The Protectors: Rising from Ashes [Progression Fantasy | Action-Packed | Epic Battles]

The moment they stepped outside, the atmosphere shifted.

Gravel crunched beneath their feet as mist clung low to the earth. The open training grounds stretched wide beneath the pale morning sky, bordered by tall grass and distant treelines. Weathered stone pillars rose in a loose perimeter like silent guardians, their surfaces etched with faded runes. A cold breeze threaded through the open space, carrying scents of iron, dust, and something faintly metallic, like anticipation.

Elias stopped first.

His sharp gaze flicked across the grounds, locking on a glint of steel in the distance. He didn't speak. His posture said enough. Tension gathered in his shoulders, a quiet edge settling into his stance.

The others followed his gaze.

The once-empty field had transformed.

Rows of combat dummies stood in formation, some carved from wood, others bound in thick cloth and rawhide, shaped with unsettling detail. Their surfaces were untouched, waiting for the first strike.

To the right, an impressive weapons rack stretched beneath a low canopy. Blades of varying lengths gleamed under the light. Polearms rested in neat order. Axes hung beside bucklers. It looked more like a battlefield's prep zone than a training ground.

The group stilled.

Thorne's lips parted, surprise flickering through his expression. His usual sarcasm dulled under awe. He took a step forward, slow and reverent. His gaze swept over the weapons like he was recognizing something long lost. Familiar. Yearned for.

Lyric's fingers curled unconsciously at her sides, her breath catching. She didn't speak right away. When she did, her voice barely rose above the wind.
"Are they… for us?"

Aiden didn't move, but energy coiled beneath his skin like a wire pulled taut. He didn't even blink. His foot edged forward, instinctive. His grin curved slow and sharp.
"About time."

Alice stepped forward with purpose, eyes sharp and movements measured. She crouched near a dummy, her gloved fingers brushing the reinforced frame.
"This was cleaned. Recently. They were waiting for approval."

Behind them, Eddy hung back a little, uncertain.

He watched their faces change. Saw the awe, the hunger, the recognition. Saw the way they shifted like puzzle pieces finding their place.

Then his eyes were pulled toward the weapons rack.

He took a step closer, almost involuntarily. The polished steel caught the light and scattered it like fire. Swords, spears, axes, tools of a world he had never touched, never imagined holding. His expression shifted, eyes widening with unfiltered wonder. For a moment, he forgot to breathe.

He had never seen anything like this.

His mouth parted slightly.
"…Is this normal training for you guys?" he asked, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Aiden turned, a glimmer of amusement lighting his eyes. He clapped a hand to Eddy's shoulder with a short laugh.
"You'll get used to it. If you survive the warm-up."

Cassandra, standing off to the side, had been watching quietly.

Her gaze moved between them, between the natural poise of fighters and the lone human among them. But instead of looking out of place, Eddy looked like he might belong. Not yet in motion, but on the edge of it.

Finally, Cassandra spoke.
"This wasn't a coincidence."

All eyes turned to her.

"Mr. Emberwing gave the order himself. Said you're no longer just trainees. You're ready for something real."

She nodded toward the rack.
"Go on, then. Time to see what all that raw potential looks like with steel in hand."

A ripple of silence passed.

Even the wind seemed to still.

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Then, Cassandra spoke again, this time, directly to Eddy.

"Well, don't just stand there, Eddy. You're part of this too."

Every head turned.

No one had said it aloud before. No one had expected it.

But the words landed like a quiet thunderclap. He was included.

Eddy didn't react right away.

His eyes moved from face to face, then toward the weapons, then back again. His brow furrowed slightly, like the message had reached him but was still trying to settle somewhere in his chest. He shifted his footing. His hand brushed down his shirt, almost reflexively smoothing it out.

He took one step forward. Then another.

Each footfall crunched softly on gravel, too loud in the stillness.

The open field stretched ahead, too wide, too sharp-edged. A breath caught somewhere in his throat.

"It's bigger than I expected," he murmured, not quite to anyone, just into the air.

His gaze found Aiden.

"You all waited a long time for this?"

Aiden's grin held steady, but something in it softened, the usual edge giving way to something steadier, quieter.

"Every damn day."

For a moment, none of them moved.

Then Elias stepped forward.

