Chapter 6
Author: Dep Flair
last update2025-07-05 06:01:35

Draven woke up feeling like a completely different person.

The memories from the Memorial Garden were still there, settled into his mind like they'd always belonged. Fighting techniques from a dozen different masters. Tactical knowledge that could turn the tide of battles. And underneath it all, that warm ember of understanding about fire magic.

Time to see if any of this is real, or if I just had the world's most vivid hallucination.

Jin was already up and dressed, looking worried. "You were talking in your sleep last night," he said. "Something about swords and spirits. Bad dreams?"

"Something like that." Draven stretched, surprised that his body didn't ache more after last night's... experience. "What's on the schedule today?"

"Basic combat training for everyone. Even the theoretical students have to take it." Jin made a face. "Professor Elmsworth said it was academy policy. Everyone needs to know how to defend themselves."

Perfect.

They made their way to the training grounds after breakfast, joining a group of about thirty first-year students. Master Thorne was there, along with a woman Draven didn't recognize—tall and lean, with graying hair and scars on her hands that spoke of serious combat experience.

"Good morning, students," the woman said, her voice carrying easily across the courtyard. "I'm Master Vex, your combat instructor. Today we'll be starting with basic sword work. Everyone partner up."

The students began pairing off immediately. Jin started to move toward Draven, but Cus Thornfield stepped between them.

"I'll take the hollow prince," Cus said with a nasty grin. "Someone should show him what real combat looks like."

"Cus," Master Vex said warningly. "This is training, not a grudge match."

"Of course, Master. Just want to help a fellow student learn."

Yeah, right.

Jin looked like he wanted to argue, but Draven held up a hand. "It's fine. I can handle myself."

At least, I hope I can.

Master Vex distributed practice swords—blunted steel that could bruise but not kill. "Remember, the goal is to learn, not to hurt each other. Light contact only. Begin with basic forms."

Draven took the practice sword and immediately felt the difference. Where yesterday it had felt clumsy and foreign in his hands, now it felt... right. Natural. Like an extension of his arm.

"Ready to embarrass yourself again?" Cus asked, raising his sword in what was supposed to be a basic guard position. It was sloppy—too high, leaving his ribs exposed.

Amateur.

"We'll see," Draven said, settling into a proper stance. The knowledge flowed through him like water, positioning his feet, angling his blade, setting his balance just right.

Cus attacked immediately, going for a heavy overhead strike that would have been devastating if it connected. Against yesterday's Draven, it might have worked.

But yesterday's Draven hadn't absorbed the combat memories of dozens of dead heroes.

Draven stepped aside—not a big, dramatic dodge, just a small shift that took him out of the line of attack. Cus's sword whistled past his ear, and while the other boy was off-balance from the missed strike, Draven's blade tapped him lightly on the ribs.

"Point," Master Vex called, sounding surprised.

Cus stared at him, confusion replacing smugness. "Lucky shot."

"Must be," Draven agreed mildly.

They reset. This time Cus was more careful, circling and probing with smaller attacks. But being careful wasn't enough when your opponent could read your intentions in the set of your shoulders, the position of your feet, the way you held your weapon.

Sir Thomas Brightblade's defensive techniques. Never let the enemy dictate the pace of the fight.

Draven parried Cus's next attack and riposted smoothly, his blade sliding past the other boy's guard to tap him on the shoulder.

"Point."

The training ground was starting to quiet down as other students noticed what was happening. Cus’s face was turning red, whether from embarrassment or anger.

"Stop playing with me," Cus snarled, raising his sword again.

"I'm not playing," Draven said honestly.

The third exchange was over even faster. Marcus came in with a combination attack—high, low, then a thrust toward the center. It was actually pretty good for a student his age.

It wasn't nearly good enough.

Draven deflected the first strike, stepped inside the second, and caught Marcus's thrust on his crossguard. A quick twist disarmed the other boy completely, sending his practice sword clattering across the stones. Draven's blade came to rest against Marcus's throat.

"Point. And match." Master Vex's voice carried clearly in the sudden silence. "Mr. Ashworth, that was... impressive."

Draven stepped back and lowered his sword, offering Cus a hand up. The redhead ignored it, scrambling to his feet on his own.

"You cheated somehow," Cus said, his voice shaking with rage. "Nobody gets that good overnight."

"Maybe I've been practicing in secret," Draven said. It wasn't exactly a lie.

"Bullshit. Yesterday you couldn't even light a candle, and now you're suddenly a sword master? There's something fishy about this."

If only you knew.

"That's enough," Master Vex said firmly. "Mr. Thornfield, return to your original partner. Mr. Ashworth, excellent work. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

From the memories of dead heroes. No big deal.

"My grandfather taught me some basics before he died," Draven said instead. "I guess it stuck better than I thought."

