Adrian sat cross-legged on the cool stone floor of the castle courtyard, his small hands folded neatly in his lap. The sun glinted off the polished wooden practice sword in his grasp, but his attention wasn't on the sword itself—it was on his father.
Leon Leonhart moved with a fluid grace that only years of practice could produce. Each swing, step, and shift of weight was deliberate, yet almost effortless, as if the air itself bent to follow his command. Even without magic, his presence commanded respect. Adrian had watched him countless times, but today felt different. Today, he wasn't just watching a father wield a sword—he was observing a master at work, learning lessons for the future.
Celestia knelt beside him, her silver hair catching the sunlight. "Watch carefully, Adrian," she said softly. "Every movement tells a story. Don't imitate yet. Observe, think, and understand."
Adrian's blue eyes were serious, almost unnervingly focused for a three-year-old. "I'm watching, Mama. I need to see… I need to remember how to do it later. Safely," he said. His voice was quiet, calm, and deliberate—more like a strategist than a child.
Leon paused mid-swing and glanced at him, one sharp red eye flicking over him. A small smirk appeared. "Not yet, little prince," he said, his tone calm but teasing. "You're not ready for the fancy moves. Basics first. You can handle that, right?"
Adrian tilted his head, weighing the words carefully. "Basics first… yes. I understand. I can watch, then I can try… safely."
Celestia reached out, brushing a strand of silver hair from his forehead. "Observation is just as important as practice, Adrian. Every move you see, every detail you notice… it will help you later."
Leon adjusted his stance and demonstrated a simple footwork pattern: step forward, pivot, shift weight, hold the sword in a ready position. "Balance is everything," he said. "Your sword follows your body. If your feet wobble, your arms wobble. Everything flows from the stance."
Adrian leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing as he studied each detail. He counted the steps in his mind, noting how the weight shifted, how the sword aligned with his father's body. Then he noticed the subtle rhythm in Leon's breathing and how each step seemed to anticipate the next movement.
"He… he's predicting the next motion with his body, not just the sword," Adrian murmured to himself. "I have to do the same if I want to be ready… not just for practice, but for others."
Leon crouched slightly, lowering himself to Adrian's level. "Not bad, little prince," he said, smirking faintly. "Your stance is okay, but your feet are too close together. You'd topple if someone pushed you. Balance first. Understand?"
Adrian nodded, adjusting his small feet carefully. "Yes… balance first. Think before moving."
Leon's smirk softened, a spark of pride in his red eyes. "Exactly. The sword doesn't fight for you. Your mind guides it. Patience, observation, and control—that's all that matters right now."
Adrian mirrored his father's stance with the wooden practice sword, wobbling slightly but focusing intently. He wasn't rushing, wasn't trying to swing as fast as Leon—he was thinking ahead. In his mind, he imagined every step, every shift in weight, and how each adjustment might matter in a real fight or in protecting someone he cared about.
Celestia watched him quietly, smiling softly. "He's already thinking beyond his age," she murmured. "Even at three, he's learning discipline and foresight."
Leon crouched again beside Adrian, voice gentle but precise. "Better. But your hands… they're gripping too tight. Let the sword flow with your body, not fight against it. Feel it. Think about the motion before you act."
Adrian's small fingers relaxed slightly around the hilt. "Flow… feel… think before acting," he repeated, nodding. Even in his soft voice, there was clarity, a maturity beyond his years.
"Good," Leon said, a hint of sass in his tone. "I like that. You're thinking like a little strategist already. Now, try a small pivot with your footwork. Slowly. Don't rush."
Adrian obeyed, moving his tiny feet carefully, observing how the weight shifted. He made a small misstep, almost tipping forward, but immediately corrected himself. "I… see," he whispered. "Adjust… anticipate… balance."
Leon smiled faintly, brushing his son's hair back gently. "Exactly. You're learning control, little prince. That's more important than swinging wildly. Remember, even the strongest fighters fall without patience."
Adrian's lips curled into a small, serious smile. "Patience… control… observation." His eyes glanced at the sword in his hands and then back at his father. "I can use this to protect… and to help… others."
Celestia's blue eyes softened. "Yes, Adrian. That's why we practice. Strength without thought isn't enough. Wisdom, foresight, and care are just as important."
Leon crouched once more, studying Adrian with sharp, approving eyes. "You're already thinking ahead. That's impressive for your age… or maybe even beyond it. Focus on the basics, but keep your mind sharp. Observation is as dangerous as any sword in the right hands."
Adrian nodded, adjusting his stance again, holding the practice sword steadily. He noticed the subtle details in Leon's demonstration: the slight bend in his knees, the angle of the sword, even the way Leon shifted his weight slightly before each pivot. "Everything matters," he murmured. "Even the smallest movement."
Leon's smirk returned, a spark of pride and sass in his expression. "Exactly, little prince. You're clever. Keep that mind sharp, and you'll move more than just swords—you'll move people, situations, and outcomes."
Adrian's small smile widened, a glimmer of quiet determination in his eyes. He wasn't just learning to swing a sword—he was learning discipline, strategy, and foresight. He remembered memories from his previous life, the pain of loss, and the promise he had made: to save those he cared about. Every careful movement, every observation, every tiny adjustment was a step toward keeping that promise.
Celestia leaned closer, brushing a strand of silver hair from his forehead. "See, Adrian? Even without magic, you're learning strength. Patience, focus, observation… those are your true tools right now."
Leon placed a hand gently on Adrian's shoulder, his red eyes soft but focused. "Clever, careful, and thoughtful. That's the start of a strong foundation, little prince. One day, you'll move like this naturally. For now, remember: patience first, thought always, action second."
Adrian looked down at the wooden sword, then back at his father. "I understand. Think… observe… act. Protect… help…" He whispered the words carefully, each syllable carrying the weight of his reincarnated wisdom.
