For a while the three of them sat in silence.
The arena above had grown louder again. A fight must have started, because the crowd roared in long rolling waves that shook dust from the stone ceiling.
Kael leaned his head back against the wall.
The warmth in his chest moved quietly now, like a slow current under still water.
He listened to it for a moment.
Then looked back at the gray-bearded mage.
"You keep teaching me things," Kael said.
The man raised an eyebrow.
"That's what teachers do."
Kael tilted his head.
"…what's your name?"
The question hung there for a moment.
The old mage rubbed his beard slowly, like he hadn't been asked that in a long time.
Garrick looked over too.
"Yes," he said quietly. "What is it?"
The man let out a small breath.
"Most people down here don't bother with names."
Kael shrugged.
"I do."
The mage studied the boy for a moment longer.
Then he said it.
"…Edrin Valerius."
The name fell into the cage like a stone into deep water.
Garrick froze.
The reaction was immediate.
Kael noticed it first.
"Dad?"
Garrick was staring at the man now.
Not casually.
Not like before.
Like he had just seen a ghost.
"…Valerius?" Garrick said slowly.
The old mage's eyes flicked up.
"You've heard it."
Garrick let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh.
"Heard it?"
Kael looked between them.
"…what?"
Garrick leaned forward, studying the gray-bearded man's face again.
The years had changed him.
The beard.
The scars.
The thinness that came from too many years in chains.
But the eyes were the same.
"You taught at the Royal Academy."
Edrin nodded once.
"Yes."
Garrick shook his head slowly.
"You were one of the Arch Instructors."
Kael blinked.
"…what's that?"
Garrick answered without taking his eyes off the man.
"One of the highest ranking mage scholars in the capital."
Kael's eyes widened.
"…seriously?"
Edrin gave a small shrug.
"Was."
Garrick rubbed his face.
"I remember your lectures."
Kael turned sharply.
"You went to his school?"
"No."
Garrick shook his head.
"But knights stationed in the capital trained alongside the academy sometimes."
His gaze returned to the mage.
"You gave the lecture on unstable affinities."
Edrin smiled faintly.
"That one caused a lot of arguments."
Garrick let out a quiet breath.
"You warned the council that rare affinities were being mishandled by some one of high position."
Edrin's smile faded slightly.
"Yes."
Kael leaned forward now.
"…what happened?"
The old mage looked down at the metal collar resting against his throat.
"The council didn't like the warning."
Garrick's jaw tightened.
"They silenced you."
Edrin nodded.
"Someone did,not the whole council itself."
Kael frowned.
"Someone put you here?"
"No."
The mage's voice stayed calm.
"I was captured later."
"On the road."
"Sold."
Kael looked down at the collar again.
"…and they put that on you."
"Yes."
Garrick leaned back against the wall slowly.
The realization was still settling in.
"You were one of the most respected mana scholars in the kingdom."
Edrin gave a small laugh.
"Respect fades quickly when politics get involved, but most assume I disappeared."
Kael tilted his head.
"…so you're famous."
The old mage grinned slightly.
"Not down here."
The gray beard shifted as he leaned forward again.
"But I suppose once upon a time… yes."
Kael stared at him.
"…and now you're stuck in a cage with us."
Edrin shrugged.
"Life is strange."
Garrick looked over at Kael.
"You have no idea how rare it is to meet someone like him."
Kael blinked.
"…rarer than lightning?"
Edrin chuckled.
"Probably."
The boy leaned back against the wall again, absorbing that.
An arch instructor.
From the capital academy.
The same capital where his father had once been a knight.
And now the man was sitting in the dirt beside him, chained in the same pit.
Kael looked down at his chest again.
The lightning inside him stirred faintly.
Then he glanced back up at the mage.
"…so if anyone knows how to not die from lightning…"
Edrin smiled.
"…it's probably me or your father."
The storm inside Kael pulsed quietly.
And for the first time since his mana had awakened—
He had a real teacher.
For a while Kael just stared at him.
The arena noise above rumbled like distant thunder, but the cage itself had gone quiet again. Fighters rested against the walls, saving strength. Torches flickered along the corridor, throwing slow shadows across the bars.
Kael's eyes stayed locked on the gray-bearded man across from him.
"…wait."
Edrin raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"You're that kind of teacher like teaching teacher?"
The old mage rubbed his beard slowly.
