The clearing I chose for Tessara’s training was nestled deep in the outskirts of Qalbargh, shielded from prying eyes by a thick canopy of trees. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, offering a serene backdrop to an otherwise demanding task. It was the same spot I often used for my own training—remote, undisturbed, and far enough from the academy to allow a sense of calm.

I stood back, watching Tessara as she examined the bow I’d handed her. It wasn’t anything special, just a simple, well-balanced wooden bow I’d borrowed from the academy’s armory. Still, seeing her hold it stirred a sense of nostalgia. In another life, this bow—or any bow, for that matter—would have been an extension of her arm. Tessara Grant, the unassuming shopkeeper’s daughter, had once been Tessara Grant, the peerless sharpshooter who could bring down a target at impossible distances.

But now? She fumbled slightly, awkwardly adjusting her grip on the string. It was clear that archery wasn’t second nature to this Tessara. Not yet.

“First, let’s fix that grip,” I said, stepping closer. “If you hold it too tight, your shots will lack finesse. Relax your fingers, let the bow feel like an extension of your hand, not a tool you’re forcing into place.”

She nodded, her face tense with focus as she adjusted. I guided her stance next, lightly tapping her feet to reposition them. “Wider base. You need stability before you can aim.”

She tried again, lifting the bow and drawing the string, but her arms wobbled slightly, the tension clearly taking a toll on her muscles. Her first arrow flew wide, barely grazing the edge of the target I’d set up.

“Don’t worry about hitting the center yet,” I said, stepping in to adjust her form again. “Focus on consistency. Hitting the same spot, even if it’s off-center, is better than random shots.”

She sighed, frustration creeping into her expression. “I didn’t think it would be this hard. I mean, I’ve watched people use bows before. It looked... simpler.”

I chuckled, stepping back to give her space. “That’s the trick with archery. When it’s done right, it looks effortless. But mastery takes time—and patience. Don’t expect to be an expert in one day.”

She took a deep breath, her determination rekindling as she nocked another arrow. This time, the shot was closer to the center, though still off. It was progress.

“Better,” I said, nodding approvingly. “You’re learning.”

She turned to me, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I still don’t know why you’re so confident I can do this. I’ve never even touched a bow before today.”

I hesitated for a moment, debating how much to say. “I’ve seen people with raw potential before. It’s all about how willing they are to push themselves. You? You’re stubborn enough to become good at this.”

She laughed softly, the sound breaking some of the tension. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I watched her continue, silently reflecting on how this mirrored our past life. Back then, she’d been a natural, her talent honed by countless battles. Now, it felt as if I was sculpting that same talent from scratch, guiding her toward a potential she didn’t even realize she had.

“Remember, Tess,” I said after another round of shots, “this isn’t just about aiming at targets. It’s about focus, discipline, and knowing your role in a team. Out there, a well-timed arrow can save lives—or end them. Every shot matters.”

Her expression shifted, the weight of my words settling over her. She nodded, her grip on the bow tightening slightly. “I’ll do my best. For my family—and for myself.”

“Good,” I said, stepping back and letting her practice. As the hours passed, her shots became steadier, her movements more fluid. Each improvement, no matter how small, was a step toward reclaiming the formidable archer I remembered.

And yet, I couldn’t shake the bittersweet feeling. Tessara didn’t realize the depth of the potential I saw in her because she didn’t remember the life we’d shared. But if training her now could prevent the tragedies of the past from repeating, it was worth every effort.

“Keep going,” I called out as another arrow struck the target, closer to the center this time. “You’re getting there.”

She smiled, determination blazing in her eyes. “I won’t stop until I do.”

**

The Arrival of Renar and Lorian

The sharp thwack of Tessara’s latest arrow meeting the target was interrupted by the sound of rustling leaves behind me. Instinctively, my hand moved to the dagger at my waist as I turned, only to catch sight of two familiar figures emerging from the shadows of the treeline.

