The Sounds of the night

The road still stretched long and arduous, even after the considerable distance they had already covered. The group trudged on, exhausted, while Frozenfang remained comfortably in a carriage that traveled beside them. As they left the snowy forest behind and crossed the mountains, the landscape began to change. The snow faded away, revealing a vast mansion ahead, marking their arrival in Moonshade territory.

The mansion was surrounded by a towering wall that seemed to touch the sky. As they approached, they were met by guards who, without a word, opened the gates for them. However, instead of leading them toward the mansion, the guards escorted them away, guiding them down a path that led deep into the forest.

After what felt like an eternity, they arrived at a refuge in deplorable condition. It was a structure made of wood, but the wood was rotting, and the place looked as though it could collapse at any moment. The roof was covered in moss, and the walls showed signs of abandonment and neglect.

"Welcome to your new temporary home," one of the guards said with a mocking smile before leaving. Frozenfang, showing no emotion, stepped down from his carriage and approached the refuge, scrutinizing the place with cold eyes.

"This place is yet another test," he remarked in his usual icy tone. "Make no mistake, only the strong survive in Moonshade. Rest as much as you can. Tomorrow will be even harder."

He then turned to the group, his gaze piercing through each of them. "Well, I'll leave you here for the time being," he said with a cold smirk. "I have matters to attend to with Lord Moonshade. You kids better be on your best behavior, and remember, the tournament will begin shortly. Make sure you're ready."

With that, Frozenfang stepped back into his carriage and rode away, leaving the group alone in the decaying refuge. Exhausted but knowing they had no other choice, they settled into the place as best they could. As night fell, the tension and fear of what awaited them the next day hung over them like a shadow, threatening to consume them all.

Later that night, the stillness of the refuge was shattered by the unmistakable clash of swords and the murmur of distant voices. The sounds were faint but distinct, enough to stir the curiosity of the children within the refuge. Restless and intrigued, a few of them, led by Khalid, decided to sneak out and investigate, despite the risk.

They crept through the dark forest, careful to avoid making any noise that might alert Frozenfang or the guards. As they moved closer to the source of the sounds, they came upon a clearing in the distance. In the middle of the clearing was a camp filled with children, all around the same age as them, practicing their combat skills. The camp was a stark contrast to their dilapidated refuge—well-organized, with proper tents and a large bonfire at its center.

Among the children sparring with each other, one figure stood out—a boy with a familiar face. It was Lysander. He was engaged in a heated swordfight with another boy, and although Lysander showed impressive skill, it was clear he wasn't the best fighter among them. The other boy had an undeniable presence, his every move executed with precision and power.

This boy stood out among his peers, towering at an impressive height for his age, with a muscular build that hinted at his extraordinary strength. His piercing brown eyes reflected a fierce determination, and his short, tousled black hair added to his rugged appearance. His skin was tanned from hours spent training under the sun, and his hands were calloused, a testament to his relentless practice.

Khalid and the others watched in awe as the boy, who seemed to command respect from those around him, sparred with Lysander. Despite Lysander's agility and cunning, the gap in their abilities was evident. The boy's strength and control were unmatched, and it wasn't long before he disarmed Lysander with a powerful strike, sending Lysander's sword flying from his hand.

The scene left Khalid and the others uneasy. Lysander had been a menace, but this boy—this powerful, disciplined fighter—seemed to be on an entirely different level. The implications of facing such opponents in the upcoming tournament began to sink in, filling them with a deep sense of dread.