DREGOR IN DISTRESS: THE PROPHECY (THE SAGA OF BLOOD SCAR SERIES)

Chapter 4: "A cabinet of secrets"

I stepped onto the training field, the familiar scent of wood and sweat transporting me back to a time when life was simpler. My father, Damian, would teach me how to wield a wooden knife, calling me his little shark as I darted around him, laughing and learning.

As I gazed out at the training field, I saw a sea of men, their faces set in determined lines, few women stood among them.

My focus was clear: rescue my best friend, no matter what lay ahead. I began to swing the knife in practiced arcs, the motion comforting and familiar. My father's words echoed in my mind, guiding me as I faced the daunting task before me.

With a deep breath, I charged forward, ready to face whatever challenges awaited me. The training field stretched out before me like a battlefield, and I was ready to fight for what mattered most.

I stood tall, my grip on the wooden knife firm, as Pietro sneered at me. His words stung, but I refused to let him get under my skin. I remembered him, all right - he was the one who'd bring me meager rations when I was imprisoned in the cellar, Lazeraus's loyal lapdog. No wonder the food was always almost gone, he was probably too busy licking his master's boots.

But I wouldn't let him get to me now. I kept my eyes fixed on him, my expression calm, as he taunted me., "trying to show off bitch, how I missed beating you to pulp" He said, His mocking tone was like a slap in the face, but I didn't flinch.

Just as I thought I'd have to defend myself, a loud voice boomed across the training field. "Pietro, back to your practice!" The young coach, likely in his early thirties, strode onto the field, his eyes fixed on Pietro. There was something unsettling about his calm demeanor, something that made me think he was more dangerous than he seemed.

Pietro scurried off, his tail between his legs, and the coach turned to me. "You, Thanea. Let's see what you got." His eyes narrowed, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. This was going to be a long day.

I parried the coach's attacks, my wooden knife clashing against his in a flurry of motion. He was fast, too fast, and I struggled to keep up. It's been five years I have touched a sword, but I still remember how to weild, My defensive moves were rusty, my timing off, and I knew I needed to adapt quickly. But I couldn't let him see my weaknesses, not yet.

I focused on his movements, trying to anticipate his next strike. My father's words echoed in my mind: "Never show them your whole defense, Thanea. Keep them guessing, keep them off balance." I gritted my teeth and concentrated, using every ounce of skill I possessed to deflect the coach's attacks.

Sweat dripped down my face, my muscles burning with effort. I ducked and weaved, my sword flashing in the sunlight as I blocked and parried. I couldn't let him overpower me, not now, not in front of all these hostile eyes. I had to prove myself, prove that I was more than just a survivor from Volkier clan.

The coach's attacks intensified, his movements lightning-fast and precise. I dug deep, drawing on every last bit of skill and determination I possessed. I would not be defeated, not yet. My father had taught me better.

I finally collapsed, exhausted, my chest heaving with exertion. The coach and I had fought for what felt like hours, our wooden knives clashing in a blur of motion. But just as I thought I'd found my rhythm, Kaden stepped in, his eyes gleaming with a fierce intensity.

He took the knife from the coach, his movements fluid and graceful. "I'll take it from here," he said, his voice low and menacing. "You play with me now, Wolfy."

My heart raced as he advanced on me, his knife glinting in the sunlight. I summoned every last bit of strength and struck out at him, but he dodged my attack with ease, his movements almost lazy. It was like he was toying with me, dancing around me with a mocking smile on his face.