"The Solarian Edge: Blade of the Astral Realm"

Kaius never thought freedom would feel like this. He's not in chains anymore, but somehow, he still feels like he's being dragged forward by something outside of his control. He barely remembers climbing onto that horse, following Eira without question. It wasn't really a choice—more like momentum.

They travel for days, moving toward the capital with the rest of the recruits. The caravan is full of people far more suited for this life than him. Hardened fighters. Eager young warriors desperate to prove themselves. Mages who are treated like something precious, too rare to be ignored. And then there's Kaius, who doesn't quite fit anywhere.

The outpost is loud, alive with movement. Soldiers spar in the open training grounds, the clashing of steel ringing in the air. Kaius watches from the sidelines, arms crossed, trying to stay unnoticed. But Eira has other plans.

She tosses him a sword. A real one this time. No more wooden sticks, no more playing around. "Fight."

It's not a request.

Kaius grips the weapon, feeling its weight in his hands. He doesn't even get the chance to think before his opponent lunges at him. His body reacts—just barely. He stumbles back, barely deflecting the first strike before the next one slams into him, sending him to the ground. The sword flies from his grasp.

Laughter. Someone shakes their head, muttering something under their breath. Kaius pushes himself up, expecting Eira to move on, to realize she made a mistake in bringing him here.

But instead, she just says, "Again."

And so he does. He fights. He fails. Over and over. The ground becomes familiar, the weight of the sword an unbearable thing in his hands. By the time night falls, his body aches in ways he's never felt before. He doesn't eat much. He barely speaks.

One of the younger soldiers, Veylan, sits beside him with a smirk that Kaius already knows means trouble. "You don't belong here," he says casually, like it's an obvious fact. "She'll throw you away when she gets bored."

Kaius doesn't respond. Not because he agrees, but because he doesn't know if Veylan is wrong.

That night, when everything is quiet, he finds himself in front of Eira's tent. He doesn't know why he's here—maybe he just needs to understand.

"Why did you pick me?" The words slip out before he can stop them. "If you're just going to let them knock me down over and over, why am I here?"

Eira barely glances up from sharpening her blade. "Because I'm waiting to see if you'll get back up."

The words settle deep, sharp and cutting. He doesn't know how to respond. So he leaves.

The next morning, she calls him out again. He picks up the sword, knowing what's coming. He still loses. But something feels different this time. He moves a little faster, lasts a little longer. His body starts to anticipate, not just react.

And for the first time, when he looks at Eira, he swears he sees the hint of smirk.