Chapter 12

  A warm ray of sunlight slowly crept across Eldric’s face, its gentle heat stirring him from the depths of peaceful slumber. As the light touched his eyelids, he stirred, letting out a mighty yawn that echoed in the quiet shack. Stretching his arms high above his head, he blinked his eyes open and took in his surroundings.

  The others were still fast asleep on their cots, their rhythmic breathing the only sound filling the room. Eldric glanced toward the window, where sunlight streamed through in golden beams. For a moment, he felt at peace. But as the light grew brighter, a strange unease crept into his chest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had forgotten something important, though the thought remained maddeningly out of reach.

  BANG! BANG! BANG!

  The sudden, deafening pounding on the door jolted Eldric and the others awake. Fiora, Nyssa, and Rendrick shot upright in their beds, eyes wide with alarm. They exchanged frantic glances before all eyes turned to Eldric. He shrugged, equally confused.

  CRASH!

  The door flew open, slamming against the wall with a force that shook the shack. The four of them shrieked, scrambling to sit up straighter as Cerys stormed inside. Her boots struck the floor like thunder.

  “Get up!” she barked, her voice slicing through the room like a blade. “You have thirty seconds to fall in line out front!” Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heel and stomped back out, leaving the door swinging on its hinges.

  Eldric, Fiora, Nyssa, and Rendrick sprang from their beds in a panic, scrambling to pull on their clothes and boots. They tripped over each other in their haste to get outside. Bursting through the door, they stumbled to the fire pit and formed a shaky line, standing at attention. Their chests heaved as they tried to catch their breath, hearts pounding from the rude awakening.

  Cerys stood waiting, her piercing eyes sweeping over them like a hawk sizing up its prey. Her expression was a perfect blend of disappointment and fury.

  “Yesterday,” she began, her voice low and dangerous, “I made it perfectly clear that the four of you would be responsible for looking after yourselves. I am not your mother. I am not your maid. And, most importantly”, her voice rose, each word landing like a hammer blow, “I am not your alarm clock.”

  Eldric’s stomach twisted with dread. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge to glance at the others. Cerys’s gaze locked onto him, and he felt as though she could see right through him.

  “We,” Cerys continued, gesturing toward the courtyard beyond, “have been waiting for you since sunup. But, by the looks of it, it would seem that you all had better things to do, didn’t you?”

  Her words hung in the air, sharp and cutting. Eldric stood frozen, wondering just how much trouble they were in, and how much worse it might get.

  “No, ma’am!” they shout in unison, their voices echoing off the towering castle walls.

  “Specialist Drake and Commander Ellis are both very important people,” Cerys states, gesturing toward the two tall men who stand silently beside her. Their imposing figures demand respect, both are broad-shouldered and radiate authority. “You’d be wise to show them some appreciation by not wasting the precious time they sacrifice to train you.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” the four reply, their voices tight with nerves.

  Cerys steps closer, her gaze sharp enough to cut steel. “Now, I am assuming you four must be brimming with energy after all that extra sleep,” she says, her voice dripping with mockery. “And trust me, you’re going to need it. As punishment for keeping us waiting, you are to run one hundred laps around the field in the center of the courtyard. No complaints. No exceptions. Now move!”

  Without hesitation, the four break formation, sprinting up the dirt path leading toward the center of the training ground.

  The first fifty laps come easily enough. Eldric’s feet pound the gravel rhythmically, his strides strong and determined. By the time he rounds the fifty-first lap, though, his breathing grows shallow. Get it together, he scolds himself, trying to ignore the burning in his lungs.

  By the seventieth lap, a sharp pain shoots up his calves. He grimaces. I really should have stretched first, he thinks as his pace falters slightly. His breaths come faster and faster, and his legs feel heavier with every step.

  Fiora drops her pace and falls into stride beside him. “How are you holding up?” she asks, her voice steady despite their exertion.

  “Never better,” Eldric manages between gasps for air.

  Fiora glances ahead and gestures toward Rendrick and Nyssa, who are still running at full speed, their movements almost effortless. “I can’t believe it. Just look at those two,” she mutters. “Not even breaking a sweat.”

  “How are they in such good shape?” Eldric wonders aloud, shaking his head.

  “Don’t let them show us up,” Fiora says with a grin, her competitive nature kicking in. She picks up her pace, and Eldric matches her, ignoring the protests from his tired muscles. Together, they push through the remaining twenty laps.