Renar walked with his usual confident stride, his tactical mind likely assessing the clearing before stepping fully into view. Lorian, his smaller frame almost bouncing with an uncontainable energy, followed close behind.

“Looks like you’ve started without us,” Renar said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“Figured you’d take your time,” I replied, keeping my tone light. “We’ve got work to do, after all.”

As they stepped closer, I saw Renar’s gaze drift to Tessara. His expression faltered for just a moment—a flicker of something raw and unguarded. He quickly masked it, his face settling into a calm, neutral demeanor, but I caught the way his fingers curled slightly at his sides.

For a moment, I feared he might say something that would reveal too much, but he surprised me by bowing his head slightly, his voice measured. “Tessara Grant, I presume?”

Tessara lowered her bow, brushing stray strands of hair from her face as she stepped forward cautiously. “Yes, that’s me. And you are...?”

“Renar,” he said simply. “A... friend of Illiad’s.”

Tessara’s brow furrowed, glancing at me for confirmation. I nodded. “Renar’s someone I trust. He’s here to help.”

Before Tessara could respond, Lorian piped up, his grin as wide as ever. “And I’m Lorian! New to the group, but don’t worry, I’m quick to catch on. Nice to meet you, Tessara!”

She blinked, startled by Lorian’s enthusiasm, but managed a small smile in return. “Nice to meet you too, although we’ve met before when I snucked into the Academy to help Illiad. You’re a... lively one.”

“Lively is one way to put it,” I muttered under my breath, earning a chuckle from Renar.

As introductions wrapped up, I noticed Renar’s eyes lingering on Tessara again, this time softer, almost melancholic. His usually sharp gaze seemed weighed down by memories, and for a fleeting second, I thought he might crack under the emotions I knew he was bottling up.

“You okay?” I asked quietly, catching his attention.

Renar shook his head slightly, as if clearing his thoughts. “Fine,” he replied, his tone firm but his voice quieter than usual.

Tessara, oblivious to the history between us, offered a polite smile. “Well, if you’re here to help, I hope you’re ready for some hard work. Illiad’s been relentless with this training.”

Renar’s lips twitched upward again, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from him.”

Lorian clapped his hands together, breaking the moment of tension. “So, what’s the plan? We’re out here in the wilderness, bows in hand—are we taking down a wild beast, or is this a more peaceful practice session?”

“Training,” I said firmly, ignoring his theatrics. “Tessara’s just getting started with archery. And since you’re both here, we’ll run some team drills.”

Renar nodded, his demeanor shifting back to the focused tactician I knew. “A good idea. Team coordination will be crucial if we’re going to...” He trailed off, catching himself before saying too much in Tessara’s presence.

“If we’re going to work together,” I finished for him, subtly warning him with my gaze.

Tessara didn’t seem to notice the exchange, already adjusting the strap of her quiver. “I could use the extra guidance, honestly. I’m still figuring out what I’m doing half the time.”

“Then you’ll fit right in,” Lorian said brightly.

Renar chuckled softly, but his gaze returned to me, his eyes conveying a message only I could read. We’ll talk later.

For now, I let the moment pass. Whatever Renar was holding back could wait. Right now, there was training to be done—and a team to build.

**

Training as a Group

The clearing was alive with movement as we began our training session. The crisp air carried the faint hum of tension and determination, mingled with the occasional twang of a bowstring or the crunch of boots on dirt.

Tessara stood at the edge of the makeshift range, her bow drawn with newfound confidence. She narrowed her eyes at the target ahead, her fingers trembling slightly as she held the tension of the string.

“Focus on your breathing,” I instructed, stepping closer to her. “Draw the string back evenly, not too fast. Control is everything.”

She nodded, exhaling slowly as she released the arrow. It flew true, striking the outer ring of the target. Tessara let out a small huff of frustration, but I could see the progress in her stance, her form sharper with every shot.

“Better,” I said, placing a hand on her shoulder briefly. “But you’re overthinking. Trust your instincts—your muscles know what to do if you let them.”

