The soft light of dawn touched the elven citadel, casting long, golden rays over the finely carved archways and quiet pathways. Mihai and Cian emerged from their quarters, blinking in the early sunlight as they made their way to the training grounds. Raven, who had seemed strangely quiet over the past few days, lay curled in a shaded corner near their resting area, his breathing deep and steady. Mihai had sensed a shift within his companion, as though Raven were on the verge of something new, a power gathering within him even as he slept.

As they reached the open courtyard, they found Elanor waiting for them, along with Theron and Faelir, two of the citadel’s most respected elders. Each elder held a different aura: Theron with his calm yet powerful presence, and Faelir with her quick, observant eyes that missed nothing.

“Welcome,” Theron greeted them, his voice calm but with an underlying strength. “Today, we begin the path to mastery. The skills you learn here will serve you well, should you choose to face the darkness ahead.”

Mihai and Cian nodded, feeling the gravity of his words.

Faelir stepped forward, her gaze resting on Cian. “You are an archer,” she said, a faint smile crossing her lips. “But the bow is more than a weapon. In the hands of an elf, it becomes an extension of thought and instinct, flowing like the river and striking like the storm. Let’s see if you can move with that same grace.”

She led him to a small, secluded part of the training grounds where targets of varying sizes had been set at different distances. Some were high in the trees, hidden among leaves, while others were positioned in shadows or half-hidden behind stone.

“Begin,” Faelir instructed simply.

Cian took a deep breath, nocking an arrow and aiming at the nearest target. His movements were sharp, his focus intense. The arrow flew true, striking the center of the closest target. But as he moved to the next, hidden among branches, he hesitated. It was harder to see clearly, and his usual approach felt uncertain.

Faelir watched him, her expression unreadable. “Your accuracy is impressive, but precision is only the beginning,” she said. “There is a subtlety to true marksmanship, a merging of mind and arrow. When you draw back, imagine the arrow’s path as though it has already struck its mark. Sense the flow of life in the forest, and let that guide you.”

Cian nodded, breathing deeply as he tried to follow her words. He nocked another arrow, focusing not on the target itself, but on the sense of the arrow’s journey. He adjusted the speed slightly, sensing the need to let the arrow find its own way. When he released, the arrow hit its mark without hesitation.

Faelir gave a faint nod of approval. “Good. There is much more to learn, but this is a promising start.”

Meanwhile, Theron had led Mihai to another part of the grounds, where a set of heavy wooden training swords waited. The elder’s gaze was sharp, assessing Mihai’s stance and posture with the keen eye of a master.

“You wield two blades, but do you feel them as part of yourself?” Theron asked, his tone both instructive and challenging. “Balance is the key here. Dual weapons require harmony—an awareness of each hand as both separate and united.”

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Mihai listened intently, gripping each training sword with renewed purpose. He took a steady stance, feeling the weight of the swords as extensions of his arms.

“Strike,” Theron instructed.

Mihai moved forward, swinging each blade in a coordinated arc, one following the other. But his movements felt stiff, unnatural. Theron watched him without comment, then raised a hand, signaling him to stop.

“You think too much,” he said. “Feel the flow, not the weight. Allow momentum to carry you, not force. With two swords, your own balance is your greatest weapon.”

Mihai nodded, exhaling slowly. He adjusted his grip and stance, focusing on the rhythm of his movements. He began again, letting his arms move in sync, the blades arcing in smooth, sweeping motions. Little by little, he felt the stiffness fade, his movements growing more fluid.

Theron’s gaze softened. “Better,” he said quietly. “In time, this will become second nature.”

Throughout the morning, Elanor watched Mihai and Cian’s training from a shaded spot nearby. Her eyes lingered on Mihai as he moved, a faint smile playing on her lips as she observed his efforts. There was a ruggedness to him, a determination that she found both endearing and admirable.

When their training session ended, Mihai approached her, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. He seemed tired, yet content, his face brightening as he saw her.

“You’re a fast learner,” Elanor remarked, her tone gentle. “Though I imagine you’ve had to adapt quickly in your journey so far.”

Mihai chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose so. It’s… different here, though. The elves have a way of making everything feel like a part of something greater.”

Elanor nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “We are connected to the forest, to each other. Every action, every choice, resonates within the world around us.” She hesitated, then added, “There are times when I feel… drawn to join your quest, to face the darkness and make a change.”

Mihai looked at her, surprised but pleased. “You’d be welcome with us,” he said sincerely. “It feels… right, having you here.”

They shared a quiet smile, a wordless understanding passing between them.

As the days turned into weeks, Raven remained in his deep, restful state, curled in a quiet corner of the citadel’s gardens. Mihai visited him each evening, resting his hand on Raven’s thick fur and feeling the faint, steady rhythm of his breathing. There was something comforting in his companion’s presence, even in dormancy.

One evening, as Mihai sat beside Raven, Elanor joined him, her gaze soft as she looked at the sleeping wolf.

“He’s… remarkable,” she murmured. “A creature of both strength and wisdom. I sense that he is growing, even as he rests.”

Mihai nodded, his hand resting gently on Raven’s side. “He’s… part of me. I feel like he’s preparing for something, but I don’t know what.”

Elanor placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Whatever it is, he will return to you. Bonds like yours are rare and unbreakable.”

They sat in companionable silence, the quiet of the citadel settling around them like a gentle embrace.

One evening, after a long day of training, Elanor approached Mihai with a quiet invitation. “Would you join me for a walk?” she asked, her voice soft.

Mihai agreed, following her along a winding path that led to a secluded grove at the edge of the citadel. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers, and vibrant colors surrounded them, from the soft blues of the moon blossoms to the deep reds of the fire blooms.

They walked in silence for a while, taking in the beauty of the forest. Eventually, Elanor turned to him, her gaze soft and open.

“This place is… special to me,” she said, her voice filled with reverence. “It’s where I come to find peace, to listen to the spirits and feel the life of the forest.”

Mihai smiled, touched by her openness. “It’s beautiful. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

They sat together on a fallen log, watching the fireflies dance through the air, their soft glow illuminating the darkness. Elanor leaned slightly closer, her shoulder brushing against his. Mihai felt his heart race, a quiet warmth spreading through him.

In that moment, he knew he felt more than admiration for her—there was a connection, a spark that had grown slowly over their time together.

Elanor looked at him, her eyes searching his face. “Mihai… if you would have me, I would like to join your quest. I feel that together, we could make a difference. And… I want to stand beside you.”

Mihai’s heart swelled, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper. He reached for her hand, holding it gently. “I would be honored, Elanor.”

They sat together in the stillness, their hands entwined as the forest around them breathed with life, a bond of both purpose and affection forming between them.