Master Vex nodded, though she still looked puzzled. "Well, you have natural talent. We should talk about advanced placement in combat classes."

The rest of the training session passed in a blur. Word of Draven's performance spread quickly, and he could feel eyes on him from all directions. Some looked impressed. Others looked suspicious. A few looked worried.

Jin was practically bouncing with excitement when they headed back to the dorms.

"That was incredible!" he said. "Where the hell did that come from? Yesterday you could barely hold a sword without cutting yourself."

"Secret," Draven said weakly.

"Have you been holding?"

Good question.

"I couldn't sleep last night," Draven said, which was at least partially true. "So I went down to the practice yards and worked on some forms. Guess I'm a quick learner."

Jin looked skeptical, but he let it drop. They were halfway back to their dorm when Lyra fell into step beside them.

"That was quite a show back there," she said, studying Draven with those sharp green eyes. "I've been watching Cus’ train since we got here. He's not great, but he's not terrible either. You dismantled him like he was a complete beginner."

"Maybe he was having an off day."

"Maybe." Lyra didn't sound convinced. "Or maybe there's more to you than meets the eye."

You have no idea.

"Speaking of which," she continued, "there's something I wanted to ask you. About your awakening ceremony."

Draven tensed. "What about it?"

"I've been doing some research in the library. Cases of late awakening, delayed manifestation, that sort of thing. And I found something interesting."

They'd reached the entrance to the Ember Block. Lyra glanced around to make sure they weren't being overheard, then leaned closer.

"Sometimes, when someone has an unusual affinity—something rare or powerful—the standard awakening crystal can't detect it. It's designed to respond to the basic elements, but there are other kinds of magic. Older kinds."

Older kinds. Like communing with the dead.

"What are you saying?" Draven asked carefully.

"I'm saying maybe you're not powerless. Maybe you just have a type of magic the crystal couldn't recognize."

Jin was staring at both of them now. "Wait, you think Draven actually has power? But the examination—"

"The examination tested for elemental magic," Lyra interrupted. "Fire, water, earth, air, lightning. But what if his affinity is for something else entirely?"

"Like what?" Draven asked.

Lyra smiled, and it wasn't entirely friendly. "That's what I intend to find out."

Great. The last thing I need is someone investigating my secrets.

But before he could figure out how to respond, Sera appeared as if from nowhere. One moment the hallway was empty except for the three of them, the next she was standing right beside Lyra like she'd been there all along.

"Investigating what?" Sera asked innocently.

"Where did you come from?" Jin demanded.

"I was in the shadows," Sera said, like that explained everything. "They're very comfortable. You should try them sometime."

Shadow magic. Right. I forgot she could do that.

"We were just discussing Draven's impressive combat performance," Lyra said smoothly.

"Oh, that." Sera looked at Draven with interest. "Yes, that was fascinating. Very unexpected. Almost like you became a different person overnight."

Too close to the truth for comfort.

"People change," Draven said. "Especially under pressure."

"Indeed they do." Sera's smile was mysterious and slightly unsettling. "I find it curious how many people seem to change dramatically after spending time in certain parts of the academy. The older parts. The more... historical parts."

She knows. Somehow, she knows.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Draven lied.

"Of course you don't." Sera's smile widened. "Well, this has been a delightful conversation, but I should get to class. Shadow manipulation theory waits for no one."

She melted back into the shadows—literally melted, like she was made of darkness herself—and vanished.

"I really don't like her," Jin muttered.

"She's harmless," Lyra said, though she didn't sound entirely convinced. "Probably."

Probably.

They parted ways at the dormitory entrance, Lyra heading to her advanced wind classes and Jin going to basic earth manipulation. Draven was supposed to report to another theoretical magic session, but he found himself taking a detour instead.

Back to the Memorial Garden.

In daylight, it looked different. Peaceful rather than mysterious, beautiful rather than haunting. The flowers were in full bloom, and bees hummed lazily among the blossoms. It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago, this place had been filled with the voices of the dead.

Draven walked to the central monument and pressed his hand against the black stone.

Nothing happened.

Hello? he thought. Anyone there?

Silence.

Maybe it only worked at night. Or maybe it had been a one-time thing, the spirits giving him everything they had before moving on to whatever came next.

Either way, he had their gifts now. Their knowledge, their skills, their memories. The question was what to do with them.

Use them wisely, his grandfather's note had said. The family's honor may depend on it.

No pressure or anything.

But as Draven stood there in the garden, surrounded by the graves of heroes, he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Purpose..

These people had died protecting others. Fighting for something bigger than themselves. And now their knowledge lived on in him.

I won't waste this gift. I won't let them down.

And I won't let anyone else look at me like I'm worthless ever again.

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