The morning air was crisp and fresh, carrying the scent of dew and distant fires. He inhaled deeply, letting the cool breeze fill his lungs, grounding him in the moment.
From the courtyard below, the sounds of the waking world reached him,clanking weapons, hurried footsteps, voices talking in hushed but urgent tones. Fighters preparing for their matches.
Eventually, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in," Gon said without looking away from the window.
The door squeaked open, and a firm voice followed.
"The tournament is about to start, Lord Gon," the guard announced.
Gon let out a long, weary sigh as he pushed himself up from the floor.
Slowly, he reached for his sword, his fingers wrapping tightly around the worn handle, the familiar weight grounding him.
He stood there for a moment, staring at the weapon in his hand. The dim light in the room glinted off the steel, casting faint reflections on the walls.
Taking a deep breath, he finally turned toward the door.
