Days blurred into weeks.
The first few days of training with Aurelia were unbearable. She was relentless, her patience thinner than paper, and her standards impossibly high. Every mistake was met with a sharp critique, every failure was met with a cold glare.
But she never gave up on me.
And I didn't give up either.
At first, I hated it. The constant drills, the aching muscles, the sting of her words when I couldn't meet her expectations. I had never been trained before, never been expected to fight. My entire life, I had been locked away, left alone with books, with thoughts, with loneliness. Now, suddenly, I was being forced into a world I didn't understand, forced to swing blades I didn't know how to wield.
The first time I dropped a sword in the middle of a lesson, Aurelia's golden eyes burned with irritation.
"That's weak."
The word made something inside me flinch.
She picked up the sword and shoved it back into my hands.
"Again."
I tried again. I failed again.