"I was."
Kael blinked once.
Then twice.
And suddenly the weight that had been sitting on his shoulders for weeks cracked open just a little.
"You have to teach me."
The words came out fast.
Too fast.
Edrin blinked.
"…that was quick."
Kael leaned forward on his knees.
"No seriously. Like real lessons."
His eyes were bright now.
Not cold.
Not distant like they had been after the arena.
Just a kid again for a moment.
"Please."
Garrick watched quietly from beside him.
The change in his son was obvious.
Edrin studied the boy.
"You understand where we are."
Kael nodded.
"The pits."
"Yes."
"And people try to kill me there."
"Yes."
Kael pointed at his chest.
"Exactly. That's why I need lessons."
Edrin sighed slowly.
"You make a persuasive argument."
Kael brightened instantly.
"So that's a yes?"
"Not yet."
Kael groaned.
"Come on."
Edrin leaned back against the bars.
"I have a mana collar around my neck."
Kael nodded quickly.
"I know."
"That means I cannot demonstrate spells."
"That's okay."
Edrin raised an eyebrow.
"You can still explain stuff."
He stared at the kid for a long moment.
"…you're serious."
Kael nodded.
"You said lightning is dangerous."
"It is."
"You said it can burn you up."
"It can."
Kael tapped his chest again.
"So teach me how not to burn up."
The cage went quiet again.
Even the distant fighters nearby had begun listening.
Garrick looked between them.
Then gave a small shrug.
"I tried to tell him the same thing."
Edrin's eyes drifted back to Kael.
The boy was waiting.
Hopeful.
Eager.
Despite the scars.
Despite the arena.
Still a child somewhere under all of it.
Edrin exhaled slowly.
"Fine."
Kael froze.
"…really?"
"Yes."
Kael's face lit up instantly.
"YES."
A few fighters nearby chuckled quietly.
Edrin held up a finger.
"Condition."
Kael straightened.
"What?"
"You listen."
Kael nodded immediately.
"I do that."
"Always."
"…most of the time."
Edrin narrowed his eyes.
"When I say stop, you stop."
Kael nodded again.
"Deal."
"Because lightning," Edrin continued calmly, "is not a gentle affinity."
Kael tilted his head.
"Yeah I noticed."
Edrin pointed toward the arena tunnel.
"You forced it."
Kael nodded.
"My eyes glowed."
"Yes."
"That was cool."
"That was dangerous."
Kael's grin faded slightly.
"Oh."
Edrin leaned forward.
"Lightning does not like being forced."
Kael frowned.
"…it felt like a storm."
Edrin nodded.
"That is exactly what it is."
He tapped the stone floor with one finger.
"You can guide a storm."
"You can ride a storm."
"But if you try to chain it…"
He snapped his fingers.
"It will break you."
Kael swallowed slightly.
"…okay."
Then his curiosity popped right back up.
"So what do I do instead?"
Edrin smiled faintly.
"That's lesson two."
Kael leaned forward again.
"When do we start?"
Edrin nodded toward the boy's chest.
"You already started."
Kael blinked.
"…what?"
"Feeling it."
"The current."
"The warmth."
"That was lesson one."
Kael sat back slowly.
"Oh."
Then his grin came back.
"Do I get homework?"
Edrin stared at him.
"…you are a strange child."
Kael shrugged happily.
"I'm my fathers child."
Garrick let out a quiet laugh beside him.
And for the first time in a long time, the cage didn't feel quite as suffocating.
Because somewhere beneath the arena…
A fallen academy mage had just taken on a new student.
And that student happened to carry a storm inside his chest.
The arena above them eventually quieted.
Crowds always did the same thing. They roared like thunder for hours, demanding blood and spectacle, and then slowly the noise faded into the distant murmur of drunken voices and clinking coin as people stumbled home.
Down in the cages, night meant something different.
It meant the guards walked the corridors less often.
It meant the torches burned lower.
And it meant the fighters who survived another day finally had time to breathe.
Kael sat cross-legged in the dirt, staring at his hands.
For a long time he said nothing.
Then he looked up at Edrin again.
"…okay."
The mage raised an eyebrow.
"Okay?"
"You said lesson two."
Edrin sighed softly.
"You are persistent."
Kael shrugged.
"I get that a lot."
"That tends to motivate people."
Garrick shook his head quietly beside them.
