She Was Just A Child (PART 2)

CHAPTER 36: WHEN THE WALLS CRUMBLE

The morning air was crisp, the sky above tinged with the pale light of dawn. The training field was quiet save for the occasional clatter of weapons being checked and boots scuffing against the packed dirt. Dian stood in the center of it all, rolling the stiffness out of her shoulders as König loomed nearby, his presence as steady as ever.

She had trained with the team before—countless drills, countless missions—but today felt different. There was something hanging between them, a quiet weight neither of them acknowledged. She wasn’t sure if it was her own hesitation or the silent understanding König had come to accept about her.

But she was here. And she was moving.

That had to count for something.

König handed her a combat knife without a word, and she took it without hesitation. The cold metal was familiar against her palm, its balance steady in her grip.

“You’ll spar with Roze first,” König said, his voice calm but firm. “I’ll watch.”

Dian narrowed her eyes. Watch? That wasn’t his usual approach.

Roze smirked from across the training mat, twirling her own knife between her fingers. “Guess we’ll see if you’ve gotten soft.”

Dian snorted, stepping forward. “You wish.”

The second the words left her lips, Roze lunged.

Dian barely had time to react before the blade was slicing toward her side. She twisted out of the way, the edge skimming past her ribs as she countered with a quick slash toward Roze’s arm. Roze blocked with ease, pivoting to keep the momentum in her favor.

She was fast. But Dian was faster.

The sparring match escalated quickly, the sound of their footfalls and clashing blades filling the air. Dian felt the old familiarity settle into her muscles, the instinct to move, to strike, to predict every attack before it landed. Her heart pounded in rhythm with her steps, the rush of adrenaline sharpening her focus.

She needed this.

She needed the weight of something real, something tangible, to anchor her.

Roze struck again, aiming high this time, and Dian ducked, sweeping her leg low in a feint before twisting behind her opponent. In a real fight, she would have gone for the throat. But this wasn’t a real fight.

Or at least, it wasn’t supposed to be.

But then, something shifted.

Dian’s grip tightened on her blade, her breath coming shorter. She could feel something clawing at the edges of her mind, something dark and coiled and hungry.

For just a split second, she hesitated.

And Roze saw it.

With a sharp pivot, Roze slammed her elbow into Dian’s ribs, knocking her off balance. The breath left Dian’s lungs in a harsh exhale, and before she could recover, Roze had her knife against her throat.

Silence.

Dian stood frozen, her pulse hammering. Her fingers twitched around the handle of her blade, her body screaming at her to move, to retaliate, to win.

But she didn’t.

She couldn’t.

Roze stepped back, lowering her knife. Her expression was unreadable, but there was something knowing in her gaze.

“You hesitated,” she said simply.

Dian clenched her jaw, her grip tightening around her knife. “I didn’t.”