Zenith stood in the empty training yard, isolated from the rest of the trainees. He held his staff in his right hand, looking at it for a moment before slowly raising it, as if the movement itself required thought. He didn't want anything to distract him, but the thought wouldn't leave him.
"You're ready, aren't you?" he whispered to himself, but the answer he heard in his mind was empty. In reality, he felt something deeper than mere readiness. He felt the weight of pressure.
He had the ability to understand, the skill, but nothing guaranteed success in the upcoming battle. All he knew was that danger was approaching.
He raised the staff again, this time faster than before, executing a precise motion through the air, imagining an enemy before him. His movements were quick, calculated, but something was missing.
"Things have changed." He said to himself, running his hand through his sweat-drenched hair. "It's not the same as it used to be. Can I face them?"