Meanwhile, Lorian dashed between trees at the far side of the clearing, his agility on full display. Renar had assigned him to practice flanking maneuvers, a task he embraced with a near childlike enthusiasm.

“Try to stay silent, Lorian!” Renar called out from his spot near the center of the field. “If I can hear you from here, so can the enemy.”

“Silent? Have you seen the size of these leaves?” Lorian retorted, narrowly avoiding tripping over a root. “I’m stealthy—just... selectively!”

Renar sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Selective stealth doesn’t exist.”

I couldn’t suppress a small smile. For all his quirks, Lorian was quick on his feet and even quicker to adapt. He’d be an asset in the field—if he could learn to rein in his energy.

Renar himself was a study in precision. He moved between Tessara and Lorian’s positions like a commander surveying his troops, offering corrections and observations with a steady, calm demeanor. Despite the years and the weight of what we’d both endured, his sharp mind remained unyielding.

“Lorian, this isn’t a race. Slow down and think two steps ahead,” he said, redirecting our smallest teammate. Then, turning to Tessara, he added, “Your aim is improving, but don’t let your emotions dictate your shot. Confidence is key, not frustration.”

I watched them all work, the memory of our past lives flickering at the edges of my mind. Tessara, once a fierce marksman who could strike a moving target from impossible distances, now struggling to hit the bullseye. Lorian, a blur of motion, still discovering the discipline he would need to temper his talent. And Renar, always the tactician, carefully guiding us all.

“Your turn,” Renar said, gesturing toward me as he stepped aside.

I nodded, drawing my blade. “Time to see how we work together.”

We moved into a coordinated drill, practicing as a unit. Lorian took the lead on the left flank, his agility allowing him to dart between imagined enemies. I held the front, intercepting imaginary threats with measured strikes, while Tessara provided cover from the backline. Renar called out adjustments, his voice cutting through the air like the crisp edge of a blade.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Shift left! Lorian, mind the opening! Tessara, aim higher—go for the head!”

With each passing minute, I could feel the team coming together. The disjointed movements from earlier were replaced by a rhythm, a shared understanding of our roles. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress.

Tessara loosed another arrow, this one striking the center of the target. She froze for a moment, staring at the result before a smile broke across her face.

“I did it!” she exclaimed, lowering her bow.

“Well done,” Renar said, nodding in approval. “Now do it again, and again, until it becomes second nature.”

Tessara’s smile faltered slightly, but she nodded, determination shining in her eyes.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the clearing in shades of gold and orange, I called for a break. We gathered near a fallen log, Tessara taking deep breaths while Lorian flopped onto the ground dramatically.

“I think I’ve earned a nap,” he declared, arms spread wide.

“You’ve earned more practice,” Renar corrected, though there was a faint hint of amusement in his voice.

I sat in silence for a moment, observing them. This wasn’t the polished team I’d once known, but it was a start. And for the first time in what felt like years, I allowed myself a sliver of hope. Together, we might just stand a chance.

**

Illiad’s Leadership Emerges

The sun had nearly set, casting long shadows across the clearing as we regrouped for the final drills of the day. The air was thick with the scent of churned earth and sweat, and though exhaustion was beginning to creep in, I could see determination etched into their faces.

“Alright,” I said, standing in front of the group. “One more round before we wrap up. This time, we’re going to work on synchronization.”

Lorian groaned, half-jokingly. “You mean you want us to act like we actually know what we’re doing?”

Tessara chuckled softly, while Renar raised a brow, his arms crossed.

“Yes, Lorian,” I replied, a smirk tugging at my lips. “That’s exactly what I mean. Chaos won’t save us in a real fight. Strategy will.”

I glanced at each of them, ensuring they were paying attention. Tessara clutched her bow, her fingers tightening on the grip as if to reaffirm her resolve. Lorian bounced on the balls of his feet, ever restless, while Renar watched me with a quiet, approving nod.

