Two weeks swiftly passed in the coastal haven of Tadu, and Akagoan, commenced his rigorous training with Lykaa and Amara.

  Along the wide, shimmering shore of the sea, he stood firm, guiding his apprentices with a steady voice.

  "Hold your barriers, both of you," he commanded with measured authority.

  Without pause or mercy, Akagoan began hurling stones towards his students. Lykaa, encased within her healing barrier, struggled as the relentless assault wore her down.

  "I cannot maintain it any longer, Akagoan," she cried, her voice trembling. "My barrier... it's beginning to break!" Her hands shook as fractures formed upon the surface of her shield.

  Amara, though equally besieged, fared better, her defenses holding firm against the oncoming barrage, though cracks, too, began to mar the integrity of her protection.

  With Lykaa’s barrier visibly faltering, she gasped, "I cannot hold it anymore," before, at last, her shield shattered into fragments under the unyielding force.

  Akagoan, quick to halt his assault, observed the moment with a deepening understanding. The exposure, the moment without a barrier, was a vulnerability not to be ignored. And not long after, Amara, despite her resilience, also surrendered to the strain.

  "Well done, Amara," Akagoan praised, his voice firm yet approving. "You held for a full hour—a commendable effort. But your focus must now shift. Rather than stretching your barrier outward, you must first concentrate on fortifying its strength. Build an unbreakable defense, and once it is secure, then you may consider expanding its reach."

  Amara, her face bright with both pride and gratitude, responded earnestly, "Thank you, Akagoan. Your guidance over these past two weeks has been invaluable. Before, I could barely maintain my barrier for more than a couple minutes, and now I’ve managed an hour."

  Her words carried genuine admiration, and Akagoan, with a solemn nod, acknowledged her progress.

  However, as his gaze turned to Lykaa, his expression hardened, and his tone grew stern.

  "And you, Lykaa," he began, his voice edged with disappointment, "you have only managed to endure for thirty minutes. There has been no sign of improvement in the past week. This is unacceptable."

  "I'm sorry, Akagoan. I truly am trying," Lykaa murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, laden with quiet regret. "I'll do better tomorrow."

  "Tomorrow?" Akagoan’s voice cut through with unwavering resolve. "There will be no waiting until tomorrow. We begin again at once. You know what is required of you."

  Lykaa's eyes widened, and she adopted a plaintive tone, her lips forming a slight pout. "But, Akagoan, you have Amara and me run along the coast for an hour each day. Must I do it alone again?"

  "YES!!!," Akagoan replied with no trace of sympathy in his voice, glancing briefly at his sundial before continuing.

  "This training has strengthened both your and Amara's stamina, allowing you to endure far longer. Yet, you alone have shown no improvement in the past week. This can only mean one thing—you’ve been shirking your duty, taking rests when you should be running." His tone, sharp as a drawn blade, left no room for argument.

  "But, Akagoan, I—" Lykaa began to protest.

  "No 'buts,'" Akagoan interjected firmly. "I shall accompany you myself now to ensure there is no more shirking of your training. Now come, let us move," he commanded, grasping her wrist and leading her forward with an unyielding grip.

  Meanwhile, along the sunlit beach, Astraa and Flanco were deep in their own sparring session. Astraa, with her mighty battle axe in hand, stood against Flanco, who brandished his swift daggers.

  By all accounts, Flanco should have held the advantage in close combat, yet Astraa’s prowess proved to be nothing short of extraordinary. With startling agility and precision, she used the hilt of her axe to strike Flanco squarely in the gut, sending him sprawling onto the sand.

  "For a maiden who looks so sweet and graceful, you wield that axe like a wild beast," Flanco remarked, coughing as he lay winded on the ground.

  Astraa’s lips curved into a smile at his words.

  "You're the only woman I know," Flanco added with a weary sigh as he pushed himself to his feet, "who would take being likened to a beast as a compliment."

  "Alright! That will do for today," Astraa said, her voice carrying a note of finality. "Let’s rejoin the others."

  "At last!" Flanco exclaimed with relief, taking the lead as they made their way back.

  Upon reaching the beach, they found Amara sitting alone, gazing out over the water.

  "What are you doing here by yourself?" Astraa asked. "Is your training for the day finished?"

  "Mine is, yes," Amara replied with a sly smile. "But Lykaa still has some extra work to do."

  "Lykaa? And where might she be?" Flanco inquired, glancing around.

  Amara pointed toward the shore, where Akagoan could be seen running behind Lykaa, giving her a firm push each time her pace faltered.

  "Poor Lykaa," Flanco chuckled, sharing a knowing look with Amara. "Akagoan certainly isn't going easy on her."

  "You know," Amara mused as they watched Akagoan and Lykaa running in the distance, "though Akagoan is quite hard on her, I can’t help but think Lykaa is rather fortunate."

  "Fortunate?" Flanco echoed, raising an eyebrow. "You call that fortunate? The poor girl looks as though she can scarcely catch her breath."

  "I understand," Amara responded, her gaze thoughtful, "but receiving such focused attention from Akagoan—someone with such remarkable healing powers—is no small thing. Sometimes, during our training, I can’t help but feel a bit overlooked."

  There was a faint note of yearning in her voice.

  "Overlooked?" Astraa asked, her curiosity piqued.

  "I mean," Amara began, her tone earnest, "Akagoan is indeed a remarkable instructor. Over the past two weeks, my defensive barrier has grown stronger than ever before. I even feel prepared to face my final trial with confidence. Yet, despite spending the entire day in his presence, he remains perpetually formal with me. In contrast, with Lykaa, he is far more relaxed, often scolding and reprimanding her."

