The Fallen Fantasy: The First Arc

Chapter 7: The Threat That Follws - Avenging Lyraeus.

Four years had passed since their journey began. Azael was now 12, Red 13, Meliodas 20, and Clea 18. The years had been filled with intense training and searching, but the demon lords remained elusive. Azael, under Clea's guidance, had honed his combat skills, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. Meliodas, driven by his own determination, trained alone, pushing his limits to unprecedented heights. Red, meanwhile, continued to grapple with his magical abilities, struggling to unlock their secrets. Despite the challenges, the four friends remained united, their quest for the demon lords unwavering. And now, after years of searching, they sensed it - they were getting closer, the trail growing warmer with each step forward.

*In the forest of Valkrim*

Azael and Clea are training. Azael dodged and weaved, his eyes fixed on Clea's fluid movements. She was teaching him to anticipate his opponents' actions, to read their steps and strikes before they happened. Clea feinted, and Azael reacted, his hand flashing up to block the blow. But Clea was too quick, and she landed a gentle tap on his shoulder.

"Again," she said, smiling.

Azael nodded, focused. They trained for hours, the sun beating down on them. But as the day wore on, Azael's movements grew slower, his reactions delayed. Clea noticed and called out, "Enough!" As they caught their breath, Clea suggested, "Let's take a break. I know a great spot to watch the sunset."

They climbed a nearby tree, settling into the branches as the sky turned pink and orange. Azael turned to Clea, curious.

Azael: Hey, Clea? Tell me more about your village. What was it like growing up as an Amazon warrior?

Clea's eyes grew distant, a soft smile on her face.

Clea: It was...magnificent. Our village was hidden deep in the forest, protected by ancient magic. I was trained from a young age in the ways of combat and survival. My mother was a great warrior, and she taught me everything she knew.

Azael listened, entranced, as Clea spoke of her village's traditions and stories of the strong women who had shaped her into the warrior she was today. The stars began to twinkle in the night sky, and Azael felt grateful for this moment, suspended in the tree with his friend and mentor, listening to tales of her incredible past.

As Clea spoke, Azael's eyes sparkled with excitement. But then, a thoughtful expression crossed his face.

Azael: Clea, I think I understand something. We're not so different, are we?

Clea: [Clea raised an eyebrow] What do you mean?

Azael's voice grew quieter.

Azael: We both fight with our hearts, not just our weapons. We both refuse to yield, even when it's hard.

Clea's gaze softened, and she nodded.

Clea: You're right, Azael. I see that in you. You have a true heart, just like the Amazon warriors of old.

Azael smiled, feeling a deep connection to Clea.

Clea: And I see it in you, too. You're still a warrior, no matter where you are.

Clea's eyes shone with a mix of sadness and pride.

Clea: Perhaps that's what makes us such good friends, Azael. We understand each other's hearts.

In that moment, they both knew that their bond went beyond mere friendship or mentorship. They were two warriors, connected by their unwavering dedication to their craft and their unshakeable hearts.

Azael's curiosity got the better of him.

Azael: Hey, Clea? If the Amazons are all women, how do you... you know, keep the village going?