Sparks Of Rivalry
Author: Diamond
last update2025-09-01 22:00:55

The morning air was crisp, carrying a hint of frost as Kael stepped onto the academy grounds. Each breath felt heavy, like he was inhaling the weight of expectation itself. Today wasn’t just another training session—today, the academy’s Council of Elements was observing sparring matches.

Kael’s pulse thudded in his ears. His Shadowfire, usually silent when he tried to hide it, seemed to flicker impatiently, like a restless animal sensing danger. He clenched his fists, trying to calm it. Control, Kael. You must control it. Not just for you… but for everyone else.

“Ah, so this is the boy with the whispering fire,” a voice drawled from the shadows.

Kael turned sharply. A tall figure stepped forward, a confident grin spreading across his face. Silver hair gleamed under the sunlight, and his piercing blue eyes locked onto Kael’s.

“I’m Darius ,” the boy said, voice smooth and arrogant. “I hear you’re the academy’s… problem child. Shall we see if the rumors are true?”

Kael’s stomach twisted. He had expected challenges, but not this level of outright hostility.

“I… I don’t want trouble,” Kael said cautiously.

Daeron’s grin widened. “Oh, I think trouble wants you.”

---

The sparring hall was packed. Students lined the edges, whispering, waiting for the first clash. Teachers observed from above, their expressions unreadable. Kael’s heart raced as he faced Daeron, feeling the Shadowfire pulse beneath his skin like a coiled spring.

The first strike came fast—a lightning-infused kick aimed at Kael’s side. He barely twisted away, feeling the wind tear past him. Each movement sent shivers down his spine. He could feel Daeron’s eyes on him, measuring, calculating, daring him to falter.

Kael’s hands glowed faintly with Shadowfire, invisible to the others but alive to him. He had to resist the urge to unleash it fully; if the teachers saw, he would be expelled—or worse, questioned by the Council.

He dodged again, heart hammering. “You fight well,” he said, voice tight. “But I’m not afraid.”

Daeron’s grin faltered for a heartbeat. “You should be.”

Sparks flew—literally—when Daeron channeled his Thunder Path energy. Kael ducked under a crackling bolt, feeling the residual heat singe the hairs on his arms. He countered instinctively, letting Shadowfire flare, but just enough to deflect the attack. The dark flames whispered in delight, teasing, hungry, alive.

The sparring became a dance, each strike and counter weaving a tapestry of tension. Sweat stung Kael’s eyes, his muscles screamed, and yet… he felt alive, more alive than he had ever felt in his seventeen years.

A misstep from Darius allowed Kael to land a solid strike—but instead of finishing him, he hesitated. The Shadowfire whispered insistently, urging him to seize the advantage. Kael shook his head. Not yet.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the round. Daeron’s chest heaved, face red from exertion. He glared at Kael, a flicker of respect hidden beneath irritation. “You’re not completely useless,” he muttered.

Kael gave a small nod, unsure how to respond. “Neither are you,” he said quietly.

---

Later, as students gathered to discuss the matches, Kael found Taren waiting. “That was… intense,” Taren said, eyes wide. “I thought Daeron would crush you!”

Kael shrugged, though his arms ached and his body burned with exhaustion. “I didn’t want to hurt him… not fully. But I can’t deny, the Shadowfire helped.”

Taren’s gaze softened. “It’s okay. That power… it’s part of you. And one day, it’s going to protect you, or someone you care about.”

Kael looked down at the pendant. One day… one day it will answer my questions. One day I’ll know the truth.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of training and observation. Kael found himself increasingly aware of Darius's presence—watching, testing, pushing, and sometimes even grudgingly respecting the boy’s skill. The rivalry simmered like a slow fire, unpredictable and sharp.

In the evening, Kael returned to his quarters, exhausted but unable to sleep. He sat cross-legged, eyes closed, letting the Shadowfire pulse quietly around him. Memories of his parents pressed in, sharp and tender. He saw their faces in flashes, heard their voices in the whispers of the pendant.

“I won’t fail you,” he whispered. “I will master this power… and I will find you.”

The Shadowfire responded, flickering in approval, wrapping him in warmth and darkness at once. It was a dangerous companion, yes—but it was also his guide, his weapon, and perhaps the only thing tethering him to the truth of his lineage.

That night, as Kael drifted into a restless sleep, a shadow passed silently across the academy walls. Eyes glinted in the darkness, cold and calculating.

The boy is strong… stronger than they realize. But strength draws attention. And attention… can be deadly.

Somewhere in the shadows, plans were already forming. Rivals, enemies, and hidden watchers waited. And Kael Ardyn, the boy who had failed every expectation, was only beginning to awaken.

