Page 53 of A Whisper of Cinders

I rise from the chair and I can’t help but feel confident. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Let’s see how long it lasts.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

We leave the main building to go to the training hall - dojo - that is only a short walk away.

Since I didn’t know we had to go outside, I’m not wearing a coat, but neither is Aramis. The sweater I wear should be warm enough.

The sky is lighter in comparison to yesterday and when I look up to the horizon, I see the sun through the clouds. I can’t feel its warmth, since I never saw anything like that in Anima, it is an upgrade either way.

We turn around a corner of the woods and a large, rectangular hall rises in front of us. The exterior is — not surprisingly — completely made out of wood. Aramis walks towards the entrance and pushes open the door.

We enter a balcony that follows the rectangular shape of the building. The inside is spacious, and looks ancient, with its towering wooden beams adorned with intricate carvings. The ceiling has two rows of windows, causing natural light to filter in. I take a few steps forward, walking past Aramis and notice that there are small suns and moons carved into the wood in different places.

I continue walking until I reach the wooden railing and look down in the open centre. Below, a blue mat spreads across the floor and students move in fluid, precise patterns — striking, blocking, countering.

To my right, stairs lead you down to the mat and Aramis walks towards them, gesturing for me to follow. As we walk, I can’t help but notice how defined everything is in here. “Honestly Aramis, what a privilege it is to be able to train in a place like this.”

“Wait until you see the Sanctum Vitae,” he says, but grimaces a second later. “Or no, better if you don’t see it. I actually hope you don’t have to visit it anytime soon.”

My eyebrows rise towards my hairline. “Why is that? If it’s even more breathtaking than this dojo, I’m dying to see it.”

“Well, that’s kind of the thing? You only go there if you’re injured. And I’d rather you stay completely healthy, safe and in one piece for as long as possible.”

I swallow. “Oh. Right. Let’s not do that, then.”

As we descend the stairs, my eyes scan the room, searching for the teacher. The students work in pairs, their movements sharp and fluent. They are definitely more advanced than I am.

“Master Sturmsong is away on business,” Aramis explains, his gaze too roams the dojo. “Con is taking over, he’s an expert, a combat prodigy some would say. Do you mind waiting here? I’ll go search for him.”

“Sure, I’ll wait.”

He glances around but doesn’t seem to find him. He eventually walks towards one of the doors underneath the balcony and disappears through it.

I keep my focus on the sparring pairs, watching how they move, taking mental notes as they go through their routines. Each fight is like a choreographed dance; some flow in graceful precision while others clash with raw intensity.

A burst of laughter draws my attention to the now opening door across from me. I expect to see Aramis, but he is not the one that appears first.

I try not to stare. I fail miserably.

The one who I presume is Con looks like a model; flawless sun kissed skin, perfectly tousled chestnut curls, high cheekbones and a strong jaw with a stubble trimmed to perfection.

His full lips are tilted in an inviting, almost mischievous grin, his frame is strong and he walks with a confidence I can only admire.

He is the definition of effortless attractiveness. Is he supposed to be my teacher? I wouldn’t mind if he could teach me some other things as well.

Aramis murmurs something to Con and he halts so abruptly that Aramis nearly collides into his back. Con’s head snaps up and our gazes connect, sending an electric wave through my body.

Of course I am already staring. Great, that is just freaking great.

But I can’t look away.

The world seems to fade, even the sounds of heavy breathing and punching fists go silent. Time stretches, wrapping around the weight of his gaze and nothing else exists.

Aramis stands beside him, and I shift my gaze to him. They’re nearly the same height, with Con being a little taller.

It’s not proper to stare, believe me, I know, but my body simply won’t listen. I cannot shift my gaze away from them. With a lot of effort, I manage to kneel down and pull my eyes from the two handsome men, loosening the laces of my shoes. Everyone else on the mat is barefoot, it only makes sense to take mine off as well.