Swoosh-!
Swoosh-!
The steady rhythm of Adrian's wooden sword slicing through the air came to a halt as a subtle prickle crawled up his spine. He stopped mid-swing, muscles tense, and turned his head ever so slightly.
Someone was watching him.
Sure enough, just beyond the training field, Isabella stood with her chin resting on her arms, leaning against a tree. Her piercing gaze bore into him, undisguised, almost pure affectionate. Adrian sighed inwardly, though his face betrayed none of his thoughts. He turned back to his training without acknowledging her.
No matter what he said, she wouldn't listen.
The new her which was now known as Bella.
The wooden sword moved again, the familiar motions grounding him. Each swing cut cleanly through the air, the repetition soothing. But as he worked through the forms, his mind wandered—back to that moment.
The scythe boy.
The battle.
And what came after.