  When the two finally cross the finish line, Eldric stumbles to a stop, hands on his knees, gulping down air. Sweat streams down his face.

  Fiora pats him on the shoulder before heading toward the hand-to-hand combat area, where Cerys is already waiting for her. “See you later,” she calls over her shoulder.

  Eldric straightens up and walks to the center of the field, where Commander Ellis and Rendrick stand waiting for him. As he approaches, he takes a moment to size up his new instructor.

  Standing at over six feet tall, Commander Ellis towers over both him and Rendrick. His very presence commands attention. His hazel eyes are piercing, and a long, deep scar runs down the length of his left cheek—a reminder of battles fought and survived. His short brown hair is slicked back, and his broad shoulders give him an air of indomitable strength.

  “Thanks for finally joining us,” Commander Ellis says dryly when Eldric reaches them.

  Eldric straightens his posture, instinctively standing at attention, as Ellis shifts his focus to Rendrick. The boy’s posture is perfect, his expression steely and unshaken—Eldric can’t help but feel like he’s already behind.

  “Rendrick, I am pleased to see you’ve been selected to join Alicia’s personal guard,” Commander Ellis says, his voice steady and approving. “The last several months of training with me seem to have paid off. Cerys was wise not to throw you to the streets.”

  “Thank you, sir!” Rendrick replies crisply, his voice loud and disciplined.

  Turning his sharp gaze to Eldric, Commander Ellis says, “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Commander Ellis, but you may call me sir.” His tone carries the weight of years of authority. “As you have already been informed, I will be instructing you in the art of armed combat.”

  Ellis walks over to Rendrick, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Rendrick here has a gift with the battle-ax,” he states, his voice tinged with pride. “And as I hear it, you seem to have a way with swords.”

  The commander steps closer to Eldric, his hazel eyes scanning him from head to toe. Eldric shifts uncomfortably under the intense scrutiny.

  “I watched you and that girl, Fiora, during your laps just now,” Ellis continues. His expression hardens. “Let us hope that what you lack in stamina, you make up for in skill.”

  Without another word, Ellis crouches and unlatches a large wooden trunk sitting at his feet. He lifts the heavy lid, revealing an assortment of weapons. He pulls out a massive battle-ax with a roughly-hewn wooden handle and hands it to Rendrick, who accepts it with practiced ease.

  Reaching into the trunk again, Ellis retrieves a simple steel sword and holds it out to Eldric. The blade gleams in the sunlight, its surface polished to perfection. Eldric takes it, feeling its weight and balance.

  “Before we can do any real work, I need to get a preview of what you can already do,” Ellis says, closing the trunk with a loud thud. “Let’s see where your skills stand.”

  He gestures to an open stretch of the field. “On my mark, I want the two of you to spar. Give it everything you’ve got.” Ellis’s voice carries an edge of expectation.

  Eldric moves into position, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. He plants his feet in a defensive stance, his legs slightly bent for balance. He glances at Rendrick, who is already standing steady with the enormous ax resting lightly in his grip.

  The size of that ax…it’s enormous. How can he possibly control it? Eldric wonders, doubt flickering in his mind. He quickly buries the thought, forcing himself to focus.

  Rendrick meets his gaze with an icy calmness, as if sizing up his prey. Eldric returns the stare, masking his nerves behind the best poker face he can muster.

  “Ready…go!” Commander Ellis barks.

  Eldric doesn’t hesitate. He leaps forward with explosive speed, diving low before Rendrick can even raise his ax to strike. Rolling past Rendrick’s legs, Eldric pops to his feet behind him, finding himself face-to-back with his opponent.

  Seizing the opportunity, Eldric raises his sword for a strike. But Rendrick reacts quickly, using the momentum of his ax to whip around just as Eldric’s blade comes down.

  CLANG!

  The two weapons collide in a flash of sparks. Eldric’s blade is met mid-swing by Rendrick’s heavy, rounded ax blade. The force reverberates through Eldric’s arms, but he steadies himself.

  Rendrick grins, his strength evident in the way he absorbs the impact with ease. Eldric pulls his sword back and leaps backward, creating space between them.

  Rendrick steps forward, planting his feet firmly. He draws the ax back, its blade gleaming in the sunlight as he prepares his next move.

