The training grounds had become a second home to Kael. A place of pain, growth, and bitter rivalry. One year had passed since the day he collapsed from just twenty pull-ups. Now, he moved through the once-impossible regimen with grim determination. His pace was slower than Selene's, but he could finish all 1000 repetitions - every squat, every punch, every sprint - without collapsing. That alone was a victory.
Dim, flickering lanterns mounted on the cavern walls cast wavering shadows across the stone floor. Kael grunted as he pushed through his final set of sledgehammer hits, sweat dripping from his brow.
"998... 999... 1000," he muttered, slamming the sledgehammer down one last time. The sound echoed like a war drum. His arms trembled. His breath came in ragged bursts. But he was still standing.
"Took you long enough," Selene said, spinning a short blade in her fingers. She had finished her sets an hour ago and looked barely winded. A subtle smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.
Kael looked at her, too tired to be annoyed. "You done flirting with your sword?"
"Are you done flirting with the floor?" she retorted.
Rook stood nearby, arms crossed. He hadn't changed. Same lean, scarred figure. Same impassive look in his face.
"Both of you," Rook said. His voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Time for the daily spar."
Selene was up first.
She drew her twin daggers and stepped into the circle etched in the middle of the stone floor. Her stance was low and balanced, sharp as the weapons in her hands. Kael moved back and leaned against the wall, eager to watch.
Rook stepped in without drawing a weapon. As always.
Selene struck first. A blur of motion. She spun low and aimed a slash at his ankle, following it immediately with a rising jab toward his ribs.
Rook didn't even blink. He pivoted on one foot, letting her blade pass an inch from his leg, and deflected her upward jab with a light tap of his hand.
"Too predictable," he said.
Selene snarled and launched a flurry of attacks. Left dagger for the neck, right for the kidney, a spin for momentum and a kick to follow.
Rook stepped into her space mid-spin, disrupted her balance with a subtle nudge to her shoulder, and she stumbled backward.
Kael winced. He'd seen this exact move at least a dozen times. It always ended the same way.
But not today.
Selene caught herself with one hand and flipped back upright. Her eyes were burning now. Not with anger, but hunger.
"Again," she said.
"You telegraph your anger," Rook said, motioning for her to approach.
Selene didn't wait. She leapt forward, this time feinting a right slash, only to twist in the air and aim for his back.
Rook turned his body just enough to let her blade pass, then struck her shoulder with a palm. The force sent her sliding back across the ground, skidding to a stop.
She gasped, rolling to her knees.
Rook tilted his head. "You've improved. Last year, that spin would've knocked you flat."
Selene smirked through the pain. "Don't patronize me."
But her body was finished. Her limbs trembled. Her lungs couldn't keep up.
Rook stepped aside and turned to Kael. "Your turn."
Kael wiped the sweat from his face and stepped forward, his heart thudding in his chest. He knew what was coming.
He pulled a wooden training sword from the rack. It was heavier than he remembered. Or maybe he was just tired. He entered the ring.
Rook gave no warning.
A blur. A movement.
Kael barely raised his sword in time to block a palm strike. The impact vibrated through his arms. He stumbled backward.
He forced his feet to move. Advanced. Swung the blade.
Rook ducked it with minimal effort. Then slapped Kael on the side of the head.
Kael staggered, heat rushing to his cheeks. He retaliated with a diagonal slash. Rook caught the blade with his forearm and stepped inside, elbowing Kael in the gut. Kael dropped to one knee.
"Up," Rook said.
Kael forced himself up. Again. And again.
The next five minutes were a blur of pain. Rook never moved fast enough to hurt him seriously. But he moved just fast enough to punish every mistake.
Kael swung high. Rook kicked his feet out.
Kael thrust low. Rook pivoted and tapped his forehead.
"You rely too much on brute force," Rook said. "Your stigmata will amplify that one day. But right now, you have nothing but your body. So use it better."
Kael tightened his grip. The shame stung. But he didn't stop.
He lunged.
Rook side-stepped. Kael twisted mid-lunge, changing the angle. A shallow strike grazed Rook's side.
Rook paused.
Selene sat up straighter.
"Better," Rook said. Then promptly tripped Kael and pinned him with a knee.
Kael groaned.
Rook stood. "You grazed me. That's progress."
Kael coughed out a laugh. "That... counts?"
"You tell me," Rook said, helping him up.
The three of them sat by the training circle afterward, drinking from their flasks. No one spoke for a while.
Finally, Rook broke the silence. "One year. You've both made it."
Selene rolled her eyes. "Barely."
Kael smirked. "Says the girl who puked on day one."
"You passed out. Twice."
"Only once after you threw a practice dagger at me."
Rook ignored the banter. "You're ready."
Kael blinked. "For what?"
"Your first mission."
Selene sat up straighter. "Finally."
Rook leaned back. "A rift gate has opened near the edges of the forest. It must be closed. It's unstable, leaking corrupted energy. Minor creatures have started to come through."
Kael's heart raced. "You mean we'll fight something... real?"
Rook nodded. "You will not be alone. I will oversee. But the fight will be yours."
Selene stood, rolling her shoulders. "When do we leave?"
"Tomorrow morning," Rook said. "Prepare yourselves. This isn't training anymore."
Kael stared at his calloused hands. A real mission. He had dreamt of it. Now it felt too soon.
Selene nudged him. "Try not to pass out this time."
Kael grinned. "Only if you don't throw up again."
They both laughed, the sound echoing in the cavern. For the first time in a long while, it wasn't a laugh born of sarcasm or spite.
It was one of comradeship.
And tomorrow, they will step into a battlefield together.
Side by side.