Sasha’s POV
The clash of blades rang through the valley like a battle hymn—sharp, rhythmic, relentless. Each strike was a verse in a song only war could compose, echoing off the cliff faces and stirring the birds from their roosts. The sky above bled into dawn, bruised purple and indigo at the edges, the kind of light that didn’t promise peace—only another fight survived.
The training field sprawled beyond the village like a scar in the frost-kissed earth. Grass, damp with dew and trampled flat beneath boots, sparkled with a fragile sheen that clung to us like breath on glass. Pines ringed the clearing, towering and still, their branches heavy with silence and watchfulness—as if even the forest had learned to hold its breath.
Every inhale brought pine and cold iron, sweat and distant w