  As Amara spoke, Astraa felt a pang of unease, her heart quickening at the thought of Akagoan's treatment of Lykaa.

  "So, do you wish for Akagoan to scold and reprimand you as well?" Flanco inquired, his tone light and teasing.

  Yet, Astraa sensed that Amara’s words carried a deeper significance.

  "It is not merely the scolding or reprimands that concern me," Amara clarified with a touch of wistfulness.

  "What I find significant is the special bond they seem to share. Astraa, you are well acquainted with Lykaa's tendency towards idleness. Yet, for the past fortnight, she has been the first to arrive and the last to depart from training. Despite Akagoan's rigorous demands, she endures them with perseverance. Even now, as she trains upon the beach, she began with reluctance but has transformed her demeanor. This, to me, is the essence of their bond."

  As Amara spoke, Flanco and Astraa turned their gaze toward Lykaa. Despite the grueling nature of her training, a look of contentment graced her features. She would pause to jest with Akagoan, who would respond with a smile and a playful retort.

  "You are indeed correct," Flanco conceded, his voice carrying a hint of admiration.

  "Lykaa appears to have formed a genuine connection with Akagoan. I have never witnessed her so animated and eager in her training before."

  His words only heightened Astraa's growing curiosity.

  Following their strenuous run along the beach, Akagoan and Lykaa made their way back. Lykaa, breathing heavily, trailed behind, her steps slower and more deliberate, while Akagoan walked beside her.

  "That was quite the invigorating run, was it not?" Akagoan inquired with a tone of mild satisfaction. Lykaa could only nod in response, too winded to speak.

  "I propose we make this a daily routine," Akagoan continued, a playful glint in his eye. "You will become remarkable in no time."

  "What? Oh, please, no!" Lykaa implored, her face a picture of earnest anxiety. "I promise to improve by tomorrow, but do not make me endure such a run twice a day on the beach."

  Akagoan's lips curved into a reassuring smile. Placing a comforting hand upon her head and gently patting her, he said, "Alright..alright, we shall all have a reprieve tomorrow. Rest is essential as well."

  "Thank heavens," Lykaa exclaimed with a relieved gasp, a smile spreading across her face as she looked at Akagoan. He returned her smile with equal warmth.

  Observing their exchange, Astraa felt an unfamiliar surge of resentment rising within her.

  She struggled to understand why Akagoan's presence elicited such a response, particularly since Lykaa, her dearest friend, was receiving his diligent training.

  "Astraa! Flanco! Have you both completed your training as well?" Akagoan's voice cut through her troubled thoughts.

  Astraa, her mood darkened by an emotion she could not fully grasp, chose to remain mute in response to his query.

  "Indeed," Flanco answered, his tone casual. "We finished some time ago and have been waiting for you and Lykaa to return."

  "Excellent. How about we all return to Sir Filic's and indulge in a well-earned respite?" Akagoan proposed, casting a glance toward Lykaa. She responded with a mischievous grin, "I certainly could use one," her tone brimming with relief.

  Astraa, perturbed by the amiable exchange between Akagoan and Lykaa, interjected curtly, "I shall return to the cottage for now. I may join you later."

  "And what of you two?" Akagoan inquired, turning to Amara and Flanco.

  "Naturally, we are in," Amara affirmed with a nod.

  " I look forward to enjoying some ale alongside Lady Sila’s renowned delicacies," Flanco added with a smile.

  "Well, what are we waiting for? Let us be on our way," Akagoan urged.

  "Are you certain you will not accompany us?" Lykaa asked, her gaze settling on Astraa.

  "No, I am content to rest and take a moment’s repose," Astraa replied, her eyes flickering toward Akagoan, curious if he would offer any further comment.

  "Very well, then—off to Sir Filic's we go," Akagoan proclaimed as they set out.

  Astraa, feeling a wave of frustration, watched them depart in silence, a part of her wishing he might have persuaded her to join them. Yet, he walked away without a backward glance.

  As they entered Sir Filic's cabin, Vysag greeted them with a smile.

  "I haven't seen you lot in some time. Akagoan seems to have kept you all quite occupied, hasn't he?"

  "Occupied is an understatement," Amara responded with a light laugh, joined by Lykaa.

  "Akagoan ! You ought to grant these young women some reprieve now and then," Lady Sila admonished warmly.

  "Come, my dears, let me fetch you something to eat. You look positively worn out." Akagoan merely nodded, his annoyance barely concealed.

  "And I've been laboring diligently as well," Flanco chimed in with a grin.

  "Ah, well, I have just the remedy for you," Sir Filic declared, producing two bottles of liquor with a flourish.

  "Now, this is what I call a true day off," Flanco said, settling into a seat beside Akagoan at the table, as they prepared to enjoy their well-deserved respite.

  "Where is Astraa? " Vysag inquired, his brow furrowing with concern.

  "Ah, she is resting in her room," Akagoan explained. "She mentioned she would attempt to join us later."

  "Here, ladies," Lady Sila announced as she brought forth an array of freshly fried shrimp and fish. "Help yourselves, and do ensure to serve some to the gentlemen as well."

  "Certainly, Lady Sila. We are most grateful," Lykaa and Amara responded, their hunger evident as they eagerly accepted the offerings.

  "To a fortnight of successful training!" Akagoan toasted, raising his glass. Flanco, Akagoan, and Sir Filic clinked their glasses together in celebration.

