Talia stood awkwardly next to Darius, who was chopping wood like it was the easiest thing in the world. Each swing of his axe was smooth. Perfect. Annoyingly impressive.

“Here.” Darius handed her the axe. His eyes were calm, but there was something about his unreadable expression that made Talia’s pride sting.

“I-I can chop wood just fine!” she said, lifting the axe over her shoulder. The movement felt clumsy, and she knew it.

Darius stepped back, crossing his arms. “Precision and control are important. Strength without purpose means nothing.”

Talia’s face burned. Oh, he wasn’t just talking about wood. He was talking about her.

She gripped the axe tighter. Sweat started forming on her forehead. He was testing her. Judging her. Every word was like a jab straight at her pride.

Chopping wood? Really? Talia’s mind raced. This isn’t about wood at all. It’s a metaphor for discipline. Or self-mastery. Or inner peace! It’s something annoyingly deep, isn’t it?

Darius stared at her, not blinking.

Talia’s eye twitched. “I don’t need a lecture! I’ll show you precision!”

She swung the axe down with all her strength. It sank just an inch into the log. Talia winced. The log stood there, like it was mocking her.

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Talia yanked the axe free and looked at Darius. He stared back.

“Your form is wrong,” Darius said. His calm voice made it even more annoying. “Find the center. Strike with intent.”

Talia gritted her teeth. “I know that!”

She swung again, trying to focus. The axe went in halfway. Better. But still not good enough.

Talia glanced at Darius, hoping for just a tiny bit of approval. But his face was still as expressionless as a statue.

Darius stepped forward and took the axe from her. “Watch.”

One smooth motion. Whoosh. Thunk. The log split perfectly in half, pieces falling neatly to the side.

Darius handed the axe back without saying anything.

Talia’s cheeks turned red. “I can do that too!”

She swung the axe, adding a bit of magic. Just a little bit.

Boom! The log exploded. Splinters flew everywhere.

Darius blinked, brushing wood off his shoulder. “You lack discipline.”

“I-I do not!” Talia shouted, tossing the axe aside like it was the axe’s fault. “That was totally on purpose!”

Darius stepped closer, his gaze sharp. “Every task, no matter how small, deserves respect. You want to prove yourself, but you refuse to learn.”

Talia glared at him, her brain racing. He’s doing this on purpose. Every word, every look… it’s all calculated! He knows exactly how to push my buttons. But why? Is this some kind of test?

Talia’s face was burning now. She couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed, angry, or just really wanted to set something, preferably Darius, on fire. “I—I don’t need to prove anything to you!” she finally shouted. With a dramatic spin, she stomped off toward the village.

Darius watched her leave, then turned back to the woodpile. He picked up the axe with that same calm look on his face.

Thunk. Another log split perfectly.

“Undisciplined,” he said, as the sound of splitting wood echoed through the clearing.