As the murmur of the crowd faded into a tense hush, Rowena's voice was a whisper towards Asher, "Asher," she called out to him with the hint of a smile, softening the edges of her usually formidable presence, "Return victorious."
She knew there was no need to say that, but she still wanted him to hear it.
Her words weren't a command; they were a sign of faith, and Asher felt them like sunlight breaking through clouds.
He smiled back, a quiet promise, and nodded. With a relaxed breath, he stepped into the circle of the arena where the sand underfoot whispered of battles past.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Isola, her midnight blue dress a stark contrast against the sea of spectators.
Their eyes met, and in that glance was an entire conversation of silent support and shared strength.
Isola was brimming with anticipation as well since this spar could help everyone see how powerful Asher and how much he had sacrificed to get here.
