I sat up from the bed, wincing with every motion.
My body still a wreck from the duel.
Each breath trembled as pain shot through my ribs.
"Crap," I muttered.
"Easy, kid!" Sango snapped. "You'll make it worse if you keep moving."
I had told him not to heal me.
I missed the pain—the aftermath of a good fight.
It reminded me I was still alive.
I leaned back against the headboard.
The battle replayed in my mind—again and again.
I smiled.
I did it.
I overcame him.
Maybe I could do the same for—
"Don't even think about it," Sango boomed.
"I already told you—do not mess with Baron Faux."
His words landed heavy.
"Yes, you did," I replied. "But you refuse to say why. Just once—give me a reason."
Silence.
Not a word.
Then—
Crack!
Pain burst through my skull.
I screamed, clutching my head as I crashed to the floor.
Flashes.
Memories.
But they weren't mine.
Each one—carved in pain.
And then—
I heard her voice.
Freya.
"Help me!" she cried.
Her screams echoed through my mind.
I covered my ears—
But it was no use.
I crumbled to the ground.
Breathing shallow.
Hands trembling.
And just as suddenly—
It stopped.
"What was that?" I gasped.
Sango muttered under his breath.
Unhappy.
"That…" he said, voice low,
"was a message."
"A message from who? Freya?"
"I believe so. And it means things just got worse."
My fists clenched.
"Listen, kid," Sango said.
"Baron Faux is an Awakened like you—but stronger. He can control others like us. That alone should show you the gap between you."
"Really?" I hissed. "Where's the pride you preach about?"
"Watch your tongue," he warned.
"I have pride. But I'm not impulsive."
The room fell into silence.
Thick. Sharp.
He exhaled.
Then spoke.
"I may not like the girl… but I can sympathize."
"Baron Faux was awakened by a god—
A fallen angel named Abaddon."
"He rules with fear. Chains his people to his will. Their fates, bound to his presence."
His voice—no longer proud.
Just… tired.
"I've seen what he can do firsthand.
I know I can't beat him.
And neither can you."
"Did you try?" I asked.
"What?"
"Did you even try to fight him?"
"I didn't need to. His presence was enough of a warning."
I looked down.
Then started laughing.
Soft at first.
Then louder.
"You were scared," I said.
"A warrior god who runs from a fight? That's not a god.
The pride you made me swear to… you lost that years ago."
I felt him stir.
His anger—deep and rumbling.
"I will go after Baron Faux," I said.
"And I will defeat him."
My voice held no doubt.
Sango quieted.
"Do as you wish," he finally said.
"But it's your funeral."
A small smile tugged at my lips.
Maybe I had convinced him a little.
"Just remember, child," he said.
"Pride only wins the battles your strength can carry."
I stared into the silence.
Into the emptiness.
Those were my words once.
If that was true—
Then I'd just get stronger.
Strong enough to carry my pride to Baron Faux's doorstep.
A knock pulled me out of my thoughts.
"Sir," Raleigh called from the other side.
"You have a visitor."
I sat up, one hand resting gently over my broken ribs.
A visitor?
Who…?
The door opened.
And she stepped in.
The princess.
Clad in brilliant gold armor, shining with jewels and priceless ornaments.
At her side—
A beautiful sword.
The hilt carved intricately, wrapped in elegant ribbons.
She walked slowly.
Each step—deliberate.
Poised.
Perfect.
What was she doing here?
"Hello, Mason," she said, stopping just short of the bed.
A soft smile on her face.
"You're looking well."
I couldn't tell if she was joking or serious.
I tried to stand—out of respect—
But she lifted her hand.
"No need for that," she said.
"Your Highness," I replied.
"Is there something I can help you with?"
"Yes, actually."
She looked me over.
"But I doubt you can help in your current state."
She tilted her head.
"Why haven't you healed?"
I hesitated.
"You can heal, right?" she asked.
"It's part of being Awakened."
I nodded.
"Yes, Your Highness. But… I enjoy the pain of a good fight."
Her reaction caught me off guard.
She scoffed.
"What?" I asked, forgetting my manners.
"A warrior's pride," she said, with a faint laugh.
"That's what you all call it. That sick addiction to danger.
That illusion of strength."
She stepped closer.
Her gaze pierced right through me.
"Teach me that."
My eyes widened.
"What?"
"Teach me how to fight. With that pride."
Her tone—firm.
Her expression—unshakable.
The hell was this?
"Did she lose her mind while watching the duel," Sango said with a hint of humor in his voice.
I chuckled slightly.
"No," I replied matter of fact.
"Why would you—the princess—even want such a thing?" I asked.
She turned away, not saying a word as she walked to the door.
"Doesn't matter," she said, now standing at the door.
"You will teach it to me even if you don't want to."
She said before walking away.
"Get well."
Her voice echoed from the distance.
Sango and I sat dumbfounded.
What just happened?
I leaned back against the headboard, my mind wandering back to Freya.
I needed to get stronger—and fast.
My best way was to stay here and fight against the strongest enemies I could find.
Uneasy, I stood up from my bed.
My face scrunched in pain.
"Where to?" Sango asked.
"Do you want me to get stronger or not?"
He remained quiet.
I stepped out the door and headed for the training ground.
There was no one there—just me.
I looked around, the aftermath of our duel still visible.
The sparring ground filled with holes. The stands broken.
A smile tugged at my lips.
I could get stronger.
I could save Freya.
I could win.
My heart beat to the sound of the drums of war.
My veins crackled with energy.
I closed my eyes, feeling every muscle in my body move to the rhythm.
"Show me your pride," Sango's voice echoed in my head.
"Show me your conviction."