The little girl in her teens came running, her breaths were uneven and ragged, as she arrived at the courtyard. "Miss… Miss…" she gasped but stopped as she caught the sight of her miss practicing sword techniques.
There stood a girl at the center of the open space, her figure radiating a quiet, controlled power. Dressed in flowing robes that fluttered with each precise movement, she wielded her sword with an elegance that was both fierce and graceful. The blade shimmered in the light, cutting arcs through the air with such fluidity that it seemed to sing with each stroke.
The little girl hesitated for a moment, awed by the sheer beauty and skill of the display. Her miss, often so composed, seemed like an entirely different person when she wielded her sword.