“Renar, you’ll continue calling the shots,” I began, addressing him directly. “But let’s shift focus. Tessara, I want you to prioritize moving targets. You’ve proven you can hit the bullseye when stationary—now let’s add some pressure.”

Tessara nodded, her jaw tightening in determination.

“Lorian,” I said, turning to him. “You’re our eyes and ears. I need you to use your agility to stay ahead of the group. Scout the terrain, identify threats, and relay what you see to Renar.”

“Got it,” he replied, saluting in an exaggerated manner.

“And me?” Renar asked, tilting his head slightly.

“You’re the brain,” I said, meeting his gaze. “Coordinate us. Adapt to the situation. Your job is to see the bigger picture while we handle the execution.”

Renar smiled faintly. “Good answer.”

Finally, I added, “I’ll take point again. Tessara, if anyone gets close, I’m counting on you to pick them off. Lorian, if something slips through, you’re the fallback. Stay quick, stay sharp.”

The air seemed to shift as I spoke, a subtle but unmistakable gravity settling over the group. They were listening—not just hearing me, but truly listening.

“Any questions?” I asked, looking around.

Silence.

“Good,” I said, drawing my blade. “Then let’s make this count.”

We moved into position, a sense of purpose uniting us as we began the drill. Renar called out commands, his voice steady and precise. Tessara adjusted her aim seamlessly, striking moving targets with increasing accuracy. Lorian darted ahead, his movements fluid and almost feline as he scouted the imaginary threats.

The dynamic felt natural, almost effortless. For the first time since our training began, we were functioning as a cohesive unit. My strikes were sharper, fueled by the knowledge that I wasn’t alone—that the others were covering me, supporting me, as I did the same for them.

When the final drill concluded, I lowered my blade and turned to face them. Tessara’s cheeks were flushed with exertion, but she wore a triumphant smile. Lorian was grinning, clearly pleased with his performance, while Renar stood silently, his expression unreadable but his eyes gleaming with something close to pride.

“That was good,” I said, sheathing my blade. “Better than good, actually. If we can keep this up, we’ll be ready for whatever comes next.”

There was a brief moment of silence before Tessara spoke, her voice quiet but firm. “It’s because of you.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“The way you lead us,” she continued, meeting my gaze. “It feels… right. Like you’ve done this before.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing against the secrets I carried. She didn’t know how true her statement was—how many times I’d led this very group in another life.

“I just want us to be prepared,” I said simply, deflecting. “We all have a role to play, and we’re stronger together.”

Lorian clapped me on the shoulder, his grin wide. “Well, Captain, lead on. Just don’t expect me to salute you every time.”

Renar chuckled softly at that, his gaze lingering on me for a fraction longer than usual. I couldn’t tell if he saw through my mask, but there was an understanding in his eyes that needed no words.

As the others began to pack up, I allowed myself a moment to breathe, to take in what we’d accomplished. They were trusting me—not just as a teammate, but as a leader. And though the road ahead would be fraught with danger, I knew I couldn’t let them down.

This was our chance to rewrite the past, and I would see it through. Together.

**

Hints of Deeper Bonds

As the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the hills, a soft, golden glow bathed the clearing where we stood. The air was cooler now, carrying the faint scent of grass and the distant murmur of the forest. Our training session had ended, and though everyone was visibly tired, there was a different energy in the group—something unspoken yet palpable.

Tessara sat on a flat stone near the edge of the clearing, her bow resting across her lap. She was absentmindedly running her fingers over its polished wood, her expression contemplative. Lorian, ever restless, was lying on his back in the grass, tossing a small pebble into the air and catching it repeatedly. Renar stood a few paces away, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

I watched them for a moment, taking in the quiet camaraderie that had begun to form between us. It was subtle, but there was an undeniable sense of connection, as if the trials we’d faced—individually and together—had begun to weave invisible threads binding us as a unit.

“You’ve got a knack for this, Illiad,” Lorian said suddenly, breaking the silence. He didn’t look at me, his eyes focused on the pebble in his hand, but there was a rare sincerity in his tone.

