He had always possessed the capability to meet them.
And perhaps—just perhaps—he could surpass them.
From that day forward, Collin threw himself into training with renewed determination. Owen’s methods were brutal, but they worked. The soreness in his arms became familiar, the weight of the sword more natural in his grip. And with eachlesson, he no longer felt like he was chasing Aries and Nic—he was standing beside them.
Archery belonged to Captain Eric.
Eric took his craft seriously—too seriously. He delivered long-winded lectures about becoming one with the bow, about the harmony between archer and arrow. He boasted of impossible feats—shooting a moth in flight under starlight, impaling three blackbirds with a single arrow.
But when he finally stopped talking and picked up a bow, his skill was undeniable.
Even Dragonfly and Clive, both capable archers, found themselves adjusting their technique under his direction.
Captain Sol never trained them directly.
He observed.
Sometimes he stood in the shade, taking notes. Other times, he walked amongst them, offering brief critiques, sharp corrections. More often, though, he remained distant, seemingly absorbed in the training of other guards.
But Collin knew better.
Even when Sol was far away, his presence lingered—watching, assessing. Dangerous.
It was in those moments that Collin felt most vulnerable.
It was like walking through a dark forest, too quiet, too still. He didn’t know where the danger lurked, only that it was there. Waiting.
Days turned to weeks, and Collin grew stronger.
The endless swimming, the grueling jogs through deep sand, the weight training—all of it had once drained him completely. But now, the soreness faded. His body adapted. His endurance increased.
He knew it would take years to match the sheer size and strength of the seasoned guards, but he could already see the changes—the definition in his arms, the power in his stride.
Training consumed everything.
They arrived at dawn and rarely left before sunset. Life outside the training ground came to a halt—no time for socializing beyond their small group, no time for house chores. Laundry piled at the foot of Collin’s bed, untouched. Hunting, once a cherished necessity, became pointless.
Despite the exhaustion, Collin found himself enjoying the time spent with his closest friends. It felt like childhood again—before girls, before romance, before the weight of adulthood had settled on their shoulders.
Back then, they’d spent their days battling in the meadow like knights, hunting in the woods, pilfering bird nests for eggs. They had camped, fished, swum, sailed. Another lifetime ago.
Without distractions, they had accomplished so much more. But then Lekyi had discovered his charm. Aries had fallen for Hadria. Nic had become utterly engrossed in Helen. And slowly, the bonds between them had loosened.
As Collin felt the ties of brotherhood rekindling once more, he also fell more in love with Dragonfly.
He hadn’t expected it, but watching her move with such confidence and precision—it was thrilling. She was like a warrior queen from a long-lost tale. She grew in skill but never losing what made her luminous.
And he found himself more drawn to her than ever.
