The courtyard was quiet, blanketed in early morning mist.
Elena stepped through the archway, her breath forming clouds in the cold air. The stone beneath her boots felt colder than usual, as if the ground itself was holding its breath.
Lucien was already there.
He stood in the center of the yard, cloak gone, wearing dark training clothes that moved easily with the wind. His sword was already in hand, its blade glinting faintly under the rising sun.
He didn't say anything right away. He just looked at her.
"You called for me?" Elena asked, voice calm.
Lucien nodded. "I did."
"…Why?"
He looked at her sword. "I saw you training the other day. Thought I should find out for myself."
Elena's brow lifted slightly. "Find out what?"
"If you actually know how to fight," he said simply. "Or if you were just swinging a blade for show."
That earned him a quiet breath of amusement. "So this is… a sparring match?"
"You could call it that." His gaze was steady. "Don't hold back."
She gave a short nod, stepping into the courtyard fully. The mist curled around her legs as she reached for the sword at her back and drew it in one smooth motion.
Lucien didn't wait.
He moved fast—faster than she expected—his first strike aiming straight for her shoulder. Elena turned, blade meeting his in a clean deflection, and the sharp clang of metal echoed through the courtyard.
She stepped back. He followed.
Another slash—this one aimed lower. She blocked again, feet sliding across the frost-dusted ground. Her body was warming quickly now, muscles remembering what her mind tried to forget.
Lucien didn't let up. His expression remained calm, but focused. He wasn't testing her gently. He was pushing her.
And maybe… underestimating her.
"I thought you said not to hold back," she said between breaths, parrying his next strike.
"I'm not," he replied coolly, stepping in again.
Their swords clashed once more, then again, until Elena ducked under his arm and spun to his blind side.
For a split second, she saw it—his eyes flicker with the faintest surprise.
Then everything changed.
A warmth bloomed deep in her chest. Fast. Sudden. Like something had cracked open from the inside.
Her pulse skipped.
The blade in her hand trembled—not from fear, but from power.
Light shimmered faintly around her arm. At first, it was soft. Barely visible. Then brighter. Blue and silver light laced the air around her sword, pulsing outward in gentle waves that cracked the frost beneath her feet.
Lucien stopped moving.
His sword lowered a fraction as his eyes narrowed on her. "What…?"
Elena felt it rise—something ancient, something fierce. It wasn't rage. It wasn't emotion at all. It was just power. Steady. Calm. Alive.
Her blade glowed now, coated in a luminous energy that hummed through the air like a quiet storm.
Lucien's jaw tightened. "That's—"
He moved in a blink.
Before she could lift her sword again, his aura surged forward like a crashing tide. His own blade met hers in a sharp, controlled strike—not meant to harm, but to contain. His aura flared gold, wrapping around hers and locking it down.
The courtyard shook.
Elena stumbled back slightly, her heart racing. The energy in her sword flickered once… then dimmed. Lucien stood in front of her now, calm again—but watching her very, very closely.
"You weren't supposed to have that," he said quietly.
She swallowed hard. "I didn't even know I did."
Lucien studied her for a long moment. The frost at their feet had melted in a perfect ring around them.
"Your aura," he said, voice lower now, "feels almost like mine."
She blinked. "Is that… bad?"
"No," he said, almost to himself. "But it's definitely not normal."
The tension slowly eased from his shoulders. He lowered his sword completely, though his expression stayed unreadable.
"This changes things," he muttered.
Elena stayed quiet, still catching her breath.
Lucien finally turned away, heading for the exit. "Come to the courtyard again tomorrow," he said over his shoulder. "You're not done."
Then he was gone—leaving her alone in the morning light, her sword still faintly warm in her grip.