  Eldric steadies himself, waiting for Rendrick to make the next move. If I can dodge his swing, I should have a split second to strike before he recovers. He tightens his grip on his sword, his knuckles whitening as he anticipates the blow.

  With a fierce determination, Rendrick tightens both hands around the handle of his massive ax. He shifts his weight, and with a grunt, he swings the ax low, aiming to sweep Eldric off his feet. The blade whistles through the air, heading straight for Eldric’s ankles.

  Eldric reacts in the nick of time, leaping into the air just as the ax slices through the space where his feet had been. While airborne, he raises his sword above his left shoulder, channeling all his momentum into a diagonal swing across his chest. His blade misses Rendrick’s right shoulder just as Eldric’s feet touch the ground.

  Eldric sees his opening—a chance to finish the match. He steps forward, lifting his sword high, and swings it down with all his might.

  CLANG!

  Eldric’s sword jerks to a halt, vibrating violently in his hands. Shock floods his face as he realizes what happened—Rendrick had altered his grip on the ax and raised it in time to catch the blade against the sturdy wooden handle.

  “Not bad,” Rendrick mutters, his lips curling into a grin.

  Eldric grits his teeth and pushes harder, trying to overpower Rendrick’s defense. Rendrick, not to be outdone, braces his legs and heaves upward, forcing Eldric’s sword back. With their weapons locked together, the two engage in a ferocious test of strength.

  Sweat pours down their faces as they push against each other, neither willing to yield an inch. The sound of their strained breathing fills the air, and the tension crackles like electricity. Seconds stretch into what feels like eternity, but neither gains the upper hand.

  “All right, I’ve seen enough!” Commander Ellis shouts, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “This match is officially a draw.”

  Both fighters immediately relax their grips and step back. Eldric lowers his sword, his arms trembling from the exertion. Rendrick straightens up, his chest heaving as he catches his breath.

  “That was a good match,” Rendrick says, flashing a smile.

  “Thanks. You as well,” Eldric replies, wiping the sweat from his brow. Despite the grueling bout, he can’t help but smile back.

  The two turn their attention to Commander Ellis, who strides toward them, his expression one of approval. “Well done, boys. That was very impressive indeed. You both have remarkable potential.”

  Ellis’s hazel eyes settle on Eldric, narrowing slightly. “However, Eldric,” he begins, his tone pointed, “I was hoping to see something…a bit more magical. If you catch my drift.”

  Eldric stiffens, his mind racing. Does he know about the Aetherguard? He shifts uncomfortably under Ellis’s scrutinizing gaze, unsure of how to respond.

  Eldric’s smile fades, replaced by an uncertain frown.

  “I do know what you’re referring to, sir,” Eldric admits, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. “But I’d only just started learning Aetherguard from my father before he was… killed. I’ve infused magic into my blade during combat twice before, but I have no idea how I actually did it.”

  Commander Ellis sighs, crossing his arms. “Ah, that’s rather disappointing. It seems you have much to learn.” His tone is laced with both disappointment and intrigue, as though Eldric is a puzzle he intends to solve.

  The rest of the day is a grueling blur of drills and combat exercises. Commander Ellis pushes them relentlessly, demanding precision, speed, and strength. Every muscle in Eldric’s body screams in protest as he sprints, swings, and blocks under the fading light of the sun. By the time the sky shifts from orange to a dusky purple, he can barely stand.

  Stumbling back toward the shack with Rendrick, Eldric feels as though his legs are made of jelly. His boots drag along the dirt path, and every step is a laborious effort. Rendrick doesn’t seem much better off, though he offers Eldric a tired smile as they trudge along.

  When they finally reach the shack, Eldric’s spirits lift slightly at the sight of a fire crackling in the pit. Fiora is seated at the picnic table nearby, a knife in hand as she slices vegetables with methodical precision. She looks up as they approach, a small smile playing on her lips.

  “How was training, Eldric?” she asks, her tone light but her eyes full of curiosity.

  “Intense,” Eldric replies with a heavy sigh, rubbing his sore arms.

  “More or less the same for me,” Rendrick chimes in, stretching his arms dramatically. “Commander Ellis doesn’t hold back.”

  Fiora smirks at Rendrick before turning her attention back to Eldric. “Cerys wasn’t as bad as I expected after yesterday’s… ‘welcome.’” She pauses, absently rubbing the bruises along her arms. “She’s tough, no question, but she’s an incredible fighter. I might even learn to like training under her.”

