The path of two blades

The dawn broke with silver fire over the training cliffs of Ilyen Gorge. Below, the wind howled like a mourning beast, sweeping through the stone ridges and stirring the long banners of the Academy with the chill of high-altitude air. Thalen stood alone atop the stone platform shirtless, scarred, and silent.

The sword in his hand gleamed faintly in the morning light. It was his blade a rare variant of the Dusksteel Class, forged to respond to his Blade Aura. The hilt pulsed with life, reacting subtly to his heartbeat, as if recognizing his doubt and desire in equal measure.

Across from him, Master Raikor stood like a carved figure of war clad in simple cloth, eyes like iron storms. He was not a man who needed grandeur. His presence alone made the world seem smaller, the sky thinner.