Killian
The courtyard is colder than usual. The sky above Balorien hangs low and gray, the clouds thick with unspoken threats. Runes along the stone walls pulse faintly, sensing something is about to shift.
Grace stands in the center of the training circle, dressed in plain workout clothing, her hair tied back in a tight bun. Her boots are damp from the morning frost. Her hands are bare.
It’s been a few days since I started having Grace train with my warriors. I didn’t force this to hurt her, but to show her that she doesn’t need her powers to be strong. I knew Grace would want to prove herself, but I didn’t realize she’d enjoy it as much as she does.
I won’t lie and say she hadn’t sustained some injuries. However, the tea I feed her every day heals those slight injuries within seconds
