Elemental Blitz

Rael stood at the edge of the clearing, eyes half-closed, leaning against a fence post that looked like it had been fighting the wind for years and finally lost. His father, Jerman Phaze, stood beside him, the grizzled former soldier folding his arms with the same look of barely hidden disappointment he always wore. “Sure you wanna do this, boy?” Jerman asked, spitting a chunk of tobacco into the dirt. “Seems like a waste of time. These academy types don’t give a rat’s ass about anyone outside their golden cities.” Rael shrugged. “I just want to see what all the fuss is about.” They both looked toward the center of Assex’s small village square, where a makeshift arena had been set up. The recruiters from the Magi War Academy—clad in their fancy robes that screamed ‘we’re better than you’—were barking at the crowd. Their leader, some pompous prick named Baron Hargath, was explaining the tryouts, his voice carrying an air of disdain as he glanced at the assembled villagers. “Look at this lot,” Rael muttered, noticing the way the recruiters sneered. “Bet they think we’re all too dumb to figure out which end of a sword is sharp.” Jerman grunted, handing Rael his sword. “Remind ’em we’re country folk, not idiots.” The sword was nothing special. No fancy runes or glowing edges. Just cold steel, worn from years of use. But it had taught Rael everything he needed to know about fighting: how to make every strike count. He gave it a few lazy swings, watching the crowd from beneath his hood. It was full of farmers, fishermen, and a few young idiots who’d probably piss themselves the moment they saw real magic. The first few fights were predictable. Some local boys tried to show off, throwing spells like they were going to impress anyone. One kid got lucky, conjuring a small fireball, only to get knocked flat by a gust of wind from one of the academy’s junior warriors. The recruiters chuckled. Rael’s fists clenched, but he stayed quiet. “Next!” Hargath called, voice dripping with boredom. Rael stepped forward. The recruiter raised an eyebrow. “And you are?” “Rael Phaze. From Assex.” His voice was flat, almost disinterested. Hargath laughed. “Alright, show us what you’ve got, country boy.” Rael rolled his shoulders, stepping into the ring. His opponent, some puffed-up academy warrior named Theris, strutted in like he owned the place, holding a staff of black iron with a crystal embedded at the top. “Try not to embarrass yourself,” Theris sneered. Rael didn’t respond. He never did. The fight started fast. Theris launched into the air, a burst of wind magic propelling him forward. He swung the staff downward, fire bursting from the tip. Rael barely moved, his eyes seeing the elemental pattern before the fire even took shape. A prismatic shift, red and yellow twisting together. Too slow. Rael flicked his hand, altering the air pattern around the fire, turning it to steam before it could hit him. “What the f**k?” Theris muttered, landing awkwardly. Rael stepped forward, his sword still at his side, and threw a punch, faster than the other boy could react. His fist connected with Theris’s jaw, a solid crack echoing through the arena. The academy boy stumbled back, clutching his face. Theris snarled, summoning a bolt of lightning from his staff. Rael saw the shifting, jagged blue lines in the air, their energy wild but predictable. With a flick of his wrist, Rael manipulated the air around him, absorbing the bolt into the earth. The crowd gasped, but Rael was already moving. In a single fluid motion, he brought his sword down, knocking the staff from Theris’s hand, sending it skittering across the dirt. Theris panicked, his eyes wide. He tried to summon another spell, but Rael was on him in seconds, slamming the boy into the ground, fist to his throat. “I yield!” Theris croaked, eyes wide with fear. Rael stood, dusting off his hands. “That was…boring.” The crowd was silent for a beat, and then they erupted into cheers. Rael ignored them, already heading back toward his father. Jerman watched with a raised eyebrow. “Didn’t even need the sword, huh?” Jerman said with a half-smile. Rael shrugged. “Wasn’t worth the effort.” Before the next contestant could be called, Baron Hargath stepped into the ring, glaring at Rael. “You. Step forward.” Rael sighed and did as told, knowing this was about to get complicated. “You’re hiding something,” Hargath said, his tone accusatory. “No peasant fights like that. What’s your trick?” “No trick.” Rael kept his face expressionless. The baron narrowed his eyes and muttered something under his breath. He was casting a spell. Rael saw the prismatic patterns shifting in the air, a swirl of truth magic twisting toward him. His eyes flashed, and with a subtle shift of the air, he redirected the spell, sending it spiraling off into the sky. Hargath’s jaw tightened. “Interesting.” “Do I pass the test or not?” Rael asked, not even bothering to hide his disinterest. “You pass,” Hargath growled. “But we’ll be watching you closely, boy.” Rael smiled faintly. “Whatever.” He walked away, leaving the baron seething behind him. Jerman clapped him on the back. “Looks like you got their attention.” “Wasn’t trying to.” Jerman chuckled. “Yeah, well, sometimes you don’t have a choice.”