The training ground was bare.
No flags.
No symbols.
Just stone… and scars.
The ground was marked by cracks, old impacts, stains that time hadn't quite managed to erase. Victories weren't celebrated there.
They were forged.
Adara arrived at noon.
The air was dry, heavy. Different from the hall. More honest.
Seryna was already there.
Barefoot.
With a short spear twirling between her fingers as if it were a natural extension of her body. Seeing her, she smiled… but not warmly.
"You're on time," she said. "That earns you a point."
Adara didn't reply. She observed the ground. Measured distances. Exits. Shadows.
Seryna noticed.
"Good," she murmured. "You're not so naive."
A sharp thud interrupted the moment.
Valerice had arrived.
"There's no magic today," she announced bluntly. "Today we learn what's left of you when it's taken away."
Adara nodded.
"Understood."
Valerice tossed something into the air.
Adara caught it.
A training sword.
Heavy.
Heavier than necessary.
It wasn't balanced for her body.
"It's not your weapon," Valerice said. "Precisely for that reason."
Seryna twirled her spear and adopted a low stance.
"Simple rule," she added. "If you fall, you lose. If you hesitate… you lose too."
Adara held the sword with both hands.
No magic.
No advantage.
Just her body.
"Begin," Valerice ordered.
Seryna moved first.
Quickly.
Too quickly.
She didn't attack head-on; she circled around. The spear whistled through the air, searching for ribs, legs, points of balance. It wasn't trying to wound.
It was trying to break the rhythm.
Adara blocked the first blow.
Bad.
The vibration coursed through her arms.
The second impact forced her back.
The third…
made her lose her footing.
She fell to her knees.
Seryna didn't stop.
The tip of the spear stopped an inch from her throat.
Silence.
"Dead," Seryna said, emotionless.
Valerice didn't intervene.
Adara took a deep breath.
She stood up.
"Again."
Seryna tilted her head.
"Good."
This time it was worse.
Adara tried to anticipate.
She failed.
She tried to counterattack.
Slowly.
The spear struck her side. Then her shoulder. Then her legs.
She fell again.
Faster.
"Dead," Seryna repeated.
The sun moved higher.
The heat intensified.
And the pattern repeated itself.
Fall.
Mistake.
Correction.
Fall.
Adara's body began to feel it. Her hands ached. Her muscles burned. The sword no longer felt heavy…
it felt impossible.
But something changed.
Little by little.
She stopped trying to win.
She began trying to understand.
Seryna attacked in patterns… but not exact ones.
There was rhythm.
There was intention.
There was reading.
Adara stopped looking at the weapon.
She looked at the shoulders.
The hips.
The breathing.
The next time Seryna attacked—
Adara didn't block.
She moved.
A sideways step.
Awkward… but enough.
The spear missed its target.
For a moment.
Small.
But real.
Seryna smiled.
"There you are…"
The next exchange lasted longer.
Not much longer.
But longer.
Adara managed to deflect a blow.
Then another.
She even launched an attack of her own.
Inaccurate.
But intentional.
Until—
the spear struck her wrist.
The sword fell.
And in the blink of an eye, Seryna was behind her, pinning her to the ground.
"Dead," she whispered in her ear.
But she didn't move away immediately.
"Better."
Adara gasped, her face pressed against the stone.
But…
she smiled.
Barely.
Valerice finally spoke:
"Enough."
Seryna stood up and offered Adara a hand.
She hesitated for a second.
Then she took it.
"You're not weak," Seryna said. "But you rely too much on what you know how to do well."
Adara stood up.
"I'm learning."
Valerice stepped down to the center of the courtyard.
"No," she corrected. "You're starting to unlearn."
She picked up the sword from the ground and handed it back.
"Tomorrow will be worse."
Adara nodded.
"Good."
A brief silence.
Then Seryna crossed her arms, observing her with something new in her gaze.
Not mockery.
Not superiority.
Interest.
"Perhaps," she said, "it won't be boring having you here after all."
Adara wiped the sweat from her forehead.
"It won't be."
And for the first time since she'd entered the courtyard…
she didn't feel out of place.
She felt…
like she was in progress.