"Storm and stubbornness. Terrible combination."
Kael ignored him.
"Come on."
Edrin studied the boy for a moment longer.
Then he shifted slightly against the bars.
"Fine."
Kael sat up straighter instantly.
"Lightning mana is not like fire or water," Edrin said calmly. "Those affinities move slowly. They gather. They build."
He tapped his chest lightly.
"Lightning moves fast."
Kael nodded.
"Yeah."
"It travels through paths."
"Paths?"
"Currents."
The old mage drew a slow line in the dirt with his finger.
"Your body has channels. Mana flows through them the same way rivers flow through valleys."
Kael leaned closer.
"And lightning?"
Edrin's finger moved faster now.
"Lightning doesn't like winding rivers."
He tapped the dirt sharply.
"It wants the shortest path."
Kael blinked.
"…like when lightning hits trees?"
"Exactly."
"It chooses the fastest road."
Kael looked down at his chest.
"So when I forced it…"
"You tried to shove a storm through channels that weren't ready."
Kael winced slightly.
"That's why it hurt."
Edrin nodded.
"And why your eyes glowed."
Kael tilted his head.
"That part was still kinda cool."
Garrick sighed.
Edrin ignored the comment.
"Instead of forcing the storm," the mage continued, "you listen to it."
Kael frowned.
"…listen how?"
"Close your eyes."
Kael did.
Immediately.
Edrin chuckled.
"You trust instructions very quickly."
Kael kept his eyes shut.
"Less talking more teaching."
The mage rubbed his beard.
"Fair enough."
"Now breathe."
Kael inhaled slowly.
"Again."
Another breath.
"Feel your chest."
Kael frowned slightly.
"…I feel my ribs."
"Deeper."
The boy breathed again.
The cage had grown quiet now.
Even the fighters nearby were listening.
Kael sat still.
For a moment nothing happened.
Then—
There it was.
That faint warmth again.
Not big.
Not violent.
Just a flicker.
Like distant thunder behind clouds.
"…I feel it," Kael whispered.
Edrin nodded.
"Good."
Kael's breathing slowed.
The warmth shifted slightly.
Moved.
Like something stretching after sleep.
"…it's moving."
"Do not grab it."
Kael's eyes stayed closed.
"I won't."
The current drifted downward through his chest.
Then faded again.
Kael opened his eyes.
"…it left."
Edrin shook his head.
"No."
"It's resting."
Kael frowned.
"Storms rest?"
"All storms do."
The boy leaned back slightly.
Thinking.
"So… I just keep doing that?"
"Every night."
Kael nodded slowly.
"I can do that."
Garrick watched the exchange carefully.
Then asked quietly,
"And what happens when he learns control?"
Edrin looked at Kael.
Then toward the arena tunnel.
"When he stops fighting the storm…"
A faint smile crossed the old mage's face.
"It will start fighting for him."
Kael's eyes widened.
"…that sounds useful."
Edrin chuckled.
"It will also be terrifying."
Kael grinned.
"Good."
The mage shook his head.
"You are definitely Garrick's son."
Kael leaned back against the wall again, already closing his eyes.
Trying to feel the current once more.
And deep inside his chest—
The storm flickered again.
Small.
Quiet.
Waiting.
For a while the cage stayed quiet again.
Most of the fighters had laid down against the walls, conserving what little strength they had. The torches in the corridor burned lower now, their light dim and orange against the stone.
Kael still sat with his eyes closed.
Breathing slowly.
Feeling for that faint warmth again.
It flickered once… then slipped away.
His eyes opened.
"…huh."
Edrin glanced at him.
"What."
Kael tilted his head, staring down at his hands like he was studying a puzzle.
"You said lightning wants the fastest path."
"That's correct."
"And the channels in the body are like rivers."
"Yes."
Kael's brow furrowed.
"…but rivers change."
Edrin paused.
"That is also correct."
Kael looked up again, thinking out loud now.
"What if the problem isn't the lightning."
Edrin raised an eyebrow.
"Explain."
Kael gestured vaguely toward himself.
"What if the channels are just too slow."
The mage leaned forward slightly.
"Go on."
Kael's eyes had that same focused look Garrick recognized from when the boy used to take apart tools in the forge just to see how they worked.
"What if I make them stronger."
Garrick frowned slightly.
"How."
Kael tapped his chest again.