  At that moment, the cabin door creaked open.

  "Astraa!" Lykaa exclaimed with genuine delight. "Come and join us. You’ve arrived just in time for dinner," Lady Sila welcomed her warmly.

  "Thank you, Lady Sila," Astraa said graciously, her gaze drifting toward Akagoan as she spoke.

  However, Akagoan's attention remained fixed upon Lykaa and Amara, who were deep in conversation.

  "Why, girls, have you not yet joined us?" Akagoan inquired, his voice warm. "Do come and partake," Flanco urged.

  Amara and Lykaa were soon served their glasses of drink.

  As the evening wore on and a few drinks had been enjoyed, Amara remarked, "Akagoan, you have yet to touch your meal."

  "I shall..." Akagoan began, but his attention was soon absorbed once more in a conversation with Vysag.

  "Nay, you must eat now," Lykaa insisted, her speech slightly slurred from the effects of alcohol, as she tugged at Akagoan's arm.

  Astraa, uncomfortable, observed the scene with mounting unease.

  Akagoan, engrossed in his discussion with Vysag, scarcely noticed.

  Growing increasingly exasperated, Lykaa seized Akagoan by the beard and, with a determined gesture, forced a piece of shrimp into his mouth.

  The sight of Akagoan’s surprised expression elicited peals of laughter from the entire table.

  Astraa, her irritation and discontent simmering beneath the surface, managed an awkward smile, striving to conceal her true feelings.

  Astraa gently guided Lykaa back into her chair, her tone firm yet kind. "That will be quite enough liquor for you," she stated, even as the room was filled with the sounds of jovial laughter.

  Astraa's intervention was motivated by more than mere concern; she knew that alcohol had a way of loosening Lykaa’s inhibitions, resulting in physical interactions with Akagoan—an outcome Astraa was eager to avoid.

  "Excuse me for a moment," Akagoan announced, rising from his seat.

  Sir Filic, with a knowing smile, remarked, "You never seem to part with that pipe, do you?" Akagoan responded with a grin, as he stepped outside.

  As Astraa continued to dine, she noted that, aside from Vysag and Lady Sila, the rest of the party were thoroughly inebriated and lost in their revelry.

  While Astraa planned to leave, Lady Sila glanced up and asked, "Where might you be heading, my dear?"

  Astraa replied with a gentle smile, “I believe I shall return to my room. The hour has grown late, and I find myself rather weary.”

  Lady Sila, with a sympathetic nod, reassured her, "Very well, sweetheart. Do go and rest well. I shall ensure that Vysag sees to it that Amara and Lykaa return safely."

  "Thank you, Lady Sila. Good night to you all," Astraa bid her farewells as she departed the cabin.

  Outside, Astraa found Akagoan, enveloped in his own musings as he drew thoughtfully on his pipe, his gaze fixed upon the darkened sea stretching out before them.

  At the sound of her approach, he glanced over, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and offered her a nod of acknowledgment.

  “Heading off to bed?” he inquired, his voice low and steady.

  “Yes,” Astraa replied, though a subtle longing stirred within her—a quiet hope for a conversation that might pierce the veil of solitude between them.

  Akagoan, however, offered only a brief, “Very well, then. Sleep well; you certainly need it.” His tone remained casual, bearing none of the weight she had quietly hoped for.

  Astraa felt a pang of disappointment, her heart heavy with words unspoken. She turned away, the familiar ache of frustration settling in as she began the lonely walk back to her cottage, her steps muffled by the night.

  Behind her, Akagoan resumed his quiet vigil, the gentle glow of his pipe lighting his features as he drifted once more into thought, unaware of the silent turbulence he had left in her wake.

  Astraa suddenly stopped in her tracks, her heart pounding as she wrestled with the words caught on her tongue. But this time, she would not let them remain unspoken. Turning with renewed resolve, she walked back toward Akagoan, each step igniting her courage.

  Akagoan looked up, slightly startled, the smoke from his pipe curling lazily around him. “Astraa,” he asked, genuine curiosity in his gaze, “is something troubling you? Have you forgotten something?”

  For a moment, she simply held his gaze, the night air thick with unspoken sentiments. "Yes," she finally said, her voice steady. "It seems I’ve forgotten to share what’s truly on my mind.”

  "What is it, Astraa? " Akagoan asked, his confusion apparent.

  "It pertains to you and your methods of training," Astraa replied, her voice steady.

  "My methods of training?" Akagoan questioned, his bewilderment growing.

  Astraa hesitated, feeling a flicker of regret at her own boldness, but pressed on nonetheless.

  “I mean,” she replied, choosing her words carefully, “that I’ve noticed an ease between you and Lykaa that goes beyond mere camaraderie. It’s as though…there is an understanding, one that transcends the bond of training.”

  Akagoan's brow furrowed, and his voice carried a sharper edge as he replied, “Astraa, we train together; that is all. I don’t understand what you’re implying.”

  "Not in this manner. While I have trained with both men and women in Arela, the bond between you and Lykaa seems of a different nature," Astraa elucidated.

  "What precisely do you mean?" Akagoan asked, a hint of irritation seeping into his voice.

  "I have trained alongside young men in Arela, yet I have always maintained my distance. Once even when a fellow warrior sought to draw nearer, I made my intentions clear: I came here solely to train, not for anything more," Astraa asserted.

  Her scowl betraying the fact that she, too, had attracted someone’s affections, yet she remained resolute in her commitment to training, shunning any distractions of the heart.

