The morning sun spilled through the curtains, cutting through the cold mist that hung over the Ludin estate.
Virel rubbed his sleepy eyes, still sore from last night's scolding. But as he stepped outside, he saw his father standing with the five guests all geared and ready.
"Today," Darius said, crossing his arms, "you'll learn from each of them. Watch, listen, and survive."
Virel gulped. Survive? That didn't sound comforting.
---
First: Lyra Vale – The Archer
Lyra stood under the morning light, her crimson bow glowing faintly with magic lines.
"Focus, little one," she said softly. "Magic archery is about precision, not strength. Even without mana, your eyes must read the wind."
She drew the bowstring; a faint green arrow of air shimmered into existence and shot through a tree leaf.
"Your turn."
Virel picked up a wooden bow. His arrow didn't glow. It didn't even reach halfway before wobbling to the ground.
Lyra chuckled. "Not bad for a start. Feel the rhythm of your breathing. Control that's the secret."
So she had him repeat draw, aim, release. Over and over.
By the tenth shot, his arm trembled; by the thirtieth, he could hit a nearby target.
Lyra smiled. "Remember this, boy. Even if you can't feel mana, control can be stronger than magic."
---
Second: Ronan Tessar The Spear of Crimson
Ronan was tall, his black spear gleaming under the sun.
He tossed a wooden one at Virel. "Let's see your stance."
Virel gripped it, feet apart. Ronan nodded.
"Good. Now attack me."
Before Virel could even move, Ronan swept the spear's shaft, lightly knocking his legs out.
"Too slow. Your center of balance is weak."
He helped Virel up. "Spear combat is like dancing with wind fluid, but grounded. Try again."
They trained for hours. Ronan made him strike, block, spin, repeat. Each mistake was corrected with a calm tap of the spear's tip.
By the end, Virel's hands blistered, his breathing ragged.
But Ronan gave a rare grin. "You've got heart, boy. Keep that it'll carry you further than mana ever could."
---
Third: Scarlet Winterbell – The Knife and the Breeze
Scarlet was the youngest, barely older than Virel's mother. Her twin knives glimmered faintly with runic marks.
"Ready?" she asked, crouching low.
Virel blinked. "For what...?"
Before he could finish, she vanished from sight.
A soft gust brushed his neck then a tap.
"You're dead," she said, smirking.
Scarlet began teaching him footwork, agility, and evasion. "Speed isn't about how fast you move, but when you move."
She blindfolded him, tossed pebbles, and made him dodge using only sound and instinct.
At first, he failed miserably pebbles hit him on the shoulder, back, and head.
But he learned quickly. Soon, he could sense her movement even before she struck.
"Good," Scarlet said, smiling faintly. "You've got sharp instincts. Don't lose that edge."
---
Fourth: Alina Reiss – The Calm of the Wind
Alina, dressed in blue robes, stood on the grassy field with her hair dancing in the breeze.
"I control wind, Virel," she said, raising her hand. "But the principle is calm. Wind listens only to those whose hearts are quiet."
She had him meditate in silence to breathe, feel the movement of the air, and find his rhythm.
Hours passed. The others sparred nearby, but Alina and Virel simply sat, unmoving.
"Your mana may be blocked," she said softly, "but you can still connect to nature's rhythm. Remember that."
Though he couldn't feel mana, something in that silence spoke to him the same peace he once felt in battle in his past life.
---
Fifth: Darren Holt – The Weight of the Earth
Darren was huge, his body covered in brown armor plates.
He tossed a rock to Virel. "Strength doesn't come from size, boy. It comes from grounding yourself."
He made Virel hold a boulder small at first, then larger.
Every time he stumbled, Darren barked, "Again!"
After nearly an hour, Virel collapsed to the ground, panting.
Darren crouched beside him. "Not bad. You've got grit. If your mana's broken, then build strength with your body. Forge your own core."
---
The sun began to set, and everyone gathered near the garden fountain.
Virel's hair was soaked in sweat, his arms trembling but his eyes burned with quiet determination.
Darius smiled faintly. "You've got a long way to go, son. But today… you did well."
Virel looked up at the fading sky, clenching his fists.
No mana, no problem.
If the world says I can't become a warrior... I'll prove them wrong.