Sehira had been training on her own for hours in a row now.
She'd been feeling restless and anxious for days... Having to wait for the Yahurian´s approval to strike had been pure torture for her, and she desperately needed some kind of release.
Every evening she would stare at the distant outline of the massive city, knowing that the reason for her unease was contained behind those walls. Her fists clenching with fury as she pictured the hideous scowl of her hated tormentor.
Iktan would often find her standing silently outside their tent with her eyes fixated on the horizon and her cheeks wet with tears. He would drag her inside and hold her until her heavy eyelids gave up and she fell asleep.
But without the demanding exigences of the field to wear her down and numb her senses enoug
