***Over the next few days***

  We drilled not just on combining their magic but on perfecting timing. I had them stand at opposite ends of the training field, facing away from each other, with their eyes closed. I wanted them to feel the rhythm of each other’s magic before they even saw it.

  It was a slow process, and at first, the results were shaky. But gradually, the two of them began to improve. Aaron would ignite his flames, and Elaine would summon the wind just the right moment to guide it. Their focus grew sharper, their movements more synchronized, until they could perform their elemental combinations without hesitation.

  One morning, after a particularly rigorous training session, I stopped them as they were finishing up.

  “Alright, let’s try something different today. I want to see you push each other up. I want you to attack and defend as if your lives depend on it.”

  Elaine and Aaron exchanged a glance, their expressions serious now. No more jokes, no more teasing.

  I set up an obstacle course—a maze of elemental wards, targets, and moving dummies designed to challenge their newfound teamwork. They had to use their combined magic to clear the course as quickly as possible, while also adapting to unpredictable obstacles.

  “Remember,” I warned, “you can’t predict what’s going to happen next. You need to trust your partner to have your back, no matter what.”

  Aaron grinned. “No problem. I’ll make sure nothing gets past us.”

  Elaine simply nodded, her eyes focused. "Let’s do it.”

  The course began, and they were off. Aaron fired bolts of flame at the moving targets, each blast a perfect shot. Elaine’s wind manipulated the trajectory of the fire, making the flames arc around corners, hitting targets hidden behind barriers. Together, they moved as one—fluid, coordinated, and ruthless.

  But then, an unexpected challenge arrived: a set of protective barriers that could only be broken down by a precise combination of elemental forces. The barriers had a quick regeneration time, meaning if they failed, they’d have to start over. The clock was ticking.

  “Get ready,” Aaron said, his voice low as he flared up a ball of fire.

  Elaine’s wind whipped up around him, but she hesitated for a moment.

  “Aaron,” she said, “slow down. Don’t overheat the barriers. We need to target their weak point to get it in one try.”

  “Right,” he said, adjusting. He fired a smaller, controlled flame, and Elaine immediately directed the wind to focus around it, guiding the fire directly to the weakest point of the barrier. The moment it hit, the wall shimmered and then collapsed.

  “Nice,” I called from the sidelines, pleased by their adaptability. “Keep pushing!”

  They didn’t waste a second. They worked their way through the course, each challenge more difficult than the last. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of non-stop action, they reached the final obstacle: a giant elemental construct that would fight back.

  “Aaron, on my signal,” Elaine said, her voice steady as she conjured the wind around herself in preparation.

  Aaron’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve got it. Ready when you are.”

  Together, they charged. Aaron hurled a massive fireball straight into the construct’s chest, and Elaine immediately used her wind to push it even harder. The combination of fire and wind created an explosion of heat and pressure that shattered the construct’s defenses, reducing it to rubble.

  The challenge was over.

  Elaine and Aaron stood, panting, their eyes meeting with a look of triumph. They had done it. They’d succeeded in working together—not just because they had to, but because they had finally figured out how to work with each other, not against.

  “You’ve come a long way,” I said, walking over to them with a slight smile. “Now you’re a team, not just two individuals throwing magic around.”

  Aaron clapped Elaine on the back. “I knew we’d get there.”

  Elaine smiled back, her eyes full of newfound respect for him. “Not bad for a hotheaded pyromaniac.”

  “A pyromaniac who saved your butt,” Aaron teased.

  She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t fade. “You did. I’ll give you that.”

  I watched them, proud of what they had accomplished.

  “Alright,” I said, clapping my hands together. “Let’s get back to the real work. The tournament’s waiting.”

  The following week Mira, Elaine, Aaron and Jace sparred endlessly, sometimes one-on-one, sometimes as teams. I often played the role of their opponent. They learned to think, adapt to unpredictable scenarios, design strategy to use different kind of environments to their advantage, and, most importantly, trust one another implicitly. They were ready for the tournament, but the pressure was mounting. It was time to test them for real.

