The courtyard shook under the impact of each blow.
Dust rose, air cracked, and the dull thud of flesh meeting aura echoed through the training field.
Nazeku was already on one knee, sweat pouring down his face, blood dripping from his lip.
Varric stood across from him, arms crossed, aura faintly rippling around him like a storm barely contained.
"On your feet."
Nazeku spat to the side, his voice dry but steady.
"I thought you said you'd go easy on me."
"I am."
The words landed harder than the punches.
Varric wasn't lying, the man wasn't even using a third of his strength.
And yet, each strike he threw sent a shockwave through Nazeku's bones.
Bronze 2 against Gold 2... This is sucide.
Nazeku forced himself upright, cracking his neck.
He smiled, that same stupid, lopsided grin.
"Alright, alright. Round fifty?"
Varric's brow furrowed slightly.
He'd trained hundreds of warriors before, noble heirs, beast tamers, aura prodigies.
But this boy… this boy who hid behind jokes and grins...
He refused to fall.
"You've got no armor, and barely any strength left, and you're still standing. Why?"
Nazeku rolled his shoulders, flexing his bruised arm.
"Because I'm not done yet."
He stepped forward.
Aura flickered faintly across his gauntlet, not smooth, but precise.
He channeled everything into his stance, every drop of energy directed to his legs.
Varric moved and the world blurred.
Nazeku read it.
Just barely.
The shift in Varric's footing, the faint twitch before a strike, he threw his body sideways, feeling a rush of wind graze his cheek.
He spun, blocking the next blow with both arms. The impact cracked his gauntlet and sent him skidding backward, heels digging trenches into the dirt.
He didn't fall.
"Hah…" Nazeku wheezed, coughing. "Close one."
Varric's lips curved into something between a frown and a grin.
"You saw that?"
"I see a lot of things, sir. Doesn't mean I can do much about them."
"Hmph. Keep talking, kid."
The next strike came faster. Nazeku ducked, then rolled, misjudging the second attack. A heavy punch slammed into his ribs, cracking something deep inside. He hit the ground hard.
His body screamed. The edges of his vision dimmed.
Get up.
That voice again, faint, ancient, low.
The dragon's will, pulsing once through his veins.
Stand, bearer of my will.
Nazeku's fingers twitched. He felt the energy flicker inside him, not enough to heal, but enough to move.
He pushed himself up slowly, trembling, his face twisted in pain.
Yet his grin, that stupid, stubborn grin remained.
"I'm up."
Varric's smile faded.
"You're either the most determined fool I've met… or something else entirely."
Nazeku wiped the blood from his lip.
"Maybe both."
They clashed again.
Time lost meaning. The sound of fists, aura bursts, and ragged breathing filled the air.
Every few exchanges, Nazeku managed to deflect or dodge just barely.
Each hit he didn't dodge sent him flying.
Each time, he got back up.
At some point, even Varric's strikes slowed slightly, not from fatigue, but from disbelief.
"You should've passed out ten minutes ago."
"Guess I didn't get the memo," Nazeku grunted.
Finally, Varric stopped mid-swing. The ground beneath them was cracked, the air thick with aura residue.
Nazeku stood hunched, gasping for breath. His arms trembled violently, blood running down his side.
He looked barely conscious and yet his eyes… his eyes were alive.
Varric exhaled slowly.
"That's enough for today."
Nazeku blinked.
"What, giving up already?"
Varric chuckled a deep, booming sound that filled the yard.
"You really don't know when to shut up."
"It's part of my charm."
The instructor shook his head.
"You're insane. But…"
He stepped closer, clapped a hand on Nazeku's shoulder.
"You've got the kind of drive I've only seen in soilders. Keep that up, and maybe you'll reach silver within a year of intense training"
Nazeku's grin faded for just a moment but is quickly masked it with a laugh.
"Silver, huh? Sounds shiny. I'll take it."
Varric smirked.
"Rest up, fool. Tomorrow, we go harder."
As Varric walked away, Nazeku slumped against the wall, clutching his ribs.
The pain was unbearable, but behind it, something pulsed steadily.
A deep warmth beneath his skin.
The dragon's will silent, restrained, but approving.
"Still holding back, huh…" Nazeku whispered through a half-smile. "Fine. I'll catch up."
He tilted his head back against the wall, closing his eyes as rain began to fall.
Each drop stung against his bruised skin, but he didn't care.
"No sword. No beast. No mercy."
"Just me."
And even as his consciousness faded, that stubborn, crooked grin stayed on his face.