Junith's Perspective
When they told me I would be training Adrian, I didn't think much of it at first. When I first knew of him, I thought he is just another prince trying to play hero, I thought. But the moment I saw him, I could feel it, he wasn't like the others. There was something different in his eyes. Calm. Focused. Heavy with thought. Like he was carrying something more than just a sword on his back. Always so curious, always behaved like a gentleman, and just the name of adventure was enough to energise him.
We trained in Norrvyn, a cold and quiet region far to the north. The wind was sharp, and the trees tall and silent. A good place to train. A place where the noise of the world fades, and only the sound of your breath and the weight of your body remains.
I use a spear. And not just because it's long and fast, it's precise. Every movement I make has a purpose. Every thrust, every turn, every strike. I use my magic not to throw fire or ice, but to enhance my body, to sharpen my movements, to become faster, stronger, better. I saw something of that same potential in Adrian.
He was like me. No element. No flames or storms to call upon. But a quiet strength. One that could grow.
He was still healing from his broken arm when we began, which he got while fighting the intruders. His body was slow to respond, and his magic was wild and loose, like wind trying to break free from a cage. I knew this would take time. So I taught him the first step, flowing magic through the body. "It is not enough to have magic," I told him. "You must command it. Flow it through your blood, your muscles, your breath. Slowly. Then quickly. Then shift it from one part to another."
Easier said than done.
Adrian tried. Every day, he sat beneath the tall pine trees, his eyes closed, body still, breathing slow. But the magic didn't listen. Sometimes it stayed stuck in his chest. Sometimes it rushed all at once and vanished. He clenched his jaw, his brow always furrowed in thought, like he was trying to solve a puzzle with no pieces.
A month passed like this.
With constant medical care, his arm finally healed. He could hold his sword again, shakily at first, but it was a start. Still, I waited. I watched him. And when I saw the calm in his movement return, I knew it was time. "Flow your magic into your sword," I told him. He blinked. "I've read about it before… but I've never done it."
"Then start now." He nodded.
Adrian knew a lot. He was the type of boy who read books when others played. That knowledge made things easier for me. He understood what I meant by visualization, by channeling, by shaping the magic to fit his weapon. But even with knowledge, it takes time to turn thought into action.
Every day, he practiced. He sat by the lake with his sword on his knees. He held it tight and focused, visualizing the path of his magic from his heart to his hand, from his hand to the blade. Some days, there was a flicker. A faint shimmer. Some days, nothing. But slowly, steadily, it grew. To help him control it better, I suggested he do small quests for the locals. Nothing too dangerous, finding lost things, helping travelers, guarding caravans. I knew he needed experience outside of training. He needed to understand real situations, how to apply his skills. And every time he returned, he came back stronger.
After two months, he could maintain magic flow in his body with ease. His movements became sharper, his senses keener. The magic in his sword grew more stable. But something still nagged at him.
One evening, I asked, "Tell me. What happened when you fought the intruder?" He lowered his eyes. Thoughtful. Then slowly, he spoke.
"It was strange. In that moment… I could see things. Movements. It felt like I could see everything that might happen in the next second. It wasn't something I saw with my eyes… but it was there. Like I just knew."
He paused. "But I don't know how to control it now." I listened quietly. "You're close," I told him. "Very close. Keep training your magic flow. Work on your reflexes. And keep doing local quests." He nodded, though his eyes still held questions.
By the third month, Adrian had changed. The boy I first met had become someone else. Someone stronger. Not just in body—but in spirit.
Now was the time.
"You need to discover your true ability," I told him. "And learn to use it."
I went to Thaldrik Haildaleom, lord of the north. I asked if he had any knowledge of strange gifts, abilities hidden in one's blood. After much searching, many books, and many discussions, we found something.
It was possible to unlock Adrian's power.
I began new training. More intense. I blindfolded him. Took him into the woods at night. Threw him into situations where he had to feel danger before it came. I sparred with him without holding back. I put him in real, dangerous fights. Situations that forced his instincts to rise.
At first, he struggled. But then, something clicked.
He began to see again. Not with his eyes. But with something else. His body reacted before mine did. His sword moved to block before I attacked. He started flowing magic into his eyes too, trying to sharpen them, focus them, guide this strange power.
His training became longer. Harder. He pushed himself. He even began training to increase his magic reserves—running, meditating, practicing flow under pressure.
And slowly… he mastered it.
Future Sight.
Not a spell. Not something he could turn on and off like a switch. But a sense. A gift. One that let him glimpse a moment ahead. A second into the future. Just enough to dodge a fatal blow. Just enough to strike before the enemy moved. Just enough to turn death into victory.
When I saw him use it in our final spar… I knew. He was ready.
Then came the call.
--
The Rising Heroes were summoned by Thaldrik Haildaleom before entering the corrupted dungeon. A final farewell. A wish of luck. We stood together, silent, as the lord walked through each of them, offering words.
He stopped in front of Adrian. He looked him up and down. At the polished blade. The firm stance. The calm eyes.
"You are not just a noble," Lord Thaldrik said. "You are the prince of this kingdom. Yet here you stand, willing to place yourself in danger. Willing to stand on the frontline." He smiled. "You are brave. I shall name you… The Royal-Blooded Adventurer."
Adrian bowed deeply. "Thank you, my lord. I will not fail."
I stood a step behind, watching.
He had come so far. From a boy with a broken arm, struggling to move magic through his veins… to this. A warrior with Future Sight, with magic flowing strong and steady, a sword that carried not just steel, but heart.
And I, Junith , was proud to have guided him. I am proud of...
Adrian, The Royal-Blooded Adventurer