Fallon
The cold wind bit through my cloak as I walked back toward the training yard. Every part of me ached from the constant strain of training, but the soreness was oddly comforting. It meant I was pushing myself, and that was the only way I could keep up in this brutal world of Valdyrs.
I had barely slept the night before. The memory of Kane's cold green eyes, his indifferent words, still lingered in my mind. His comments about pushing me harder, about testing my limitsâit all felt like more than just a mentor's obligation. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else behind it, something hidden beneath the surface.
I needed to prove him wrong. I needed to show him that I wasn't weak, that I could handle whatever challenge he threw at me. The idea of failing, of letting him see me falter, made my stomach twist in knots.
"Fallon!"
I turned at the sound of my name. Aela stood by the edge of the training yard, her eyes scanning the surroundings as if searching for someone.
"Over here!" she called again, waving me over.
I crossed the yard toward her, my boots crunching in the gravel beneath me. The tension in my body hadn't eased since my conversation with Kane the night before. Aela's smile seemed to be the only thing that could break through the storm brewing inside of me.
"Hey, I've been looking for you," Aela said, her voice light, but I could see the concern in her eyes. "How's the training going?"
I hesitated, trying to push aside the frustration and uncertainty that had been building since the moment Kane had spoken to me. "It's fine," I said, my voice stiff. "Just... difficult."
Aela raised an eyebrow. "Difficult how?"
"Just... trying to keep up," I admitted, glancing down at my hands. They were still sore from the last round of sword drills. "Kane pushes me harder than I thought he would."
Aela's expression softened, and for a moment, she looked almost sympathetic. "You know, he's not easy on anyone. But if he's pushing you this hard, it means he sees something in you. Don't let it get to you."
I nodded, grateful for Aela's words, but they didn't entirely ease the unease stirring in my chest. Kane's harsh methods, the way he looked at me like I wasn't measuring upâit was all too much to process. Yet, somehow, his harshness only fueled my desire to prove him wrong.
"I just don't understand why he's so... cold," I said quietly. "He treats me like I'm not good enough, like I'm not even close to being ready."
Aela's lips twitched into a small smile. "Because you're not," she said bluntly, but there was no malice in her tone. "You've got the skills, Fallon. But you're not the finished product yet. Kane sees that. And he's trying to make sure you're ready for whatever comes next."
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "It just feels like... like I'm being pushed to the brink for something I don't fully understand."
Aela's gaze softened, and she placed a hand on my shoulder. "You'll figure it out. You always do. But for now, just focus on getting better. The rest will come."
I smiled faintly at her encouragement. Aela was always the calm to my storm, the one who could see through the noise and help me focus. But I still couldn't shake the feeling that there was more at play here, that Kane's insistence on pushing me to my limits was more personal than he was letting on.
Before I could respond, a voice rang out across the yard, cutting through the air like a blade.
"Fallon Draythar! Report to the training arena immediately!"
I stiffened, recognizing the voice instantly. It was Kane's.
My heart pounded in my chest. Here it was. The moment I had been dreading. He was calling me out, and there was no way around it. I was about to face the hardest test yet.
"I'll be right there," I muttered to Aela, who gave me a supportive nod before stepping back to watch from a distance.
With every step I took toward the arena, my nerves seemed to build, coiling tighter and tighter in my chest. It wasn't just fear of failure anymoreâit was something else. A mix of anticipation and dread, as if I were walking toward something inevitable.
When I entered the arena, Kane was already there, his posture as imposing as ever. His eyes locked onto mine, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.
"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice low and calculating.
I nodded, my jaw set. "Ready."
"Good," he said, his lips curling into something that almost resembled a smirk. "Then show me what you're made of."
Without another word, Kane drew his sword in one swift motion, the blade gleaming under the harsh sunlight. My heart skipped a beat. I had seen him fight before, but nothing could have prepared me for the intensity he brought to the arena. His movements were fluid, precise, like he had been born with a weapon in his hand.
I reached for my own sword, the cool metal familiar in my grip. My muscles screamed for relief, but I ignored the pain. This was my chance.
I lunged at Kane, my sword aimed at his side. He deflected the blow effortlessly, his expression still cold, unreadable. I tried again, moving faster this time, hoping to catch him off guard.
But he anticipated my every move, his sword a blur as he parried each strike with ease. My frustration grew, my strikes becoming more forceful, more desperate, but still, he blocked every one.
"You're still thinking too much," Kane said, his voice cutting through the chaos of the fight. "Stop calculating. Just move."
I gritted my teeth, pushing forward. But the harder I tried, the more I seemed to fail. I was outmatched, outclassed. His skill, his precisionâeverything about him seemed perfect. And I couldn't catch up.
"Focus!" Kane barked. "Don't thinkâfeel the fight."
His words rang in my mind, and for the first time, I did what he said. I stopped thinking. I let my body move with the rhythm of the fight, responding to his attacks without hesitation. The world around me blurred into a whirlwind of motion, and I felt the fight in my bones.
For a brief moment, I thought I saw a flicker of approval in Kane's eyes. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the same cold, calculating gaze. He was watching me, analyzing me, waiting for me to slip up.
And then, in a flash, he disarmed me. My sword flew from my hand, landing several feet away. I froze, staring at him in disbelief.
"You're not there yet," Kane said quietly, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But you're getting closer."
I wanted to scream, to demand more, to show him that I was capable of more. But I couldn't. Not when I had failed again.
Kane sheathed his sword, his expression unreadable. He gave me a fleeting glance before turning toward the edge of the arena.
"Tomorrow," he said over his shoulder. "We'll do it again."
And with that, he walked away, leaving me standing there, alone in the arena, with nothing but the weight of my failure to keep me company.