"With mana."
Edrin's beard shifted as he leaned in.
"You want to reinforce the channels."
Kael nodded slowly.
"Yeah."
Then he kept going.
"But not just the main ones."
He gestured to his arms.
"The small ones too."
"The ones that run through your muscles."
His fingers moved down toward his legs.
"Through nerves."
"Through veins."
"Everywhere."
The cage had gone very still now.
Edrin stared at him.
"…you're describing full-body channel reinforcement."
Kael shrugged slightly.
"Is that a thing?"
The mage exhaled slowly.
"Yes."
"…but not for beginners."
Kael frowned.
"…why."
Edrin tapped the floor once.
"Because you would have to feel every current in your body."
Kael nodded.
"Yeah."
"Then push mana through them."
"Yeah."
"And do it quickly enough that your channels don't burn when the lightning surges."
Kael tilted his head.
"…yeah."
Edrin stared at him another moment.
Then muttered under his breath,
"By the gods."
Garrick looked between them.
"What."
Edrin pointed at the boy.
"He just described one of the control techniques in advanced mana theory."
Kael blinked.
"…oh."
The mage leaned back against the bars slowly.
"And you came up with it in five minutes."
Kael scratched the back of his head.
"I was just thinking."
Garrick rubbed his face.
"You're seven."
Kael shrugged.
"I get bored."
Edrin let out a quiet laugh.
"That's not boredom."
He pointed at Kael again.
"That's instinct."
The boy frowned slightly.
"…is it a bad idea?"
The old mage thought about it.
Then shook his head.
"No."
Kael brightened.
"So I can try it."
Edrin immediately raised a finger.
"No."
Kael groaned.
"Why not?"
"Because if you try to push lightning through untrained channels…"
He tapped the stone floor.
"You won't burn them."
Kael blinked.
"…what happens then?"
Edrin looked him straight in the eyes.
"You'll rupture them."
Garrick stiffened slightly.
The mage continued calmly.
"Muscle spasms."
"Nerve damage."
"Your heart might stop."
Kael blinked slowly.
"…oh."
Then he thought again.
"…but if I go slow."
Edrin pointed at him.
"That part."
"Slow."
Kael leaned forward again.
"So I learn every path first."
"Yes."
"Then strengthen them little by little."
"Yes."
"And only surge lightning once they can handle it."
Edrin nodded slowly.
"That would be the safe way."
Kael grinned.
"That's what I meant."
Garrick stared at his son.
"You did not explain it that calmly a minute ago."
Kael shrugged again.
"I was thinking out loud."
Edrin rubbed his beard thoughtfully.
"You know…"
Kael looked up.
"What."
"You might survive lightning."
Kael grinned wider.
"Good."
The mage's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…which makes you far more dangerous than the men running this pit realize."
Kael leaned back against the wall again.
His eyes slowly closing.
"…good."
And deep inside his chest—
The storm stirred again.
A little brighter this time.
Listening.
Time moved strangely beneath the arena.
Days blurred.
Weeks folded into each other.
And eventually… years passed.
⸻
Kael stopped counting the fights after the first hundred.
At first he had tried to remember them.
Every opponent.
Every mistake.
Every lesson.
But the pit did not care about memory.
It only cared about survival.
So Kael stopped thinking about the numbers.
He only thought about the next movement.
The next breath.
The next strike.
⸻
By the time three winters had passed above the city…
Kael was no longer the small boy dragged into the cages.
He was ten.
And the arena had carved that fact into him.
He had grown quickly. Hunger and constant fighting had stretched his body taller than most boys his age. The round softness of childhood had long since vanished from his face.
His jaw had begun to sharpen.
His shoulders had grown lean and hard with muscle built from endless battles.
Scars crossed his skin in thin pale lines.
Forearms.
Shoulders.
Ribs.
Proof of every mistake the arena had punished him for.
His hair had grown uneven over time.
Not by choice.
Every few weeks, after a fight, Kael would take the same blade he had used in the sand and saw the worst of it off himself.
Short.
Practical.
Out of his eyes.
No one in the pits cared how it looked.
⸻
But the biggest change wasn't his body.
It was the silence.
The boy who had once asked a hundred questions in a single afternoon had grown quiet.
Not completely.
But close.
Kael spoke when he needed to.
When Edrin corrected him.
When Garrick forced him to answer.
When a guard barked an order.
