Kael stood in the middle of a scorched battlefield, ash swirling around him like snow. A lone figure moved through the smoke, a blur of shadow and flame, wielding Kurozan with an elegance that defied description. Every strike sang through the air, each step a dance of lethal purpose. The ground cracked beneath the sheer force of their blade, and Wraithborn fell like autumn leaves around them.
Kael couldn't move, couldn't breathe. It wasn't fear—it was awe. He realized, with growing clarity, that he was not watching a memory. He was inside one.
The figure turned toward him, their face obscured by a mask of cracked porcelain. When they spoke, their voice echoed with a thousand whispers.
"The path of the Soulborne is not walked. It is inherited. Learn, or be devoured."
Kael gasped awake.
His chest rose and fell in sharp rhythms as moonlight filtered through the window of his quarters. Sweat clung to his skin like a second shirt. Kurozan rested beside him, pulsing faintly with that now-familiar black and violet glow.
"What was that?" he muttered.
A low, almost imperceptible voice echoed in his mind. "Fragments... echoes. The blade remembers what the world has chosen to forget."
Kael sat up, eyes narrowing. "Tenebris Kenjutsu... you're trying to teach me, aren't you?"
Kurozan didn't reply. But the pulsing grew stronger.
---
By sunrise, Kael was already outside, training with Captain Zeff of House Caelum. The wind howled across the academy courtyard as if trying to join the lesson.
"Feel the current, not just around you," Zeff said, balancing midair like a feather in stasis, "but inside you. Wind isn't just motion—it's freedom. You can escape any blow if you learn to flow."
Kael tried to mimic him, Crest glowing faintly. A sudden updraft lifted him a few feet, and he stumbled in the air before tumbling back down. Zeff caught him effortlessly.
"You're thinking too hard, prodigy. Trust your instincts."
Later, in the southern garden arena, Captain Lira of House Glaciem took over.
Her training was the opposite of Zeff's. Clinical. Calculated.
"Water is discipline, Ryuu. Precision. It flows, but with purpose. Sync it with your breathing. Feel the resonance."
Kael mimicked her movement—a graceful whirl of his blade followed by a pulse of water energy rippling outward.
Lira nodded. "Better. But don't confuse fluidity with weakness. Control it, or it will consume you."
The two captains watched each other briefly, nodding with unspoken respect—or rivalry.
---
That afternoon, Kael returned to the rune workshop. The moment he stepped inside, Master Illovar let out an audible groan.
"Great. The firestarter returns. What do you want to explode this time?"
Kael ignored the jab, placing the prototype gauntlet on the central slab. Selai stood nearby, watching with calm curiosity.
"I integrated the elemental runes for Wind and Water, then tried harmonizing them with a Spirit catalyst like you suggested."
Illovar snorted. "You mean you tossed gasoline onto magic and hoped for a miracle."
Kael began inscribing the final stabilizer rune. As soon as the chalk line connected, the gauntlet pulsed. A surge of energy exploded outward in a shockwave of swirling air and vapor. Kael shielded his face, and when the dust settled, the gauntlet was cracked but intact.
Selai stepped forward. "You're close. But remember, Spirit magic requires harmony, not domination. These elements aren't tools—they're languages. Learn to speak them."
Kael sighed but nodded. He was learning. Slowly.
---
Evening brought him back to the sparring court where Senn waited, arms crossed and expression unreadable.
"You look tired," the older man said.
"Been training all day."
"Good. Then you won't hold back."
They drew their blades. For the first few moments, Kael kept pace, dodging and parrying with growing intuition. But then Senn shifted tactics—he began feinting, twisting intent to confuse.
Kael struggled, barely avoiding a fake overhead strike that transformed into a low slash.
"Don't watch my blade," Senn growled. "Read my body. My breath. My will."
The lesson clicked. Kael slowed his breathing, cleared his mind.
Senn lunged.
Kael moved sideways, not because he saw it—but because he felt it. His blade met Senn's in a perfect deflection.
The spar ended moments later, Senn's sword at Kael's throat, but the glint of pride in his eyes was unmistakable.
"You're learning," Senn said. "Faster than I expected."
Kael wiped sweat from his brow. "Because I have to."
---
That night, Kael sat cross-legged in his quarters, Kurozan resting on his lap. The blade shimmered faintly in the dim candlelight.
"The path awakens," a voice whispered again in his mind. "But to master the Tenebris is to abandon the light."
Kael closed his eyes, the echoes of battle and memory still dancing in his head.
"Then I'll make my own light in the dark," he said softly.
Outside, the moon gleamed over the Academy, casting silver shadows on the stone.
The path of the Soulborne had never been clearer.
---
To be continued...