A Sword Against The Past

The barracks were filled with the sounds of early morning activity. Sunlight filtered through narrow windows, casting thin beams of light onto the rough stone walls.

The air was filled with the scent of metal and leather, mixing with the faint smokes of a distant forge. Boots clattered against the stone floor, followed by the occasional clang of swords being drawn and sheathed.

Seraphine strode through the halls, her white and gold armor gleaming faintly in the dim light. Her blue cape fluttered behind her, embroidered with the crest of the empire.

Her long golden hair, tied into a neat braid, swayed with each step. Her expression was calm, yet focused, as she was heading to go inform the other knights to gather up for the day's training with the emperor.

As she turned a corner, her path was suddenly blocked by a knight. He was tall, standing just over six feet, with a lean muscular build. His iron armor was simple, a bit roughed up from use.