Eternal.

Training Grounds

The low hum of the palace echoed through the hallways as Monn made his way toward the royal training grounds. He had just left the council meeting, a gathering of advisors and generals, but his mind was still consumed by the deliberations. There was unrest among the borders, but no immediate decision had been made. Still, it weighed on him-the fate of the kingdom, the lives of its people, and the pressures of ruling hung over him like a storm cloud.

He needed a moment to clear his head.

Monn stepped outside, the fresh air hitting his face, and the quiet of the palace gardens offering a brief respite from the heavy atmosphere within the palace walls. He walked slowly, his gaze falling on the familiar sight of the royal training grounds where his children often practiced.

It was close to dusk now, and the sky had begun to fade into shades of purple and orange. The sound of plasma blades clashing filled the air-a sharp hum punctuated by the occasional hiss of power swords meeting in combat.

In the middle of the practice area stood Verb, the young prince locked in a sparring match with a Royal Guardsman. Verb's movements were clumsy, but his determination was evident. The Royal Guardsman, an experienced soldier, easily parried Verb's strikes, his blade glowing bright against the fading sunlight. Despite his lack of finesse, Verb's enthusiasm never wavered, his eyes full of intensity.

Monn leaned against a nearby pillar, watching silently for a moment. He had seen this before-Verb's passion for becoming a Royal Guard was unyielding, though still unrefined. Monn admired his son's determination, even if he was not yet ready for the frontlines.

"Focus, Verb!" the Royal Guardsman called out, parrying a wild strike from the prince. "You won't win by swinging wildly. Find your rhythm."

Verb's shoulders tensed, and he grunted in frustration but quickly reset, trying to regain his composure. "I'll get it," he muttered under his breath, sweat beading on his forehead.

The young prince swung again, this time with more precision, but the Guardsman easily blocked the blow and nudged Verb's weapon aside with a swift twist of his own blade.

"You've got the right energy," the Guardsman said, "but energy alone isn't enough to fight in the Royal Guard. You need patience. Control."

Monn's lips curled into a small smile at his son's tenacity, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of concern. Verb wanted to be a Royal Guard more than anything, but Monn knew it wasn't just skill with a sword that mattered-it was discipline, awareness, and the responsibility of what it meant to protect the kingdom.

As the lesson continued, Monn turned his gaze elsewhere. Off to the side, near the edge of the training grounds, Lucy stood talking to one of her friends, a boy from her school, Finn, who had been visiting the palace. The two of them were engrossed in conversation, and Lucy's normally quiet demeanor had lightened, her usual serious expression replaced by a small smile.

Monn observed them for a moment, his gaze softening. He could tell Lucy wasn't interested in the military life like Verb was. She had her own quiet ambitions, though she rarely spoke of them. Still, she was at that age where the world began to show its complexities, and Monn knew she would find her way, just as Verb would find his.

Finn was a young man of noble descent, about Lucy's age, with dark hair and a nervous smile. Monn had observed him before at various gatherings-the boy was polite, well-spoken, and well-behaved. But there was a certain familiarity between the two that made Monn raise an eyebrow.

Lucy's face flushed slightly, but she didn't pull away when Finn made a gesture, showing her something from a datapad. The easy camaraderie between the two seemed more than just a fleeting exchange between classmates.

Monn quietly approached, stopping a few paces behind Lucy. His voice was calm but firm when he spoke, "Lucy."

She turned quickly, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of red as she glanced up at her father. "Oh-Father! I didn't see you there."

Finn immediately stood up straight, his posture stiffening with respect. "Your Majesty."

Monn gave him a polite nod before turning back to his daughter. "I see you're getting along with Finn well." His tone was light, though the implication was clear.

Lucy smiled, though she remained a little uncomfortable. "He's just a friend, Father. We talk sometimes. That's all."

Monn's eyes softened, sensing the sudden tension in the air. "I'm not concerned, Lucy. I'm just happy you're making friends. You're growing up fast." He ruffled her hair gently, and she smiled up at him, though her cheeks were still slightly flushed.

Finn, standing awkwardly to the side, cleared his throat. "I... I should probably get going, Your Majesty." He bowed his head and quickly excused himself, leaving Monn and Lucy alone.

Lucy didn't meet her father's eyes immediately. Instead, she focused on the ground. "You're always watching, aren't you?"

Monn chuckled softly, understanding her unease. "It's part of the job, I suppose. But you're growing up, Lucy. I know you're capable of making your own choices."

Lucy nodded but didn't reply. She turned her gaze back to Verb, who was still practicing in the distance. "Is Verb still training?"

Monn's gaze followed his son. Verb was now panting, exhausted but refusing to stop. "He's persistent. More than I ever was at his age."

Lucy looked up at her father. "Do you ever worry about him? About how much he wants this?"

Monn took a deep breath. "All the time. But he has to learn on his own. Just as I did."

They watched for a moment as Verb landed another strike-this time a successful hit, though his opponent's sword deflected it.

"Sometimes I think I'll never be like him," Lucy murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Monn knelt to her level, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You don't need to be like him, Lucy. You're your own person. And one day, you'll find your place. I trust you to figure it out."

Lucy smiled, though it was a small, unsure smile. She nodded, appreciating her father's reassurance.

As they watched Verb, Monn couldn't help but feel the weight of what was coming. The future of the kingdom lay before him, and though his children would one day bear its burdens, for now, they had time to be children. Time to find themselves.

Monn stood slowly. "I think it's time for Verb to rest. Don't you?"

Lucy nodded, and the two of them began walking toward the sparring field, ready to bring an end to the day's training. It was a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things, but to Monn, it was the only one that mattered at that moment.

Tomorrow, the council would reconvene, and the weight of the kingdom would return-but for tonight, he would enjoy this quiet peace with his children.