  “That’s good,” Eldric says, dropping onto the bench across from her. “What’s she training you in, exactly?”

  “She said my swordsmanship is above average,” Fiora replies, her knife moving steadily through the vegetables. “So, she wants to focus on hand-to-hand combat. Apparently, that’s where I’m lacking.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “I’ll be the judge of your sword skills,” Rendrick interjects with a grin, flexing slightly as he leans against the table.

  Fiora pointedly ignores him, continuing, “Honestly, I don’t mind focusing on hand-to-hand. There’s something exhilarating about feeling my knuckles crack against an opponent’s flesh.” She pauses, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. “It’s oddly satisfying.”

  Eldric raises an eyebrow. “You’re kind of terrifying, you know that?”

  Fiora giggles softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Maybe. But admit it—you’re glad I’m on your side.”

  Eldric chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, I am.”

  Rendrick grabs a seat beside them, groaning as he stretches his legs out in front of him. “Well, here’s to surviving the first day of training. Let’s hope tomorrow isn’t worse.”

  Fiora snorts. “Oh, it will be. But I’m ready for it.”

  Eldric glances around, noticing something. “Hey, where’s Nyssa?” he asks.

  “Who knows?” Fiora mutters, not looking up from her work.

  “Probably still training,” Rendrick offers, his gaze dropping to the table where Fiora slices through a potato with steady precision. “Need help with dinner?” he asks.

  Fiora pauses, then smirks slightly. “Sure. In fact, I’d love some help from both of you.” She looks pointedly at Eldric.

  “Fine, fine,” Eldric says with a laugh. “But first, I need to refill my water flask.”

  He unties a worn sheepskin flask from his belt and makes his way to the well near the side of the shack. Setting the flask on the stone ledge, he begins to lower the bucket using the squeaky rope pulley. The sound of the bucket scraping against the stone fades as it descends into the well.

  WHOOSH!

  Startled, Eldric yelps and loses his grip on the rope. The bucket crashes downward, splashing into the water below. He spins around, his heart racing, but sees nothing.

  “What in the…” he murmurs, scanning the area nervously.

  His eyes land on the shack’s wall, and his breath catches. Nailed to the wooden boards is his flask, a wooden arrow piercing through its leather strap. Eldric spins toward the archery range, narrowing his eyes at the empty space. It looks deserted, the targets and hay bales undisturbed.

  Before he can fully process what’s happening, a second arrow whistles through the air, grazing past his ear. He freezes. Slowly turning his head, he sees the arrow embedded in his flask, just inches from the first.

  “Okay, what the hell is going on?” he mutters.

  Deciding to investigate, he crouches low and begins creeping toward the archery range. The eerie silence makes every step feel like a thunderclap. He weaves between the hay bales, peering around each one carefully, but finds nothing.

  He turns to head back toward the shack, but only manages a few steps before something heavy drops onto his shoulders from above.

  “AAGH!” he yells as he’s knocked to the ground.

  Scrambling, he flips onto his back, heart pounding, and looks up at the dark-hooded figure now standing over him. The figure lets out a high-pitched giggle, then pulls back their hood.

  “Ha-ha! Got you!” Nyssa says, grinning ear to ear.

  Eldric lets out a shaky breath as he pushes himself upright. “Nyssa!” he exclaims, still catching his breath. “What was that for?”

  Nyssa shrugs, completely unbothered. “Just having a little fun. You’re way too easy to scare.”

  Eldric groans, leaning back against the well for support. “You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

  Nyssa plops down beside him, her mischievous grin still plastered across her face. “Aw, come on, admit it—I got you good!”

  Eldric chuckles despite himself, shaking his head. “You’d make a great assassin with skills like that.”

  Nyssa beams, clearly taking the comment as a compliment. “Maybe I will,” she teases. “But for now, I’m just happy I outmaneuvered you.”

  Eldric rolls his eyes, finally feeling his pulse slow. “Fine, you win. But don’t expect me to let my guard down again.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Nyssa says with a wink.

  The two sit quietly for a moment, catching their breath and watching the twilight settle over the courtyard.

  Nyssa leans back against the well, a playful smirk crossing her face. “Well probably not a Assassin.” she says, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I was a fairly adept pickpocket in my younger days.”

