Aethelos: The Bastard of Light

The training arena was full. The sound of impacts and clashing auras echoed against the containment barriers. Professor Ágata, a woman with elegant posture and a firm voice, watched the matches closely. Brock Rocket stood on one side of the arena, arms crossed, simply observing Group Seven. · Several fights were happening at the same time, but many students’ attention had focused on one in particular. · Eli versus Jacob. · Jacob was a human with East Chinese Asian features, straight long white hair and a focused expression. He controlled water with precision and fluidity. From the beginning of the match, Eli was clearly at a disadvantage. Every attempt to close the distance was met with pressurized water jets or liquid barriers that deflected his Light attacks. · Eli took a deep breath, trying to remember Brock’s words. · Figure out who you are. · But the only things he felt were pressure and frustration. · A jet of water hit his shoulder and sent him stumbling backward. He slipped on the wet floor and fell to his knees. · That was when the voices started. · “He’s clearly the weakest link in Group 7.” · “Yeah. Lygar is carrying him so he doesn’t get expelled.” · “How does the director not see this?” · “His aura test was mediocre too.” · The words cut like knives. Eli heard every single one of them. He looked up and saw some students laughing quietly, others shaking their heads in pity or contempt. · From outside the combat area, Yana took a step forward, hands clenched. · “Eli, you can do it!” · Lygar, a few meters beside her, kept his arms crossed and his expression cold. His voice came out low, but loud enough for Eli to hear: · “Don’t make me go in there and prove them right.” · Jacob didn’t wait. He advanced again, water spinning around his hands, ready to end the match. · Eli was still on the ground, breathing unevenly. The sentences mixed in his head: · Weakest link. · Lygar is carrying you. · Just another one to the Vindicari. · Strength without identity is just noise. · I wanted to be like my father… · Something broke. · A dense, unstable aura exploded around him. It wasn’t the clean, controlled Light he usually used. It was more aggressive, charged with raw rage. The air around him vibrated. Jacob stopped for a second, surprised by the sudden change. · Eli moved. · The speed was absurd. A golden blur crossed the distance between them. Jacob barely had time to raise a water barrier. Eli’s fist, wrapped in concentrated, furious Light, broke through the defense and struck cleanly into his opponent’s chest. · Light Punch. · The impact echoed through the arena. Jacob was launched several meters backward, sliding across the wet floor until he stopped. The water around him lost its shape and collapsed. · Silence. · Eli stood in the center of the combat area, chest rising and falling hard, the aura of rage still trembling around his body. His eyes were wide, as if he himself hadn’t fully understood what he had just done. · Professor Ágata raised an eyebrow, interested. · From the sidelines, Yana watched with a mix of relief and concern. · Lygar kept his closed expression, but his eyes held a different light. · Brock, for the first time that class, tilted his head slightly, attentive. · The comments had stopped. · But the weight of the words… that was still there. · Eli looked down at his own hands. The Light still glowed, mixed with something darker and more unstable. · For the first time, he didn’t know if that had been strength… or just desperation.