The bleak, white walls faded, replaced by rustic, crusty stone walls. The sleek chair had disappeared entirely, turning back into empty air. With the seat having vanished, Cyrus had little choice but to stand up before he toppled over due to the oxygen and gasses being unable to support his weight. The ground had also returned to its dirty surface.

As the roman reminisced of the plush cushion melding into his backside, gently massaging it with its feather-like surface, a cough broke him from his daydream.

Realising teleportation had finished, the roman hurriedly wiped the small trickle of drool running down his chin. "Got to stop doing that in front of people," he reprimanded himself.

A feminine voice called out from behind him, "So how was the trip?" Cyrus turned around, greeted by the sight of his second-in-command leaning casually against the teleportation door frame leading to the training camp.

"Uh, erh bad?" The roman mumbled, realising his life had just been forsaken for a greater cause.

"You do know I still hate you, right? The woman growled, drawing her sword, the blade firmly positioned towards Cyrus's still figure.

The Decanus questioned, "Why do you hate me though?" He once again grabbed for the sword at his hip. His hands came in contact with a soft linen material and the skin beneath but no scabbard or sword. The roman cursed his luck.

Facing the upcoming charge weaponless, Cyrus settled into an unarmed combat stance, pivoting ninety degrees to the left to meet the warrior side-on. His hands clenched into fists, staying tucked into his chest. His forehead was scrunched up. His narrowed eyes scanned the woman's charging form, noting the placement of her hands, the tensed arm muscles and the placement of her sword.

Cyrus adjusted his position accordingly to his opponent's position. A small step back. His left fist reached out slightly. His body edged more towards the left.

Sweat dripped down his face in cascades, giving his skin a shiny sheen. A tremble occasionally rocked his body. The man's muscles tensed in preparation for the incoming charge. His pupils dilated slightly. The trembling stopped. The sound of pounding footsteps grew louder by the second, the vibrations from each step briefly kissing the soles of his feet.

The rogue second-in-command reached Cyrus, swinging her sword in a reckless, downward arc, intent on splitting him in two. It whistled harmlessly through the air. The roman side-stepped the blade. As the woman's momentum carried her body past him, the Decanus stuck his foot out, impeding her current trajectory. She didn't stop in time.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The officer tripped, crashing into the standard. A meaty thud echoed in the room. The weapon clattered to the floor as the stunned warrior flailed about. She glared defiantly back up at Cyrus, a red rectangular bruise running through the centre of her face, stretching from her hairline to her chin.

The roman eyed her curiously. Kicking the sword to the side, out of her reach, Cyrus took a knee in front of her. A gruff hum rose from his lips.

The man delves deep into his memories, searching for the lessons his father used to give in speaking and persuasion. At first, the pitch fluctuated as he bit down the urge to release his voice in its entirety. After a few minutes of tuning and suppressing the urge to yell, Cyrus managed a soft, calming tone. Words finally formed. They were foreign yet familiar, filled with the memories of a time before his life crumbled.

"First, I would like to ask you to wait to speak until I am finished, and I will do the same to you."

She nodded hesitantly. Her mouth was agape, eyes bulging. The emotions of surprise soon transformed into suspicion. The woman's eyes narrowed, brimming with scrutiny. She searched his face systematically for a sign of deceit but found none. Her mouth clicked shut, pressed in a thin, horizontal line.

"If I am not wrong in my assumptions, you are the dungeon fairy that I killed on my first day here."

Another sharp nod and intake of breath, shoulders tensed, eyes finally glancing away from his face, darting from his hands to her surroundings.

"Don't worry, I am not mad at you. Nor do I intend to hurt you."

She nodded slowly, muscles loosening slightly. Her pupils finally slowed down, returning to look at his face.

"I apologise for the pain and suffering you went through at my hands. I know how it feels to a lesser extent for I too died at the hands of an enemy."

He no longer saw the woman, but a younger version of himself, brimming with hatred, sadness and fear. A frightened, wounded animal that would lash out against the slightest provocation. Water welled up to the surface, following the well-trodden path from his eyes to his cheeks.

"I know forgiveness is impossible, but in order to survive the upcoming storm, we must band together. There must be no friction if we are to survive the tribulations in front of us."

He extended his hand to the second in command, palm outstretched, half-expecting for it to be slapped away or left hanging there, untouched. A few moments passed. Just as Cyrus began considering retracting his hand of peace and coming up with a permanent solution to ending this threat, he felt warm flesh wrap around his own.

"Very well! Let's join forces until these trials are over." A soft, solemn voice exclaimed behind the blurred veil of water.

After wiping the tears from his eyes with his bloody linen shirt, the two warriors got back on their feet.

"Let's get to work," Cyrus muttered, his eyes downcast and cheeks tinged pink as memories of his emotional outburst came to mind. He felt a hand grab his shoulder, shaking him slightly. The roman looked up, greeted by the sight of the woman frowning. Her lips opened. "Stop being such a baby. It doesn't suite you."

Cyrus nodded, smiling slightly.

The two walked towards the training camp portal. Just as Cyrus's shoes disappeared into the swirling blue emptiness, he turned around. "I forgot to ask, what is your name?"

"Took you long enough. It is Shaylah Taneisha. And yes, I do have a shorter nickname and no, you're not getting it."