  Eldric raises an eyebrow, grinning. “I bet your parents were proud.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” she replies casually, her tone light but her eyes distant. “They died when I was four, leaving my little sister and me to fend for ourselves on the streets of Aldcliff.”

  Eldric’s grin fades. “That’s terrible,” he says softly.

  Nyssa shrugs, though there’s a heaviness in her expression. “Yeah, it wasn’t easy. It was just the two of us, and I had to look after her. I taught myself how to steal so we could survive.”

  She pauses, her fingers idly twirling a strand of hair as her gaze drifts off to some unseen memory. “Nothing crazy—just food, really. But I got good at it. I remember one time I managed to swipe six loaves of bread from this obnoxious merchant. Didn’t even notice me. Six whole loaves!” Her face lights up with a proud smile. “That night, my sister and I shared a feast with some of the other orphans. It felt like a grand celebration.”

  Eldric chuckles. “Impressive. A real Robin Hood.”

  Nyssa nods, her smile fading as her gaze lowers. “All things considered, life wasn’t too bad for us… until I was ten.” Her voice softens, and she clasps her hands in her lap. “That winter, my sister got sick, really sick. There wasn’t a doctor in the world who would waste their time on two street kids. I had to watch her die in my arms. I couldn’t do anything to save her.”

  The air grows heavy between them. Eldric hesitates for a moment, then reaches out and takes her hand. “That must have been tough,” he whispers.

  Nyssa looks at him, her eyes glistening, and squeezes his hand briefly. “It was,” she says, her voice steadier now. “But we can’t change the past.”

  Eldric nods, letting go of her hand. “So, how does a street thief from Aldcliff end up here, training as part of Alicia’s guard?”

  Nyssa chuckles, her mood lifting slightly. “Well…” She pauses, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. “About two years after my sister passed, I was wandering the streets, minding my own business—or, rather, someone else’s business, because I was about to pick their pocket.”

  Eldric laughs softly, leaning in.

  Nyssa continues, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I saw this beautiful woman in this ridiculously fancy gown strolling through the market. She had this air of importance about her, and it didn’t hurt that she was surrounded by five guards.” Nyssa holds up her hand, fingers spread wide to emphasize the number. “Five guards, mind you. It was like a moving fortress.”

  Eldric grins, intrigued. “So, what happened next?”

  Nyssa’s smile widens as she leans closer, clearly enjoying the storytelling. “Well, that’s when things got interesting…”

  Nyssa points her finger repeatedly at Eldric, her face animated with a matter-of-fact expression. “I could literally feel my fingers becoming sticky in my pockets,” she says, her voice brimming with energy. “But it wasn’t really about her wealth. No, it was the thrill of the challenge. The idea of pulling it off with all those guards around made my spine tingle.” She pauses to pluck a wildflower from the grass, admiring the way it dances in the breeze.

  Eldric leans in, his curiosity piqued. “So, what happened next?”

  Nyssa grins. “Well, I thought I’d actually gotten away with it, at least for a moment. My heart was pounding as I whisked away, weaving through the crowded streets. I didn’t even make it a full block before I felt these massive hands grab me and rip me off my feet like a sack of grain. Next thing I know, I’m flat on my back in the dirt.”

  Eldric stares at her, wide-eyed. “What did you do?”

  Nyssa’s grin widens. “I didn’t have much time to think. Standing over me was this woman—the same one I’d just stolen from. She knelt down, peered into my soul with those piercing green eyes, and said, ‘What on Earth possessed you to think you could steal from the wizard of Aldcliff?’”

  Eldric gasps. “You pickpocketed Alicia?” He lets out a low whistle, half in admiration, half in disbelief. “That is insane. What did she do?”

  Nyssa chuckles. “She looked so angry at first. I thought I was done for. But then she asked me, ‘Did you honestly not see my guards?’ So, I looked her straight in the eye, shrugged, and said, ‘That’s exactly why I did it. I’m no stranger to a good challenge.’”

  Eldric bursts out laughing. “You didn’t.”

  “Oh, I did,” Nyssa says proudly, a mischievous glint in her eye. “For a second, I thought she might incinerate me on the spot with some crazy spell. But then, to my utter shock, she smiled. A full-on, wide grin. She said, ‘Daring. I like that.’”

  Eldric shakes his head, laughing. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope,” Nyssa replies. “Anyway, to make a long story short, Alicia invited me to come live at the castle. But it came with a condition: I had to use my stealthy skills to help her. Of course, I agreed. I mean, what choice did I have? It was either that or back to the streets.”

