Isolde's fist slammed into my stomach with practiced precision, following up with a sharp hook to my jaw. At the last second, I activated wind magic, dissipating some of the impact—just enough to avoid unnecessary pain. It worked.

I pivoted left, leapt, and aimed a rising kick. She caught my leg barehanded. Of course she did.

Without hesitation, she channeled mana and blasted me with a gust of wind, sending me headfirst into a bush.

"Agh!"

The impact stung, but this was part of training. Some call it "pain endurance." Sounds sophisticated, but really, it’s just an excuse to beat each other senseless until our bodies adapt. Whether it’s effective or just creative self-destruction is a debate I don’t care to settle.

"Lucy! Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" Isolde sprinted over, her voice laced with worry.

"Yeah, I’m fine. Think we’re done for today." I stood, brushing off dirt.

"Good! I’m exhausted." She wiped dust from my face, her thumb grazing my cheekbone.

Exhausted wasn’t an exaggeration. Six straight hours of this. The progress was undeniable—months ago, we’d collapse after minutes of running. Now, we could keep pace. Grueling, but necessary.

"Wanna explore with me?" I nodded toward a narrow alley leading to that towering structure that had nagged at my curiosity for weeks.

Tall, but obscured by surrounding buildings. Cathedral? Castle? I wasn’t sure. I just needed to see it up close.

"Won’t Mom worry if we’re late?" Isolde’s voice dropped, like we were plotting a crime.

Probably. But just a quick look.

"Just a peek."

Curiosity isn’t a crime, right? Observe, analyze, slip back home unnoticed. No reason for things to go wrong. And if we got scolded? I’d take the blame. This was my idea.

"Okay! Let’s go!"

I grabbed her hand, and we darted into the alley, pausing only to let a cart pass. The moment we stepped in, the darkness thickened.

I hate the dark.

I don’t say it aloud, but it’s fact. Months locked in a closet with scraps of food and no company leaves scars. Not the kind you reminisce about fondly.

But my current parents… they’re different. When I break something, they don’t hit me. They just talk. Calmly. Tell me to be careful next time. It’s strange. Nice, but unsettling—like part of me refuses to believe this kindness is real.

Isolde’s shaky breath snapped me back.

"Something wrong?" I turned to see her tense expression.

"No, it’s just… this place is kinda creepy." Her grip on my hand tightened.

Ah. So she fears the dark too.

I pulled her into a gentle hug.

"Sorry. Let’s go home."

I won’t make her endure this. Won’t let her feel what I felt.

"No… it’s fine. We can keep going."

"But—"

"Come on, Lucy. I don’t want you to regret not exploring."

I hesitated. Every instinct said turn back—this wasn’t worth forcing her through. But her insistence wasn’t hollow. She wanted to press forward.

And deep down?

I also wanted.