The sun had barely risen that cold morning. Its weak shadows passed through the light, swaying curtains of the large room.
Alyssane was in the center of the room, gripping the sword tightly. Her breathing was shallow, her body trembling with exhaustion, but she refused to stop. She couldn't bear to see herself falter again and again whenever they trained.
Kazmun held the sessions every other day, constantly reminding her of another weakness. Perhaps she wouldn't have to bear his scrutiny if she learned fast enough.
Perhaps he would break the silence that was always there.
The blade sliced through the air, the motion sharp yet unsteady. Sweat beaded her brow as she swung again and again, each stroke a little weaker than the last.
'At least I no longer have time to worry about losing myself.'
