Extra's POV: I am the Sixteenth Son

Morning... the only time when the world seemed to hold its breath and stand perfectly still.

Morning... the only time when the air was crisp and clean, untouched by the day's chaos.

Morning... the only time a certain stubborn young boy found peace enough to meditate properly.

Ares sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor of his dormitory room, carrying out his daily ritual like a monk devoted to his prayers. His mana core had finally reached Intermediate rank, the low end of it, sure, but he still counted it as a major victory. Every small step forward was progress, and progress was what separated winners from losers.

The day of the appraisal, he'd noticed that Lysandra was already at the middle stage of Intermediate rank, her magical glow steady and confident. For a moment, jealousy had tried to sink its claws into his chest. But he'd shaken it off quickly. It didn't matter what level she was at, he knew he wasn't slacking, and that was what counted.

Coming into the world of a book he had read, he couldn't just announce himself as the best fighter around. That would have made the whole story boring and predictable. He wanted to earn the best character development possible, which meant taking his training seriously instead of relying on cheap shortcuts.

"Today's going to be a tough one," he thought as he remembered this would be his first class as an official Trainee in the Cradle.

The Initiate classes had been more like warm-up exercises, mostly building up basic stamina and teaching them not to set themselves on fire by accident. Now he had decent stamina, but what he seriously lacked was real combat experience. All the meditation in the world wouldn't help him if he couldn't throw a proper punch or dodge a sword swing.

"Well, this is what I get for being stuck in a hospital bed in my past life," he muttered to himself, remembering how weak and useless his previous body had been.

He thought hard about how the book had described the Cradle's second year, and honestly, he wasn't loving what he remembered. Soon they would be asked to select a class captain, and captains were chosen through either martial combat or elemental combat. Right now, he had no real skill in either area, which was a problem.

"My elements did awaken a few days after we got these black rings," he mused, flexing his fingers experimentally. "I have absolutely no idea how to actually use them, but I can definitely feel the energy buzzing under my skin like caged lightning."

Elemental talents usually awakened naturally once someone climbed to Intermediate rank, but then you had to train like crazy to achieve any kind of mastery. The Eisenklinge family talent was pure elemental control, the most direct way to use mana that existed. It gave them incredible understanding of magical energy, which was exactly why so many people feared their power.

"Back to your usual morning ritual, I see," Roul said with a yawn as he rolled out of bed, his hair sticking up in twelve different directions. He'd gotten used to finding Ares in this exact position every morning, and sometimes late at night too. Roul had even tried joining in a few times, thinking the meditation might be the secret behind Ares' rapid improvement.

'I should ask him for help,' Ares thought. He'd been trying to keep a low profile after all the whispers about his crazy appraisal results, but maybe it was time to swallow his pride and get some advice.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, breaking out of his meditation pose and turning to face his roommate.

"Sure thing," Roul replied, rubbing sleep from his eyes like a confused bear cub.

"How do you actually channel your elemental energy? What does it feel like when you use it?" Ares asked, trying to sound casual instead of desperately curious.

Roul's expression changed instantly from sleepy to shocked, his eyes going wide as dinner plates. He hadn't expected that kind of question. It hadn't been long since Ares had stunned the entire Cradle with his impossible appraisal results, and now he was basically admitting that his elements had awakened less than a month after reaching Intermediate rank. That was crazy fast, even by Eisenklinge standards.

"Well, would you look at that, already awakened!" Roul exclaimed, suddenly much more awake. "I can't really teach you the technical stuff, but I can tell you what it feels like when I use mine."

Roul climbed down from his bed to the cold floor, his bare feet slapping against the stone. "My elements are fire and earth. When I think about fire, I picture rage and destruction, like a wildfire burning down a forest. When I focus on earth, I see a solid wall that nothing can break, steady and balanced like a mountain."

He stretched out his right hand, fingers spread wide. "Now watch this, I'm thinking about a small explosion." He snapped his fingers sharply.

A burst of flame immediately escaped from the snap, small but bright enough to light up the dim room. The heat washed over Ares' face for just a second before fading away, leaving him staring in complete awe.

"That's... that's incredible," Ares breathed, his mind already racing with possibilities.

Roul grinned and gave him a few more tips about visualization and emotional focus before the morning bell rang across the fortress, calling them to their new lives as Trainees.

---

Today's schedule was completely different from Ares' time as an Initiate. No more etiquette classes about which fork to use at fancy dinners, those days were over. Now came the real training, the kind that would either make him stronger or break him completely.