  In the dim light of the evening, an unexpected confrontation unfolded between Akagoan and Astraa. As she expressed her concerns regarding the perceived intimacy between Akagoan and Lykaa, Akagoan's demeanor shifted, his features hardening.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  His gaze locked onto Astraa's with a fierce intensity, demanding further explanation.

  "What, then, are you insinuating? That I seek something more from Lykaa?"

  Akagoan's voice resonated with strength, his eyes piercing as they bore into her.

  "It appears that such is the case," Astraa declared, her voice seething with righteous indignation. "Even Amara has observed the undue favor you bestow upon Lykaa, to the detriment of her own training. I have been a witness to the intimate exchanges between you—those suggestive touches, those lingering embraces. It is nothing short of abhorrent to witness a mentor so shamelessly exploit his student in such a manner."

  The anguish in Akagoan’s eyes was unmistakable, his very soul laid bare by Astraa’s words. With a fierce storm of emotion, he responded, "If that is the impression you have formed, then perhaps it is indeed as you say. Perhaps I do indeed yearn for something more profound with Lykaa. Just because you remain solitary or find yourself incapable of fostering a romantic bond does not, by any means, render my desires immoral. If Lykaa herself harbors no objections, why then should you concern yourself? It would be prudent for you to mind your own affairs and cease prying into matters that do not concern you."

  Astraa felt those words crash over her like an overwhelming wave. She had anticipated Akagaon’s rebuttal, expecting him to deny her insinuations, yet not only did he accept them—he rebuked her in return.

  Struggling to hold back her tears in his presence, Astraa turned and fled to her cottage in silence, her heart heavy with unspoken sorrow.

  In the sanctuary of her solitary cottage, Astraa, struggling with emotions she had long repressed, rushed inside and firmly bolted the door behind her. Enveloped in the oppressive silence of her refuge, she collapsed onto her bed, her composure utterly dissolving as a deluge of pain and sorrow erupted. Tears poured down her cheeks with relentless force, and Astraa found herself utterly overwhelmed by the intensity of her grief.

  It was not the notion of a friend discovering love elsewhere that tormented her; it was the crushing realization that Akagoan was the source of her profound despair.

  This revelation struck her like a wave, shattering her heart into bits.

  Until this moment, Minosa's tale of woe with Markon had seemed a distant, almost mythical sorrow, but now Astraa felt the full weight of her Minosa’s anguish. In the profound stillness of her solitude, Astraa grappled with the labyrinthine complexity of her emotions.

  Why did the mere discovery of Akagoan's affections for another woman evoke such exquisite suffering? This was a unique and unparalleled torment, one she had never before encountered. Her attempts to stem the tide of tears were in vain, as they continued to flow unchecked, a testament to the depth of her heartache.

  Meanwhile, Akagoan, consumed by a gnawing sense of guilt, paced back and forth, frustration etched upon his brow. Each puff of his pipe seemed to deepen the torment within him, as though every breath stoked the fires of his regret. The memory of Astraa's pained expression haunted him, a bitter echo that grew louder with each passing moment.

  At last, a surge of clarity seized him, and in a fit of unspoken desperation, he cast his pipe aside and strode swiftly towards Astraa's cottage, his heart pounding with mounting dread.

  As he approached her door, a wave of apprehension washed over him. What if Astraa, wounded and enraged, refused to listen? What if she never gave him the chance to make amends? Still, despite the knot of fear tightening in his chest, Akagoan raised his hand and knocked. Silence. The stillness pressed in on him, unbearable.

  He knocked again, firmer this time, his voice trembling with earnestness. "Astraa, it's me, Akagoan. Please, open the door. This is all just a misunderstanding," he implored, his words heavy with remorse.

  Inside, Astraa froze at the sound of his voice, her heart racing with a mix of surprise and sorrow. Her tears still fresh upon her cheeks, she struggled to gather herself, unwilling to let him see her in such a state of vulnerability. She longed to keep her broken heart hidden from his gaze, even as his pleas tugged at something deep within her.

  As Akagoan stood in the stillness, his patience mingled with resignation. He turned to leave, knowing Astraa needed her space. But just as his feet moved, the door creaked open behind him. Astraa stood in the threshold, her expression hardened, though her eyes betrayed a storm of emotion.

  "What is it? Haven't you made yourself clear already?" she asked, her voice firm, though the strain of maintaining her composure was evident.

  Before Akagoan could respond, she pressed on, her words sharp.

  "You're right, Akagoan. What happens between you and Lykaa is none of my concern. But Lykaa and I—we've been bound by friendship for as long as I can remember. To us, such bonds aren’t fleeting. Friendship, loyalty, they mean something—something you clearly wouldn't understand. Trust, Akagoan, once broken, is not so easily mended." Her voice trembled with anger, her words laden with accusation. “And above all, don’t you ever hurt Lykaa.”

  Akagoan's eyes darkened, fury flaring in them as he gripped the doorframe. His voice, though low, was intense, each word weighed with emotion.

  "Loyalty? You dare say I know nothing of loyalty and trust?" His gaze bore into her, a mixture of wounded pride and profound sincerity. "No one understands the weight of loyalty more than I do. Do not presume to know me, Astraa, and stain my name with false judgments. The sacrifices I would make for those I care for, you could scarcely fathom. And I would never ever hurt Lykaa."

  Astraa, taken aback by the rawness of his retort, felt her defiance waver, the anger that had fueled her confrontation now mingling with doubt. The intensity in Akagoan’s words struck deeper than she had anticipated, and for a moment, she found herself uncertain, her emotions swirling in confusion.