He walked with purpose but without urgency, his eyes already fixed on the twin curved swords. He stopped in front of them and reached out. Fingers brushed the hilts, then closed around them. The moment he lifted them, they settled like they had always belonged there. He shifted his grip, fluid, exact. The blades arced in a tight pattern through the air. But something in his brow pulled slightly. He turned them again, testing, thoughtful. The lines of his face didn't change much, but something behind his gaze was searching.

Thorne's eyes had locked onto the halberd the moment they entered. It leaned at a slight angle, the shaft worn smooth with use. He crossed to it like gravity had decided for him. One hand wrapped around the handle, the other slid up to the grip. The weapon shifted in his hold. It fit. His body leaned with it instinctively. He spun it once, then braced it against the ground. A short laugh escaped him, low and pleased.

"Now that's more like it."

Lyric moved quietly.

She didn't walk to the rack, she drifted, each step light. Her gaze trailed over the weapons, skipping from steel to leather to wood, until it caught on the pair of twin-bladed tonfa resting in their cradle. Her hands hovered a breath away, as if unsure she was allowed to touch them. Then she picked one up. Then the other. The metal shimmered faintly in response, not flashy, just a pulse like recognition. She held them close, almost cradling them. Her shoulders eased. Her fingers turned one of the blades slowly, like testing its weight against a memory.

"Pretty," Aiden muttered as he passed her.

He didn't stop until he reached the far end of the rack. A glass case housed something longer, coiled, wicked. Steel segments gleamed under the morning light, linked in a twisting pattern that looked alive.

Shardtail.

He unlatched the lock with a snap and lifted the weapon free. It uncoiled in his hands, heavy and flexible. He gave it a sharp flick. The tail cracked once against the ground with a dull thud.

His smirk widened.

"This one bites back."

Alice didn't speak as she moved.

She circled the rack like she was listening to it, letting her fingers skim the hilts one by one. Her hand stopped on a double-bladed staff. The moment she lifted it, the air around her changed. She spun it once, then again, the ends still retracted. With a flick, both blades extended, clicking into place. She held it steady, inspecting it from tip to tip.

"Balanced," she said. "Very."

Only Eddy remained apart.

His arms hung loose by his sides, not crossed, not clenched. His eyes flicked from weapon to weapon, then to the others, then back to the rack. The training grounds felt louder now, fuller. But he didn't move toward anything.

His face wasn't blank. It was quiet. Focused, but turned inward.

Cassandra watched him from where she stood, the wind tugging faintly at the hem of her cloak. She didn't call out, didn't interrupt. Just waited.

When Eddy finally turned, their eyes met.

"Some tools don't call out right away," she said, her voice softer now. "But the Eclipse Heart chose you too. When it's time, the right weapon will find its way to you."

His gaze lingered on the weapons, still distant, still unsure.

Cassandra took a step closer, steady and calm. "For now, you'll train with me. Just the basics. No blades, no pressure. We start where fresh eyes begin."

Eddy blinked, caught off guard.

He shifted his weight, glanced down, then back at her. His voice came out low, almost uncertain. "But… you can clearly see I'm not made for this. Combat, fighting, weapons—this isn't me."

The air shifted.

Lyric stepped forward, her tone gentle but sure.
"Neither was I," she said. "Not anymore. After what happened… I thought I'd lost everything that made me useful." She held up her tonfa, not as a weapon, but as a memory reclaimed. "But I'm still here. Still trying."

Thorne tapped the base of his halberd on the ground. "We're not the strongest of our kind. Not even close." His voice lacked mockery this time, just truth. "Every one of us was doubted. Cast aside."

Aiden crossed his arms, his grin faded into something sharper.
"We're the ones they all expected to fail. Weak links. Bad choices." He glanced at the others, then back at Eddy. "And yet here we are. Fighting anyway. Fighting because no one else would give us the chance."

Alice's voice was calm, but firm.
"You're not the only one who doesn't fit the mold, Eddy. But that's why you're here. You don't need to be made for this. You fight to find out why you're here."

Elias spoke last, quiet but unwavering.
"The Eclipse Heart brought you here. Zephyros needs protectors. It needs us... and it needs you too. Because somewhere inside you is the key to our survival."

Eddy looked at each of them, these so-called misfits, these chosen ones, standing there with their weapons in hand, doubt in their past and determination in their eyes.

He swallowed hard, uncertainty still curling inside his chest.
But he nodded. Just once.

"I'll try," he said. "Even if I have no idea where to start."

Cassandra's smile returned, a little softer now.
"Then that's where we begin. Step one."