“For what?” I asked, raising a brow.

“Bringing people together,” he replied, tossing the pebble once more before catching it and sitting up. “You don’t just give orders—you make it feel like we’re all in this together. Like what we do matters.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the comment. Lorian was usually quick with a quip or a joke, so hearing something so earnest from him was unexpected.

“Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?” I said after a moment, my voice quieter than I intended.

Lorian shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Sure, but not everyone pulls it off like you do.”

Renar chuckled softly from his spot by the tree. “Lorian’s right. You’ve always had a way of inspiring people—whether you realize it or not.”

There was something in Renar’s tone that made my chest tighten. Always. The weight of the word wasn’t lost on me, and I knew he was speaking to more than just this life. His gaze met mine briefly, and in that fleeting moment, the shared history we couldn’t speak of felt almost tangible.

Tessara looked up then, her voice cutting through the moment. “It’s more than that,” she said, her tone thoughtful. “You believe in people, Illiad. Even when they don’t believe in themselves.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. I wasn’t sure if it was entirely true—after all, I hadn’t always believed in people. There were times in my past life when I’d doubted everyone, even myself. But hearing it now, from Tessara, it struck a chord deep within me.

“Maybe,” I said finally, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “Or maybe I just see what’s already there.”

Tessara smiled back, a hint of color rising in her cheeks as she looked down at her bow again.

Lorian stretched, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, enough of this heartfelt nonsense,” he said, though his grin betrayed him. “I’m starving. Do leaders also provide dinner, or is that asking too much?”

The laughter that followed was light, but it carried a warmth that chased away the lingering shadows of the past. For a brief moment, the burdens we all carried felt just a little lighter.

As we began packing up our gear, I couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope. The bonds forming between us weren’t just a result of shared training—they were born of something deeper, something forged through struggle and determination.

We weren’t just a group of individuals anymore. Slowly but surely, we were becoming a team. And though I couldn’t predict what lay ahead, I knew one thing for certain: together, we stood a far better chance of facing it.

**

Foreshadowing Greater Challenges

As we wrapped up our training session, a chill crept into the evening air, the kind that seemed to hint at something more than just the coming night. The forest around us was alive with its usual sounds—rustling leaves, distant bird calls—but there was an edge to it that set my instincts on edge.

I slung my sword over my shoulder, glancing at the others. Tessara was carefully packing her quiver, her movements deliberate as if trying to commit each motion to memory. Lorian leaned casually against a tree, but his sharp eyes scanned the woods, a habit I’d come to recognize as his way of staying alert while pretending not to be. Renar stood slightly apart from us, his expression thoughtful, as though he too could sense the weight of something approaching.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” Renar’s voice was low, meant for my ears alone.

I nodded. “Something’s coming. I don’t know what yet, but it’s bigger than anything we’ve faced so far.”

Renar’s gaze was distant, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. “We’ve rattled the cage, Illiad. Between saving Tessara and exposing Kalden, we’ve drawn attention—dangerous attention. The kind that doesn’t forgive or forget.”

I didn’t need him to elaborate. He was right. The Rithanes wouldn’t take the recent disruptions lightly, and the Ouroboros gang was bound to regroup after their humiliating defeat. This wasn’t over. If anything, it was just beginning.

“Do you think Tessara’s ready for what’s ahead?” I asked quietly, my eyes drifting toward her.

Renar followed my gaze, his expression softening for a moment. “She’s stronger than she realizes. But strength alone won’t be enough. She’ll need to trust herself—and us—when the time comes.”

I frowned. Trust. It wasn’t something I gave easily anymore, not after everything I’d been through in both lives. But standing here with these three—Renar, Tessara, and Lorian—I felt the faint stirrings of something I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in a long time: hope.

Lorian broke the silence with a sharp whistle, drawing our attention. “Hey, are we done brooding? Or do I need to start charging you all for my time?” His grin was mischievous, but there was an edge of nervous energy beneath it. He felt it too, even if he hid it behind humor.

