I made my way down the candle-lit corridors of the mansion, an antiquated way of lighting for those who can't afford mana lights. The echo of my footsteps was swallowed by the old carpeting, but I could hear the muffled sounds of metal clashing from the training room ahead.
As I approached, the sounds grew louder and more frantic. I pushed open the door to find my older sister Lara striking the training doll with intensity. Each blow landed with a force that spoke of more than just physical exertion; there was anger, frustration, and something deeper, something raw. Her eyes, usually composed, were filled with emotion.
"Elder Sister," I called out softly, but she did not seem to hear me. Her movements were fluid, yet driven by the wrong fuel. I watched her for a moment, my heart aching for her. Finally, I stepped forward, pulling out a sword from my inventory.
"Elder Sister," I called out again, louder this time, "spar with me."