Cherreads

Chapter 5 - Blade and Breath

Caelum's arms burned.

"Again," barked the instructor.

He raised the practice sword for the seventh time. Sweat trickled down his brow. Across from him, a student from House Solis grinned.

"Come on, farm boy. Swing like you mean it."

The wooden swords clashed. Caelum's blow was easily deflected. His opponent, a stocky boy named Daren Flint, pivoted and smacked him hard in the ribs. Caelum stumbled back with a grunt.

Laughter erupted from the Solis students on the edge of the training yard.

"Wind-boy's got no muscle."

"Maybe he should stick to flying kites."

Caelum tried to block out their voices. The sword felt heavy in his hands unnatural, like holding a tool he didn't deserve.

"Focus," he told himself. "Control your stance. Use what you"

Too late. Daren's next strike swept his legs, and Caelum hit the ground hard.

---

Across the yard, Ardyn Veyne leaned silently against a pillar, arms crossed. His pale eyes followed Caelum with unreadable intensity. He said nothing, but his fingers drummed lightly against his twin sabers.

Near him, Lira was already arguing with an instructor about "outdated sparring formats," and Eo was kneeling beside a bird with an injured wing she found in the grass.

None of them had been assigned to fight yet.

Only Caelum.

And he was losing.

Again.

---

After class, Caelum limped back to House Umbra with a bruised hip and a bruised ego. The training yard had been brutal. Every house had watched. And every house had seen him fail.

"I'm not built for this," he muttered as he sat by the fire.

"You're not built yet," said a voice.

He looked up. Ardyn stood over him, tossing a practice blade onto the table.

"Come to the yard tonight. Midnight. We train."

Caelum blinked. "Why?"

Ardyn shrugged. "Because I don't like being in a house with dead weight."

---

That night, Caelum snuck out of the dorm.

The training yard was empty under the moonlight. Mist curled along the stone floor. Ardyn stood waiting, sabers strapped to his back.

"You rely too much on luck," Ardyn said.

"I don't have anything else."

"You have wind. You have instinct. But your feet move like they're stuck in mud."

They sparred slow at first. Ardyn didn't strike to hurt. He struck to teach. Every movement, every failed block, came with a correction. By the time the moon reached its peak, Caelum was exhausted, but moving smoother, lighter.

At one point, Caelum spun low and flicked his wrist. A small gust of wind followed his blade and nearly unbalanced Ardyn.

Ardyn raised an eyebrow. "Again."

---

By the third night, something clicked.

Caelum's sword wasn't a burden anymore it was an extension of motion. His wind magic no longer surged wildly it whispered, waited, and moved with intent.

And then came the real test.

---

During open combat class the next week, Instructor Feylor, a former Solis commander, called for a special round.

"Two-on-two match. Solis vs Umbra."

Valen Draymore stepped forward. "I'll represent Solis."

Daren Flint joined him with a smirk.

Ardyn stepped forward from Umbra's side.

And then he looked at Caelum.

"You're with me."

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

The match was quick, brutal, and beautiful.

Valen struck with speed and grace. Daren used brute force. But Ardyn countered every move like a ghost.

And Caelum—Caelum danced.

He used the momentum of each step to ride the air. His sword arcs curved with compressed wind, deflecting ice projectiles and enhancing his strikes.

Together, they won.

Not by overpowering.

But by outmaneuvering.

---

As Valen glared from the ground, Caelum stood with his sword lowered, chest heaving, the wind still curling around his boots.

The academy had taken notice.

And so had something deeper within the Aether.

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