She laughs. “You mean Leon? You’ve heard the rumors, haven’t you?”
“I’ve heard plenty. Loner kid. Strong. Quiet. Brooding. Sounds like every cautionary tale rolled into one.”
Hope rolls her eyes. “He’s not like that. You’ll see. Come on—I was just going to check on him anyway.”
We cut across the open yard toward the warrior barracks. Shouts and grunts echo from the sparring ring nearby. Warriors move through drills with a sharp, rhythmic precision, dust rising under their boots. Hope leads me around the fence, toward the group.
“That’s him,” she says, pointing.
Leon stands in a loose stance, watching two older warriors exchange blows. He’s huge for his age—maybe fourteen, but already broader than most of the adult trainees. His dark hair falls in uneven layers around sharp, watchful e
