That morning, Cedric noticed the absence before anyone else.
Owen was never late.
That was the strange part.
The manaless squire was always there quiet, forgettable, occupying space without disturbing it. A constant background detail. So when morning drills began and Owen's place in the line stood empty, something felt… off.
Cedric's eyes flicked across the yard once.
Then again.
"Where's the stray?" he asked casually.
A squire shrugged. "Didn't see him this morning."
Cedric scoffed. "Figures."
He turned away, irritation pricking at the back of his mind for reasons he refused to examine.
Owen was already deep in the woods, before sunrise. Just like Reinhardt said.
The knight marshal stood barefoot in the dirt, shirt loose, hair a mess, stretching like a man who gave absolutely zero respect to rank or dignity.
"You're late," Reinhardt said.
Owen blinked. "I'm early."
Reinhardt grinned. "Exactly. That's late in my book."
Owen didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't.
"Drop the sword," Reinhardt continued. "We're not touching steel today."
Owen hesitated, then obeyed.
Reinhardt pointed to a slope littered with stones. "Run."
"How many times?"
Reinhardt tilted his head. "Until you stop thinking."
That… took a while.
By the time the sun crept through the trees, Owen's lungs burned, legs shaking, shirt soaked through. Reinhardt, meanwhile, looked like he'd barely broken a sweat.
"You're too stiff," Reinhardt said. "You move like you're afraid of making mistakes."
"That's ironic. " Owen replied between breaths." I make mistakes all the time."
"Exactly," Reinhardt shot back. "And you're still alive. So stop treating them like crimes."
Training didn't feel like training.
It felt like being dismantled.
Reinhardt didn't bark orders. He mocked. He teased. He told stories mid-exercise, sometimes stopping Owen just to correct the way he breathed.
"People think strength is about force," Reinhardt said while making Owen hold a painful stance. "It's not. It's about permission. The moment you allow yourself to move freely, your body follows."
Owen didn't fully understand, but he listened.
Between drills, Reinhardt handed him food. Real food. Sat with him on a fallen log like they weren't knight and squire, just two people avoiding responsibility.
"So," Reinhardt said casually, biting into an apple. "You got a girl?"
Owen nearly choked.
"I-what?"
"A girl. A crush. Someone you're awkward around and don't know why." Reinhardt smirked. "Or are you completely hopeless?"
Owen stared at him. "…No."
Reinhardt squinted. "No as in no girl, or no as in you've never spoken to one?"
Owen looked away. "…Both."
Reinhardt burst out laughing.
"Wow," he said, slapping his knee. "That explains a lot."
"What explains what?"
"Your posture," Reinhardt replied seriously. "Too tense. You walk like the world's about to scold you."
Owen frowned. "What does that have to do with girls?"
"Everything," Reinhardt said confidently. "Listen, women are like combat."
Owen immediately regretted this conversation.
"You rush, you lose. You hesitate, you lose. You overthink, you lose." Reinhardt leaned back. "Best advice? Be honest, be weird, and if she hits you, it means you made an impression."
"That's terrible advice."
"It worked once," Reinhardt said proudly. "Didn't work again. But that once? Legendary."
Owen laughed.
The sound surprised them both.
Reinhardt paused, then smiled. It wasn't wide or loud. Just genuine.
"See?" he said quietly. "You're a kid. You're allowed to be one."
Training continued like that.
Hard days. Early mornings. Bruises earned honestly. Reinhardt pushed Owen physically yes, but he pushed his thinking harder. Challenged his assumptions. Made him talk. Made him argue. Made him exist.
Owen started eating with others again. Saying short sentences. Smiling occasionally. He still kept his distance but it wasn't a wall anymore. More like space to breathe.
Cedric felt it.
Owen was still there during the day. Still quiet. Still endured.
But something was missing.
Or maybe… something had been added.
He watched him from afar, frowning.
"He's different," he muttered.
But he didn't know why.
And that ignorance?
It was dangerous.