Training began at dawn, under the still pale light of the rising sun. Foster watched the elves gather, their features tense, their bodies already marked by the accumulated fatigue of the last few days.
They all knew that time was against them.
He took a deep breath and motioned for them to take their places.
- Today, we must perfect every movement. I don't want to see any more hesitation. This ritual will forgive no mistakes."
Silence was his only response. They understood what was at stake.
So he began to show them the gestures, again and again. The corrections were severe, precise. He rectified positions, firmed up postures, insisted on fluidity.
But for all their goodwill, they were far from ready.
Köflik mastered the power of his movements, but lacked finesse. Giovanni was fluid but too hesitant. Others, younger, were still struggling to coordinate their steps.
And Foster could see it.