.
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We walked into the familiar clearing in the forest, the spot where we had spent countless hours sparring long before everything changed. The trees around us stood tall, their branches swaying gently in the breeze, but the ground beneath our feet was hard-packed, a patch of earth worn down over time with little grass to cover it.
It was our makeshift arena, a place carved out of nature itself, where we had played and trained together since we were kids.
This place fills me with nostalgia. Somehow, it brings a sense of ease, as if I’ve returned to the child I once was.
Cyprus automatically began stretching, his movements fluid and effortless, as if no time had passed since we last sparred.
With that, I felt the old tension rise in my chest, the way it always did when we trained he
