"Haarrgh!" I clash swords with my father, who had been training me just after a few days past my fifth birthday. The sound of our wooden swords' echoes through the air, the clash of wood on wood ringing out as we exchange blow for blow.
My father is in defense mode, his eyes fixed intently on me as he had instructed me to attack. I swing my sword with all my might, the wooden blade biting through the air with a soft whoosh.
My father parries each blow with ease, his movements fluid and practiced. He shifts his weight onto his back foot, his sword arm extending in a smooth, controlled motion.
I strike again and again, my movements becoming more confident with each passing moment.
My father blocks each attack, his sword meeting mine with a resounding thud.
As the fight continues, I start to feel a surge of excitement and determination. I jump into the air, my feet leaving the ground for a brief moment, and strike down with my wooden sword.
My father, anticipating the attack, raises his sword to meet mine.
The two blades clash, the force of the impact sending shockwaves through my arm. I crouch down, gasping for breath, my chest heaving with exertion.
"Okay, that's enough for now, my little warrior is exhausted," my mother says, her voice warm and gentle as she approaches us.
My father nods in agreement, lowering his sword and turning to my mother. "Fine," he replies, his voice low and smooth. He turns to me, a broad smile spreading across his face.
"You sure learn things quickly, don't you, Aries?" he says, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
He scoops me up in his arms, lifting me high into the air. He rolls me around, spinning me in a circle.
"I didn't even land a blow on him" I thought.
Just a few days after I turn five, I experience a sudden surge in my magical abilities. I've gained control over my mana arcane, and with intense focus, I've mastered the art of harnessing its power.
As I stand by the serene lake near our house, the water's calm surface reflecting the sky's brilliant blue, I close my eyes and concentrate on the mana flowing through my veins.
The air around me begins to shimmer, like the heat haze on a summer's day, and a soft hum fills the air, a gentle vibration that resonates deep within my chest.
I raise my hands, and a brilliant white shield erupts from my fingertips, its surface rippling with intricate, swirling patterns, like the gentle lapping of waves on the lake's shore.
The shield's luminescence illuminates the surrounding landscape, casting an ethereal glow on the trees and water. The light dances across the lake's surface, creating a mesmerizing display of color and light.
As I stand and punch my fists in the air, practicing my technique, the shield pulses with energy, its surface shimmering and undulating like a living thing.
I feel a surge of power and confidence flow through me, my movements becoming more fluid and precise. The shield responds to my every gesture, its energy attuning itself to my will.
With each punch, the shield emits a soft, resonant tone, like the gentle ringing of a crystal glass. The sound echoes across the lake, blending with the sweet songs of the birds and the rustling of the leaves in the breeze.
The air around me seems to vibrate with magic, as if the very fabric of reality is being shaped and molded by my will.
I smile, a sense of excitement and wonder coursing through me. "Yeah, I can feel it, it's growing stronger," I say to myself, my voice barely above a whisper.
As I continue to practice and hone my mana, I've made a fascinating discovery. I've noticed that the amount of mana I can harness and wield is directly linked to my physical and mental exhaustion.
When I use my mana to its fullest extent, I feel a significant drain on my energy. My body feels weary, my muscles aching and my limbs heavy.
My mind becomes foggy, my thoughts cloudy and disjointed. I'm left feeling depleted, as if I've run a marathon or gone without sleep for days.
However, I've observed that the next time I use my mana, the amount I can access has increased. It's as if my body has adapted to the previous exertion, allowing me to tap into a deeper reservoir of magical energy.
This realization sends a thrill of excitement through me, and I feel a sense of anticipation building in my chest.
I approach a sturdy tree, its trunk robust and unyielding. With a surge of determination, I focus my mana, and a brilliant white energy erupts from my fingertips.
The air around my fists shimmers, as if the very fabric of reality is being charged with magical power. I take a deep breath, feeling the mana coursing through my veins like liquid fire.
"HAAAA!" I shout, my voice echoing through the air as I launch myself at the tree.
My fist flies forward, and I unleash a powerful punch, channeling my mana into the blow. "KIYAH!" I cry out, my muscles tensing as the impact is delivered.
The tree's trunk shudders under the force of my punch, and a small, glowing indentation appears on its surface. The damage extends a little deeper into the tree's flesh, a testament to the growing strength of my mana.
