CHAPTER 8: LEARNING TO FIGHT

LEARNING TO FIGHT

Morning came earlier than Kevin expected.

He stood in the training yard behind the Riven estate, staring at the wooden targets lined across the field. The five-point Codex floated beside him. On his shoulder sat Veyr, wings folded, crimson eyes half-closed.

Kevin glanced sideways. "You're awake?"

"I've been awake."

"You look asleep."

"I can look however I want."

Kevin shook his head. "You're going to be difficult, aren't you?"

"Very."

Veyr flew up and hovered in front of him. "Now show me what you can do."

"I thought you said I needed to learn."

"I did."

"Then teach me."

Veyr landed back on his shoulder. "No."

"No?"

"You teach yourself."

"Then what's the point of having you?"

Veyr smiled. "I'll tell you when you're doing something stupid."

"So you're here to criticise me."

"Exactly."

Kevin laughed. He turned to the targets and opened the Codex. The pages stirred in the morning breeze. He remembered the first spell he'd used in the forest, the crimson energy, and raised his hand.

"Come on..."

A small red glow gathered at his fingertips. It grew brighter.

BOOM!

The spell exploded before he could release it. Kevin flew backward and landed in the grass.

Veyr didn't move.

Kevin lifted his head. "Don't."

"I haven't said anything."

"You were about to."

"I was going to say that was impressive."

"You're lying."

"Completely."

Kevin groaned and stood up. "Again."

...

He learned quickly that having a powerful Codex did not mean knowing how to use it.

The first problem was control. If he pushed too much magic into a spell, it turned unstable. If he held back too much, it barely formed. Sometimes it vanished. Sometimes it exploded. Once, he destroyed a training target before the spell had even left his hand.

Veyr watched the smoke drift up. "That one was better."

"You call that better?"

"You destroyed the target."

"And almost destroyed myself."

"Details."

Kevin tried again. This time he stopped thinking about strength and focused on the flow of the magic itself. The Codex opened and one symbol glowed.

"Crimson Edge."

A thin blade of red energy formed around his arm. It held steady. Kevin grinned.

"I did it."

"Now move."

"What?"

"Move."

The moment Kevin stepped forward, the blade flickered and died.

"So I have to hold it while moving?"

"Yes."

"That's harder."

"Magic usually is."

Kevin tried again. One step. Two. Three. The blade held. He swung.

SLASH!

The target split down the middle.

Kevin froze, then slowly smiled. Veyr nodded.

"Better."

"That almost sounded like praise."

"Don't get used to it."

...

Days turned into weeks. Kevin trained every morning. He practised releasing small amounts of energy without wasting power. He worked on defensive barriers and speed, and he trained his body alongside his magic. Most of all, he learned patience.

The Codex had given him something powerful, but power without control was useless. He was starting to understand that.

One afternoon he stood in the middle of the yard while crimson symbols rotated around him, and Veyr hovered above his head.

"Again."

"I've done it twenty times."

"Twenty-one."

Kevin sighed and raised both hands. The symbols spun. A barrier formed around him. Then a second. Then a third.

"Good," Veyr said.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"You're getting nicer."

"No." Veyr settled back onto his shoulder. "You're getting better."

Kevin looked out over the field. His magic wasn't wild anymore. It wasn't perfect, not even close. But it listened to him.

And for the first time, he could look at his Codex without fear.

...

Across the capital, Arena Riven stood in the centre of a large magical chamber, surrounded by crystal formations.

A wave of magic rushed at her. She raised one hand, and a brilliant barrier shattered the attack. Her counter struck the far wall.

BOOM!

The instructors watching from the side nodded. "Excellent control."

Arena lowered her hand. She wasn't satisfied. "Again."

"You've already completed the exercise."

"I can do better."

For months she had barely stopped. Ceremonies, meetings, noble gatherings, private lessons. Everywhere she went, people talked about her four-point Codex. Some called her the future of Valeris.

She appreciated their confidence. But there was one thing she couldn't stop thinking about.

Kevin.

She hadn't seen him properly since the ceremony. She had gone to his room several times and found him training, or away, or asleep. Their schedules had pulled them apart.

She looked at her Codex and closed her eyes.

I hope you're still fighting, Kevin.

...

That evening, Kevin sat beside the river, the same river where everything had changed. Veyr rested on his shoulder, wings moving gently in the breeze.

"I've improved," Kevin said.

"You have."

"Do you think I'm ready for the Magical Knight Trial?"

"No."

"That was quick."

"You still have much to learn."

Kevin smiled. "I know." He picked up a stone and tossed it into the water. "But I'm not the person who stood at that ceremony."

"No."

He looked at the Codex. "I used to think getting one would solve everything."

"And now?"

"Now I know it was only the beginning."

Veyr smiled. "Good answer."

They walked back toward the estate together, Kevin on the ground and Veyr flying beside him before settling again on his shoulder.

Neither of them noticed the figure on a distant rooftop, watching.

A pair of eyes followed Kevin's every step. Then they disappeared into the dark.