The murmurs hadn't faded yet.Knights still whispered. The courtyard still hummed with disbelief.
Sirion Velen, ever the restless one, clapped her hands once, loud enough to snap the air.
"Well, that was fun. But it didn't tell me much."
She spun her staff idly, her long coat fluttering in the breeze.
"His Ether stayed balanced. No surges, no leaks. No deviations in core flow. He's stable—boringly stable."
Elara's brow furrowed.
"That's a good thing."
Sirion grinned.
"For a mother, maybe. For a mage?" She shrugged. "It means I didn't learn anything."
Her purple eyes flicked toward the boy.
"We'll need a stronger push. Someone with a higher skill gap… without breaking him in half, preferably."
The courtyard went silent.
A few knights glanced at each other, muttering under their breath. One or two stepped forward, pride prickling.
"I could spar him lightly—""He needs controlled pressure. Let me—"
"Enough," came a low voice.
Arin Lys — the silver-haired knight who'd stood silent through it all — stepped forward, her hand resting lightly on the pommel of her blade.
"I'll take him."
The chatter stopped instantly.
Sirion raised a brow.
"Oh? The Silent Blade herself?"
"He doesn't need mercy," Arin said simply. "He needs reality."
The wooden sword was handed to her.It looked small in her hand, almost comical for someone of her presence.
The young master, still standing beside his mother, looked toward Darren.The older boy had his arms crossed, still shaken from earlier.
The young master walked over, his small footsteps muffled in the sand.
"Darren," he said quietly, his voice calm, almost detached. "I'd like to spar with you again… someday."
Darren blinked, caught off guard.Then, unexpectedly, he smiled — not out of arrogance, but respect.He bowed lightly.
"Thank you… young lord."
As the boy turned away, Darren's hands tightened on his sword. Next time, he thought. Next time, I'll keep up.
The Second Spar
The air shifted as Arin stepped into the circle.Even without Ether, her presence carried a weight — something that made the sand itself feel smaller.
She rolled her shoulders once, her eyes steady.
"Ready?"
The young master nodded, small hands gripping his sword.
"Begin!"
He launched first — reckless, quick, a storm of motion.Each strike was parried, redirected, and returned with graceful precision.
Arin's wooden blade moved like it already knew his next move.She didn't attack — not yet. She let him move.
The boy darted left, right, forward, slashing with his full strength, but every swing met the same result: the solid, effortless thunk of her block.
Sand scattered. His breathing grew heavier.Still, he pressed on.
Her Ether…He could see it. Flowing. Calm. Stable.
It moved with her — not wild, not leaking. Perfect synchronization.
It's different, he thought. It's… alive.
Then—
Mind's Eye.
The words flickered faintly in his head like a whisper carried by the wind.And then they vanished.
Arin moved.A single step — her sword slicing the air, forming a faint shimmer of compressed wind.
An Air Slash.
The young master's eyes widened. He raised his sword too late—The impact struck, the wind bursting against him like a wave.
He hit the sand, breath leaving his body.
Elara gasped, half-rising, but Sirion's hand stopped her.
"Wait," the mage murmured. "Look."
The boy was already pushing himself up, hand trembling on the sword's hilt.Blue Ether flickered weakly around his body.
Again—
Mind's Eye.
A flash. Then silence.
Arin raised her sword once more, sending another light slash forward.The boy exhaled, instinct guiding him — not away from the slash, but through it.
He deflected, the Ether around his blade rippling like water.
And then the whisper came again — louder, clearer:
Mind's Eye.
He muttered it this time, voice low but sharp.
"Mind's Eye."
His pupils constricted.The flicker of blue turned steady.
The Ether around him didn't burst outward — it curved inward, condensed.Even the knights watching felt it. The air thickened, bending like heat over metal.
Arin's eyes widened slightly.
"...So you can focus it."
She launched a full wind strike, a crescent of air roaring forward.The boy dashed into it — not around, into it — slipping past its edge like a shadow brushing flame.
Every motion he made now was one step ahead of her swing — not reactive, but predictive.
He was seeing the flow of Ether before it moved.Every path, every ripple, every echo of intent.
Sirion's expression turned deadly serious now.Her staff glowed faintly with violet light.
"...He's synchronizing perception with core Ether output," she muttered. "He's not just seeing it — he's reading it."
She raised her staff slightly.
"That's enough—"
But before she could speak again, Arin's sword moved, forming a wind vortex — a light wall of swirling air between them.
The boy, already mid-swing, didn't slow.He accelerated — Ether burst under his feet, a visible push.
He passed through the vortex before it finished forming, wooden blade cutting a trail of blue light across the air.
Arin's eyes widened, but she caught his strike just before it connected, twisting it aside. The shockwave sent both skidding backward.
Dust filled the air.
When it cleared, the boy was on one knee, chest heaving. His sword arm shook violently, but his eyes… his eyes were still bright, locked on her.
"Enough!" Sirion's voice boomed.She raised her staff, Ether dispersing the wind.
The boy's sword fell from his grip. He slumped forward, breathing heavy but conscious.
Aftermath
Sirion knelt beside him, checking his pulse, his Ether stability.Then she exhaled, smirking faintly.
"Alright, fine. You win. I got what I came for."
She stood, brushing dust from her coat.
"Well, Lady Elara, he's... extraordinary. But next time, let's do this somewhere less noisy."
She turned to Arin with a grin.
"I don't drink with swords. Let's talk magic—with a cup of tea."
And with that, the mage waved lazily, her staff dimming, and walked off toward the manor doors.
Arin watched her go, then turned back to the boy.He was already asleep in his mother's arms, faint traces of Ether still curling from his hands like threads of blue smoke.
The Eye That Sees, she thought quietly. What kind of world will you see when you're grown?