Aura’s Potential

The sun, a relentless sculptor, chiseled away at the days following Old Man Tolliver's miraculous recovery. Each sunrise brought a fresh canvas of drills, each sunset a testament to the boys' growing strength. Silas, their gruff mentor, was a master craftsman, molding their auras into potent weapons with his seasoned expertise.

Kian, a whirlwind of silver light, danced through the exercises like a sunbeam caught in a playful breeze. His aura, a shimmering cloak, clung effortlessly to his entire form, leaving no corner untouched.

Arlo, finally catching a glimpse of the path before him, inched closer to mastery. Yet, a gnawing frustration gnawed at his insides. He yearned to match Kian's effortless brilliance, but his darkness seemed to have a mind of its own.

He pushed, he strained, but the more he wrestled, the more it slipped through his grasp, a rebellious current he couldn't tame.

One day, during a spar bathed in the harsh glare of midday, Arlo tripped. His halberd clattered to the ground, his dark aura flickering like a guttering candle, yet stubbornly clinging to more than half his body. Despair threatened to engulf him, a cold wave crashing against his resolve.

But then, a shift. He closed his eyes, not in resignation, but in surrender to the quiet tug of his shadow. He stopped fighting, stopped forcing, and instead, listened. He felt its cool embrace, its hushed whispers, a rhythm older than the moon itself.

Adrenaline surged through him, sharpening the world around him. Kian's movements, once a blur of silver, became a predictable dance under his newfound perception. He retrieved his halberd, no longer a clumsy weapon but an extension of his will.

He moved with the shadows, a silent predator, his halberd a blur of dark steel. With a swift, unexpected swing born from the darkness itself, he disarmed Kian, leaving the light-wielding boy speechless for a moment.

Kian, still processing the unexpected turn of events, finally grinned. "Looks like you finally found your groove, golden warrior," he said, his eyes sparkling with respect. The nickname, a playful acknowledgment of Arlo's concealed connection to light.

The title never quite sat right with the villagers, who only saw him as the reserved boy in worn-out leather now controlling darkness. But to Kian, it was a reminder of the golden-clad warrior who had saved him from the hag, a secret they shared like a flickering flame in the night.

Arlo, still gasping for air, raised an eyebrow. "Golden warrior, eh? Thought we'd buried that one behind the oak tree."

Kian chuckled, a rumble that tickled the leaves on nearby branches. "A hero's legend, my friend, doesn't stay buried. It whispers in the wind, it shimmers in the moonlight."

Arlo felt a flicker of warmth at the truth behind Kian's words. "Golden warrior" wasn't just a playful jab; it was a shared secret, a recognition of the sun warrior hiding within. He still had mountains to climb, but he didn't feel chained to his darkness.

It wasn't a weapon to be wielded, but an extension of himself, a pulse vibrating through his very being, humming a hidden song under the moonlit sky. He was no longer just the boy in shadows; he was the master of both light and dark, a warrior dancing to a different beat, waiting for the right moment to unleash his hidden sun.

Silas's gruff voice cut through their silence. "Boys," he called, his gaze sharp as ever. "Kian," he rasped, "your aura control doesn't need further honing. No more drills for you." A flicker of envy sparked in Arlo, quickly extinguished by understanding. Kian couldn't stay stuck sparring while Arlo struggled with his shadow.

Silas turned to Arlo, his gaze softening. "You've begun to grasp your darkness. Focus on honing it while Kian advances to new lessons. Skills that truly harness his aura's potential."

Disappointment gnawed at Arlo, but he knew Silas was right. He watched Kian step forward, anticipation buzzing in the air like a summer storm, while a knot of apprehension twisted in Arlo's gut.

Silas met Kian's gaze, his voice softer than before. "Your light," Silas rumbled, "can heal if potent enough. With focus, you can mend minor wounds, ease aches, and even unleash a blinding brilliance."

Kian's eyes lit up like a pair of captured sunbeams. Healing, blinding – not just dazzling attacks and blinding speed. Light held its own secrets, a different kind of power, subtle yet potent. He couldn't help but ask the obvious question, "How do I do these things?"

Silas shrugged. "It's up to each aura wielder to learn how to wield their power. Some find success through visualization, picturing their aura doing their bidding. I only know these few skills, but I'm sure the Hero Academy will unlock even more."

