The soft rustle of leaves accompanied the steady chirping of distant birds as Adrian concluded his final swing. The wooden sword stilled in his hand, its weight suddenly heavier than it should have been. His body wasn't tired; he had pushed past such basic training years ago. Yet, this act of swinging a wooden blade was necessary—not for skill, but for appearances.
His breaths came slow and even as Bella approached, carrying a towel and a small flask of water. The light in her amber eyes softened as she neared him, her steps deliberate. She stopped just short of entering the training circle, holding out the items with an almost reverent care.
"You're tired, brother Kael," she said gently, her voice like a melody laced with affection.
Adrian hesitated, then nodded, accepting her gesture. "Thank you," he replied simply, dabbing the sweat from his forehead with the towel.
