Mastering the Aura Within

Three days bled into one another, each sunrise a promise of healing while Kian watched from the sidelines of the training yard. The village hummed with renewed life, hammers clanging a rhythmic counterpoint to children's laughter. He watched Arlo, reserved as ever before the other boys, his staff a blur of controlled strikes against the wooden practice swords.

Each thud of wood on wood echoed a pang of envy in Kian's gut. Each crack of wood on wood echoed a pang in Kian's gut, the dull ache of unused muscles and pent-up adrenaline.

Finally, bandages exchanged for calloused hands, Kian stepped into the training yard. Heads snapped, surprised murmurs rippling through the boys like a startled flock of birds.

Arlo, ever the reserved one, merely flickered a smile, a silent acknowledgment to his friend. "Back on your feet, I see," he said, staff tapping the ground impatiently.

Kian's grin was a challenge to the world, eyes sparkling with the thrill of returning to the dance of combat. "Missed me already, haven't you?" he teased, his voice ringing out in the quiet yard.

The other boys chuckled, knowing the playful barb was laced with genuine affection. Arlo, still reserved, simply tilted his head, staff held low. "Just making sure the rest of you didn't forget how to swing a stick," he said dryly.

Bartleby, ever the playful guard, leaned against the post with a smirk. "Enough chatter, lads! Let's see if you can still put on a decent show, Kian. Don't make me regret holding practice today!"

Kian and Arlo circled each other, stick and staff held loose but ready. Three days of watching had Kian itching to join the dance. He lunged, his stick a blur aimed for Arlo's chest. Arlo, ever composed, met the strike with a flick of his staff, sending Kian's weapon spinning.

Without missing a beat, Arlo jabbed, catching Kian off guard, and disarming him completely. The other boys cheered, their shouts blending with the clanging of practice swords.

Kian grinned, snatching his staff back with a laugh. "Well played, Arlo. You haven't gotten rusty while I was out."

A rare smile flickered across Arlo's lips. "Just keeping you sharp, Kian. Can't be sloppy, not with what's ahead."

The playful banter dissolved as they faced off again, the sun dipping below the horizon and casting long shadows. Sticks and staff clashed in a controlled flurry, the rhythmic beat punctuated by gasps and cheers.

Kian, fueled by his pent-up energy, fought with renewed ferocity, but Arlo, the patient strategist, waited for his opening. With a well-timed parry, he disarmed Kian again, the tip of his staff tapping his friend's shoulder playfully.

Kian threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing through the courtyard. "Alright, alright, you win," he admitted, a grudging respect coloring his voice.

Arlo returned the disarmed stick with a flourish. "Just keeping you sharp, friend. Can't afford to go soft before the real test, now can we?"

They resumed their sparring, the sun sinking lower as laughter and the clash of wood etched stories of friendship and rivalry into the twilight air.

Bartleby watched with a knowing smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Whatever challenges awaited them, he knew these two would face them together, their bond forged in countless practice sessions and laughter.

*****

The days thereafter blurred into a whirlwind of sun-drenched afternoons and sweat-drenched evenings. Kian, finally back in the thick of training, quickly regained his lost ground.

It wasn't long before he and Arlo were sparring again, not just during the mandatory sessions but also under the starry and ley line filled sky, each clash of wood pushing their limits a little further.

One particularly grueling morning, Silas, his weathered face etched with a familiar stoicism, led the boys through a series of weapon drills. The rhythmic thuds of wooden practice swords punctuated the air, a counterpoint to the shouts of exertion.

Finally, Silas dismissed the other boys, calling Kian and Arlo aside.

"Alright, lads," he rasped, his voice rough with years of command. "Today, we learn about aura."

Kian and Arlo exchanged curious glances. Arlo, thanks to the forest spirit, knew his own aura was unusual, but lacked the knowledge to explore it without raising suspicion.

Silas continued, "Given last week's events and your ambition to enter the hero academy, the elder and Captain Darian agreed to let you both train in aura manipulation. It's usually reserved for older teens after weapon mastery, due to potential risks."