  Two days before the tournament, I gathered them to make them fight one of the strongest team in the academy.

  “Today, you’ll face a simulated tournament match,” I announced. “You’ll work as a team against one of the academy’s top squads.”

  The class exchanged nervous glances.

  “Who are we fighting?” Jace asked.

  “Team Stalwart,” I replied. “They’ve won every internal competition for the past two years.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Aaron groaned. “No pressure, then.”

  ***Later that day***

  In the afternoon, the arena was set. Team Stalwart stood on one side, their leader—a tall earth mage named Gareth looked annoyed.

  “Seriously, why did headmistress Sherry ask us to compete against the worst team of the academy? Does she think we have too much free time?"

  Upon noticing team Stalwart attitude, the nagging feeling I kept ignoring resurfaced. Something is amiss.

  I turned to my students and asked them telepathically. “If you have been selected to represent the academy, how come you never met team Starwalt before?”

  They looked startled for a moment, then they exchanged sheepish glances.

  Jace stepped forward with a slightly nervous expression, “I will explain everything after the fight teacher.”

  “You better not leave any detail out.” I sent him back telepathically with a warning look.

  The referee announced the beginning of the match.

  Gareth wasted no time, slamming his hands into the ground to summon a massive stone barrier that split the arena in half. The earth rumbled as jagged walls shot upward, effectively cutting off Jace and Aaron from the rest of the team.

  Mira reacted immediately, her own earth magic flaring to life. While Gareth’s barrier was thick and brutish, hers was flawless. She targeted the weak points with uncanny accuracy, dismantling the stone wall piece by piece until it crumbled entirely.

  Meanwhile, Aaron and Elaine took advantage of the chaos to launch a combined attack. Elaine summoned a vortex of wind, funneling Aaron’s flames into a blazing fire tornado that roared across the arena. The heat was intense, forcing Team Stalwart to scatter, their formation broken.

  But they weren’t the best team of the academy for nothing. A water mage on their team countered the inferno with a torrent of water, extinguishing the flames in an instant. At the same time, their illusionist sprang into action, conjuring duplicates of their entire team to confuse and disorient my students.

  “Focus!” I bellowed. “Find the real ones!”

  Jace took the lead. He unleashed a wave of electricity that spread out like a net, dispelling the illusions in one brilliant flash. The real members of Team Stalwart were exposed, and Mira wasted no time capitalizing on their surprise. She raised twin pillars of earth beneath their feet, throwing them off balance.

  “Now!” I yelled, seeing the opening they had created.

  Aaron and Elaine synchronized again, combining fire and wind into a searing storm that swept across the arena. Their teamwork was seamless, their magic blending together in a way that was as beautiful as it was devastating. Team Stalwart scrambled to defend themselves, but Mira and Jace were already closing in, using their respective talents to pin down their opponents.

  The final blow came when Aaron unleashed a concentrated inferno, a blast of fire so intense it left scorch marks on the arena floor. Gareth tried to summon another stone barrier, but Mira shattered it before it could fully form. With no defenses left, Team Stalwart had no choice but to concede.

  As soon as the fight ended, I took my students to a secluded place, set up an anti-peeping ward, and put my hands on my hips.

  "So? What is all of this about?"

  Jace looked at me sheepishly. "Headmistress Sherry made us swear to keep it secret."

  I crossed my arms, staring at him. “Secret from me? The person responsible for preparing you for this tournament? Start talking.”

  Jace shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Alright, alright. Look, when the academy first picked us, it wasn’t because we were the best. It was because… she wanted you back.”

  I blinked, taken aback. “Wanted me back? What are you talking about?”

  Jace glanced at the others, who exchanged uncertain looks before he continued. “The headmistress. She didn’t just pick us to compete. She wanted to bring you out of retirement, to make sure you were involved in the academy again.”

