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anyone. His gaze penetrated me, his hard expression watching me as his footsteps broke the distance between us. I raised my head. He didn't scare me, although his presence was authoritative over me, I didn't back down."I want to fight you." He said with his hands behind his body and his gaze directed at mine."Your request is an order." I put myself in a defensive position. If it was what he wanted, he would have it. The training began with calculated steps, a dangerous circle where our abilities were measured with each movement. He advanced with feline speed, his feet touching the ground with a lightness that seemed impossible for someone of his stature. I dodged the first blow, leaning my body back, feeling the movement of air near my face, but I didn't give myself the luxury of hesitating. Counterattack. A quick kick to destabilize him, which he easily defended, turning his body as if it were part of a rehearsed choreography. His movements were silent and deadly, revealing his dexterity and natural talent. But they didn't put me in a position of inferiority, because we seemed to be in a synchronized dance where there were no losers. His intensely shining eyes were fixed on mine, burning with a concentration that made my every small movement seem exposed. He was studying me. No, dissecting. My next strike, a quick punch with my right hand, was blocked, but instead of retreating, I used the momentum to twist my body, trying to land an elbow. He narrowly avoided it, his gaze still fixed on me. My heart was beating at a frantic pace, but not from fear-it was something more. Something I didn't have time to decipher. Then we move on to fighting with weapons. I wielded a black sword with a moon decorating its handle, it was the symbol of the necklace that I had never removed from my neck, the only thing that had come with me and that even though I didn't know its history it remained. I swung the blade with sagacity, cutting the air with speed and ferocity, my blows were accurate, de