Otherwise… he listened.
Watched.
Calculated.
The arena had taught him that words wasted energy.
And energy meant survival.
⸻
The tall man who owned them had noticed the change long before the others did.
At first Kael had been entertainment.
A novelty.
A small boy surviving against teenagers.
Then the novelty turned into profit.
The crowd loved watching him.
Loved the way the small fighter moved faster than anyone expected.
Loved the flash of blue lightning in his eyes when the storm stirred inside him.
But as the years passed…
Something else appeared.
Efficiency.
Kael didn't move wildly anymore.
He didn't panic.
He didn't chase.
He simply waited.
And when the moment opened—
He struck.
Fast.
Precise.
Deadly.
Most fighters took years to learn that kind of control.
Kael learned it before he was ten.
⸻
Mana had changed too.
In the beginning it had been wild.
Violent.
Like lightning crashing through dry branches.
Now…
It flowed.
Kael had spent countless nights sitting against the stone wall beside Edrin, eyes closed, breathing slowly.
Listening.
Mapping every current inside his body.
The mage had guided him patiently.
Again and again.
"Find the channels."
"Strengthen them."
"Never force the storm."
Kael had followed every word.
Little by little he had reinforced the paths.
Muscles.
Nerves.
Veins.
Tiny threads of mana weaving strength through his body.
Now when the lightning came…
It didn't explode.
It moved.
Through him.
With him.
Speed.
Balance.
Reaction.
Sometimes the storm only lasted seconds.
Sometimes longer.
But it no longer burned him the way it once had.
⸻
One night after a fight, Kael sat in the cage quietly watching the rats scurrying across the room.
The sound tapped softly through the chamber.
Garrick watched him.
For a long time.
Then he finally spoke.
"You're different."
Kael didn't look up.
"Yeah."
"You don't talk much anymore."
Kael shrugged slightly.
"Nothing to say."
Across the cage, Edrin watched the boy carefully.
The mage had seen many students in his lifetime.
Talented ones.
Brilliant ones.
Reckless ones.
But Kael was something different.
Not because of the lightning.
Because of the quiet.
Because the storm inside him no longer raged wildly.
It waited.
Patient.
Controlled.
And storms that learned patience…
Were the most dangerous kind.
Edrin finally spoke.
"You're getting good."
Kale hummed
"…I'm getting better."
Above them the arena crowd began roaring again.
Another fight.
Another death.
Kael stood slowly.
Tall now for a boy his age.
The guards were already coming.
"Next match!"
Kael rolled his shoulders once.
His eyes were calm.
Cold.
Collected.
And deep inside his chest—
The lightning waited.
Quiet.
Ready.
The iron gate groaned open.
Torchlight spilled into the cage.
"Next match!"
The guard's voice echoed through the chamber as keys rattled against the bars. Fighters shifted slowly around the room, some lifting their heads, others not even bothering. The arena above had already started roaring again, the crowd sensing fresh blood coming.
Kael stood.
He didn't rush.
He never rushed anymore.
Years in the pit had taught him that rushing wasted breath, wasted strength, wasted thought. Everything here was measured.
He rolled his shoulders once.
His knives hung loosely at his sides as the guard unlocked the cage door. They didn't care that he kept them on himself anymore, they knew he was tamed.
Chains clinked.
"Move."
Kael stepped out.
His father had stopped giving long speeches before fights years ago. There were no words left to say.
Still, as Kael passed the bars, Garrick spoke softly.
"Keep your feet."
Kael nodded once.
"I will."
Edrin's voice followed from the back of the cage.
"Watch their shoulders."
Kael glanced back only briefly.
"…always."
Then the guards pushed him down the corridor.
⸻
The tunnel to the arena had not changed.
Stone walls slick with moisture.
Torches burning low and smoky.
The distant thunder of thousands of voices waiting above.
The sand always smelled the same too.
Blood.
Iron.
Sweat.
It drifted through the iron gate before he even stepped inside.
The referee was already standing in the center when Kael walked out.
The crowd noticed him immediately.
The cheers rolled down like a wave.
The small lightning fighter.
They loved him now.
Loved the way he moved.
Loved the way older fighters underestimated him.
Loved the blue flicker in his eyes when the storm woke.
Kael ignored them.
His boots pressed into the warm sand as he walked toward the center.
Across the arena another gate opened.