  Her smile falters slightly as she continues. “At first, I was a total wreck. Life in the castle was nothing like life on the streets. It was overwhelming—so many rules, so much structure. And, well, I don’t exactly thrive on change.” She pauses to shake off the lingering memory.

  “But Alicia was patient with me,” Nyssa adds, her tone brightening again. “I worked as a servant during the day, and by night, I trained in archery with Specialist Drake. He’s Alicia’s best archer, you know.”

  Eldric nods, his admiration growing. “And now?”

  “Now?” Nyssa grins, sitting up straighter. “Now Alicia has me working on something special. She calls it ‘tactical archery.’ The idea is that I sneak into enemy territory, completely undetected, find the perfect vantage point, and make high-profile kills when the moment is right.”

  “That’s… amazing,” Eldric says, his voice low with awe.

  “It is,” Nyssa replies with a hint of pride. “They even gave me a title. They call me a sniper.”

  Nyssa takes a deep breath and brushes a loose strand of hair from her face. “And that brings us to yesterday,” she says. “When I found out my days as a castle servant are officially over. Now I’m training full-time with you guys to become part of Alicia’s personal guard.”

  “Wow,” Eldric says, genuinely impressed. “That’s... amazing.”

  A pleasant aroma drifts by, making Eldric’s stomach growl audibly. Embarrassed, he places a hand over his midsection. “Uh, speaking of amazing… Fiora and Rendrick are cooking dinner. Let’s go see if it’s ready.” He stands, brushing dust off his trousers, and extends a hand to Nyssa.

  “Sure,” Nyssa says with a cheerful smile. She takes his hand, letting him help her to her feet. Together, they jog back toward the fire pit.

  As they approach, Fiora is leaning over the fire, intently stirring the pot of stew hanging over the flames. Without looking up, she calls out, “Eldric! What the heck happened? I thought you were going to fill your water flask.”

  Eldric glances nervously at Nyssa, then back at Fiora. He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh… I ran into Nyssa, and, well, we got distracted talking for a bit.”

  The stirring stops abruptly. Fiora’s grip on the ladle tightens, and her knuckles whiten. Slowly, she lifts her head, her gaze locking onto Nyssa with an icy glare. “Is that so?” she says, her voice cold enough to freeze the fire itself.

  Fiora sets the ladle aside, grabs a bowl, and ladles herself a serving of stew. Without another word, she marches toward the shack, her shoulders stiff with tension. Reaching the door, she pauses only to call back sharply, “Good night!” The door slams shut behind her, shaking the frame.

  Nyssa, Rendrick, and Eldric exchange puzzled glances. The tension lingers in the air for a moment before Rendrick shrugs. “Well… that was something.”

  “Yeah…” Eldric mutters, his appetite dulled by the sudden awkwardness.

  The three of them quietly serve themselves and eat in silence around the fire, the warmth of the flames doing little to melt the chill left by Fiora’s outburst. When their bowls are empty, they wordlessly clean up and head inside to turn in for the night, each retreating to their own corner of the shack.

  The lessons from the previous day fresh in their minds, Eldric, Fiora, Nyssa, and Rendrick wake well before sunrise. The chill of the early morning air seeps through their clothes as they step outside, still yawning and rubbing the sleep from their eyes. The sky is a deep navy blue, the first traces of dawn just beginning to lighten the horizon.

  As would become their routine, Nyssa splits off to report to Specialist Drake, Eldric and Rendrick head to Commander Ellis, and Fiora is left with Cerys.

  When Fiora and Cerys arrive at the hand-to-hand combat area, Cerys eyes her trainee critically. “You’ve had a fine couple of weeks,” she remarks, stretching her arms. “Why don’t we start with a little sparring match to warm up?”

  Fiora nods, taking her position. Cerys doesn’t wait long. “Begin,” she orders.

  Fiora studies Cerys’s stance, her eyes darting to the placement of her opponent’s feet. Left foot forward, right foot back—she’s setting up for a kick, Fiora thinks. Her attention shifts to Cerys’s arms, which are held lower than usual. She’s not planning to punch. Confident in her analysis, Fiora moves in to strike, anticipating Cerys’s kick.