“We’re done,” I said, my tone firm. “But we need to be prepared. Things are going to get harder from here, and we can’t afford to be caught off guard.”

Tessara straightened, her eyes meeting mine with a newfound determination. “Whatever comes, I’m ready. I won’t let what happened to my family happen again.”

Her resolve was admirable, but it also made my chest tighten. I knew what it meant to carry that kind of weight, to feel like the survival of those you cared about rested entirely on your shoulders. I wouldn’t let her bear that alone.

“We’ll face it together,” I said, my voice steady. “Whatever’s coming, we’ll be ready for it.”

As the four of us began to make our way back toward the city center, the sense of foreboding lingered. The shadows of the forest seemed to stretch longer, darker, as if they too were aware of the storm gathering on the horizon.

I glanced at Renar, who walked silently beside me. His expression was unreadable, but the way his hand hovered near his dagger told me he was thinking the same thing I was: this fragile peace wouldn’t last.

In the distance, the lights of the academy flickered into view, their glow a stark contrast to the dark path ahead. We were walking into uncharted territory, each step pulling us closer to whatever lay in wait.

And yet, as uncertain as the future was, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was where we were meant to be—together, standing on the edge of something far greater than ourselves.

**

Ending on a Note of Resolve

As we approached the city gates, the soft glow of lanterns spilled across the cobblestone path. It was a familiar sight, yet tonight, it felt different. The shadows seemed deeper, the air heavier, as if the world itself knew what lay ahead.

Tessara walked beside me, clutching her bow tightly, her earlier exhaustion overshadowed by the determination etched on her face. Lorian strolled ahead, his carefree posture betraying none of the vigilance I knew simmered beneath the surface. Renar brought up the rear, his sharp gaze scanning the surroundings, ever the tactician.

I stopped just short of the gates, turning to face them. “Before we go any further, there’s something I need to say.”

They paused, all eyes on me.

“Tessara, you’ve taken your first step into something far more dangerous than anything you’ve faced before. You didn’t choose this path—it was forced upon you. But you’ve shown more courage in the last few days than most people show in a lifetime.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she met my gaze with unwavering resolve.

“And Lorian,” I continued, “your strength and agility have been vital, but it’s your quick thinking and loyalty that keep us grounded. I know I can count on you, no matter what we face.”

Lorian smirked, tossing a mock salute. “I’ll try not to let that go to my head, boss.”

I turned to Renar, who stood silently, his expression unreadable. “And you… Renar, I wouldn’t be standing here without you. You’ve been planning, watching, waiting. You’ve sacrificed more than anyone, and I owe you for that. But more than that, I trust you. I always have.”

For a moment, Renar’s stoic mask cracked, a flicker of something raw and unspoken passing between us.

“I didn’t do it alone,” he said quietly. “And I won’t stop until we finish what we started.”

The weight of his words settled over us, grounding us in the reality of our situation. We were bound together by more than just circumstance; we were bound by a shared purpose, a shared pain.

“We’ve all lost something,” I said, my voice steady but laced with emotion. “We’ve all been hurt. But we’re not going to let that define us. We’re going to fight back. Together.”

The silence that followed was thick with understanding. Each of them nodded, their expressions hardening with resolve.

The gates loomed before us, a symbol of the challenges we’d face within and beyond these walls. I took a deep breath, gripping the hilt of my sword as I turned back toward the path.

“Let’s go,” I said. “We’ve got work to do.”

As we crossed the threshold, the weight of our mission pressed against me, but for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel it alone. Tessara, Lorian, and Renar—each of them brought something unique to our group, something irreplaceable.

The road ahead would be treacherous, but we’d already taken the first steps. And as I glanced back at the three of them, I knew we’d take the next steps together.

The flickering lights of the city cast long shadows across the ground, but for the first time, the darkness didn’t feel so overwhelming.