~Aria ~
The clang of steel wakes me before the sun fully rises.
At first, I think it’s part of some half-formed dream, but the sound comes again—metal striking metal, sharp and violent, echoing through the castle’s stone belly. I sit up too fast, heart pounding, breath unsteady. Sweat, iron, dust—those scents thread through the air, carried on a faint morning draft. Only one word follows in their wake: training.
The doors groan open, and Kael strides in. Black leather clings to him like armor, sleeveless, his muscles flexing with each step. There’s already a sheen of sweat on his skin, proof that he’s been sparring while I slept. He looks alive in a way that makes my stomach twist—like this world of blood and steel is his true church.
“Up.” His voice is steady, impatient, already brook
