The special training rooms had an intensity all their own.
Far removed from the bustling atmosphere of the academy's usual training grounds.
Reserved only for top-tier students.
The room's silence, heightened by the ambient hum of protective enchantments, felt dense, expectant.
Draven and Ariana faced off, each gripping wooden practice swords.
But only one of them seemed fully focused.
Draven swung his sword in a controlled arc, aiming for her shoulder.
A simple, predictable move that she'd blocked hundreds of times in their years training together.
Yet, to his surprise, Ariana hesitated.
The wooden sword connected with her shoulder, making her wince.
"Ari, what's up with you?"
Draven asked, concern evident in his eyes.
"You could've blocked that in your sleep.
Don't tell me you're getting rusty on me."
Ariana forced a grin.
Shrugging off the hit as she readied her stance again.
