Veil of the forsaken.

"Continuing, Sei-do"

The sun shone warmly over the outdoor training grounds, its rays bouncing off the polished steel of the sparring dummies and illuminating the faintly worn dirt paths beneath Mai's feet. She stood rigid, her small, eleven-year-old frame clad in lightweight training gear that barely fit her properly. Her mother, Mai-Lee, circled her like a predator, her sharp eyes scanning Sei-do's every move.

Sei-do, as she was known then, couldn't help but glance sideways toward the open yard where laughter filled the air. From her vantage point, she could see Arlos running around wildly, his golden hair catching the sunlight, while Lady chased him with a determined yet begrudging smile. Dorothea was hanging from a tree branch, taunting Matthew, who jogged slowly toward her with a resigned expression. It was chaos, pure and unadulterated, and Sei-do could feel her chest tighten with an ache she couldn't quite name.

"Eyes forward, Sei-do," Mai-Lee snapped, her voice cold and commanding.

Sei-do's head snapped back to face her mother. She tightened her fists at her sides, her heart pounding. "Yes, Mother."

Mai-Lee didn't stop circling, her steps measured and deliberate. Her raven-black hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, her movements graceful but laced with the kind of authority that made Sei-do's stomach churn. "You're distracted," Mai-Lee said sharply. "Do you think your enemies will stop to let you daydream?"

Sei-do opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Mai-Lee lunged. In one swift motion, she swept Sei-do's legs out from under her, sending her crashing to the ground. The impact knocked the wind out of her, and for a moment, she just lay there, gasping for air.

"Get up," Mai-Lee barked, standing over her with arms crossed. "You think they'll let you stay down? They won't. They'll kill you where you lie."

Sei-do pushed herself up on trembling arms, her eyes burning as she struggled to her feet. She glanced again toward the yard. Lady was laughing now, her usually serious face alight with an expression Sei-do had rarely seen. Carefree. Happy.

"Do not look at them again," Mai-Lee hissed, following Sei-do's gaze. "They have the luxury of playing because they aren't fighting to survive. You don't have that luxury."

Sei-do's chest tightened further, but she nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Yes, Mother."

Mai-Lee's expression softened, but only slightly. "Again," she ordered, stepping back to give Sei-do space. "And this time, stay focused."

Sei-do took a deep breath and shifted into a defensive stance. Her muscles ached from the countless drills they had already done that morning, but she didn't dare complain. Mai-Lee lunged again, her movements faster than Sei-do could follow. This time, she aimed a low kick at Sei-do's side, but Sei-do managed to dodge, barely. She countered with a clumsy jab, which Mai-Lee caught effortlessly.

"You're too slow," Mai-Lee said, her voice as sharp as the crack of wood against wood. She twisted Sei-do's arm, forcing her to the ground again. "And too weak."

The dirt beneath Sei-do's palms felt cool against her skin, grounding her for a brief moment. She clenched her jaw, holding back tears. She wanted to be strong, to be everything her mother expected of her. But every time she fell, every time she failed, that invisible weight on her chest grew heavier.

"Get up," Mai-Lee demanded again. Her voice didn't waver, but there was something in her eyes—something that Sei-do couldn't quite place. A flicker of pain, perhaps, or regret. It vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Sei-do stood, her legs shaking beneath her. She didn't look toward the yard again, but she could still hear them. Arlos's laughter, Lady's sharp but playful remarks, Dorothea's teasing. The sound felt like a cruel reminder of something she could never have.

"Good," Mai-Lee said, nodding slightly. "Again."

The training continued, the drills becoming harsher with every passing moment. Mai-Lee threw Sei-do to the ground over and over, her critiques biting and relentless. Sei-do's body screamed in protest, but she kept going, her small hands curling into fists that trembled with effort.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Mai-Lee finally stepped back, letting out a sigh. "That's enough for today, train harder."

Sei-do stood there, her shoulders heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her knees were scraped, her arms bruised, and her heart felt like it was splintering apart. She nodded stiffly, not trusting herself to speak.

Mai-Lee studied her for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she reached out, placing a hand on Sei-do's shoulder. "You'll thank me one day," she said quietly. "When the time comes, you'll be ready."

Sei-do didn't respond. She stared down at the ground, her vision blurring with unshed tears.

"Go clean up," Mai-Lee said, stepping away. "And don't let me catch you slacking tomorrow."

As her mother turned and walked away, Sei-do stood there, rooted in place. The laughter from the yard had died down now, replaced by the distant hum of voices and the occasional chirp of birds. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to imagine what it would feel like to join them. To run and laugh and play without fear of failure.

But that wasn't her reality. It never would be.

With a heavy heart, Sei-do turned and walked toward the training shed, her head held high despite the ache in her chest. Because no matter how much it hurt, she couldn't let herself cry..

Not yet.

Sei-do picked up her sword, speaking into the quiet: "Nobody appreciates a sucker. Guess that's all I'll ever be."

End of part.