THE RELUCTANT WARBORN

Chapter 7 – The First Major Enemy

Kael spent the next week training with the gauntlet.

It wasn't easy. The power inside him felt wild, unpredictable. Sometimes it responded to his will. Other times, it surged on its own, nearly overwhelming him.

Dorian pushed him hard. Every morning before dawn, they met in an abandoned warehouse on the edge of the city. Dorian would attack him, force him to defend, make him use the power until he collapsed from exhaustion.

"Again," Dorian would say.

And Kael would get up and try again.

By the end of the week, he could summon the blue energy at will. Not for long, and not with much control, but it was progress.

"You're getting better," Dorian admitted on the seventh day. "But you're not ready for what's coming."

"What is coming?" Kael asked, wiping sweat from his face.

"Someone who's been looking for you. Someone dangerous." Dorian's expression was grim. "He served your family once. A long time ago. Now he hunts anyone with Draven blood."

"Why would he hunt his own people?"

"Because your family's fall wasn't an accident. It was an execution." Dorian paused. "And he was the one who carried it out."

Kael felt his blood run cold. "When?"

"Tonight, probably. Maybe tomorrow." Dorian checked his phone. "He knows you're here. The gauntlet's awakening sent out a signal. Everyone with the right tools felt it."

"So what do I do?"

"You fight. And you don't lose." Dorian met his eyes. "Because if you do, the Draven bloodline ends with you."

That night, Kael couldn't sleep again.

He sat on the roof of his dorm building, the gauntlet resting on his lap. The metal was cool now, dormant. But he could feel it waiting, like it knew something was coming.

The campus was quiet. Most students were asleep or studying for midterms. Normal problems. Normal lives.

Kael envied them.

A sound made him turn. Footsteps on the roof access stairs.

A man emerged from the doorway. He was tall, maybe six feet, with silver hair tied back and cold gray eyes. He wore a long black coat that moved like liquid in the wind. His presence felt heavy, oppressive, like the air itself was bending around him.

"Kael Draven," the man said. His voice was smooth, almost pleasant. "I've been looking for you."

Kael stood slowly, slipping the gauntlet onto his right hand. "Who are you?"

"My name is Valtor." The man walked closer, hands clasped behind his back. "I served your grandfather. Fought beside him in the old wars. He was a great man."

"Then why are you here?"

"To finish what I started twenty years ago." Valtor stopped about fifteen feet away. "Your family was a disease, Kael. A cancer that needed to be cut out. I did the world a favor."

Kael's fists clenched. "You killed them."

"Every last one. Your grandfather, your uncles, your cousins. I hunted them across three continents." Valtor tilted his head. "Your father was the only one who escaped. Clever man. Hide you well."

"Where is he?"

"Dead, most likely. I lost his trail years ago." Valtor smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Which means you're the last one. The final ember of a dying fire."

"And you're here to put it out," Kael said.

"I am."

Valtor moved.

He crossed the distance in a heartbeat, faster than anything Kael had seen. His fist came at Kael's face like a hammer.

Kael barely blocked it. The impact sent him sliding backward across the roof, his feet scraping against gravel.

Valtor didn't stop. He pressed forward, throwing a combination of strikes that came from impossible angles. Kael blocked what he could, dodged the rest, trying to create space.

But Valtor was everywhere.

A kick caught Kael in the ribs. He felt something crack. Pain exploded through his side, but he forced it down, focused on surviving.

He activated the gauntlet. Blue energy flared around his hand.

Kael swung at Valtor's head. The older man caught his wrist mid-strike, stopping the punch cold.

"Interesting," Valtor said, examining the gauntlet. "So it chose you. I was hoping it had been lost."

He twisted Kael's arm and threw him across the roof.

Kael hit the ground hard, rolled, and came up gasping. His ribs screamed in protest.

Valtor walked toward him slowly, like he had all the time in the world. "Your grandfather wielded that gauntlet. He could level buildings with it. Reshape the earth itself." He shook his head. "And you can barely light up your fist. Pathetic."

Kael forced himself to stand. His mind raced. Valtor was faster, stronger, more experienced. Fighting him head-on was suicide.

He needed to be smart.

Valtor attacked again. This time, Kael didn't try to block. He let Valtor come in close, then dropped low and swept his legs.

Valtor stumbled, surprised.

Kael drove his glowing fist into Valtor's stomach. The energy exploded on impact, sending the older man flying backward.

Valtor hit the roof edge hard, nearly going over. He caught himself, stood, and laughed.

"There it is. A spark of the old fire." He brushed dust off his coat. "But sparks die quickly."

He raised his hand. Dark red energy gathered around his palm, crackling like lightning.

"Let me show you what real power looks like."

He fired.

The blast hit Kael in the chest and sent him tumbling across the roof. His vision blurred. His ears rang. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire.

Through the haze, he saw Valtor walking toward him again.

"Your family thought they were invincible," Valtor said. "They believed their bloodline made them gods. But gods can bleed. Gods can die."

Kael tried to stand. His legs wouldn't cooperate.

Valtor knelt beside him. "Any last words?"

Kael's hand closed around a piece of broken antenna lying on the roof. Without thinking, he swung it at Valtor's face.

The metal connected with the older man's temple. Valtor jerked back, more surprised than hurt.

It was enough.

Kael rolled away, forced himself to his feet, and ran. He jumped off the roof, grabbing a fire escape ladder, sliding down three floors before his hands gave out. He hit the ground badly, pain shooting through his ankle.

But he kept moving.

Behind him, he heard Valtor's voice, calm and unhurried. "Run if you want. It won't matter. I'll find you again. And next time, I'll bring your father's head as proof of what happens to the Draven line."

Kael limped into the shadows between buildings, his father's words echoing in his mind.

His father was alive.

And Valtor was hunting him too.

Kael needed to find him first.