As I withdraw my fist, I feel a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. "The mana flow inside me has grown stronger," I think to myself, a grin spreading across my face.
"But," I pause, my brow furrowed in frustration, "why can't I discover my elemental nature?" I ask myself, holding my head in my hands.
' I've always felt like there's a part of me waiting to be unlocked,' a sense of incompleteness that nags at my mind.
"Hmm, it can't be helped, I suppose I just have to be patient," I say with a sigh, gazing up at the sky.
As the sun begins to set, casting a warm orange glow over the landscape, I realize I should head home. "I'd better get going, or Mother will be worried," I think to myself, turning my back on the serene lake.
I stroll back home along the lake's edge, the gentle lapping of the water against the shore creating a soothing melody. As I walk, I notice an elderly man sitting on the shore, fishing with an unusual method.
He stands tall, his presence commanding attention, exuding an aura of quiet confidence. A rigged cowboy-style cap sits atop his head, its brim shading his eyes from the sun. A scarf, its edges singed and frayed from flames, wraps around his neck, flowing down to his feet like a cloak, billowing behind him in the breeze.
The elderly man's hair was a striking teal color, his eyes a deep brown that sparkled with warmth and kindness but also held a hint of steel.
His strong jawline and chiseled features seemed to be carved from the very earth itself. As he gazed at me, his eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, and he muttered, "Stomade!" under his breath.
Suddenly, a gust of wind burst forth from his hand, rippling the water's surface and sending fish flying out of the lake.
The sound was like a sharp crack, and the movement was so swift and precise that it seemed almost magical. I watched in awe, my eyes wide with wonder, as the fish flailed about on the shore.
"Wow, that's cool, Gramps! How did you do that?" I exclaimed, taking a step forward to him, my curiosity getting the better of me. I was fascinated by the way he'd used the wind to scoop up the fish.
The old man's gaze snaps towards me, his piercing eyes seeming to bore into my very soul. I feel a shiver run down my spine, and I take a hasty step back, my heart racing with surprise.
"S-sorry, old man," I stammer, my voice trembling slightly.
The old man's face creases into a warm, gentle smile, and he lets out a hearty laugh. "My bad, my bad! Sorry for scaring you, kid," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"What's your name, young one?" he asks, his voice filled with kindness and curiosity.
"I'm Aries, Aries Valemont," I reply, feeling a bit more at ease, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly as the old man's warm smile puts me at comfort.
The old man nods thoughtfully, his eyes sparkling with interest like stars on a clear night. "Ah, Aries Valemont, eh?" he says, his voice dripping with intrigue.
"Well, listen up, young Aries. What you just saw is wind magic – one of the elements I possess." He pauses, letting the words hang in the air like a challenge.
"You see, every human has a unique elemental nature, and there are four main basic elements: fire, water, wind, and earth," he explains, his voice weaving a spell of curiosity around me.
"Some people are born with a single element, while others, like myself, possess two." He pauses, studying me intently, his gaze piercing like a winter breeze.
"I possess two of these elements: wind, as you've seen, and water," he reveals, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
My eyes widened in surprise. "But a person can only have one element, right, Gramps?" I asked, my voice laced with skepticism.
The old man chuckled and patted me on the head. "Not quite, Aries. There are some people who possess dual natures," he said with a knowing smile.
"Dual natures?" I repeated, my curiosity piqued.
He nodded. "Yeah, dual natures. Those who possess a single elemental nature are called Solebinders," he explained, his eyes serious and intent. "And those who possess dual natures are known as Arcynates."
My eyes widened even further as I processed the new terms. "Solebinders... and... Arcynates?" I whispered, the words feeling like magic on my lips.
The old man's gaze seemed to bore into mine, as if searching for something. "Yes, Aries. And being an Arcynate is not just about possessing two elements – it's about mastering the balance between them," he said, his voice low and mysterious.
The old man's words are laced with a deep wisdom, and I feel my mind expanding with the possibilities. As I smile, the old man's eyes widen in surprise, and he stares at me with an unnerving intensity for a moment,
I feel like he's seeing right through me. I sense a flicker of recognition in his eyes.
"he sure looks like him" he thinks to himself without saying it out loud.