Anticipation tightened the boys' chests. They yearned to understand and master this hidden power within them. Silas then instructed, "Sit and look deep within, to the core of your being. You'll find a small ember, your aura's heart. Try to draw a strand from it, guiding it through your body, flowing in and out of your limbs. This will strengthen you."

Kian searched inward and within minutes, spotted the ember Silas mentioned. It shone brilliant white to him. After practice, he managed to pull a tiny strand from its core. But guiding it further proved difficult; the energy would slip his mental grasp and return to the core.

Sweat soaked him within twenty minutes, but he wouldn't give up. Thirty minutes later, Kian began to move the energy through his body with less control, but progress nonetheless. Silas, impressed by Kian's rapid progress, saw it as another potential sign of his possible hero destiny.

Arlo's journey inward took a different turn. Instead of an ember, a miniature sun blazed within him, its brilliance nearly blinding. But that wasn't all. Nestled alongside it, he found a smaller ember pulsing with a contrasting energy. He recognized the sun as the source of his golden armor and halberd, both awe-inspiring and intimidating.

The energy could be manipulated with ease, regardless of how he prodded it, but he wouldn't dare risk accidentally summoning his formidable gear. However, the mysterious ember, despite its smaller size, proved much more resistant to his attempts at control.

It took Arlo twice as long as Kian, but he finally achieved a similar level of mastery over this mysterious energy.

Silas beamed at both boys. "Excellent progress," he declared. "Now, onto the next step. Focus on gathering your aura in your palms, like a tiny river flowing back and forth. Over time, a second skin will form, revealing your element's true colors."

Excited, Kian jumped right in. Within minutes, a shimmering golden glow pulsed over his palm. "What does this mean?" he asked eagerly.

Silas studied the light, his smile widening. "From what I can tell, Kian, you possess the light attribute. A rare and powerful element, much sought after by the kingdom."

While Silas and Kian chatted, Arlo focused on the mysterious energy within him. It took longer, but eventually, a similar glow formed around his hand.

Silas was impressed, but a strange look crossed his face when he saw the color of Arlo's aura. Silas himself had an Air affinity, and Arlo's mother, Elara, had Water, though neither mastered it. Though children's affinities were unpredictable, Arlo's aura didn't match either of his parents.

Noticing his father's odd expression, Arlo asked, "What element do I have?" Silas, trying to hide his surprise, said, "Arlo, I… I need to consult the village elder before saying anything. I wouldn't want to say anything rash."

Arlo's stomach dropped. He clutched at the last straw of hope. "Father," he persisted, "have you ever met anyone with two kinds of aura?"

Silas stared at his son, dumbfounded. "No, Arlo," he finally said. "Across the kingdom, no one has been known to possess more than one attribute. Unique elements exist, but only one per person."

Arlo reeled. Why was he different? He clearly had two distinct energies within him. He clung to the hope that time would offer answers.

Finally finding his voice, Arlo asked, "Will training change now?"

Silas, realizing his own distraction, confirmed that mornings would be dedicated to regular weapon training with the other boys. However, they would be excused from sparring to focus on circulating their aura within their bodies. "Mastering this," Silas explained, "will strengthen your aura's power."

*****

Their days became a whirlwind of training. Mornings were spent under Silas's eagle eye, perfecting their weapon drills. Middays were dedicated to strengthening their auras, while afternoons turned the quiet courtyard into a battleground, their clashing wood weapons a rhythmic counterpart to the chirping birds.

Silas occasionally joined the sparring, ensuring they didn't grow too comfortable fighting just each other.

One day, after a particularly intense sparring session, Kian and Arlo found Bastian, the village healer, his face etched with concern. "Mara's awake," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "That girl's got fire in her, woke up bright and early."

Relief washed over Kian, but worry laced its edges. "Tolliver?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

Bastian's smile faded. "He's fighting," he said gruffly. "His vitality wasn't as strong, so it takes longer to bring him back."

Kian and Arlo exchanged a silent vow. As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting long shadows across the rebuilt village, they knew their journey was just starting.

The world beyond beckoned, and they, hearts ablaze and blades honed, were ready to face it, side by side. Arlo still had his mysterious second energy to unravel, but they'd tackle that together too.