The sun had barely risen when Eamon found himself standing in the open courtyard behind the Malachim training grounds. It was a secluded spot, hidden from the busy streets of the city, with tall stone walls that gave the impression of a fortress.
The early morning air was crisp, carrying a slight chill, though Eamon barely noticed. His mind was preoccupied with what lay ahead.
Arc stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his usual no-nonsense demeanor firmly in place. Crescent, Quill, and Gibbous were nearby, each of them observing in their own way. Gibbous, her sharp eyes watching intently, leaned against the stone wall, while Crescent stood closer to Eamon, offering silent support.
Quill was off to the side, sharpening a blade he likely didn't need, but the rhythmic sound of metal on stone gave him something to focus on.
