Loving The Traitor (A Luke Castellan Love Story)[BOOK ONE]

Chapter 14 - I Ask Reese for Help

I Ask Reese for Help

The memory of my dream lingered like a shadow, casting a pall over the brightness of the new day. Images of Kronos, ancient and malevolent, danced through my mind, mingling with the chilling specter of someone soaring through the sky. I shuddered at the thought, my heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty.

I knew that I needed to be prepared, that the dangers lurking on the horizon demanded a strength and skill that I was not sure I possessed. I was not a skilled swordsman, far from it, but I knew that in times of turmoil, one must learn to defend oneself, to stand against the encroaching darkness, even if it meant facing the unknown alone.

I tried to push aside thoughts of Luke, the memory of his absence a dull ache in the depths of my soul. I couldn't afford to dwell on what had been, not when the future loomed uncertain and fraught with peril.

As I made my way through the camp, my eyes fell upon a young boy stumbling out of the Ares cabin, his face etched with a mixture of determination and frustration. He pounded on the door, his voice tinged with urgency. "Come on, guys, it was just a joke! Let me in!"

They opened the door for a second, threw him his red jacket, then closed it and I could hear the muffled sounds of laughter. I approached the boy, recognizing him as Reese, a young swordsman with a talent far beyond his years.

"Hey, Reese," I greeted him, my voice tinged with uncertainty.

He turned to me, his grey eyes brightening with recognition. "Oh, hey, Elana," he replied, a warm smile lighting up his features as he hastily put his jacket on over his pajamas.

I hesitated for a moment before gathering my courage. "I heard you're one of the best swordsmen here," I began tentatively, the words tumbling from my lips in a rush.

Reese nodded, a hint of pride coloring his chubby cheeks. "I've had some practice," he admitted modestly.

I swallowed hard, steeling myself for what I was about to ask. "Could you... um, you know, help me?" I trailed off.

To my relief, Reese's smile widened, a glimmer of excitement dancing in his eyes. "Of course," he replied eagerly. "I'd be happy to help."

Together, we made our way to a secluded clearing, the sunlight filtering through the trees in dappled patterns of gold and green. Reese patiently guided me through the basic techniques, his words a steady reassurance in the midst of my uncertainty.

He demonstrated each movement with such precision and grace, I almost forgot he was only twelve as his sword sliced through the air with a fluidity that left me in awe. With each passing moment, I could feel my confidence growing, a newfound sense of determination coursing through my veins.

Reese's encouragement was unwavering, his gentle guidance a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatened to engulf us all. He taught me with patience and understanding, his words a testament to the strength of his character and the depth of his compassion.

And as we sheathed our swords and made our way back to camp, a sense of determination burned bright within me, a flickering flame of hope in the face of adversity.