A Cub No More

A scent of peace and calmness was filled over the palace.

Amidst it, the sounds of clashes of our wooden swords echoed across the training ground.

Me and brother. Eight years later.

"You've improved, Basil," Brother said, parrying my strike with practiced ease. "You've started to catch me more often. Very good."

Yeah, that's right. I'd grown closer to his level in just five years of training. The thirteen years might have been wiped out, but the experiences they left behind weren’t useless.
Still, this small body of mine couldn’t yet match the strength I once wielded. But I'm certain it would grow later.

So this time, I followed his steps from the very beginning—leaning into my instincts, trusting my senses. Less strength meant I had to be smarter, faster, sharper. Having reduced strength did help me to improve those areas. So it's not that bad at all.

That's why I made distance quickly after that, evading his horizontal sweep, followed by a chuckle on his face.

He lunged at me the next second, keeping the pressure. But I was not ready to fall just yet.

I dashed in return.

Our practice swords collided, and we—face to face. Locked in the tension of the moment.

"I won't let you take the lead, brother," I said passionately, shoving off his hit.

"Let's see how much you will prevent me from doing so." He smiled slightly.

Then we broke apart.

We both leapt backward, maintaining a fair distance between us. I ran to the left, circling him. So did he, mirrored to the right. Only to thrash again at each other.

My arms jolted by the weight of every strike brother made.

But neither of us could gain an opening to turn the tide.

That's when we agreed to let this match touch the greater heights, with just a simple nod. Wordlessly.

"Terris!" he whispered.
And as always, the ground beneath him cracked in spreading webs. A tawny brown aura flared around him. Chunks of soil began to rise, suspended in the charged air. He shifted his stance... set to strike but waiting for me to catch up.

I breathed slowly and muttered, "Styx!" 
A soft swirl of moisture gathered at my heels, and the air grew damp. Cold drops lifted upward like reversed rain, forming spiral sigils in the air around my forearms. A thin layer of mist formed around my feet, reducing friction. 

"Let's begin, Basil," Brother roared from the other side of the training ground.

I took the lead with a high-arching slash.
My steps glided now; sharper, quieter, and faster.

With fierce speed, I stepped past his guard in the blink of a moment. I tried landing the hit, but he was already equipped for that kind of motion. Instead of deflecting the blow, he swept his leg. 

The water that initially helped me move easily was turned against me. His leg sweep and the slippery surface beneath caused me to lose my footing very easily, and I started to fall. 

He raised his sword to hit me in that moment, but...

Sorry, brother. I won't get beaten that easily.

The hydro particles around me... I condensed their radius to the lowest as I could and launched them towards him at high speed. A pressurized water jet blow.

His eyes narrowed, sensing the upcoming danger. He staggered a little and pressed his foot against the ground, stomping hard.

A stone wall erupted from the ground between us, blocking the jets.

We both backed off, panting for breath. 

"It was awesome... Brother... Relying on your instinct... gives you so much free movements..."

We both laughed. Amazed by each other's skills.

His aura flaring with a bright brown, while I felt a wrathing sea within my veins. 

Fighting like this is so much better than just chasing him down. Our practice duels never felt this amusing in those years. But here I am now, almost knocking at the same door as him.

Then we went on it again.

While I dashed, he subtly shifted his stance with a small movement of his torso, and suddenly, jagged spikes of rocks surged toward me.

I jumped in the air, trying to escape. But to my utter surprise, he was there... in the midair, waiting for me with his sword poised to strike.

With no time to react, my instincts took the lead. I summoned a vapor-cloud that blocked his vision. Just long enough for me land safely. 

It's time to payback...

The mist thinned, and we met each other's gaze. 

"Well played there, Basil. But this won't work again." He said, shifting his stance again.

He took the initial lunge this time. But I was ready with my next move.

"Here's my repayment to your spires," With a subtle smirk across my face, I stabbed my blade straight into the ground and hydro pillars spurted from the ground beneath his feet in rapid succession.

As he stepped onto the land, the pillars rose right beneath his footing. But with his incredible speed, he was still able to evade each one of them and close the distance.

It was time to face the blow head-on. No more tricks. No more delays.

I darted forward, blade ready to meet him—

"Heirs!" The sudden voice froze us both.

A royal guard sprinted into the training ground, panting. "The King calls you both. Immediately. It’s urgent."

Huh! It spoiled the fun, but urgency takes priority over having fun. Nothing more to add.

Brother and I exchanged a glance.

His face also had the same kind of dissatisfaction, induced by this disturbance.

Then—

Lowering our blades, we headed to the throne room, where the King of Beaster waited with a new emerging danger.