Snowfall hissed as it met the hot flames of braziers lining the training grounds. From the balcony above, cloaked figures of House Rivain watched in silence as the soon-to-be heir of Rivain unsheathed a silver sword from his side. Even at only thirteen, he was already much taller and stronger than most boys in Elysiam, with unmatched combat skills.

  Cassien Rivain stood in the center of the yard donning a royal navy fur-lined cloak, warm breath rising in steady clouds of the frozen air. The sides of the training grounds were lined with spectators, Rivain foot soldiers, and elite knights watching in eager anticipation. It was a rite of passage to beat a knight at their own expertise, signaling their readiness to enter active combat when needed.

  Across from him, a knight twice his size raised his blade.

  "Ready?" the knight asked, grinning.

  Cassien nodded once.

  The clash came swift. Metal rang. The knight pressed hard, gritting his teeth. Cassien did not flinch. He moved like frigid water - cold, clean, inevitable. He ground the edge of the blade down to the hilt as his body swept sideways, using the momentum of his body to tear the sword from the knight’s hands. Innate magical power flowed through his veins, invigorating his muscles with more strength to overpower the experienced, grown adult. The heavy blade suspended in the air before it clattered uselessly along the ground.

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  The fight ended in seconds.

  Cassien's blade swung towards the back of the knight’s neck, stopping a hair’s breadth away as the man froze in an unguarded stance. The crowd did not cheer - but some allowed the corners of their mouths to lift. Cassien pulled back and he shoved the knight with his foot, grunting as he hit the ground on his belly. Only then did the crowd applaud with approval; after all, Rivain’s first rule was “no enemy was defeated until a weapon lies empty handed.”

  The prodigy turned his back as he sheathed his sword, stepping away. The crowd watched with frozen breaths as the knight lunged forward with a final swing of a gauntlet fist. Cassien ducked without so much as turning, relying on pure instinct and combat-sense, as he leaned his body downward. His right leg swept out behind him and collided into the man’s ankle, knocking him off balance. In a single, swift motion, he unsheathed his sword once more with the tip nicking the skin of the combatant. It had been a cocky move to walk away so soon, but one that certainly paid off.

  The knight stared wide eyed at the midnight-haired child standing above him, gleaming sword pressed against his throat as frost slowly began to creep up from the child’s hand onto the blade. Even the magical frost that made its way down the metal did not compare to the chill of the silent amber eyes of Cassien Rivain.

  The crowd’s roars amplified as the horn signaling Cassien’s victory was official, allowing him to step back properly this time.

  Rivain’s first rule had a second part that some forgot, resulting in forfeiting their pride and even their lives: “foolishness is the one who turns before no breath remains.”