The days after returning from the Capital passed in a steady, disciplined rhythm. The Ignivar Estate had returned to its usual calm, yet an undercurrent of anticipation filled the air.
The Enternum Academy first was drawing closer with every sunrise, and Azael threw himself into preparation with renewed focus and determination.
Each morning began the same way. Before the sun had fully risen, Azael would wake and head straight to the private training hall. Arista was usually already there, waiting for him in her fitted training clothes, her crimson hair tied in a high ponytail.
She taught him the family swordsmanship with patience and precision. Their wooden blades would clash again and again under the early morning light streaming through the tall windows.
"Faster, Azael. Don't just swing with strength, flow with the movement," Arista would correct his stance, demonstrating the proper form with graceful power.
