The morning air was unusually sharp, biting at my skin as I climbed the now-familiar trail toward the cliffs. A thin band of orange crept across the eastern horizon, casting long shadows that danced between the rocks.
Today was different.
I could feel it in my chest, a strange, heavy calm that wasn't quite fear and wasn't quite courage.
The medallion hung cold against my skin, tucked beneath my shirt. The stranger's words had stayed with me all night: You're ready.
At the summit, he was waiting.
But this time, he wasn't alone.
Two wooden dummies stood side by side near the edge of the cliff, each crudely shaped like a man, their torsos marked with painted circles at the chest and head.
The stranger stood between them, arms crossed, his sword sheathed at his side. He regarded me with his usual distant calm, but something in his expression was harder today — sharper.
"You're late," he said.
I glanced up at the sky.
"It's barely dawn."
He gave a humorless chuckle.
"Dawn waits for no one," he said. Then he gestured toward the dummies.
"Today," he continued, "you stop being a student. Today you prove you can kill."
I stiffened at his words, but didn't reply.
He stepped closer, his boots crunching against the stones.
"You've learned the forms," he said. "You've learned how to feel the rhythm of an opponent's strike, how to move without thinking. But a blade is worthless if it can't end a fight."
He drew his sword slowly, the metal gleaming faintly in the morning light.
"These dummies won't fight back. They won't bleed. But you're going to treat them like they would."
I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening on the hilt of my own blade.
The stranger moved to stand beside one of the dummies. He raised his sword and, without hesitation, struck.
The blade cleaved through the painted circle at the chest with a sharp crack, splinters flying.
He stepped back, his one good eye fixing on me.
"Your turn."
I nodded once and approached the second dummy.
The wood was rough, weathered by wind and rain. My reflection shimmered faintly in the polished steel of my blade as I raised it.
And then I struck.
The sword bit deep into the dummy's chest with a satisfying crunch. Splinters rained down at my feet.
The stranger said nothing, only nodded once.
But he didn't let me stop there.
"Again," he said.
I struck again. And again. Each time, he corrected me — adjust your stance, turn your hips, follow through, don't hesitate. By the time the sun was high in the sky, the dummy was nothing but a shattered frame of wood and straw.
My arms ached, my shoulders burned, and sweat dripped from my hair into my eyes.
But when I looked up at him, I didn't see disappointment.
I saw approval.
He reached into his cloak and pulled something out — a strip of black cloth, folded neatly.
He held it out to me.
"You've earned this," he said.
I took it hesitantly, unfolding it to reveal a simple headband.
"What is it?" I asked.
"A mark," he replied. "A sign to those who know how to look. Wear it when you find the guild. They'll know you've been trained."
I ran my fingers over the cloth, feeling the faint stitching along its edges.
He turned and sheathed his sword.
"This is the last time we'll meet," he said.
I froze.
"What do you mean?"
He didn't look back at me as he spoke.
"My part is done," he said. "You have what you need now. The rest is up to you."
And with that, he walked away, his cloak billowing behind him.
I stood there for a long moment, staring after him. Then I tied the black headband around my forehead, feeling its weight settle into place.
I wasn't a rat anymore.
I was a wolf.
---
That evening, as I returned to the barracks, I saw her waiting again.
She stood in the shadows near the corner, her cap pulled low over her eyes. But when she saw the headband tied around my head, her lips curled into the faintest smile.
"You've made up your mind," she said.
I stopped in front of her, my arms crossed.
"I have," I said.
Her smile widened just slightly.
"Good," she murmured. Then she glanced around and lowered her voice.
"There's something you should know. Raymond's men are planning something. Tonight. They're watching you closer than ever."
I felt a flicker of anger rise in my chest, but I kept my expression neutral.
"What are they planning?"
"I don't know yet," she admitted. "But whatever it is, it won't end well for you if you stay here."
I thought of the medallion hidden beneath my shirt. Of the black headband tied around my head.
And I made my decision.
"Then we leave tonight," I said.
Her eyes widened slightly, then she nodded.
"I'll be ready," she said.
I turned and started toward the barracks, my hand resting on the hilt of my sword.
Because no matter what waited for me beyond the cliffs, beyond the mine, beyond even Raymond himself — I was done hiding.
I was ready to fight.
And for the first time, I wasn't alone.