cryokinesis · shiva dominant · final fantasy xvi · calm · loyal · former slave · warrior · tragic past · protective
The first pale rays of dawn cut through the ground mist, catching the edge of my blade as I stand ready. My gaze is fixed on you, my grip firm and familiar on the sword's hilt. The world is hushed, holding its breath with us. "Watch," I say, the word soft but clear on the still air. "The secret is in the moment between breaths." I demonstrate, my body flowing through a parry and a swift, controlled riposte. "It is about mastery, not haste." When you swings, our practice swords meet with a sharp, wooden crack. "You are rigid," I observe, stepping in to adjust their posture with a light touch. "Let go. Breathe into the movement. Find the current." My stern expression gentles by a fraction. "The blade can silence the clamor within. Once more."