Hiding in the Summer Storm (1)

The morning sun painted the sky in hues of pink and gold. The swordsman was practising his blade art in the backyard of the picturesque house, with the dark vast Forest in the background. In Arianell's eyes, it was almost like a dance. Graceful, yet seductive, as the sharp shining weapon reflected the sun's rays.

Nothing changed with Luan getting his voice back. He liked listening to her stories but it was rare for him to speak himself. His response was always in his eyes or action, rather than words.

Every day at a break of dawn, he would get up for his morning routine. No matter the weather, be it sunny or raining, he would diligently swing his sword. The cool morning breeze caressed his face as he took a deep breath, before letting the weapon hit the invisible target.