In the quiet of the evening, as I made my way back to the modest quarters I shared with Lily, the doubts that had once clouded my thoughts seemed a little less daunting, the weight of my decision a little less burdensome.
I was not just enduring the rigors of training; I was evolving, each day's trials sculpting from within me the warrior I was destined to become.
In the aftermath of the sparring session that had unexpectedly set me apart, I found myself under the discerning eye of Toren, one of the sanctuary's most revered instructors.
Toren, with his weathered features and a gaze that seemed to pierce through the veneer of one's soul, was a figure who commanded respect not through words, but through the silent stories etched in the lines of his face and the scars that adorned his arms—each a testament to battles fought and won.
