Chapter 117: skill
The click of Mara’s apartment door shutting behind him was a small, insignificant sound. He didn’t linger in the building’s sterile hallway.
One moment he was there, the stale air tasting of city dust and old anxieties; the next, he stood in the cool, familiar stone passage of his castle. The shift was instantaneous, a ripple in reality only he perceived.
’A few days,’ Fin thought, the echo of Mara’s reluctant agreement still fresh. ’Too long. But necessary.’ The list was a risk for her, a certainty for him.
He pushed the image of Mara’s pale face and Juna’s knowing smirk from his mind. They were tools, distractions.
Sounds of combat drew him forward – the sharp ring of steel on steel, grunts of effort, the thud of feet on packed earth. He walked through the archway and into the bright sunlight of the training ground.
Arachne and Scarlet were sparring. They moved on from wooden practice weapons; real blades flashed between them now. Arachne, fluid and precise, her movements a deadly dance.
Scarlet, all aggressive power and fiery energy, her laughter sharp when she broke through Arachne’s guard. They were faster, stronger. The infusions were working.
His gaze swept past them, settling on a figure near the edge of the training area.
Meg.
She wasn’t just watching. She held a short, unadorned wooden staff, her knuckles white where she gripped it. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, sweat dampening her hair, sticking it to her temples.
She moved through a basic defensive stance, then a clumsy strike. It was awkward, unrefined, but her eyes blazed with a familiar, stubborn intensity.