  “Astraa, what has possessed you?” Akagoan’s voice softened, the edge of confrontation giving way to genuine concern.

  “This isn’t the Astraa I’ve come to know. Why would you provoke such a baseless quarrel without cause?”

  Astraa faltered, caught off guard by the earnestness in his tone. Her anger, which had burned so fiercely, began to wane, though the hurt remained palpable.

  “The Astraa you know?” she echoed, her voice now tinged with sorrow. “ \What do you know about me? It’s been two weeks since we last truly spoke. Do you not remember? On my first day here, you told me it was my character that drew you to me, that made you want to be my friend. You even said it was for my sake that you took on the task of training Lykaa and Amara. Back at the sea, when you told me I was the first person you brought on your boat, it felt like I had earned something more—your trust. We began to form a bond, one that meant more to me than you know, akin to the closeness I share with my dearest friends.”

  She paused, her voice faltering slightly as her emotions surfaced.

  “But ever since you began training Lykaa and Amara, it’s as if I’ve ceased to exist. You never greet me, you scarcely look my way. Days have passed without a word exchanged between us. And now, you’ve grown so close to Lykaa... How would you feel, Akagoan, if I formed a bond with another, grew closer to someone else, and left you entirely forgotten?”

  Astraa’s eyes, filled with the weight of her unspoken pain, met Akagoan’s. For the first time, he truly understood the depth of her hurt. The cold distance he had unwittingly created now lay bare before him, and with it, a pang of guilt stirred deep within his chest.

  "But it’s fine!" Astraa’s voice trembled, her attempts at maintaining composure cracking like fragile glass.

  "I see it now—the way you look at Lykaa. It’s more than friendship, isn’t it? Of course, how could I compete? Love will always outshine the ties of mere camaraderie." Her words, though spoken softly, carried the weight of a storm, each sentence laced with a bitterness she couldn’t quite suppress.

  “Don’t trouble yourself over me,” Astraa continued, her voice betraying the slightest tremor as her stoic resolve began to waver. “I’m sorry for spoiling your night. At least now, I understand why you’ve been so distant. Just… take care of Lykaa. She’s too pure for this world—a gentle soul who deserves nothing but kindness.” As she moved to close the door, Akagoan's hand shot forward, catching it just in time, halting its closure.

  “Astraa, wait,” he implored, his gaze softened by an urgency she hadn’t expected, holding the door ajar in a wordless plea for her to stay.

  Astraa’s fingers gripped the edge of the door, trying with all her might to close it against his resistance, as though shutting it could also close off the raw, aching emotion pouring from her.

  But Akagoan’s arm held firm, barring her attempt. The door stood still, trapped in that agonizing moment, as if the very world had ceased its turning. The air between them crackled, thick with unspoken agony, the tension swelling like a gathering tempest. Her chest heaved with the weight of her unvoiced longing, her frustration, her heartbreak.

  Suddenly, Akagoan’s voice sliced through the charged silence, deep and unwavering, with a force that demanded her attention.

  "Astraa!" he commanded, his tone a blend of reproach and something more primal, something urgent. His eyes, burning with intensity, held hers captive.

  "Akagoan," she whispered, her voice wavering between surprise and confusion as he pulled her away from the door with a grip that left no room for protest. His hand, firm yet not cruel, silenced her in an instant, leaving her momentarily bereft of words.

  "Enough," Akagoan’s voice cut through the still night, sharp and commanding.

  "Listen to me," he said, the authority in his tone causing Astraa to fall silent, her eyes lifting to meet his, caught and held by the fervor in his gaze.

  "Do you honestly believe I hold romantic feelings for Lykaa?" he asked, his words as resolute as iron, dispelling the fog of doubt that had clouded Astraa’s heart. His voice was steady, yet charged with the weight of their misunderstanding.

  "My dealings with Lykaa are nothing but a reflection of her need. She’s lighthearted, careless at times, and to reach her, I must meet her where she is. I use camaraderie, laughter, to sharpen her, to strengthen her. Amara, on the other hand, is focused, needing no such attention. Lykaa—she is a friend and a student, nothing more."

  As his hand slowly released her arm, Astraa felt a wave of relief rush over her, a tide of emotion so profound that for a moment, she feared it would betray her stoic composure. The burden that had pressed so heavily upon her heart, the confusion and doubt that had gnawed at her soul, began to lift. Though she kept her expression controlled, the joy that surged within her, quiet yet undeniable, pulsed beneath the surface like the first hint of dawn after a long and unforgiving night.

  "Very well," she replied, her voice softening, now tinged with warmth and understanding. "If Lykaa is merely a friend, and your attentions toward her are born of nothing but training, then tell me, Akagoan—why did you avoid me?"

  Akagoan’s gaze locked with hers, his expression open, sincerity etched into every line of his face.

  "Avoid you?" he repeated, almost incredulous. "Astraa, from the moment you stood up for Vysag, you had my full attention. Your strength in the battle against the Red Boulevard—it was captivating. I wanted to know more about the woman who could command such skill and courage. I spoke to Flanco about you, about your abilities and your calm, easy nature, but he warned me. He said that once training began, your focus would become singular, and any interruption would be unwelcome. I hesitated—I didn’t want to be the one to draw your ire."

  He paused, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air, as though he were gathering the courage to speak the truth that had weighed on him for so long.

  "I still remember the promise I made to show you around Tadu. It's something that has lingered in my mind, unresolved. But Flanco, well, he mentioned what you just told me earlier—that after months of training with another warrior, you steadfastly refused any advances. And having known you for such a short time, I feared... I feared stepping onto the wrong path. I didn’t want to risk losing your respect, Astraa." His gaze softened as he finished, leaving the silence to settle between them, his words lingering like a quiet plea.

