The Captain's grip tightened on his sword.
For a moment, he didn't move.
Not because he was afraid of the child.
But because he remembered those eyes.
The eyes of the dragon killer, the sword of the Golden Emperor.
Thirty years ago, in the final battle that ended the age of human slavery, he killed two dragons alone, and he stood by the Golden Emperor's side.
The first human to conquer the seven continents.
As expected, Blood doesn't lie.
The thought surfaced in the captain's mind, cold and certain, and a hint of regret showed on his face.
If only, his mother hadn't run away with her lover, throwing everything away.
Then this boy, the grandson of the dragon killer would be wearing silk, not rags.
What a shame.
The thought surfaced in captain's mind.
Theron and Cassian exchanged a glance, fear and confusion flickering between them, neither dared to speak.
The child still sitting, his gaze remained on the captain.
Inside Theron's body, Leo watched.
And his heart clenched with a different kind of fear.
Not for himself, not for Theron.
For the child.
The captain finally exhaled, slow, controlled, as if pulling himself back from a ledge.
"Both of you, leave!."
Theron's eyes widened, "Captain plea-"
"Now."
Cassian grabbed Theron's arm and pulled him back, As they retreated, Theron glanced over his shoulder one last time.
The boy still had not looked away from the captain.
And Leo grew more nervous as he was pulled away inside Theron's body, unable to do anything.
What is he going to do to him?
The thought screamed through Leo's mind.
The distance grew with every step, slowly the boy became smaller, and smaller, until the figure of them disappeared.
--------------------------------
Three hours later.
The training ground stretched wide beneath the midday sun, a vast expanse of dirt, sweat and steel.
Theron's arms burned and his leg trembled, his lungs were heavy with every breath, and sweat dripped down his face.
Beside him. Cassian was in no better state, his arms hung heavily at his sides.
Both of them had been doing drills since they arrived.
Inside, Leo was drowning.
He had never known exhaustion like this.
Not his own, not really, But Theron's body was his prison, and every push up, sit up and squat, he felt the pain, every burn, every scream of of straining muscle crashed against Leo's consciousness, like waves against a crumbling shore.
And through it all, The child lingered, Leo couldn't shake him off his mind.
Every time his eyes drifted shut, he saw the poor child staring up at the captain.
And the captain returned completely calm, as if nothing had happened.
Is he still here?
Did the captain hurt him?
The question circled endlessly.
"Again", The Captain said.
And they moved.
Steel clashed against steel, footwork drills became parry drills, Then strike drills.
Cassian stumbled beside him, nearly going down before catching himself on Theron's shoulder.
"Sorry." Cassian gasped.
Theron couldn't answer, his throat was dry like sandpaper.
He's going to kill us with all that training, Leo thought from inside.
Ten minutes passed, twenty, thirty.
Theron's vision darkened, his sword arm dropped for a fraction of a second too long, and a practice blade caught him across his ribs, sending him stumbling backwards.
He hit the ground hard, and for a moment, he didn't move.
"Get up."
The Captain's voice was stone cold.
Theron's body screamed as he pushed with himself upright, every part of him was shaking.
Besides him, another knight collapsed to the ground, no one stopped to help, no one had the strength.
"Why..." one of the knights said between ragged breaths, his face full of exhaustion.
"Why is the Captain like this today?."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the training ground, other knights exchanged looks, but not rebellious, but close.
"Theron and Cassian were late today, why are we getting punished for?.", another knight said while pointing his finger at them.
The captain said nothing, he walked to the centre of the yard, his boots crunched on the packed earth, slow and steady, his sword was sheathed at his hip.
There was not a single sign of tiredness, no heaviness in his stance.
The yard went silent. By a man's presence in his fifties, his hair and beard almost white against the bronze of his skin, he wore no armour, only a simple tunic and trousers.
The captain's eyes swept across the yard, across the exhausted knights.
Then his gaze landed on the knight who had spoken.
"You think this is punishment?."
The knight's face went white, and he opened his mouth to apologise, but no word came.
The captain walked down the line of knights, his gaze burning into each of them.
"Shut up."
The word cracked through the yard, like a whip.
"You are knights of Ashford.", his voice loud, relentless.
"You carry the name of this household on your shoulders. You wear its crest on your chest proudly, and you stand here, complaining, because your arms are tired? Your lungs burn?, or because the sun is too hot and the drills are too hard?."
He stopped in front of a knight, whose hands were trembling so badly that, he could barely hold his sword.
"Next week, you will march to war.
Next week, you will stand in formation against men with real swords, ready to cut you down without hesitation. Next week, you will learn what tired truly means."
He moved on, walking slowly.
"Yes, I will push you until your arms fall off. I will push you until you collapse in this yard and cannot rise, I will push you until your body begs for mercy. Because it's better to collapse for exhaustion here."
He stopped in front of Theron, looked down at him, and Theron's body was shaking, his face was slick with sweat and dirt. The Captain's eyes were cold, distant and unreadable.
"Than to die in battle next week."
The silence that followed was absolute.
No one moved. No one dared to breathe too loudly.
Then the Captain turned, walking back toward the centre of the training ground.
"Again.", he said.
No one groaned. No one complained.
Inside Theron's body, Leo felt something shift.
