The mornings had become a ritual—one that I had grown to love despite the exhaustion it brought. Almost every day, Orion trained me in the backyard of his house. His attacks were swift, his strikes precise, and he never held back.
Fire flared from his hands, forming small, controlled flames that he used to test my reflexes. At first, it had terrified me, but over time, I learned how to anticipate his moves, how to dodge at the last second, how to stay light on my feet.
"You're getting better," Orion admitted one morning, tossing a small flame toward me. I ducked effortlessly, feeling the heat graze past my cheek before extinguishing in the cool air.
"Of course I am," I smirked, rolling my shoulders. "Maybe next time, I'll be the one knocking you down."
Orion chuckled, shaking his head.