  His words, delivered with such quiet honesty, carried with them a genuine sense of regret, a glimmer of apology shining through his dark eyes.

  In the stillness of the dimly lit room, Astraa’s eyes widened, a mixture of revelation and astonishment flickering within them as she absorbed Akagoan's confession.

  "You... spoke to Flanco about me?" Her voice, though quiet, was laced with a hint of disbelief. "Is that why you’ve kept your distance?"

  Akagoan, unwavering in his stance, responded without hesitation, his tone certain.

  "Indeed. Why else would I have chosen to distance myself from you?"

  Astraa’s initial surprise began to dissolve, her lips curving into a sudden, unbidden smile. Confusion clouded Akagoan’s features as he watched her expression shift from astonishment to amusement, an unspoken question hanging between them.

  "Why do you smile, Astraa?" he inquired, his voice colored with a hint of perplexity, unsure of the humor she had found in his words.

  A soft chuckle escaped her lips before she responded, her eyes gleaming with newfound warmth.

  "It’s just—" she began, her voice light with mirth—"I never imagined that the fearless Akagoan, who has faced the unforgiving depths of the sea and the peril of countless battles, would be so concerned about me losing my composure."

  Her words hung in the air like a jest both gentle and teasing, and for the first time in their conversation, a flicker of lightness passed between them, softening the tension that had so recently gripped the room.

  A flash of annoyance danced in Akagoan's eyes as he declared, "Very well, that is quite enough. I shall take my leave."

  However, Astraa's imploring voice brought him to a halt. "Wait," she urged, prompting Akagoan to turn back slowly, curiosity mingling with caution.

  "I must apologize," Astraa confessed, her smile transforming into a visage of earnest sincerity.

  "I cast accusations upon you, and now I find myself steeped in guilt."

  Meeting her gaze directly, Akagoan responded with an air of understanding.

  "It is quite alright."

  Astraa's smile returned, brightening the atmosphere.

  "Thank you, Akagoan. You truly are a good friend."

  "Do tell me something I do not already know," Akagoan replied, his tone light and laced with playful banter, a glint of mischief returning to his eyes.

  Astraa couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound bright and freeing, as though the weight of the moment had finally lifted. "There he is," she teased, her smile widening as she saw the familiar spark of his old self.

  The tension that had once gripped them seemed to vanish in an instant, dissolving like mist before the first rays of the morning sun, leaving only the warmth of shared understanding between them.

  "Out of sheer curiosity," Akagoan began, "Flanco described you as the epitome of seriousness and focus, a person who is unyielding and devoid of frivolity. Is this portrayal accurate?"

  Astraa, with a reflective air, replied, " Flanco's description is quite precise. Aside from Lykaa and Minosa—whom you have yet to meet—I have consistently maintained a formal demeanor with those around me, preserving a respectful distance. Even in moments beyond training, I seldom allow myself to be truly vulnerable. Yet, with you, there is an ease that permits me to reveal my authentic self. Perhaps this is because you too are someone who unveils your true nature only to those you hold dear.

  On the topic of openness, I am intrigued by your willingness to share more freely with me, despite having previously confided only in Vysag, Lady Sila, and Sir Filic. Pray, what prompts this unexpected candor?"

  Akagoan, his voice softer now, paused as though searching for the right words.

  "The truth is, I am not sure myself. I just feel like you are someone who I can trust to open myself up, without being judged."

  Astraa, her heart touched by the unexpected sincerity in his words, found a gentle smile playing at her lips. It was a smile that spoke of understanding, of a shared recognition of something unspoken yet deeply felt.

  "Then let us no longer speak of avoidance," Astraa declared with resolve. "This is the Akagoan with whom I wish to forge a connection."

  Teasingly, Akagoan responded, "As long as my presence does not earn me your ire, I am more than willing."

  Their shared smile conveyed mutual understanding and warmth.

  "Akoagan..." Astraa's voice carried a note of solemnity, causing him a fleeting moment of unease.

  "Yes, what is it?" he asked, half dreading a renewed conflict.

  "Fear not," she reassured him with a wry smile. "I simply wish to remind you of your promise to show me around."

  "Ah, that," Akagoan replied, a touch of regret in his voice. "The matter of our training has since overshadowed that plan."

  With a gentle smile, Astraa unveiled her plan. "Do you not recall that we are to take a respite tomorrow?" she inquired.

  A glimmer of understanding crossed Akagoan's face, his features softening as he spoke, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I understand now," he said, his voice steady but warm. "I shall come to fetch you in the morning, then. Consider it a promise." His words carried a quiet certainty, a promise sealed between them.

  With that, he gave a small nod, his expression momentarily turning sheepish. "I shall take my leave now. Until the morrow, then," he added, turning to go.

  As he walked away, he scratched the back of his head in a gesture of mild embarrassment, leaving Astraa with a small smile, her thoughts lingering on the unspoken bond that had begun to form between them.

  Astraa watched his retreat with a renewed sense of warmth in her heart. The tumult of her previous doubts and uncertainties seemed to dissolve, replaced by a sense of contentment. The reasons behind Akagoan's earlier reticence only served to endear him further to her, making the previous pain and heartache appear insignificant in comparison.

  Upon returning to her chamber, Astraa reclined upon her bed, her mind alight with anticipation for the morrow's promise.