  As predicted, Cerys’s foot lifts. Fiora adjusts, ready to counter the move—until, without warning, Cerys’s foot slams back down. Fiora’s head snaps up just in time to see Cerys’s fist barreling toward her face. The punch lands with a solid crack, sending Fiora sprawling to the ground.

  “You were too quick to judge my attack,” Cerys scolds, standing tall over Fiora. “You need to wait a little longer before assuming what your opponent is planning. Get up. We’re doing it again.”

  Groaning, Fiora sits up, rubbing the back of her head. Her gaze shifts to Eldric, who is jogging laps around the central field, his breath visible in the cold air. Nearby, Rendrick spars with Commander Ellis, their weapons clanging with sharp, rhythmic precision.

  “Fiora!” Cerys’s sharp voice yanks her attention back.

  “Sorry,” Fiora mutters, annoyed, as she clambers to her feet.

  “Sorry, what?” Cerys demands, her tone cutting.

  “Sorry, ma’am!” Fiora shouts, her voice echoing across the courtyard.

  Cerys studies Fiora for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, she moves to a soft patch of grass and sits down, motioning for Fiora to do the same.

  Confused, Fiora hesitates before lowering herself to the ground beside Cerys. She glances at her instructor warily.

  “It sucks, doesn’t it?” Cerys says, her voice softer now as she gestures toward the field.

  “What does?” Fiora asks, still rubbing her sore cheek.

  “The thought that the one person you care about most might slip away from you,” Cerys replies, her eyes fixed on Eldric as he rounds another lap. “No matter how hard you try to stay close, it feels like you’re getting further apart.”

  Fiora’s stomach tightens at the words. Her head snaps toward Cerys. “What are you talking about? How could I lose Eldric?”

  Cerys raises an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “Isn’t that why you’re so cold to others? Because you want to keep him to yourself?”

  Fiora stiffens, her hands balling into fists. “How would you understand anything about how I feel?” she snaps, her voice sharp but defensive.

  Cerys leans back on her hands, letting out a deep sigh. “There’s a reason I insisted on training you one-on-one,” she says, her tone softening. “You and I…we’re more alike than you’d like to admit. And if I can help it, I’d like to save you from making the same mistakes I did when I was your age.”

  Fiora scoffs but looks away, biting her lip. “OK, fine. I feel a story coming on, so just get it over with.”

  Cerys chuckles, the sound warm and unexpected. “Fair enough. When I was about your age, I lost my parents. They were killed by a thief who broke into our home to steal some money.” She pauses, her gaze drifting upward to the open sky. “I was out playing with my friends when it happened. By the time I got home…” She trails off, her voice momentarily faltering. “…the sight was something no child should ever have to see.”

  Fiora’s posture loosens slightly, her gaze shifting to Cerys. For once, she doesn’t interrupt.

  “With no family to turn to, I was forced to live on the streets,” Cerys continues, her voice tinged with bitterness. “At that time, I didn’t see the point of going on. I didn’t care about surviving, let alone thriving. But then, one day, I met someone. Another orphan.”

  Cerys’s eyes drift over to Eldric, who is sparring with Rendrick nearby. Her expression softens, and her voice takes on a bittersweet note. “He gave me companionship when I thought I’d never find it again. He taught me how to survive, how to navigate the streets. And in doing so, he saved my life. He became my hero.”

  Fiora glances at Cerys, her expression wavering between skepticism and curiosity. She feigns disinterest, her eyes fixed on the horizon. “Go on,” she mutters, though her voice is quieter, less sharp than before.

  Cerys stretches her legs out in front of her and exhales deeply. “For years, it was just the two of us, looking out for each other. I owed him everything—my life, my strength, my will to keep going. I didn’t just see him as a friend; I saw him as my whole world.”

  Fiora shifts uncomfortably, but she doesn’t look away.

  “But…” Cerys’s voice grows quieter, tinged with regret. “As time went on, I felt threatened by anyone who got too close to him. I’d lost everything before—my family, my home—and I convinced myself that I couldn’t lose him, too. I clung to him, and I shut everyone else out.”

  Fiora’s face hardens slightly, though her fingers begin to fidget in her lap.

  “When I turned eighteen, he met a girl,” Cerys continues, a bitter smile crossing her lips. “He fell in love with her. And me? I had deluded myself into believing he had always had feelings for me. That he would always choose me.”

