Try after Try

Daron stood across from Scarlett in the training room, his light-green eyes locked onto her graceful form. He steadied his breath, muscles coiled like springs, preparing his first strike. Time stretched, tension growing, until--

Daron charged. His wiry frame lent itself to agility over brute force. Scarlett's green eyes tracked his approach, unblinking. At the last second, she twisted, red hair strands whipping around her face as she sidestepped. Effortless. Fluid.

Daron's frustrated growl rumbled in his chest as his strike met only air.

"Again," Scarlett commanded, voice like silk over steel. "You telegraph your moves. The eyes always give you away."

Gritting his teeth, Daron spun to face her. He launched himself at her once more, feinting left. She matched him, deflecting his fist with ease.

A hiss of irritation escaped his mouth.

"Better," she allowed. "But your emotions rule you. They make you sloppy."

"Easy for you to say," he bit back. "You're not the one trying to hit smoke!"

Her eyes flashed a warning. "You think your enemies will be any different?"

Daron's limbs began to protest, muscles burning with each repeated strike. Sweat beaded his brow, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pushed himself harder, faster. But Scarlett remained maddeningly out of reach, anticipating his every move with preternatural grace.

"Is this all you have?" she taunted, sidestepping another blow.

He needed a new strategy. Brute force wasn't working; Scarlett was too quick, too skilled. He had to out-think her.

Scarlett watched him with a critical eye, noting the subtle shift in his demeanor. Good. He seemed to learn. But she kept her approval hidden behind a stern mask. The boy had potential, but he was still raw, undisciplined. It was her job to forge him into a weapon.

"Your enemies won't wait for you to catch your breath," she said sharply. "They won't care that you're tired, or hurt, or angry. All that matters is that you're still standing at the end."

Daron met her gaze. "Then I'll just have to make sure they don't."

He charged again, feinting right before dropping into a sweeping kick, trying to knock Scarlett's legs from under her. She leaped over his outstretched leg with a graceful flip, landing lightly on her feet.

"Clever," she acknowledged, a faint smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "But not clever enough."

The training room blurred into a montage of clashing bodies and flying sweat. Daron lunged, kicked, and spun, his movements growing more fluid and precise with each passing moment. But Scarlett was always one step ahead, her lithe form dancing just out of reach.

Frustration burned in Daron's chest as he hurled himself at her again and again, only to be met with empty air and stinging counters. His clothes clung to his body, soaked through with sweat, and his breath came in ragged gasps.

But he refused to give up.

He feinted left, then pivoted right, going for a straight punch. Scarlett ducked beneath the blow, then spun away.

Daron pressed his advantage, chasing after her with a flurry of punches and kicks. But Scarlett flowed around his attacks like water, her movements graceful and effortless.

"Focus, Daron," she snapped, her voice cutting through the haze of his exertion. "You're telegraphing your moves again. Tighten up your form."

Daron gritted his teeth, his mind racing as he tried to anticipate her next move. But exhaustion was taking its toll, his limbs growing heavy and sluggish.

He threw one last desperate punch, putting everything he had into the blow. But Scarlett caught his wrist easily, her fingers clamping down like a vice.

With a deft twist, she sent him sprawling to the floor, his back slamming against the mat with a dull thud.

Daron lay there, panting heavily as he stared up at the ceiling. His chest heaved with each labored breath, and his vision swam with exhaustion.

"That's enough for today," Scarlett said, her voice cutting through the haze of his fatigue.

"I can keep going," he panted.

She stood over him, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. "You did well. Your technique is improving and your determination is admirable."

Daron let out a breathless laugh, his lips twitching into a tired smile. "Doesn't feel like it. I still couldn't land a hit."

Scarlett shook her head, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes. "Rome wasn't built in a day. You're making progress, even if it doesn't feel like it."

Scarlett extended her hand, her expression softening slightly as she gazed down at Daron's exhausted form. He reached up, his fingers brushing against her palm, and grasped her hand firmly. But instead of allowing her to pull him up, Daron yanked her down with a sudden burst of strength.

