The bell tower of Eldenred tolled through the morning haze, scattering flocks of pigeons into the rising light. Cobblestone streets warmed under the sun. Traders tugged open wooden shutters, and the smell of fresh bread drifted lazily from the bakeries lining the square.
It was a peaceful morning—until someone cut right through the calm like a sprinting wildfire.
Boots slammed against stone.
A young man darted across the narrow streets, weaving between startled townsfolk. A merchant cursed as the runner vaulted over crates blocking his stall, but the only answer he got was fading footsteps.
Azar didn't slow down.
He turned sharply into an alley, scaled a low stone wall, and took off toward the outskirts. The old watchtower rose ahead of him, half-swallowed by creeping vines and shadowed by the edge of the forest. Beside it spread an open field—quiet, isolated, and perfectly suited for early training.
"Late," a calm voice called.
Azar skidded to a stop and looked up.
Eswal stood near the tower's base, arms folded, his posture relaxed, every movement measured. He had a quiet confidence about him, the kind that made it clear he rarely, if ever, rushed for anything.
"Late," Eswal repeated, voice calm, unhurried, almost bored. "Again."
Azar exhaled hard, brushing dust from his sleeves.
"I'm only a few minutes behind."
"A few minutes," Eswal repeated, giving him a faint look that hovered somewhere between amusement and disappointment. "Right."
He pushed himself off the old stone and tossed Azar a wooden practice sword. The sunlight caught the subtle blue patterning in Eswal's light armor—faint, elegant markings woven into the fabric like threads of water catching the morning light.
Azar raised his own wooden blade into position.
"You ready?" he asked.
"Been ready," Eswal replied, settling into a stance so effortlessly refined that it almost irritated Azar.
The wind brushed across the field.
Wood struck wood—sharp, fast, loud.
Azar lunged, driven more by instinct than discipline. Eswal deflected the strike cleanly, stepping aside with calm precision. Another clash. Another deflection. Eswal barely seemed to move, but every motion pushed Azar back.
"You overswing when you rush," Eswal noted.
"I'm rushing because I was late."
"You're late because you oversleep."
Azar grit his teeth and pushed harder, striking again—this time faster, angling low. Eswal blocked, though the force made him shift a half-step.
A small victory.
Azar smirked.
"Don't do that," Eswal warned.
"What? Smile?"
"Smirk. It means you're about to do something stupid."
Azar did indeed attempt something stupid—leaping in with an aggressive spin—and Eswal, entirely unimpressed, caught his arm, twisted, and sent Azar stumbling onto his back.
A flock of birds burst from the trees at the noise.
Azar lay there staring up at the sky.
"…Ow."
Eswal offered a hand. "You're improving."
"That felt like dying."
"Then you're improving quickly."
Azar took the hand, begrudgingly allowing himself to be pulled back to his feet.
They reset their stances, preparing for the next exchange—until a voice called from behind the watchtower:
"There you two are!"
Eliana emerged from the stone steps leading down from the tower's side, her long robe trailing behind her in burgundy and quiet gold. Her eyes moved between them—Azar sweaty and bruised, Eswal unbothered and immaculate—and she sighed in a way that implied deep familiarity with this chaos.
"The Guildmaster's been looking for you," she said. "Both of you."
Azar blinked. "For what?"
"If I knew, I wouldn't have run all the way here," she replied. "And you owe me breakfast for this."
He groaned. "But you always pick the expensive bread—"
"Because it tastes good," she said, crossing her arms.
Eswal put his practice sword aside. "Let's go. If the Guildmaster calls this early, it's important."
As they headed toward town, Eliana glanced back at the quiet treeline.The forest swayed gently—nothing strange, nothing alarming.
Still… she frowned.
Something about it felt off.
She shook the feeling away and followed the others.It was probably nothing.