𝗞𝗶𝘀𝗺𝗲𝘁

[𝟰 ➟𝗧𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 ]

"short hiatus", she said.... hi, so it's been over a year 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

An exhale of relief slips out of [Y/n] as panted, out of breath. She wasn't exactly the most physically fit person, so it wasn't too surprising that she ended up with wobbily legs and strained knees after pelting around for quite a bit. She admits, it was stupid of her not to ask for instructions on how to reach her destination, but then again, when everyone was so wary of her, whom exactly could she pump?

Lucy wasn't an option, given that she was as busy that day. Ah... [Y/n] could still remember that dejected expression on her face, the brunette's tawny eyes swimming with hesitation as she moved to leave.

At least she doesn't have to worry about that brewing disaster for now...

Anyway, back to the present. So, given that there was absolutely no one who would be willing to assist her, she firmly decided to search for the training grounds on her own. Stupid, she admits, but ultimately the only feasible choice. Still, that didn't change the fact that the castle was, in fact, huge, and she had no map to guide her whatsoever.

So, to describe her earlier predicament in a mere phrase:

She's cooked.

Literally and figuratively. It didn't help that she rose from her slumber early on purpose so that she may be able to train herself early on. So after she washed her face and clothed herself, she set on her mission.

And it took three whopping hours.

Which is what brings us to her now, tired before being able to do any sort of training. Hell, she could barely even stand upright. All that kept her from collapsing onto the grassy patch of soil that she stood on was the intense grip her clammy fingers had on the bark of a tree.

Thankfully, the tree also provided her with some shelter from the scorching brilliance of the ever so present sun. The bright rays of the star were blocked by the lush, green leaves that the tree raised, deflecting it from [Y/n]'s sweaty figure.

As she was conveniently resting on a hill, her eyes scoured over the training grounds, observing how the knights sparred against one another, dark, wooden blades clacking against another wooden blade.

It was impressive how they endured under the sun. Despite seeming unaffected, it was clear by how drenched they were that they, too, were struggling against the heat.

[Y/n] mentally shed a tear for the people of this era, commending them for surviving without modern luxuries.

Her gaze suddenly swept over a specific person.

Her eyes widened upon the sight of an incredibly, incredibly attractive woman. Dark, raven hair sprouted from her head that was tied into a high ponytail, as determined eyes as silver as the moon concentrated deeply against her target. Her sun kissed skin was an obvious testament to her training, which was only highlighted by numerous scars on the exposed areas of her body, as well as her calloused hands that gripped tightly onto the wooden sword.