The moment we stepped onto the training field, I could feel the energy shifting. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind of tension that curled around your spine and whispered that something was about to happen.
My fingers flexed around the hilt of my sword, feeling the cool leather beneath my palm. This was where I belonged, where the world narrowed to just me, my opponent, and the blade in my hand.
Professor Velis had divided us into pairs, each of us facing off against someone from our own class. My opponent, a tall, lean guy named Aran, shifted his weight from foot to foot, sizing me up.
He was good; I'd seen him practice before, but the way he held his sword too loose, too relaxed told me he wasn't taking me seriously.
"Ready, Eileen?" Aran smirked, twirling his sword with a casual flourish that made my eyebrows lift.
"Always," I said, stepping into position.
