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The weight of Expectations

  The battlefield was chaos. Flames licked at the edges of the ruined town, smoke curling into the night sky as screams and clashing weapons filled the air. Ren Armstrong's breath came in ragged gasps, his muscles burning with exertion. His ice-walled defense had barely held against Isabel Thornfield’s relentless flames, and his hands trembled from the strain of maintaining his aether.

  "You look exhausted," Isabel taunted, a cruel smirk tugging at her lips. The flickering fire in her palm reflected in her sharp, amber eyes. "Did you really think you could stand against me?"

  Ren didn’t answer. He couldn’t afford to waste energy on words. Instead, he tightened his grip on his sword, reinforcing it with ice, and lunged.

  The moment his blade met Isabel’s fire-coated gauntlets, an intense heat surged through the metal, forcing him to pull back. He barely dodged a searing counterattack, stumbling as the ground beneath him cracked from the force of her aether.

  He was outmatched.

  But giving up wasn’t an option.

  Across the battlefield, Everett Sinclair was locked in combat with Victor Blackmore, the leader of the rogue warriors. Sparks flew as their weapons clashed, each strike more brutal than the last. Everett’s movements were precise, his footwork unshakable, yet Victor fought with reckless aggression, pushing him back with overwhelming force.

  Celis and Nyx moved swiftly through the battlefield, taking down enemy combatants with deadly precision. Dain stood his ground, fending off multiple assailants at once, his brute strength carrying the weight of their defense.

  Ren clenched his jaw. He was the weakest one here.

  Aether users in Ravenwood were ranked based on their combat efficiency, and Ren had always been at the bottom. He was a reinforcement-type fighter his aether allowed him to enhance his body, fortify his weapon, and create barriers. It wasn’t something worth praising, it wasn’t destructive, and it certainly wasn’t as powerful as Isabel’s raging flames.

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  But that didn’t mean he was useless.

  He just had to prove it.

  Isabel struck again, fire coiling around her fists as she launched a barrage of punches, each one sending shockwaves of heat through the air. Ren barely managed to parry, using his ice to absorb some of the impact, but the heat was draining him.

  "You don’t belong here," Isabel sneered, her flames roaring to life. "You're just dead weight for your comrades."

  Her words struck a nerve.

  For years in his life, he had heard the same thing.

  Too weak. Too slow. Not good enough.

  But Ren clenched his fists, pushing past his doubts. He couldn't let those thoughts control him anymore.

  His breathing steadied. He shifted his stance. Instead of blocking Isabel’s next strike, he dodged, slipping past her guard and landing a freezing blow to her side. Ice spread across her armor, making her stagger back.

  "You talk too much," Ren muttered.

  Isabel’s eyes widened, then narrowed. "You little"

  A sudden explosion interrupted her.

  Everett had finally managed to break through Victor’s defenses, his blade slicing through the enemy leader’s side. Victor let out a pained growl, stepping back, blood dripping from his wound.

  "Fall back!" one of the rogue warriors shouted.

  Isabel scowled, shooting one last glare at Ren before retreating with the others.

  The battle was over.

  For now.

  The Aftermath

  The village was left in ruins. Fires still smoldered, and the air was thick with the scent of blood and smoke. Everett wiped his blade clean, his expression unreadable. Celis and Nyx helped tend to the wounded, while Dain stood guard, ensuring there were no lingering threats.

  Ren exhaled heavily, exhaustion weighing down his limbs. He had survived. Barely.

  Everett approached him, his piercing gaze locking onto Ren’s.

  "You hesitated," Everett said bluntly. "If you had reacted faster, you could’ve done more."

  Ren flinched. He had expected praise. Instead, he was met with criticism.

  "But," Everett continued, his tone softer. "You held your own against Isabel. And that means something."

  Ren blinked. He wasn’t being scolded. He was being tested.

  "You need to train harder," Everett said. "You're not there yet."

  Not yet.

  But that meant he could get there.

  Ren nodded, determination hardening in his chest. He wouldn’t stay at the bottom forever.

  He would become stronger.

  No matter what it took.

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