The world had stopped breathing.
Dust swirled gently in the air, catching the faint sunlight that slipped through the torn barrier above the arena. The crowd's roar — deafening moments ago — had dissolved into silence, leaving only the hollow sound of wind scraping across stone.
And in that silence… Kairen Zephyrwind stood.
Bleeding, trembling, and somehow still standing.
His body was broken, his breath shallow, but his eyes — those dim violet eyes — refused to close. The blue shimmer of his mark burned faintly through the torn back of his shirt, glowing in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Kaelan froze mid-step. His golden aura flickered, uncertain. The sneer that had owned his face moments ago slipped away. "What… what is this?"
Kairen didn't answer. Couldn't.
The heat along his back was unbearable — like molten fire spreading under his skin. He dropped to one knee, gasping. Every muscle screamed. His vision pulsed in flashes of white and blue.
He dug his sword into the ground just to keep from collapsing. The sound of metal scraping stone echoed sharply.
Stop… please stop… he begged silently. I can't… I can't take it…
The pain grew hotter, sharper — until it wasn't pain anymore but something else entirely. It felt alive. It was pulsing with rhythm — ancient, patient, waiting.
And then, through the haze, he heard it — a voice.
Low. Calm. Warm.
"Stand, my son."
His breath hitched. He knew that voice. He had heard it long ago, under a twilight sky when he was small enough to hide behind his father's cloak.
"F-Father?" he whispered. His throat burned with the word.
Images flashed in his mind — fragments, dreamlike and disjointed.
A pair of strong hands guiding his grip on a wooden sword.
A soft laugh when he fell trying to mimic a hero's stance.
A promise whispered the night before his father left:
"When the mark burns, don't be afraid. It means your heart has chosen to fight for something real."
And now it burned.
The mark cracked open in a flood of light.
A sharp, shattering sound tore through the air — crack! — like glass breaking underwater. The blue light burst outward from his back, wrapping him in radiance so bright it turned shadows to nothing. The air around him vibrated; arcs of energy hissed and snapped like lightning crawling across the sand.
The crowd gasped. Some shielded their eyes. Others stood frozen in awe.
From the instructor's platform, Rayan stumbled back, eyes wide. "That's… not mana. That's something else."
Kellan gripped the railing, knuckles white. His silver hair whipped in the sudden wind as his voice broke through the chaos, low and tense. "The mark's awakening."
Beside him, Elara's hand flew to her mouth. "No… no, it's hurting him…" Her voice cracked, trembling between terror and hope.
The blue light intensified. For a moment, it looked like wings — faint, ethereal shapes spreading from Kairen's shoulders, shimmering with intricate lines of power.
The students gasped again. "Wings!" someone shouted. "He's got wings!"
But they weren't real wings — they were light, alive with pulse and motion, scattering feathers of energy that vanished before they touched the ground.
Kairen's head dropped. His breath was ragged, his body shaking from the sheer force running through him. But behind the pain, behind the fear, there was something else now — a calm, steady voice in the storm.
"Don't fight it, Kairen. Let it remember you."
He exhaled, letting the power flow. The sand beneath him trembled.
Kaelan finally moved, taking a step forward, his own aura flaring defensively. His golden eyes burned with panic and anger. "What are you?" he hissed. "What trick is this?"
Kairen didn't answer. His eyes opened slowly — faint blue light flickering in them.
Kaelan growled. "Fine. Let's end your little miracle."
He raised his staff. Gold flared, forming a sphere of pure light between his palms. "Radiant Torrent!"
The spell fired — a roaring blast of compressed energy that cracked the stone where it passed.
It hit.
Or rather, it should have.
The explosion tore through the arena floor, kicking up smoke and dust. For a second, Kaelan smirked. "And that's—"
"—too slow."
Kairen's voice came from behind him. Calm. Cold.
Kaelan's heart skipped. He spun — and the world blurred blue.
Kairen moved like water, like wind given form — each motion fluid, precise, silent. A streak of blue light followed every step. His sword met Kaelan's staff with a sharp metallic clang! Sparks scattered across the sand.
Kaelan staggered back, stunned. "You— you dodged that!?"
Kairen's face didn't change. "No. I moved before you fired."
Kaelan's pupils shrank. "That's impossible!"
He fired again — a rapid stream of golden bolts, each one stronger than the last. They screamed through the air, slicing trenches into the sand. Kairen darted between them, twisting, rolling, the faint hum of the mark guiding every movement.
Each time Kaelan blinked, Kairen was somewhere else. A ghost. A blur.