Continue to read this book for free
Scan the code to download the app

Latest Chapter

  • When Gods Begin To Slip

    The Council Chamber had never known silence. Even in moments of mourning or judgment, there was always a hum—wards breathing, sigils whispering, the Veil itself resonating faintly through the crystalline spire that housed the highest authority in Aetherion. Tonight, that hum fractured. The moment the failsafe collapsed, every rune embedded in the chamber flared blood-red. Alarms did not ring. They screamed. High Seer Valec rose from his seat so abruptly his chair shattered behind him, crystal exploding across the floor. His blindfold—woven from Veil-silk and sanctified ash—smoldered at the edges. “No,” he whispered. Across the circular chamber, the Twelve reacted in varying degrees of disbelief. Some stood. Some froze. One laughed—high, sharp, hysterical. Impossible was not a word the Council used lightly. The sigil suspended above the chamber—the Vessel Matrix—flickered violently. Lines that had been pristine and precise now warped, fracturing into unfamiliar geometries

  • The Failsafe

    After a few days went by...,Lyra noticed some gaps first.Not the big ones. Not memories ripped clean from her mind or moments that vanished entirely. Those would have been easier to name. Easier to fear.These were… soft absences.A pause where a feeling should have been.A name that took a heartbeat too long to surface.A warmth she remembered having but couldn’t quite reach anymore.She sat alone at the edge of the stream, fingers trailing through cold water, watching the ripples distort her reflection. The pendant at her throat pulsed faintly, slower than it used to. Tired.Something was wrong.She pressed a hand to her chest, focusing inward, the way Riven had taught her—before he died. Before everything shattered.Light answered her call.But it came sluggishly.Not dimmer.Weaker.As if part of it had been… redirected.Lyra sucked in a sharp breath and stood.Across the clearing, Kael was sparring with Darius—slow, controlled movements, no Shadowfire visible, no surges of powe

  • The Line He Wouldn't cross

    Darius noticed the change before Lyra did. It wasn’t dramatic. There was no flare of Shadowfire, no violent rupture in the air, no scream from the Veil. If anything, Kael seemed… quieter. Controlled in a way that felt unnatural. That was what unsettled him. Kael had always been a storm—contained, yes, but never still. Even at rest, there had been an edge to him, a tension like drawn steel. Now that tension was gone. Replaced by something smoother. Too smooth. Darius sat sharpening his blade at the edge of camp, eyes half-lidded, listening. Kael was across the clearing, feeding the fire with deliberate movements. No wasted motion. No flicker of shadow curling unconsciously from his fingers. The runes along his arms glowed faintly, evenly—like they were breathing in time with him. That had never happened before. Lyra sat nearby, watching Kael with a crease between her brows. She kept rubbing at her wrist, as if something itched beneath the skin. Darius scraped the whetstone o

  • What He Chose

    Kael waited until the others slept.The night had deepened into that strange, suspended hour before dawn—when the world felt emptied of witnesses. The fire had burned down to coals. Lyra lay wrapped in her cloak beside the fallen log, her breathing shallow, uneven. Even in sleep, faint light bled from her skin in thin, involuntary pulses.Each pulse stabbed him.He crouched beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her face.She stirred. “Kael…?”“I’m here,” he whispered instantly.Her brow smoothed. She leaned into his touch without opening her eyes.That was when he knew.If he waited longer, he wouldn’t be able to do it.He stood slowly, every movement deliberate, and stepped away from the camp.The Whispering Woods parted for him.Not with hostility.With recognition.The Shadowfire curled low around his ankles as he walked, muted, obedient. It had been quieter since the Council’s visit—like a beast pretending to sleep.He reached the clearing where the oaks stood.The place wher

  • Mercy Of The Council

    The message arrived at dawn.Not by courier.Not by spellflare or flarehawk.By silence.The forest went still first.The Whispering Woods had never been quiet—not truly. Even in rest, the trees murmured, roots shifting beneath the soil like sleeping beasts. That morning, every sound thinned, stretched, and vanished. Birds froze mid-call. Wind stilled. Even Kael’s Shadowfire went unnaturally calm.Lyra felt it before she saw it.A pressure behind her eyes.A tightening around her ribs.“Kael,” she whispered.He was already awake.He stood at the edge of the clearing, shoulders tense, rune faintly glowing beneath his collarbone. His gaze was fixed on the space between two ancient oaks—where the air had begun to fold inward, bending like heat over stone.Light split the world.A gate unfurled soundlessly, precise and elegant, etched with sigils Lyra recognized instantly.Council marks.Darius swore under his breath. “They found us.”“No,” Kael said quietly.The Shadowfire didn’t surge.

  • What light Takes

    Lyra did not sleep. Not truly. Whenever she closed her eyes, the light answered. It stirred beneath her skin in quiet pulses, no longer dormant, no longer waiting patiently to be called. It moved now—restless, alert, responding to Kael even when he was still. Especially when he was still. She sat at the edge of the Hollow Sanctum’s inner chamber, back against a cold stone pillar, knees drawn to her chest. Kael slept a few paces away, exhaustion finally dragging him under after the collapse. His breathing was shallow but steady, Shadowfire coiled tightly within him like a restrained beast. Every few breaths, the flame twitched. And every time it did, Lyra felt it. Not heat. Pull. A subtle tug behind her sternum, as if something inside her leaned instinctively toward him. She pressed a hand to her chest and frowned. That was new. Darius noticed before she did. “You’re glowing.” Lyra startled. “I—what?” He gestured with his chin. “Your hands. Barely. But yeah. You are.”

More Chapter
Explore and read good novels for free
Free access to a vast number of good novels on MegaNovel app. Download the books you like and read anywhere & anytime.
Read books for free on the app
Scan code to read on App