me was still like a storm waiting to be unleashed, but I couldn't control it. Not yet. And the more I trained, the more I realized how much I had to learn.
One afternoon, after a particularly exhausting sparring session, I sat on the edge of the training grounds, my chest heaving as I wiped the sweat from my brow. Cassandra sat beside me, her expression thoughtful.
"You're getting better," she said, though there was a hint of concern in her voice. "But I can see it, Caelum. There's something blocking you. Something you're not facing."
I glanced at her, confused. "What do you mean?"
"You're holding yourself back," she said softly. "You're afraid to let go of control, to embrace the power inside you. I can see it in your movements, in your hesitation. You're afraid of what you'll become if you unlock that power. But you can't control it unless you let go."
Her words pierced through the fog in my mind. She was right. There was fear inside me—fear of the unknown, fear of becoming something I couldn't understand. I had been so focused on surviving, on proving that I wasn't the villain, that I had ignored the one thing I truly needed: to trust myself.
Cassandra stood, offering me a hand. "You're not alone in this. We'll do this together."
I looked at her hand, then back at her face. And for the first time since I had returned, I felt a spark of something. Maybe it was hope. Maybe it was just the desire to finally move forward. But I knew one thing for certain: I couldn't keep holding myself back.
I took her hand and rose to my feet, ready to face whatever came next.
---
The next morning, I returned to the training grounds with a new sense of resolve. My body still ached from the constant exertion, but the fog in my mind had started to lift. I would face my power. I would face whatever came my way at the Academy. And no matter what, I would no longer let fear control me.
The road ahead was long. But for the first time in a long while, I felt ready to walk it.
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