  Cerys looks down at the ground, her voice thick with sadness. “But I was wrong. My jealousy, my possessiveness…it drove him away. I pushed him out of my life, all because I couldn’t let anyone else have a piece of him.”

  Fiora’s eyes flicker with something unspoken—perhaps recognition, perhaps shame.

  “It got so bad,” Cerys says with a wry laugh, “that I got into a fight with his girlfriend. Physically. I thought if I could just make her disappear, everything would go back to the way it was. But of course, it didn’t. Instead, I lost them both.”

  “Well?” Fiora presses, her tone betraying a spark of genuine curiosity.

  Cerys lets out a heavy sigh, her voice softening as she continues. “He told me he never wanted to see me again,” she admits, a twinge of pain lacing her words. “I had built my entire world around him, convinced that keeping him close was the only way to hold onto happiness. But in the end, it wasn’t other people who pushed him away. It was me. My jealousy, my attitude—just like yours now—it drove the man I loved right into someone else’s arms.” Her voice falters for a moment. “I didn’t just lose him as a potential partner. I lost my only friend. And Fiora, if you keep this up, you’re going to lose Eldric too.”

  Fiora shifts uncomfortably, her brow furrowing. “So…what did you do after that?” she asks, her voice quieter.

  “I joined the military,” Cerys replies with a small shrug. “At first, it was just to find a purpose, something to keep me going. I never expected to get Alicia’s attention, but for reasons I still don’t fully understand, she saw potential in me. She took me under her wing, and I trained under her previous adviser. Through that, I found something I thought I’d lost forever—a new sense of belonging and purpose. And, in time, a true friend.”

  Fiora lets out a long sigh, staring down at her hands. “So…what am I supposed to do?” she asks, her voice tinged with frustration.

  “I’m not saying you need to change completely,” Cerys replies, leaning forward. “But at least try. You don’t have to be best friends with Rendrick and Nyssa, but you do need to trust them. You’re a team now, and whether you like it or not, you need to rely on each other. And if you can’t do it for yourself, do it for Eldric. He’s the glue holding this group together.”

  Cerys meets Fiora’s gaze, her expression intense. “Change, even if just a little, for him. Or you will lose him.”

  Fiora looks across the courtyard, her gaze landing on Nyssa, who is diligently practicing at the archery range. After a long moment, she speaks, her voice quiet but firm. “I’ll try… I can’t lose him,” she whispers, almost to herself.

  Cerys watches her, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. Amazing, she thinks to herself. A sob story and a little push, and I’ve got her right where I need her. Eldric truly is the key to controlling her.

  Rising to her feet, Cerys extends a hand to Fiora. “There’s hope for you yet,” she says with a smirk. “Even with all your stubbornness, you can see the need to change.”

  Fiora takes her hand and stands. “I’ll treat them nicer,” she says, her tone icy, “but I’m not here to make friends.”

  “Good enough for me,” Cerys replies, brushing off her hands. “Now, let’s get back to training, shall we?”

  That evening, after being dismissed for the day, Fiora heads back to the shack. She spots the others already gathered around the fire pit. Eldric and Rendrick are stoking the flames, while Nyssa busily prepares ingredients for dinner. As Fiora approaches, Nyssa looks up and beams.

  “Hi, Fiora!” Nyssa says brightly, waving her over. “We’re just about to start cooking! Come join us!”

  To Eldric’s utter astonishment, Fiora’s face breaks into a genuine smile. “Sure thing!” she chirps. “Let’s grab some more firewood from around back.”

  Nyssa nods enthusiastically, and the two head off together, chatting and laughing as they go. Eldric and Rendrick exchange bewildered glances.

  “Did Fiora just smile at Nyssa?” Eldric asks, his voice laced with disbelief.

  “She must’ve been hit on the head during training,” Rendrick replies, shaking his head in confusion.

  Moments later, Fiora and Nyssa return, each carrying an armful of firewood. They dump their loads next to the fire pit, still giggling like old friends. Eldric watches them, his brow furrowed.

  What the hell is going on? he wonders. Fiora has never smiled at Nyssa. Ever.

  As the group settles down, Fiora suddenly stands. “I’ll be right back,” she says, her tone cheerful. She glances at Eldric briefly before heading toward the well. When she reaches it, her smile fades. Leaning over the stone edge, she lets out a heavy sigh.

  “This…is going to be so annoying,” she mutters under her breath before straightening up and forcing a smile as she heads back to the group.