He walked into the main training ground and found the other three already waiting. Sylas stood with his usual calm expression, Lysandra looked perfectly composed as always, and Maelia was bouncing slightly on her toes with nervous energy. They'd all arrived at almost exactly the same time, which probably wasn't a coincidence.

They waited in the crisp morning air for several minutes before heavy footsteps announced the arrival of their new instructor.

The man who walked through the doors looked like he'd been carved from solid granite by someone with anger management issues. He was built like a fortress, muscles stacked on muscles, shoulders broad enough to carry a small building. There was an energy about him that pressed down on the four children like an invisible weight, making it hard to breathe even though he hadn't said a word yet. His hair was short and black as obsidian, his eyes the color of liquid amber, and an ugly scar ran across his left cheek like a reminder of battles fought and barely survived.

He scanned each of the students carefully, his gaze sharp enough to cut glass, as though he was memorizing their faces for some future reckoning.

"My name is Jareth," he said in a voice that boomed like thunder rolling across mountains.

The sound hit the four Trainees like a physical blow, making them stagger backward and gasp for air. This was their first time experiencing this kind of oppressive presence, and the man wasn't even trying to intimidate them, this was just his natural aura leaking out like steam from a boiling pot.

Ares managed to cope better than the others, though his knees still felt shaky. He'd experienced something similar in Lord Alaric's presence, and compared to that crushing weight, he could still manage to breathe.

"I will be your class guardian," Jareth continued, his amber eyes glowing like coals in a fire. "We'll start each day with basic conditioning before you move on to your individual training activities."

For a moment, the choking pressure in the air seemed to ease slightly. Jareth had been testing them, measuring their ability to function under stress, and now he had all the information he needed.

He looked at them as they tried to catch their breath, his expression showing about as much sympathy as a stone wall. "Try to keep up with me. Slackers will be punished severely, and trust me, you don't want to find out what severely means."

Without any other warning, Jareth immediately began to run.

The four Trainees scrambled after him like panicked rabbits, their feet pounding against the packed earth. Sylas quickly took the lead with his long, efficient strides. Lysandra ran with perfect form just behind him, her breathing controlled and steady. Ares pushed himself to keep up with them, his lungs already starting to burn. Maelia brought up the rear, her shorter legs working twice as hard as everyone else's just to avoid being left behind completely.

They ran across an enormous open field that seemed to stretch on forever in all directions, this was the Cradle's main training ground, used by different classes throughout the day. The grass was worn down to dirt in long paths where countless students had run this exact route over the years.

Two hours passed like a blur of pain and determination. Their legs felt like rubber, their lungs screamed for mercy, and sweat poured down their faces like small waterfalls. Jareth would turn back every few minutes to check on them, giving brief nods of either approval or disappointment before continuing his relentless pace.

Finally, mercifully, he came to a stop near a cluster of old oak trees.

The four Trainees stumbled toward him and immediately collapsed onto the grass, their chests heaving as they gasped for air like fish pulled from water. Even Sylas looked completely drained, his usual calm composure replaced by the desperate need to breathe.

Jareth cleared his throat, the sound somehow carrying more authority than most people's shouting.

"Good work," he said, scanning their exhausted faces with something that might have been approval. "Not too shabby for your first day. You'd better get used to this routine, it's going to be your wake-up call every single morning from now on."

He turned to leave, his heavy boots crunching on the grass, but paused to deliver the final blow.

"Oh, and here are your merit points for today's effort. Sylas, you get twenty points for setting the pace. Lysandra and Ares, fifteen points each for solid performance. Maelia, five points for not giving up even when your legs wanted to quit."

Then he walked away without another word, leaving the four Trainees sprawled on the ground like battle casualties.

They lay there for several minutes, too tired to move or speak, staring up at the cloudy sky and wondering what they'd gotten themselves into. Finally, when their breathing had returned to something approaching normal, they dragged themselves upright and began the long walk back to the dormitories.

Hot baths and clean clothes had never sounded so appealing. And this was just the beginning of their day, they still had individual training sessions, merit-based meals, and whatever other challenges the Cradle had planned for them.

But as Ares walked back toward the fortress, his legs shaky but his spirit surprisingly strong, he couldn't help but smile. This was exactly the kind of training he needed. Brutal, honest, and designed to forge strength from weakness.

He was going to get stronger here, no matter what it cost him.

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A/N – Was it fire or mid? Don't just vanish—powerstone, comment, review. Let me feel your presence.