It took Thorne but a moment to pass through the academy gates, his presence acknowledged with respectful nods from the guards. After a brief inquiry, he headed toward the training grounds, the familiar clink of weapons and rhythmic shouts growing louder with each step. The scent of sweat, earth, and metal filled the air—a tangible pulse of energy that seemed to vibrate through the very stones beneath his feet.
As he entered, his spiritual gaze extended, seeking out the familiar aura he knew so well. The courtyard stretched wide, its packed dirt surface dotted with trainees locked in combat, their movements precise and fierce under the watchful eyes of instructors. Some practiced weapon drills, while others engaged in hand-to-hand sparring. His gaze swept over the bustling scene until it landed on a familiar figure.
A smile tugged at his lips. There she was—Kaesa—her lithe form dancing through the melee as she exchanged blows with a fellow trainee. Her movements were fluid, almost mesmerizing, each strike and parry a testament to years of relentless training. Sweat glistened on her brow, but her eyes were sharp, focused, every muscle in her body coiled like a spring ready to unleash.
Her opponent, a broad-shouldered boy nearly twice her size, lunged forward with a powerful right hook. Kaesa sidestepped effortlessly, her body weaving like a reed in the wind. She countered with a swift elbow to his ribs, followed by a sweeping kick that sent him sprawling to the ground. She didn't gloat, didn't pause—she simply reset her stance, waiting for him to rise.
"Still bullying the bigger ones, I see," Thorne called out as he stepped out from the trainees, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Kaesa's head snapped toward him, looking for who her eyes narrowing before a slow smile spread across her face.
"Well, look who decided to show up," she shot back, her tone teasing but warm.
"Back from your grand adventure, are you?"
He approached, dropping his outer cloak to reveal a simple training tunic beneath.
"Care for a round?"
The other trainee, rubbing his sore ribs, wisely stepped aside. Kaesa's smile widened.
"I thought you'd never ask."
They circled each other, the atmosphere around them shifting—less banter, more focus. The other trainees paused, forming an informal ring around them. This wasn't just a friendly spar; it was a reunion of kindred spirits, each testing the other's mettle.
Kaesa struck first, a quick jab aimed at his midsection. Thorne deflected it, his reflexes honed from his time in the Garden of the Gods. He countered with a sweeping palm strike, but she danced back, light on her feet.
"Your stance has improved," she remarked, eyes narrowing.
"You've been practicing."
"Survival has a way of sharpening skills," he replied, his voice calm but eyes locked on hers.
She lunged again, this time feinting low before pivoting into a high kick. Thorne barely dodged, feeling the wind of her foot grazing past his face. He seized the opening, stepping in close and aiming a shoulder check. It connected, sending her stumbling back a few paces, but she recovered instantly, a grin flashing across her face.
"Not bad," she admitted.
"But let's see how you handle this."
She moved in a blur, a flurry of strikes and kicks that tested his every defense. Thorne blocked and parried, his movements fluid but calculated. Each exchange was like a dance, a rhythm only they understood—a language of motion and instinct. Sweat began to bead on his brow, but he didn't falter.
Finally, she saw an opening and swept his legs out from under him. Thorne hit the ground but rolled back to his feet, breathing hard but smiling.
"Yield?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Never," he shot back, launching himself at her. They collided in a controlled grapple, each straining for dominance.
Kaesa's strength was deceptive; beneath her slender frame lay a core of iron. But Thorne had his own reserves, forged through trials she couldn't yet imagine.
Their sparring continued, neither willing to give an inch, the air around them charged with energy. The onlookers watched in rapt silence, witnessing a battle that was as much about respect as it was about skill.
Finally, they broke apart, both breathing heavily but grinning. Kaesa extended a hand, which Thorne clasped firmly.
"You've gotten stronger," she acknowledged, her eyes gleaming with pride.
"So have you," he replied, feeling a deep sense of camaraderie.
Of course he had no delusions that he could beat Kaesa, just the fact that she was now a Veiled meant it was impossible.
The crowd began to disperse, the moment of intensity giving way to a more relaxed atmosphere. Kaesa clapped him on the shoulder.
"Come on," she said.
"You owe me stories. And I want to hear everything."
Thorne smiled. "Let's find somewhere quiet, then. There's much to tell."