Caught off guard, Scarlett tumbled forward, her eyes widening in surprise. Daron's other arm shot up, his elbow stopping just short of her face as she hovered mere inches above him.

For a moment, they remained frozen, their breath mingling in the narrow space between them. Daron's heart pounded against his ribcage, the adrenaline of his unexpected move coursing through his veins. A grin spread across his face, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

"Gotcha," he whispered, his voice laced with a playful tone.

Scarlett blinked, her initial shock melting into amusement. A smile tugged at the corners of her full lips, and a soft chuckle escaped her throat. "Well played, I didn't see that coming."

Daron's grin widened, a sense of pride swelling in his chest. "I figured if I couldn't land a hit during the session, I'd have to cheat a little."

Scarlett shook her head. "You certainly caught me by surprise. I'll have to be more vigilant around you."

She pushed herself up, her hand still clasped in Daron's as she helped him to his feet. The tension that had filled the training room throughout their intense session dissipated, replaced by a lighter, more playful atmosphere.

Daron dusted himself off, his muscles aching from the exertion. "I think I can call it a day now. Satisfied with my little victory."

Scarlett arched an eyebrow, her lips still curved in a smile. "Don't let it go to your head, you've still got a long way to go."

"I know, I know," Daron said, waving his hand dismissively. "But for now, I'll take what I can get."

He turned towards the door, his steps lighter despite the fatigue that clung to his body. The warmth of Scarlett's hand lingered on his skin.

"See you tomorrow, Scarlett," Daron called over his shoulder, a grin still plastered on his face. "I can't wait to see what other tricks you have up your sleeve."

Scarlett watched him go, her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and intrigue. "Oh, you have no idea," she murmured to herself, her words tinged with a hint of mischief.

As the door closed behind Daron, Scarlett found herself alone in the training room. She lifted her hand to her face, her fingers brushing against the spot where Daron's elbow had nearly made contact.

The grin on her face now exposed sharp canines that gleamed under the artificial light, a predatory glint in her eyes.

***

Daron made his way back to his room, each step a reminder of the grueling training session he had just endured. His muscles ached, a dull throb that pulsed through his entire body, but there was a satisfaction in the pain, a sense of accomplishment that came with pushing himself to his limits.

He shoved the hefty wooden door to his left, the entrance to his room, making it creak on its hinges as it swung open.

Daron stripped off his sweat-soaked clothes, tossing them carelessly onto the floor. He stepped into the bathroom, the tiles cool beneath his feet. The shower sputtered to life, the water cascading over his skin, washing away the grime and fatigue of the day.

As the water pounded against his back, Daron closed his eyes, letting his mind drift. He thought back to the training session, to the way Scarlett had moved with such unnatural, fluid grace, her every movement a dance of precision and power. He had been in awe of her, of the way she seemed to anticipate his every move before he even made it.

But then, in that final moment, he had surprised her. He had seen the flicker of shock in her eyes as he had pulled her down, his elbow stopping just short of her face. It had been a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Daron stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, his reflection staring back at him with weary eyes. The black streaks in his hair seemed to shimmer in the light.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, his body heavy with exhaustion. But his mind was alive, buzzing with the events of the day. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and let himself sink into a state of meditation.

The world around him fell away, fading into the background. Daron focused on his breathing, on the steady rise and fall of his chest.

As he delved deeper into his subconsciousness, Daron felt a sense of calm wash over him. The challenges of the day melted away, replaced by the familiar cool numbness.

When Daron opened his eyes again, he found himself on the black plain, an expanse of endless darkness that stretched out in all directions like. The ground beneath him was a glossy, obsidian surface, reflective as a still pond, yet cold and unyielding as iron. Above him hung the dark sun in the sky, spending no warmth.

Morveth was perched on the dark mirror before him. His hollow eyes gleamed with a spectral light, and a sly smile played on the contours of his gaunt face.

"Welcome back. Ready to learn some magic?"