Grason POV
We gathered in the training hall, its stone walls cold even under the early morning sun. Rows of weapons lined the walls—swords, spears, axes—all waiting to be tested against the magic-infused armor that clung to our bodies like a second skin. My brothers and I stood in a loose circle, adjusting the new suits that covered our bodies from neck to toe. They were thin enough to wear beneath regular clothes but carried a weight that went beyond the material, an almost electric hum of power thrumming beneath the surface.
I ran a hand along my forearm, feeling the smooth, seamless fabric of the armor ripple beneath my touch. This wasn’t like anything we’d worn before. It was different—alive, almost. It carried with it the memory of the magic that once flowed through the veins of the