From the stands, Dain was screaming so loudly his voice cracked. "THAT'S MY BROTHER! LET'S GO, KAIREN! LIGHT HIM UP!"
Ilya stared beside him, jaw tight. "That's not normal," she whispered. "That's not just magic."
Rayan's hand trembled over the barrier switch. "His aura's off the scale…"
On the balcony, Kellan's voice dropped to a whisper. "That's not learned power. That's inherited."
Elara could barely stand. Her fingers dug into the railing as tears streamed down her face. "He's fighting with his father's spirit…"
Kaelan's frustration boiled into rage. "STOP MOVING!" He roared and swung his staff like a weapon.
Kairen's sword met it mid-arc — clang! — sparks flashed again, lighting both faces.
"Why won't you fall!?" Kaelan shouted, voice shaking. "You're supposed to be weak!"
Kairen pushed back, eyes narrowing. "Maybe I was." He twisted his blade, locking Kaelan's staff between the blunted edge and his arm. "But not anymore."
He shoved forward. The force sent Kaelan skidding across the sand.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Kaelan recovered quickly, rage overtaking reason. He screamed, golden energy bursting from his palms. Dozens of magic circles formed in the air, rotating like gears. "Let's see you dodge this!"
The sky rained gold.
Bolts of pure light fell like meteors, detonating in a chain of thunderous blasts. Each impact shook the arena floor.
And yet — through it all — Kairen moved.
He slid under one blast, the next grazing his shoulder, burning through fabric. Pain seared, but he didn't stop. His feet left streaks of blue fire across the sand. He deflected two bolts with his sword, the blade ringing like a bell.
He was no longer running from Kaelan. He was running through him.
Kaelan's expression cracked. Sweat dripped down his temple. His breathing grew uneven. "No… no, this isn't possible!"
Kairen stopped just ten feet away. Dust swirled around him like a halo of light.
He raised his sword. "You said I'd never stand where you stand." His voice was calm, steady, each word clear. "But look around, Kaelan. You're the one falling back."
Kaelan screamed and lunged.
Their weapons collided. The sound was like thunder — THOOM! — echoing through every wall of the arena. Blue and gold light surged together, battling for dominance. The air cracked, pushing back the first few rows of the crowd.
For a heartbeat, they were equals — two colors locked in chaos.
Then, Kairen's mark flared again — brighter than ever.
The blue light expanded, swallowing the gold. A shockwave ripped outward. Kaelan's staff was wrenched from his hands, spinning through the air before clattering uselessly across the sand.
The next second, the cold edge of Kairen's blunted sword rested against Kaelan's throat.
Silence.
Kaelan stood frozen, breathing fast, eyes wide.
Kairen's chest rose and fell heavily. The glow from his back began to dim. "It's over," he said softly.
Kaelan's lips trembled. "You… you're nothing…"
Kairen shook his head. "Maybe. But I fought anyway."
He lowered his sword.
Rayan's voice finally broke the silence.
"The winner… is Kairen Zephyrwind!"
The crowd erupted like a storm. Cheers, shouts, stomping feet — thousands of voices blending into one wild rhythm.
"ZE-PHYR-WIND! ZE-PHYR-WIND!"
Up in the stands, Dain threw his arms into the air. "THAT'S MY GUY! HE DID IT! HE DID IT!"
Ilya actually smiled — rare, small, but real. "He really did."
Lia, watching near the healer's tent, wiped tears from her eyes. "He… he made it."
On the balcony, Elara's knees gave way. She sank to the floor, shaking, whispering through tears, "You did it, my boy…"
Kellan just stared down at the field, his voice low and heavy. "He's awake… truly awake."
But on the arena floor, Kairen barely heard the noise.
The rush of power was fading. His vision swam, the world tilting slightly. His body felt weightless, hollowed out.
He looked toward the stands, squinting through the haze. He saw her — his mother — smiling through tears.
A small, tired smile touched his lips.
Then his knees buckled.
The sword slipped from his hand. He fell forward into the sand with a soft thud.
"KAIREN!" Elara's scream tore through the air.
Rayan rushed forward. "He's alive!" he shouted quickly to the medics who were already sprinting across the field.
The crowd's roar softened into murmurs.
Kellan turned away, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Just like his father…" he whispered.
As Kairen's vision faded, he heard the crowd one last time — his name echoing like a heartbeat through the world.
"ZE-PHYR-WIND! ZE-PHYR-WIND!"
And within that fading noise, a voice whispered softly through the dark — the same calm tone as before.
"You found your wings, my son."
A tear slid down his cheek.
Then — darkness.