Kian closed his eyes, focusing on the warmth in his palms. He envisioned healing, pictured his aura mending tears and easing pain.

When he opened his eyes, a warm pulse emanated from his hand, a comforting glow like a miniature sun. It was faint, barely enough to heal a scratch, but it was a start. He was still satisfied.

Arlo, watching Kian's experiment, imprinted the information deep within his mind. He could see how these skills, with his own potent light, could be used with incredible power if forced to. And then, a realization dawned on him.

The golden armor, the one he'd revealed only to Kian, wasn't just a shield. Its radiance, its very nature, explained why it had seemed to heal him.

Curiosity burned in Arlo's chest, but before he could voice it, Silas addressed him. "Arlo, focus on your training. Once you've mastered full-body aura control, then I can share what I know about darkness."

The disappointment threatened to bubble over, but Arlo swallowed it down. Silas was right. He needed to solidify his foundation before pushing into uncharted territory. "I understand," he said, his voice firm despite the turmoil in his stomach.

In his heart, a silent vow burned. He would reach the minimum aura control needed for advanced training soon, within a few days if possible. Then, the secrets of darkness would be his to unravel.

*****

The next days were a blur of steel and sweat. Arlo, fuelled by a gnawing fear of falling further behind Kian, pushed himself to the limit.

His muscles sang with fatigue, his halberd a familiar extension of his arm. He practiced until his shadow aura, once a reluctant companion, swirled around him like a living cloak, responsive to his will.

Meanwhile, Kian, ever the prodigy, mastered the basic level of aura skills that Silas had introduced. His light aura, a dazzling counterpoint to Arlo's dark embrace, pulsed with healing warmth one moment, then erupted in a blinding flash the next. He practiced seamlessly switching between the two, etching the sensations into his memory.

Arlo, however, felt a plateau approaching. He'd managed to grow his cloak without the battle-fueled focus he'd relied on before. His darkness flowed naturally, a current he navigated instead of battling. He was ready for more.

Silas, ever the stoic mentor, had other plans. "One more spar," he declared, his gruff voice echoing in the training yard. "Kian, show Arlo what you've learned."

Kian grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Don't worry, golden warrior, I'll go easy on you."

Arlo snorted. "Easy? You might regret underestimating me."

The playful banter continued until Silas barked, "Enough! Begin!"

As their auras flared, the world narrowed to the clang of steel and the dance of light and shadow. Kian, ever the innovator, unleashed a blinding flash from his shield, hoping to end the fight swiftly.

Arlo, though momentarily disoriented, had anticipated such a tactic. Cloaked in darkness, He felt the familiar sensation of time slowing, a subtle advantage granted by his connection to the shadows. He dove, rolling just as Kian's blade whistled harmlessly overhead.

Arlo had noticed this before. The full-body aura cloak didn't just boost strength and agility; it sharpened your reflexes too.

This was why he hadn't been able to match Kian in their previous spars after the latter mastered his full-body aura. But somehow, the dark aura seemed to go even further, pushing the boundaries of perception in ways he couldn't quite grasp.

The spar raged on, a clash of light and shadow, each blow met with a counter. But then, Kian seized a moment of brilliance.

He feigned a thrust with his sword, drawing Arlo's attention toward his blade. But as Arlo raised his own weapon to defend, Kian shifted his aura, unleashing a blinding flash that erupted from his open palm.

The dazzling eruption of light ripped through Arlo's shadow defenses, leaving him momentarily blinded and vulnerable. His halberd fell with a clang, echoing in the sudden silence.

Defeat clung to him like smoke, but something else flickered in his eyes as he turned to Silas – a burning question that wouldn't be quenched. "What skills can darkness do, Father? You mentioned minor illusions, but what does that mean?"

Silas sighed, realizing the time had come. "Arlo, the truth is, the village knows very little about darkness. Even with Bastian's help, we've only scratched the surface of light's potential, let alone the mysteries your aura holds."

Arlo's shoulders slumped. "But what can it do? What is it truly capable of?" His voice held a mix of frustration and a deep desire to understand the power he was finally beginning to control. He had earned the right to an answer.