The training yards lay quiet under the rising sun, a faint light spreading over the dusty fields.
Dummies stood battered, split from three days of swings, straw piled loose on the ground.
Wooden walls rose marked and worn, ropes hung still over pits, and spiked barriers waited in the dirt.
The air stayed cool, no boots hitting, no voices loud, just a pause after the work.
A few mages stretched near the sides, moving slow, while others sat resting, heads back, drinking in the stillness.
Gon woke late in the quarters, eyes tired, body sore but glad it was over.
He got out of his cot, joints stiff, and pulled on his boots, taking his time.
His legs ached, shoulders too, the obstacle course hanging on, walls, ropes, pits.
A dull throb sat in his muscles, a reminder of the strain, but he welcomed it.
Pain meant progress, proof he'd pushed himself past where he started.
He stepped outside, sun just up, and wandered into the empty yards, stretching his legs.
