Training

The days that followed were grueling. Gladius was an unforgiving teacher, pushing Esteria to the limits of her endurance. Each morning, she was roused before dawn, her body aching from the previous day's lessons. The flame inside her—once a dormant ember—had become a roaring inferno that she was forced to master. It was a consuming, relentless power, one that threatened to burn her from within if she faltered for even a moment.

The training ground had become her second home. A barren expanse of charred earth surrounded by blackened stones, its very existence a testament to those who had come before her—those who had failed. Esteria could feel their presence in the air, lingering like ghosts of the flame. But she refused to join them. She would not fail.

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"Focus, Esteria!" Gladius barked, standing at the edge of the training circle, his ember eyes smoldering with intensity. "The flame is alive. It moves when you move. Do not command it—become it."