A girl stepped out.
She was taller.
Older.
Fourteen, maybe fifteen.
Her build was strong, not bulky, the kind of muscle that came from surviving many fights. Old scars marked her arms. One crossed her collarbone.
Her dark hair had been chopped unevenly with a blade, much like Kael's.
She held a short sword.
The moment her eyes landed on Kael, something flickered across her face.
Surprise.
The crowd laughed.
They liked when the older fighters realized who they were facing.
The referee raised a hand.
" death match!"
The crowd screamed approval.
Kael's eyes never left the girl.
She looked tired.
Not weak.
Not slow.
Just tired.
Like someone who had been fighting too long.
The referee dropped his hand.
"Fight!"
She moved first.
Her sword came fast.
A diagonal slash aimed at his shoulder.
Kael stepped sideways, the blade cutting through the air where he had been standing a heartbeat earlier. Sand shifted beneath his boots as he pivoted, knife flashing forward.
The blade sliced across her thigh.
Not deep.
But enough.
Blood appeared instantly.
The crowd roared.
The girl hissed through her teeth and came at him again.
Faster this time.
Her sword whistled through the air toward his ribs.
Kael ducked under it and drove his shoulder into her chest.
They both stumbled through the sand.
She recovered quicker.
The sword swung again.
Kael blocked with his knife, steel scraping loudly as the blades met.
The impact vibrated up his arm.
She was stronger.
Older.
Used to fighting people his size or larger.
Kael slipped sideways, sand kicking up beneath his feet as he moved out of her reach.
His breathing stayed calm.
Slow.
Measured.
The storm inside his chest stirred faintly.
Not yet.
She rushed him again.
Her sword cut downward toward his collarbone.
Kael twisted aside and slashed across her forearm.
Blood ran down her wrist.
The sword wavered.
He stepped inside her guard.
His knife rose.
One clean strike.
Straight through the ribs.
Into the heart.
It would end the fight instantly.
His arm stopped.
The blade hovered inches from her chest.
The girl's breathing was ragged.
She dropped to one knee.
Her sword slipped from her hand and fell into the sand.
For a moment the arena went strangely quiet.
Everyone knew this moment.
The finish.
But Kael didn't move.
The girl looked up at him.
Confused.
"…do it," she whispered.
The referee shouted.
"Finish it!"
The crowd began screaming again.
"Kill her!"
"Finish the fight!"
Kael stood still.
Because suddenly he wasn't seeing the arena.
He was seeing snow.
White snow.
Red spreading through it.
His mother on the ground.
The knife buried in her stomach.
Her hands shaking as she tried to reach him.
Kael…
The memory burned through him like lightning.
The girl in front of him was kneeling.
Bleeding.
Unable to stand.
Just like his mother had been.
Kael slowly lowered the knife.
"No."
The referee stared.
"Finish it!"
"She can't fight."
"That's the point!"
The crowd roared angrily now.
Coins were being lost.
Entertainment ruined.
Kael shook his head.
"I'm not killing her."
The referee's face twisted.
"You don't get a choice!"
Kael's voice stayed quiet.
"I do."
The guards were already running into the arena.
Two grabbed the girl and dragged her away.
Two more seized Kael.
He didn't resist.
He knew where this was going.
⸻
They didn't take him back to the cages.
The guards dragged him down a different corridor.
Stone walls.
Heavy doors.
Torchlight flickering.
At the end waited the tall man's office.
The door opened.
Kael was shoved inside.
The tall man sat behind his desk, calm as always.
His eyes studied the boy.
"You refused."
Kael stood silently.
"You embarrassed me."
Still silence.
The tall man sighed.
"Hold him."
The guards grabbed Kael's arms.
Another guard stepped forward holding a whip.
The first strike cracked through the room.
Leather tore across Kael's back.
Pain exploded through him.
He didn't cry out.
The second strike came harder.
Blood immediately soaked through his shirt.
The tall man stood slowly.
"You had one job."
The whip cracked again.
Kael's knees buckled.
The guards held him upright.
"You kill when I say kill."
Another strike.
Blood splattered the stone floor.
The tall man stepped closer.
"Why."
Kael's voice was rough.
"…she couldn't fight."
Another crack.
"She was losing."
Another.
"She was kneeling."
The tall man's voice turned colder.
"This is the arena."
The whip struck again.
And again.
