I tossed it into the hearth and flicked my fingers. It caught with a whoosh. The flames ate through it greedily.
That’s when I heard soft footsteps.
I stood, moving to the door. Outside, under the pale hallway lights, a small figure padded quietly down the corridor. Barefoot. Determined.
Elira.
What the hell was she doing, wandering the halls at this hour?
I stepped into the shadow and followed at a distance. She didn’t see me.
She made her way to the training room and dragged one of the heavy wooden dummies across the floor with a grunt. Tied it to a post. Took several paces back. Then—without hesitation—she threw.
One dagger. Then another. Then another.
All clean shots.
I stayed in the doorway, watching her. She hadn’t noticed me yet. Her form was tight, efficient. But her movements were too fast. Too sharp. Like she wasn’t aiming for practice—she was trying to outrun something.
I watched her for a few more throws. Her breath came fast. Shoulders too tense. She wasn’t just training. She was trying not to fall apart.
I stepped into the room.
“You’re going to pull your shoulder if you keep throwing like that,” I said quietly.
She froze mid-draw. Then slowly turned, not startled—just exhausted. Her eyes were rimmed red. No tears now. Just the aftermath.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, voice raw.
“Could ask you the same,” I said. I crossed my arms but didn’t move any closer. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“I figured.”
She looked away, fingers toying with the hilt of a blade. “Nightmare.”
That one word carried the weight of a hundred unspoken memories. I let the silence hang.
“I see,” I said. I didn’t—not fully. No one could. But I wanted to.
She drew back and threw the dagger. It struck the dummy with a sharp, satisfyingthwack, dead centre.
“Want to talk about it?” I asked, careful not to press.
Another blade flew. Another bullseye.
When she didn’t answer, I stepped in closer.
“I’ve been told I’m a good listener. If you ever feel like trying me.”
A tired, sad smile curved her lips. “I don’t doubt that,” she said softly.
She undid the belt of throwing knives around her waist and let it fall with a quietclink. Then she sank down beside it, a long breath escaping her.
“How did you come to be here?” she asked.
“Are we talking birds and the bees,” I said, with a faint smirk, “or something a little more... relevant?”