Leon crouched beside him, brushing the hair from his forehead once more. "Exactly. That's my boy. Smart, calm, careful. You're learning the right lessons. Strength, skill, and power will come in time, but control and thought… those are what make a true warrior—and a true ruler."
Adrian's small smile glimmered with determination. "I'll keep learning… every day."
Leon chuckled softly. "I know you will, little prince. I know you will."
Celestia's eyes softened, watching her son's focus. "Even at three, you're showing wisdom far beyond your years," she said quietly. "I'm proud of you, Adrian."
Adrian grinned faintly, feeling a quiet sense of accomplishment. He had learned the basics, practiced with care, and absorbed lessons far beyond his physical ability. Observation, patience, discipline, and foresight—these were his new tools. One day, they would allow him to fulfill his promise and protect those he loved.
And in the quiet castle courtyard, three-year-old Adrian already felt the weight of responsibility, the spark of strategy, and the calm focus of someone who had lived before and would live again—ready to learn, ready to grow, and ready to act when the time came.
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The morning sun spilled into the castle courtyard, warming the stones where Adrian stood with his small wooden practice sword. Today, he wasn't just watching his father. Today, he had a task: Leon had arranged a set of small obstacles—cones, low hurdles, and wooden posts—to test Adrian's footwork and balance, though he called it a "game."
Adrian's blue eyes scanned the layout carefully. His three-year-old body was small, but his mind worked quickly, recalling the lessons from yesterday: observe first, think carefully, act second.
Celestia knelt nearby, smiling. "Remember, Adrian. It's not about speed. Watch the layout first, then plan your steps."
Adrian nodded seriously. "Yes, Mama. Watch, plan, then move."
Leon, leaning on his practice sword, smirked with a mix of pride and sass. "Little prince, don't rush. Every step counts. I've seen adults stumble here if they're careless. Think carefully, not quickly."
Adrian crouched slightly, examining the first hurdle. "Hmm… I need to step wide here… then pivot… then—" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I can step over the post slowly, not rush. That way I won't trip."
Leon raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like planning. Good. You're using that sharp mind of yours… for once, thinking more than moving."
Adrian giggled. "I'm always thinking, Father. Even when I look like I'm not."
Celestia laughed softly. "He's right. Observation isn't always obvious, but it matters."
"Exactly," Leon said, crouching slightly. "Now show me how your planning works. Step carefully through the first hurdle."
Adrian placed his small foot carefully, balancing perfectly as he stepped over the low post. He moved slowly but deliberately, pivoting at the correct angle, and avoided brushing against the wooden obstacles.
Leon smirked with approval. "Not bad. You didn't just move—you anticipated. That's what I like to see."
Adrian's eyes scanned the next section. "Hmm… the cones are tricky. If I go too fast, I might knock them down. If I go too slow, I waste time… but speed isn't the point. Focus first." He stepped lightly between the cones, counting each step in his head, adjusting his balance.
Celestia's voice was gentle but proud. "You're doing wonderfully, Adrian. You're thinking ahead, just like a strategist."
Adrian reached the final hurdle, a small wooden post set slightly higher than the others. He paused, remembering Leon's words about balance and footwork. "I need to pivot here… keep my center of gravity… then step carefully."
He moved precisely, holding the wooden sword as if it were a real weapon, and cleared the obstacle without losing balance. A small triumphant grin spread across his face.
Leon let out a soft laugh, leaning on his sword. "Well, well… clever little prince. Not only did you move carefully, but you planned ahead. I see you learned something from yesterday after all."
Adrian looked up at his father, pride shining in his small blue eyes. "I remembered what you said… watch first, then act. And Mama reminded me too."
Celestia nodded, brushing his silver hair back. "You remembered both lessons. Observation and patience are always your first tools. Even a sword can't help without a mind guiding it."
Adrian's thoughts drifted for a moment, thinking about the promise he carried from his past life—the childhood friend he had failed to save. Each step, each careful observation, each thoughtful decision felt like training not just for swordsmanship, but for protecting others in the future. "I have to be careful… think first… so I can save them next time," he whispered to himself.
Leon crouched beside him, eyes sharp but gentle. "You're more than just a small child, Adrian. You're learning the right lessons. Cleverness, patience, foresight… those are more dangerous than any sword if you use them wisely."
Adrian nodded. "I understand, Father. I'll keep thinking… and practicing."
Leon smirked, ruffling his son's hair lightly. "Good. That's my boy. Smart, careful, and thoughtful. One day, your movements won't just protect yourself—they'll protect everything you care about."
Celestia smiled softly. "You've taken great strides today, Adrian. Even without magic, you're learning the skills that truly matter: patience, observation, and strategy."
Adrian looked at the obstacles he had just crossed. "I want to keep practicing… I want to get even better. One day, I'll be able to protect everyone."
Leon's red eyes softened as he watched his son. "And you will, little prince. But remember… every master starts with the basics. Today, you proved that even a three-year-old can think like a strategist. That's more than enough for now."
Adrian smiled brightly, feeling proud. He had learned lessons of patience, foresight, and careful planning, proving that even as a small child, he could think and act beyond his years.
Celestia reached down to lift him into her lap, brushing his silver hair back. "Clever, careful, and thoughtful. I'm so proud of you, Adrian."
Leon crouched once more, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "You've got the mind of a leader already, little prince. Strength, skill, and power will come with time. For now, keep your mind sharp… and your heart steady. That's all you need."
Adrian nodded solemnly, already thinking about tomorrow—about practicing footwork, observing patterns, and remembering every lesson. Every movement, every careful decision, every step forward was preparation for the future, for saving the people he cared about, and for becoming the leader he was meant to be.