War.
The word kept echoing in his mind, getting heavier each time.
I'm inside Theron's body. If Theron goes to war, and something bad happens to him...
Then what will happen to me?
He remembered the Captain saying those words. The words sounded like a death sentence across the training ground.
He had seen the faces of the knights, men who had been through a lot. They went pale at the mention of war.
It is going to happen next week.
Leo's thoughts were all over the place. He was panicking, unable to control it.
I could die.
Or worse... I might not die, but trapped inside.
I need to get out of this body. I need to find a way.
What if Theron dies, and I am stuck in his mind forever?
What if Theron kills someone? Will I be a murderer too?
He did not know what to do. He did not know anything.
Flora, Arthur, someone, please help me.
No one answered, no one could hear him.
He was alone inside Theron's body, and time was running out.
He had no choice. He had to rely on Theron. He had to rely on himself.
As Leo was lost in thought, fearing what might happen-
"Enough."
The voice was not loud. It cut through the training ground like a knife. It was quiet and absolute.
Every knight stopped what they were doing, even the Captain.
The place became silent.
Theron's head turned . Along with every other knight in the yard towards the archway at the edge of the training ground.
A man stood there.
He couldn't have been older than his mid-twenties, yet he stood like a man who was used to being obeyed, with a face that made people stop and stare. He had dark hair, a sharp jaw and pale green eyes that seemed to be gold in the morning light.
His eyes swept across the yard with confidence like a man who had never doubted himself.
He was not wearing armor or a training uniform. He wore dark trousers and a linen shirt that was unbuttoned at the collar.
A sword hung at his hip. The hilt was worn smooth from use.
He was smiling.
"Commander " the Captain said.
The man's smile widened, "Cedric Ironvale " he said. He stepped into the training ground his eyes never leaving the Captain's face.
"Cedric still pushing your men hard everyday I see... Some things never change ", he glanced around the yard at the collapsed knights, The scattered swords.
The Captain was still quietly watching the man.
The young man stopped a foot from the Captain and Leo realised he was taller.
If Captain Cedric was like cold steel this man was, like warm gold, and somehow that made him even more dangerous.
"Commander on the field!"
The Captain's voice rang out like thunder.
Every knight moved at once.
The practice swords dropped to the ground, bodies straightened despite their exhaustion.
In a span of a single breath. The yard transformed, from collapsed knights in the ground, to a forest of rigid, silver-clad statues.
Leo felt Theron's chest heave one last time, before his posture locked into a perfect, unwavering salute.
"Commander," They said in unison.
The Commander walked through the rows of men, with a casual look of a predator in his own territory.
Leo felt it, that quiet pressure.
This man is different.
He didn't look at their armor or stance, he looked into their eyes.
"At ease," The Commander said, calmly. Not a single man was relaxed.
He stopped in front of a knight.
"You are shaking.", The Commander said, softly. He wasn't being mean, he was just stating a fact. He had a smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes.
And the knight was terrified, trembling more, from the training, and the fear of their commander.
The commander turned away, and started walking towards the centre of the training ground.
"Duke sent me." The Commander said, lightly.
He stopped beside The captain, and added, "The Duke is concerned about the northern front." his eyes narrowed slightly. "He said, and I quote, 'If they don't have the ability to fight in the front, replace the Crimson squad with the Ash walkers.'"
Silence took over.
Ash walkers.
The name landed like a curse, like a slap across every knight's face.
Leo who was observing the situation, felt it through Theron's body, the way his blood turned hot, his fists clenched, and his jaw tightened.
"Those arrogant bastards," someone muttered from the back, the voice was low, but the hatred in it was unmistakable.
"The Ash Walkers...", another knight spat on the ground. "I would rather die, than be replaced with them"
Leo felt it building.
"Always moving around like they are better than everyone.", a third knight growled. "Like the Crimson squad in nothing."
The murmurs spread through the knights, growing louder, angrier.
The knights who had been on the verge of death moments ago, now stood with fire in their eyes.
"They think they are number one," Cassian said, his brown eyes burning with rage.
Theron nodded beside him. Leo felt the agreement burning through the body that he possessed. a deep, and personal hatred that went beyond rivalry.
The Ash Walkers.
Leo didn't know them. But could feel it, years of resentment of being looked down upon, of being treated as if they didn't exist.
The Commander watched the reaction of the knights with cold satisfaction.
He let the anger build, let the hatred rise again.
Then he spoke again, his voice sharp like a knife.
"The Duke does not care about your feelings," he said.
"He does not care about your rivalry. He cares about results.". He stepped closer, his eyes sweeping across the faces of the knights.
"The Ash Walkers believe that they are the best.
They believe that they are the only capable squad of the duchy. And maybe... they are right ".
The knights stiffened, and their jaws clenched.
"But", The commander continued, adding, "From what I've seen today..."
He paused, the knights held their breath.
"The Crimson squad is capable."
Leo felt the tension ease, and the knights anger fading-
"But capable means nothing...", The Commander's smile thinned.
"If you hesitate when it matters."
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Author's here
its my first time writing novels, English is my second language, i'm sorry if i make any mistakes.
Please feel free to give me feedbacks , so that i can improve more.
Thank you for your time.