I couldn’t hear anything with my heart pounding in my ears. My muscles ached, cried out, and refused to obey whatever movement I asked of them. All I could do was look up. The sun was bright. Was it always this bright? I wondered, staring at it without a wince. Its rays were harsh and unforgiving, yet comforting. It felt like being hugged and told everything was going to be okay.

  “Are you gonna stay there and cook?” a commanding voice asked.

  “And what if I do?” I replied, holding back laughter.

  A hand grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me up.

  “You are a freaky-ass kid, you know,” he said, looking at me.

  It took a second for my eyes to adjust after staring at the sun. When they did, I saw a teenage boy gazing at me with little concern and mild curiosity. He almost resembled the sun with his light blue eyes and equally pale blond hair. After a moment, I broke the silence.

  “Yep! Glad you understand what I am.”

  “Never said that,” he replied.

  Suddenly, I was dropped back onto the ground. My muscles resisted the action of standing, but I managed it.

  Then came a painful blow to my stomach, and I flew backward several paces.

  “W-what… was... that... for?” I gasped, clutching my stomach.

  “If you can stand, you can fight,” he said, his tone flat and emotionless.

  “Can’t... you take it... easier? I’m not even a teenager yet,” I said, trying to suppress the pain.

  “And?” A quiet tease crept into his voice.

  The ground trembled as he pushed off with his feet and surged toward me. His blade was pointed vertically at his hip, signaling an attack meant to pierce my chest or slash upward to disrupt my line of sight.

  I twisted my body in the same direction as the blade, making it harder for him to land a clean strike. I angled my own weapon to catch under his and disarm him. Then, I stepped back to create distance, aiming for a counterattack.

  He followed without hesitation and landed a right hook to my sternum, sending me crashing into a nearby tree.

  Why did he go so hard on me today?

  Darkness swallowed my vision and everything went quiet.

  I woke in bed, once again staring up. She’d probably scold me again, I could already hear her voice in my head. Tell me how I wasn’t acting like a proper lady. I wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep and avoid the headmaster altogether. She tried to raise every girl to be proper, so we could find a husband to care for us.

  What a load of bullshit.

  A small chuckle escaped my lips at swearing internally. I couldn’t help being amused by my situation.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  When I was brought into the orphanage, a disowned noble of the Ironhearts, the headmaster had been ecstatic. She wanted to use me as an example to the other girls, to show them what they could become. I played along for a while because I had nothing better to do. I spent my days practicing noble etiquette, doing chores, and hoping my family would come back for me. I thought what they had done was just a cruel joke... That I’d see them again.

  With each passing day, I grew angrier. I started picking fights with the bigger kids. I never won. I didn’t want to. I wanted the bruises to silence the ache inside. Every time, I got an earful from the headmaster.

  I truly was a failure. Seina Ironheart. A proper lady turned delinquent.

  That was until Caleb offered to teach me the sword. He didn’t want to see me get beaten anymore, and he needed a way to kill time. He’d been training me ever since. Thanks to him—thanks to Caleb—I learned to better control my emotions. I never stopped getting yelled at by the headmaster, and probably never would.

  I jumped when Caleb’s voice cut through my thoughts.

  “How are you holding up? I didn’t hurt you too bad, did I?”

  He leaned in the doorway, boots polished, shirt tucked, sword at his side. He never dressed this nice unless something was wrong. And his face, sorrow I’d never seen before.

  My stomach dropped.

  “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

  He gave a weak smile. “A man and woman. Royal guards. Guess they liked my swordsmanship.”

  I gripped the sheets tight. “Doesn’t change that you’re leaving all the same.”

  Something tapped my head. His sword clattered onto the bed-stand.

  “Hey, what’s that for?!”

  “It’s what I’m leaving you with.” He pulled me into a hug, arms tight, voice lower. “Not just the sword. A promise. That you’ll be strong. That you’ll live. That you’ll find your own path.”

  His voice cracked on the last word. Then he turned away.

  “Take care of it like you’re taking care of me. I’ll see you around.”

  I stayed frozen, staring at the sword, my chest aching as his footsteps faded.

  The promise. His promise.

  And now its my burden to keep.

  As he walked away, the familiar pain of abandonment returned. That cold loneliness crept back in. I wanted to scream, punch, kick, or something. But I couldn’t. I fell back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. My thoughts wandered from Caleb, to the headmaster, to the orphanage itself... and finally, to my family.

  Father was a powerful mage, obsessed with legacy. Mother, a ruby-eyed beauty, always out of reach. Every nobleman wanted her hand, but Father wore her down..

  I was raised by the maids under strict orders to become a fearsome mage. But when I failed to connect to mana, Father cast me aside without hesitation.

  Just because I couldn’t use magic, I was deemed worthless and thrown into the orphanage.

  Thinking back filled me with rage.

  The days and weeks passed. I still got yelled at by the headmaster, I was used to it by then. The only thing that kept me sane was practicing the sword every day. I went over everything Caleb had taught me, again and again and again. Until those days and weeks turned into months and those months blurred into years. Eventually three years had passed since Caleb left, and I had turned 15.

  The sword grew familiar in my hands, almost natural. Like it had always been there.

  Hunting season had started, and plenty of adventurers were coming through the forest near the orphanage. I saw them sometimes while practicing. I’d improved my basic forms, but I had also started developing my own style. The standard techniques didn’t feel right anymore.

  It was late as I walked back toward the orphanage. The closer I got, the more I could hear the headmaster screaming. Probably about me. She would complain to anyone who would listen.

  As I stepped into the open field, I saw her yelling at the latest group of adventurers.

  The sun had long since set. Its warmth gone. Like Caleb.

  I walked toward them. The headmaster’s expression soured when she saw me. I gritted my teeth and pushed past her to enter the orphanage.

  A hand clamped down on my shoulder.