I was five when magic sparked in my palm.
And just like that, a year went by.
I was six when Father called me to his study.
"You're old enough now," he said, purple eyes serious behind his desk. "The world outside these walls is not kind, Zero. House Kameya has stood for generations because we prepare our children for that truth."
I stood straight and nodded like a proper heir.
Finally. Real training. Not just body conditioning, but also actual combat.
"Your sisters started last year," Father continued. "Lilia took to it immediately. Luna... well. Luna is Luna."
Luna with a sword. That's either terrifying or hilarious. Possibly both.
"Starting tomorrow, you'll join them. And I've arranged something special for you."
He almost smiled.
"A sword instructor. The best I could find."
Lilia stood with a wooden practice sword, stance perfect, eyes sharp. She moved through forms with mechanical precision; each of her strikes was measured, and each of her steps was calculated.
Of course, she's good. She's precise about everything.
Then she extended a hand.
Ice bloomed from her palm. Frost crawled across the training dummies. Within seconds, three of them were frozen solid.
"Magic reinforcement," she said quietly, noticing my stare. "Ice magic runs in our bloodline. Most of us have it."
She glanced at my crimson eyes.
"You might not. Your eyes...You might have something else."
She doesn't know how right she is.
Then Luna exploded.
Literally.
She came running into the yard, grabbed a practice sword, and immediately set it on fire.
"ZERO! WATCH! WATCH WHAT I CAN DO!"
She swung the flaming blade at a dummy. The thing didn't just get hit; it ignited. Luna laughed and kept going until all five remaining dummies were burning.
"SEE?! FIRE! I HAVE FIRE! I'M THE BEST SISTER! SAY IT! SAY LUNA IS THE BEST!"
Lilia sighed. "She's been like this since her magic manifested."
Fire. Of course. Luna has fire.
Passionate and destructive.
Well, it really fits her.
Luna dropped her sword and ran to me, grabbing my hands. "Your turn now! Show us yours! Show us show us SHOW US!"
"I haven't manifested yet," I said carefully.
Her face fell for exactly one second. Then brightened.
"That's okay! You'll get something COOL! I just KNOW it! And if you don't—" she squeezed my hands, "I'll protect you. Forever. Always."
That grip. Again.
She means it.
That's the problem.
Weeks passed.
Lilia's ice grew sharper. Luna's fire grew wilder. They trained together, fought together, and grew together.
And me?
Nothing.
I trained with wooden swords. Learned forms. Built muscle. Studied Father's combat texts.
But magic?
Silence.
I'd lie awake at night, palm raised to the ceiling, willing the spark to return.
Nothing.
Why?
I felt it. That day in the garden. It was real.
So where is it now?
I didn't panic. Panic was weakness.
But I started watching and noticing what my sisters did that I didn't.
Lilia channels through precision. She focuses intent through her blade.
Luna channels through emotion. Her fire rises with her excitement, her anger, her... obsession.
Me?
I was cold. Always cold inside. Always controlled.
Maybe that's the problem.
Maybe magic doesn't answer to cold.
Maybe I need to—
No.
I wasn't changing who I was. Not for magic. Not for anything.
It will come. Or it won't. Either way, I'll become absolute.
Sword. Body. Mind.
That's enough.
For now.
Another year passed.
I was seven when she arrived.
Father introduced her at dinner. "Zero, this is Instructor Sera. She'll be teaching you the blade."
She stood like a weapon sheathed in human form.
Tall. Dark hair pulled tight. Scars on her forearms. Eyes the colour of storm clouds that had seen too many battles.
She looked at me.
Not like Lilia'sanalysingg or Luna's possession.
"You're small," she said.
Well, she was so direct.
"Yes."
"Small means fast. Fast means alive. We'll work with that."
She turned to Father. "Alone. No sisters. No distractions. He trains with me, he trains my way."
Father hesitated. "His sisters—"
"Will kill him with kindness if they keep coddling him. The boy needs steel, not softness."
Luna, sitting across the table, went rigid.
"Who are you to say that?!"
Sera glanced at her.
"Someone who's killed more people than you've met, little flame. Sit down."
Luna's hands sparked.
"LUNA." Father's voice cut through. "Sit. Down."
She sat. But her purple eyes never left Sera.
And her hand found mine under the table.
Squeezed.
The next morning, Sera and I stood in the training grounds alone.
Sera stood with two wooden swords.
"Dual wield," she said.
I blinked. "Both hands?"
"Both hands. Most fighters use one. Leaves them unbalanced, predictable and limited. Two blades mean two threats. Two angles. Two chances to kill before they kill you."
She tossed one to me. I caught it.
"Again."
She tossed another. I caught it with my other hand.
"Good reflexes. Let's see if you can use them."
She drew her own practice blades and attacked.
She didn't even warn me. This was straight-up violence.
I barely blocked the first strike. The second sliced toward my ribs. I twisted, caught it, and stumbled.
She didn't stop.
Strike. Strike. Strike. Relentless. And Unforgiving.
I stopped thinking. Stopped calculating and just moved.
Block. Dodge. Block. Pivot—
One of my blades found an opening.
But I couldn't get a hit in.
She studied me like I'd grown a second head.
"Again."
"Try Harder."
Days became weeks. Weeks became months.
Sera was brutal and relentless. Exactly what I needed.
She never praised. Never softened. Just pushed harder every time I met her standards.
"You're fast. Use it."
"Your left hand drags. Fix it."
"You think too much. Move first, think later."
She doesn't know how much I think. How much I plan. How much I hide.
But sometimes, in quiet moments between drills, she'd say things that made me pause.
"I know that look," she said once. "The one behind your eyes. I've seen it before."
I kept my face neutral. "What look?"
"The one that says you're not really here. That you're watching everything from somewhere else. That you've already decided most people aren't worth your time."
She's too perceptive.
"I had it too. When I was young. When I'd already seen too much and trusted too little."
She sheathed her practice blades.
"It'll keep you alive. But it'll also keep you alone. Decide now if that's worth it."
She walked away.
I stood in the yard, wooden swords hanging at my sides.
Alone.
That's the plan.
...Isn't it?
Luna didn't like Sera.
She never said it directly. But I noticed.
When Sera arrived each morning, Luna would appear in a doorway. Watching. Always watching.
When Sera corrected my form, Luna's hands would clench.
When Sera touched my shoulder to adjust my stance, Luna's eyes would go dark.
One day, she walked right up to Sera mid-lesson.
"Can I train with you too?"
Sera looked down at her. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because you already have fire magic and a family that adores you. You don't need me. He does."
Luna's smile didn't reach her eyes. "I can protect him. I've been protecting him since he was born."
"I know." Sera's voice was neutral. "I've seen you watching. Every day. Every lesson."
Silence.
"He's not going anywhere, little flame. You can relax."
Luna's smile tightened.
"I'm relaxed."
She walked away.
But that night, I heard my door creak.
Luna's silhouette. Standing over my bed. Longer than usual.
Then whispering:
"You're not leaving me for her. Right, Zero?"
I kept my breathing steady.
"You're not."
...
"You're not."
She left.
I stared at the ceiling for an hour.
Luna.
Yeah, I think I'm cooked.
THE END.