  With the misunderstandings between them now set aright, she surrendered to a serene slumber, drifting into a state of blissful repose.

  As the first golden rays of dawn began to seep through the windows of Akagoan’s seaside retreat, he stirred from his slumber, his disheveled hair framing a countenance marked by the remnants of sleep. Hastily, he donned an unbuttoned shirt, his movements hurried and slightly disordered.

  The morning began with his customary search for his pipe, a herald of his day’s start. Yet, as clarity dawned upon him, he remembered he had left the cherished pipe near Sir Filic's cabin amidst the tumult of the previous night.

  Reacting swiftly to this realization, Akagoan emerged from his cottage with determined strides, intent on reclaiming his beloved possession.

  Upon opening the door, he was met with an unexpected sight—Astraa stood before him, resplendently attired and prepared for the day’s excursion, a small bag casually draped over her shoulder.

  “Astraa! What brings you here so early?” Akagoan inquired, his voice tinged with surprise and a lingering haze of sleep.

  "Early?" Astraa echoed, her voice carrying a hint of impatience as her gaze fixed firmly on Akagoan. "I was waiting for you to come fetch me. Since you failed to appear, I thought I’d take the initiative and pay you a visit. Have you forgotten your promise to show me around?"

  Akagoan, caught off guard, ran a hand through his tousled hair, a faint smile creeping across his still sleepy features. "I haven’t forgotten," he replied, his voice marked with a touch of restlessness. "I just didn’t expect we’d start so early."

  His disheveled appearance—his hair untamed and shirt hanging open—contrasted with the innocent expression he wore, an endearing sight that softened Astraa's gaze.

  A touch of concern crossed her face as she observed him more closely. "What is it, Akagoan? You look like you're in need of something."

  "Umm... Astraa," Akagoan began hesitantly, his gaze darting toward the distant cabin.

  "Could you wait here for a moment? There's something I left near Sir Filic’s place. You can wait inside if you'd like."

  Without waiting for her reply, he hastily buttoned his shirt and rushed past her, his footsteps quickening toward Sir Filic's cabin.

  Astraa, momentarily taken aback by the abruptness, gave a small nod to his retreating figure and decided to wait, curiosity piqued.

  Stepping into Akagoan's cottage, she was struck by a wave of familiarity, her mind drifting back to the first time she had entered these very walls—when Akagoan's outward arrogance had stood like a barrier between them.

  Yet now, as she glanced around, she saw more than that fa?ade. The room, surprisingly orderly save for the rumpled bed, hinted at a man more thoughtful and meticulous than his rough exterior let on. The small details—the tidiness of the shelves, the careful arrangement of his belongings—only deepened her growing understanding of him.

  Despite the modest size of the room, it exuded a certain warmth, a quiet charm that was almost inviting. A small dining area seamlessly merged into the bedroom, while a door discreetly hid the bath.

  Against one wall stood Akagoan’s bed, and above it, a long wooden shelf lined with small figures—archers, swordsmen, and other heroic icons, the sort often admired by children.

  Astraa's gaze lingered on the finely crafted figures, marveling at their pristine condition. Each one seemed to tell a story, meticulously preserved by someone who, beneath their gruff exterior, held onto a deep sense of reverence for these symbols of heroism.

  Just then, the door creaked open, breaking her thoughts. "Akagoan, you're back. Did you find what you were after?" she asked, her voice carrying the hint of a playful inquiry.

  "Yes!" he replied, a bright smile on his face, proudly holding up his pipe.

  Astraa couldn't help but shake her head with a smirk. "And here I was, thinking you'd left something of grave importance," she teased, her tone light and affectionate.

  "Trust me, it holds great importance," Akagoan asserted, filling his pipe with tobacco, the rich aroma mingling in the air. With each puff, he seemed to find a sense of calm, as if the ritual grounded him, restoring his usual composure.

  As he glanced toward Astraa, who held one of the figurines with curiosity, he offered her a warm, genuine smile.

  Noticing his softened expression, Astraa couldn't resist asking, "Akagoan, did you get these when you were a child?"

  "Child?" he echoed, a distant look flickering in his eyes.

  " Everything you see here, I bought recently. Sometimes, I ask the traders from Rhanda and Iliad, who buy my fish, to bring me something new if they come across it," he explained, punctuating his words with another thoughtful puff.

  There was tenderness in his tone, and Astraa found herself unexpectedly charmed by this glimpse of his softer, more innocent side—so carefully hidden beneath the rugged facade he typically wore.

  She smiled, sensing the quiet vulnerability he rarely revealed.

  "Well then," Akagoan said, setting his pipe aside with finality, "I’ll take a quick shower, and we can be on our way."

  "Oh, very well. I’ll wait outside then," Astraa agreed, moving toward the door.

  "There's no need for that," Akagoan quipped, an amused glint in his eye. "You can stay right here—just promise not to peek." A mischievous smirk tugged at his lips, his playful nature emerging.

  Astraa shot him a sharp glance, her voice laced with mock indignation.

  "What? Of course not, you fool," she huffed, though the faint curve of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, betraying her amusement despite her feigned annoyance.

  "Shall we be off?" Akagoan asked, emerging from his bath with a refreshed air. He was neatly dressed, his hair carefully combed, and his face now alight with a vibrant alertness as he awaited Astraa’s reply.

  "Yes, let’s go," Astraa responded, delicately returning the figurines to their rightful places on the shelf before stepping out of the cottage. As they descended the stairs together, excitement twinkled in her eyes.