And again.
Each strike tearing deeper.
Until Kael's body sagged heavily in the guards' grip.
Blood ran down his back and pooled on the floor beneath him.
Finally the tall man raised his hand.
The whip stopped.
Kael barely remained conscious.
The tall man crouched in front of him.
"You will kill next time."
Kael's lips moved weakly.
"…no."
The man stood.
"Take him back."
The guards dragged him down the corridor.
Leaving a trail of blood behind them.
When they threw him back into the cage—
His body hit the ground hard.
And didn't move.
Across the bars—
Garrick's face drained of color.
"Kael."
The cage door slammed shut.
Iron rang against stone.
For a moment no one moved.
Kael lay where the guards had thrown him, half on his side, half on his stomach. Blood soaked through the torn cloth on his back, spreading dark and thick into the dirt floor beneath him.
The smell of iron filled the cage almost immediately.
Garrick was already moving.
"Kael!"
He dropped to his knees beside the boy and rolled him gently onto his side.
Kael didn't respond.
His breathing was shallow.
Too shallow.
Garrick's hands hovered for a second before he forced himself to stay calm. Panic never helped wounds. Panic never saved anyone.
"Edrin," he said quietly.
The old mage was already there.
Edrin knelt beside them and looked at the boy's back.
The whip had done its work.
Long red welts crossed Kael's shoulders and ribs, some shallow, others split open and still bleeding freely. A few had curled around his side where the leather had wrapped.
Edrin exhaled slowly.
"…they wanted to make a point."
Garrick swallowed hard.
"They did."
He slid an arm carefully under Kael's shoulders and lifted him slightly, resting the boy's head against his knee.
Kael stirred faintly.
His eyelids fluttered.
"…dad?"
"I'm here."
Kael's voice was barely a whisper.
"…did she die?"
The question hit Garrick harder than any blow.
He didn't know.
He hadn't seen the fight, he didn't even know kael fought a girl.
He didn't know if the guards had finished the girl themselves… or simply dragged her away to bleed somewhere in the tunnels.
Garrick forced his voice steady.
"I don't know."
Kael's brow tightened slightly.
"…okay."
His eyes closed again.
Garrick felt something twist in his chest.
"You should have finished the fight," he said quietly.
Kael didn't answer.
Edrin glanced at him.
"That's not what you want to say."
Garrick's jaw tightened.
"No."
The old mage reached out and gently pressed a strip of cloth against one of the deeper cuts to slow the bleeding.
"But it's the truth."
Kael's breathing shifted slightly.
"…I know."
The words were barely air.
Garrick looked down at him.
"Then why."
Kael was silent for a long moment.
The cage around them had grown quiet.
Other fighters watched without speaking.
Everyone in the pits understood punishment.
Finally Kael spoke again.
"…she was on her knees."
Garrick didn't move.
"…she dropped her sword."
His voice grew thinner.
"…she couldn't fight."
Garrick closed his eyes briefly.
Snow.
Blood.
The memory of Willowmere lived in both of them.
Kael shifted weakly.
"…the man who killed mom…"
His voice cracked.
"…she couldn't stand either."
The words hung in the air.
Garrick's hand rested gently against the back of his son's head.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then Garrick said quietly,
"You're still a better man than most down here."
Kael let out a faint breath that might have been a laugh.
"…they don't want better men."
"No."
"They want monsters."
Edrin finished tying the cloth bandage and leaned back slightly.
"That's the point."
The old mage studied the boy carefully.
"You disappointed them."
Kael's eyes stayed closed.
"…good."
Edrin nodded faintly.
"But next time they will make the lesson worse."
"I know."
Silence settled over the cage again.
Above them the arena roared once more as another fight began.
Down below—
Kael lay motionless against Garrick's leg, blood slowly soaking into the dirt.
But deep inside his chest…
The storm had not faded.
It had only grown quieter.
Colder.
Waiting.
The cage had grown quiet again.
The other fighters kept their distance. Some pretended not to watch. Others watched openly, their expressions hard and familiar with this kind of suffering. Nothing in the pits surprised them anymore.
Kael lay curled slightly on his side, his head resting against Garrick's leg.
His breathing was uneven.
Every now and then a tremor passed through him when his body shifted and one of the lashes pulled open again.
Blood had slowed, but it had not stopped.
Edrin wiped his hands on the edge of his worn sleeve and leaned back against the bars.
