The training hall was eerily silent, the only sounds being the distant crackling of torches along the stone walls and the faint whistle of wind seeping through the narrow windows. The scent of aged wood and steel lingered in the air, a reminder of the countless warriors who had once trained here.
Darian stood alone in the vast space, his hand resting on the hilt of his practice sword. His earlier lecture with Aldric echoed in his mind—the old knight's firm words emphasizing patience, discipline, and mastery of the fundamentals. But Darian felt a storm within him, a restless urgency that gnawed at his soul. The conventional path Aldric insisted upon felt slow, methodical, and far removed from the true intensity of battle.
He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening around the hilt.
"How am I supposed to understand the way of the sword if I never experience the raw edge of combat?"
Aldric had refused to let him wield a real sword until he was deemed ready, but Darian couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something crucial. He had glimpsed the edge of enlightenment once before—an instinctual clarity in the heat of a fight, when his body moved without thought, guided only by survival and instinct. That moment had felt truer than any lesson or drill.
But how could he reach that state again when he was bound by these restrictions? He needed more than just drills. He needed real danger, real stakes.
Lost in thought, he sheathed his training blade and turned toward the exit. The cold stone beneath his boots echoed softly as he made his way through the dimly lit corridors of the stronghold. The scent of food drifted through the air, drawing him toward his quarters.
As he pushed open the heavy wooden door, the warm glow of candlelight greeted him. Marie stood by the table, carefully setting down a plate of food. The simple meal of roasted meat, bread, and vegetables was a familiar sight, yet tonight, it felt strangely distant from his thoughts.
Marie glanced at him, her expression calm yet observant. "You are late. I presume training kept you occupied?"
Darian looked at marie who was looking at him.
Having seen each other for quite a long time in their routine, marie is more at ease with darian than before.
Darian hesitated before nodding, his mind still tangled in contemplation. He moved toward the table, his gaze distant as he sat down.
Marie studied him for a moment before placing a cup of water beside his plate. "You appear troubled, my lord. Has something weighed upon your mind?"
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Just thinking…"
Marie inclined her head slightly. "Might I inquire as to what troubles you?"
Darian stared at his plate, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across his face.
"About how I can truly get stronger."
Marie fell silent, her gaze lingering on Darian as his words settled in the air between them. The flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across her face, accentuating the quiet depth in her eyes. Her hands, which had been gently adjusting the placement of the cup, stilled as she considered his words.
There was something different about him. This was not the recklessvboy she had once known—the one who wielded his sword, swinging blindly at whatever lay before him. No, this was someone else entirely. A man who questioned, who sought something deeper.
Her expression remained composed, but within, she wavered. Should she speak? Offer her thoughts? It was not her place to do so, yet she had been watching him, observing the way he moved forward, reshaping himself bit by bit. If he truly wished to grow stronger, then perhaps…
Her fingers lightly brushed the fabric of her sleeve as she made her decision.
"There are paths beyond what Sir Aldric has set for you,my lord. Paths that require understanding, not just of technique, but of yourself." She paused, choosing her next words carefully. "If you truly seek strength, then perhaps… you must first determine what it is that you truly lack."
Darian lifted his gaze, the troubled expression in his eyes flickering with curiosity. Marie met his stare, unflinching.
Her voice was calm, but there was weight behind it. A quiet challenge. An invitation.
Would he listen? Would he take her words to heart?
Marie could not know. But if Darian was to continue down this path—if he was to truly embrace the change he had begun—then guiding him, even in the smallest of ways, would serve her purpose as well.