Chapter 4: A Glimpse of Another Path

That night, Nyra sat alone in the small room she shared with Saris, the air was thick with the mingling scents of stale bread and old leather. She stared at the worn wooden floor, turning the events of the day over in her mind. Who was that man? And why had he spared her?

She had seen many faces in the streets of Halthor—men and women hardened by the city's unforgiving cruelty, eyes deadened by the weight of survival. But this man was different. He had stepped in, commanded the guards with nothing more than his presence and a few words. He hadn't needed a sword to have power.

Yet the guards, their weapons, their ability to control others—that was what still drew her, like a moth to flame. She couldn't shake the feeling that the power she sought wasn't in just words, but in the strength of steel. But that man made her question what true power looked like.

Still, even as she marveled at the man's command, her heart clenched with a familiar, burning desire. The way the guards had stood, their armor gleaming, swords at their sides, had called to her. She had always watched them from a distance, dreaming of the day when she could stand tall, a weapon in hand, no longer a victim of the streets but a force to be reckoned with. The streets had been her life, but they couldn't be her future. She wanted more

That night, as the wind howled through the cracks in the walls, Nyra swore to herself that she would learn. Learn the way of the sword. She would find that power, the kind that man had wielded, and she would forge it with the strength of steel. Not the fleeting, brittle power of a thief, but something solid. Something undeniable.

The streets of Halthor were brutal, but they would be her forge.

As the dawn broke over Halthor, the girl who had once been a forgotten child in the gutter began to carve a path toward something greater. She didn't know how or when, but in her place stood a girl that would never be powerless again.