  "Shall I fetch the yakons, or will we be walking?" she asked eagerly, ready for whatever adventure lay ahead.

  "Neither," Akagoan replied with a knowing smile, igniting a spark of curiosity within her.

  Since, Vysag had already shown Astraa and the others much of the surrounding area, she suspected that Akagoan had something less conventional in mind, further deepening the intrigue of the day ahead.

  They strolled along the shoreline, the soothing rhythm of the waves accompanying their every step. Akagoan led Astraa’s gaze toward his boat, which he effortlessly pushed into the water with the practiced ease of a seasoned mariner.

  "We’re going out to sea?" Astraa asked, her initial excitement now tinged with a palpable unease.

  "Akagoan, the last time was... unforgettable, but the sea still unnerves me. It’s not something I wish to repeat."

  Her voice, once playful, now trembled with genuine apprehension as she stood hesitantly at the edge of the shore.

  Akagoan, undeterred, leapt onto the boat, a carefree smile dancing upon his lips as he watched her falter. Stretching out his hand, he spoke with a quiet assurance, "Trust me, Astraa." His gaze, earnest and unwavering, seemed to melt away her lingering doubts. Almost without thinking, she extended her hand, and with a steady pull, Akagoan brought her aboard.

  The boat cut through the rolling waves, its course set upon the restless sea. Yet, even as the waters swirled around them, Akagoan stood like a steadfast shield, ensuring that not a single splash reached her. And so, the journey began—carried not only by the waves but by a quiet trust, newly born between them.

  The waves, ever capricious in their dance, surged with their customary fervor, yet Akagoan deftly maintained a barrier, ensuring not a single droplet marred Astraa’s serenity. Amidst the roiling seascape, his unwavering presence beside her bestowed a profound sense of support and reassurance.

  Though a hint of trepidation lingered, his protective demeanor echoed the time he had shielded her during the clash with the Red Boulevard. An involuntary smile graced Astraa’s lips as she found comfort in the familiar constancy of his companionship.

  “Why the smile?” Akagoan’s voice cut through the silence with gentle curiosity.

  “It’s merely the sea,” Astraa responded, her tone a blend of surprise and awkwardness. “It’s quite beautiful.”

  As the boat continued its voyage, Astraa could not help but voice her anticipation.

  “Akagoan, we have sailed these waters before. While it is not without its charm, I had hoped for something more... novel.”

  Akagoan met Astraa’s gaze with a knowing smile, choosing to leave his thoughts unspoken.

  Sensing his silent communication, Astraa refrained from pressing further. She took comfort in the fact that he had gone to such lengths to ensure her enjoyment and to grant them the cherished time alone together.

  Upon arriving at the secluded fishing spot, a place where Akagoan preferred to cast his nets away from the hustle of other fishermen, Astraa’s admiration was palpable.

  “Ah, once more we stand at your cherished fishing haunt,” she remarked, her voice rich with genuine appreciation. “You know, Akagoan, experiencing this a second time, unburdened by the fear that once gripped me, renders it even more splendid.”

  With a heartfelt smile, Astraa continued, “Thank you, Akagoan, for fulfilling your promise and bringing me here. It is truly remarkable.”

  "Relax, Astraa. There is no need to feign delight merely to please me," Akagoan said, a playful undertone threading through his words.

  Astraa, slightly taken aback, retorted, "What do you mean? I assure you, I am genuinely pleased. My joy is not a mere pretense."

  "Ah, that is rather disappointing," Akagoan replied with a teasing grin. "I had other plans for us today, but if this tranquil spot suffices for your happiness, perhaps we need not venture further."

  With a playful smirk, Astraa responded, "Though I am quite content here, I would not wish to dampen your plans. Let us continue, if you have more to show."

  Amused by Astraa's spirited response, Akagoan guided the boat further into the sea.

  As the vessel progressed into deeper waters, Astraa voiced her apprehension, "Are we heading further out into the depths?"

  "Indeed," Akagoan affirmed.

  "Wouldn't the waves grow more turbulent the further we venture?" Astraa asked, concern creeping into her voice.

  "Naturally," Akagoan replied with an air of calm confidence.

  Astraa's eyes flickered with a touch of fear as she inquired, "Wait—are they worse than the ones we’ve faced before?"

  With a teasing smile, Akagoan answered, "Let’s just say, there’s no real comparison."

  At that, Astraa hesitated, her courage wavering. "On second thought, perhaps we should turn back," she suggested, inching closer to him, her apprehension unmistakable.

  Akagoan, watching her expression of delicate distress, found himself irresistibly charmed by her vulnerability.

  Drawing her closer, Akagoan gripped Astraa’s arm firmly.

  “Akagoan, what are you doing?” she asked, her pulse quickening.

  "Close your eyes. Trust me, and only open them when I say so," he instructed, his voice calm yet commanding.

  Astraa hesitated but eventually complied.

  “Alright…” she murmured, her eyes fluttering shut. As they continued their course, the roaring of the waves crashing violently against Akagoan's protective barrier filled her ears. Instinctively, she clung tighter to his arm, the sensation unfamiliar yet oddly comforting.

  It dawned on her—this was the first time she had held a man's hand for so long, the first time she had allowed herself to be this vulnerable. Throughout her life, Astraa had guarded her heart with steadfast resolve, always maintaining a poised and diplomatic demeanor.

  Yet now, in Akagoan's presence, those defenses seemed to crumble as she grasped his arm with unwavering trust, without daring to peek. She could hardly fathom how he managed to evoke such a profound shift within her, but something about him made her feel… safe.