"He'll lose too much if we don't close the deeper ones."
Garrick nodded.
"I know."
He just didn't move yet.
His hand rested lightly against Kael's hair, brushing the uneven strands away from the boy's face.
For a moment Kael looked younger again.
Too young.
The sound of boots approached down the corridor.
Slow.
Heavy.
Everyone in the chamber heard it.
The guard stopped outside the cage.
He carried a metal rod.
The tip glowed dull orange.
Heat shimmered faintly in the torchlight.
Garrick's shoulders stiffened immediately.
The guard slid the rod between the bars and let it clatter against the dirt floor.
The metal hissed softly where it touched the damp ground.
"Orders," the guard said flatly.
No one asked whose.
Everyone knew.
"Seal the wounds."
The guard's eyes flicked toward Garrick.
"With that."
Then he turned and walked away.
His boots echoed down the corridor until the sound disappeared completely.
For several seconds no one moved.
The metal rod lay in the dirt between them.
Still glowing.
Still hot.
Edrin exhaled slowly.
"…that's deliberate."
Garrick's voice was tight.
"I know."
"They want him to feel it."
"I know."
"And they want you to do it."
Garrick didn't answer.
He stared at the rod.
The orange glow reflected faintly in his eyes.
Kael stirred weakly.
"…dad?"
Garrick looked down quickly.
"I'm here."
Kael blinked slowly, trying to focus.
His voice was hoarse.
"…what's that smell?"
Edrin didn't answer.
Garrick's hand tightened slightly in Kael's hair.
The boy followed his gaze.
His eyes found the iron rod.
The understanding came slowly.
"…oh."
His breathing grew shallow.
"…don't."
The word was quiet.
Almost lost.
Garrick closed his eyes.
"I have to."
Kael shook his head weakly.
"…no."
"If we leave the deeper cuts open," Garrick said softly, "they'll keep bleeding."
"…I don't care."
Garrick's voice cracked slightly.
"I do."
The boy's eyes glistened faintly.
For the first time since the whipping, fear crept across his face.
"…it's going to hurt."
Garrick nodded.
"Yes."
Kael swallowed.
"…a lot?"
"Yes."
Silence fell again.
The iron rod continued to glow faintly in the dirt.
Edrin looked away.
Even he could not watch this part easily.
Kael's fingers tightened weakly against Garrick's sleeve.
"…I don't want you to do it."
Garrick's jaw clenched.
"I don't want to either."
The boy's voice trembled.
"…they're making you."
"Yes."
Kael shut his eyes.
For a moment he looked very small again.
"…okay."
The word barely came out.
Garrick carefully shifted him onto his stomach.
Kael gasped as the movement pulled the torn skin across his back.
"Easy," Garrick whispered.
His hands shook slightly as he reached for the iron rod.
The heat burned against his palm even through the cloth he wrapped around it.
He hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then Kael spoke quietly.
"…do it fast."
Following his words, Garrick pressed the glowing iron against the deepest cut.
The sound came first.
A sharp hiss.
Then the smell.
Burning flesh.
Kael screamed.
The sound ripped through the cage, raw and helpless in a way no arena fight had ever drawn from him.
His hands clawed at the dirt.
His whole body jerked violently.
Garrick pulled the iron away immediately.
Kael's breathing turned into ragged sobs.
"…again," Garrick whispered to himself.
He had to.
The second wound hissed under the iron.
Another scream.
Kael's fingers dug into the ground hard enough to split the skin.
Tears ran freely down his face now.
He tried to bite down on the sound.
But it kept coming.
Each wound.
Each press of the iron.
Each burst of agony.
Garrick's hands trembled more with every strike.
But he didn't stop.
He couldn't.
The tall man had made sure of that.
The lesson was not just pain.
It was the knowledge of who delivered it.
When the last wound finally sealed, Garrick dropped the iron.
It clattered across the floor.
Kael collapsed against the dirt, shaking violently.
His voice had gone hoarse from screaming.
Garrick pulled him gently back against his chest.
"I'm sorry."
Kael's body still trembled.
For a long time he couldn't speak.
Finally he whispered weakly,
"…I know."
Above them the arena roared again.
Another fight.
Another death.
But in the cage beneath the pit—
The lesson the tall man wanted had been delivered.
Not just in flesh.
But in something deeper.