  Aaron stepped forward, his usual confidence muted. “She said the academy needed someone who could turn a group like us into real contenders. Someone who could see potential where no one else could.”

  Elaine crossed her arms, frowning. “We didn’t know all the details at first, but the headmistress was clear about one thing: this was as much about you as it was about us.”

  Mira nodded hesitantly, "we didn't want to deceive you teacher... we just wanted you back as well."

  The room fell silent. For a moment, I just stared at them. Their sincerity was undeniable, their expressions full of determination and a touch of guilt.

  I exhaled slowly, letting the tension seep out of me. “You’ve all been holding this back for weeks,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

  Aaron shifted uncomfortably. “We didn’t mean to lie. We just… we thought if you knew, you might not take us seriously. That you’d see us as some kind of… charity case.”

  Elaine nodded. “But then you started training us. Really training us. And we realized we wanted to prove ourselves—to you, to the academy, to everyone.”

  Mira added softly, “and because we like you, master.”

  Jace looked up at me, his sheepish grin now replaced with something more earnest. “You didn’t just teach us how to fight or use our magic better. You taught us how to believe in ourselves and each other. That’s why we wanted you back, too.”

  I crossed my arms, taking a long look at each of them. “Alright,” I said finally, my tone firm. “Let me make one thing clear. Whatever Sherry’s intentions were, whatever game she thought she was playing, that’s irrelevant now. You’ve earned your place on this team, and you’ve proven yourselves.”

  Their postures straightened, relief washing over their faces.

  “But,” I added, fixing them with a sharp look, “if any of you ever keep something this important from me again, I’ll personally drag you through hell training until you can’t stand anymore. Understood?”

  “Yes, teacher,” they answered together.

  “Good.” I let my stern expression soften into a faint smile. "For now you can go back to your dormitory, I have to talk to your headmistress."

  Before they could react, I teleported directly in Sherry's office.

  As soon as I arrived, I fixed her with a sharp glare. She was buried in a mountain of documents but looked up immediately.

  “Hello, Dad,” she said, her voice calm but tinged with a hint of apprehension. “I wondered when you’d finally show up.”

  I crossed my arms. “You didn’t have to wonder long, did you? Care to explain why I’m only now finding out that this tournament isn’t just about the students, but about dragging me out of retirement? And why you put them in the middle of it without telling me?”

  Sherry sighed. Her calm demeanor had always been frustratingly similar to her mother’s. “You wouldn’t have come if I told you outright,” she said plainly.

  “That doesn’t make it right,” I shot back, my voice rising slightly. “You manipulated your students to get to me. You used them.”

  Her eyes narrowed, her composed exterior cracking just slightly. “I didn’t use them. I saw their potential. A potential only you could bring out. And I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist once you saw it too. Am I wrong?”

  Her words gave me pause, striking deeper than I wanted to admit. Still, I couldn’t let her off the hook.

  "You should have told me, Sherry. Trusted me enough to make my own choice. I would have come back if you’d just… asked."

  Sherry folded her arms. “Would you? After everything? After how you left? You’ve been running from this, from who you are, for years. I couldn’t take that risk—not when the academy needed you. Not when they needed you. And,” she hesitated, her gaze softening, “not when I needed you.”

  I blinked, her last words catching me off guard. A pang of guilt I wasn’t ready to face seized my heart.

  “You should have given me the choice,” I said, my voice quieter now. “Instead, you left me in the dark while they carried a secret they shouldn’t have had to. You didn’t just manipulate me, Sherry. You put a weight on them they didn’t deserve.”

  She flinched. “I know,” she admitted. “For that, I’m sorry. But I don’t regret what I did. Because now, they’re ready. And you came back.”

  I stared at her for a long moment. Despite my frustration, I saw the sincerity in her words.

  “Fine,” I said finally, letting out a slow breath. “But don't ever keep me in the dark like that again or I won't let you off the hook."

  She let out a small breath and smiled at me. "Thank you Dad. I won't do it again, I promise."