The next evening in the Scarlet Pavilion began like many before. Music filled the air. Laughter mixed with the sweet smell of wine and perfume. Nobles entered in their bright clothes, greedy eyes searching for beauty to warm their night.
Liora sat among them, wearing her mask of silk and smiles. She laughed at jokes, answered questions with clever words, and poured drinks with steady hands. To all of them, she was only a courtesan.
But her heart was restless.
Her mind was not on the noble at her side, but on the feel of the rapier in her hand the night before. She remembered Kael's words. Your blade must be sharper than cruelty. They echoed again and again.
---
When the Pavilion grew quiet after midnight, Liora slipped away. She went down to the cellar where she always trained. She thought Kael would not come tonight, but he was already there. He leaned against the wall, his sword at his side.
"You came," he said.
Liora lifted her fan-sword. "Of course. You promised to teach me."
Kael nodded and stepped forward. He drew his long blade with a smooth motion. It was old, but still strong. "Then show me what you know."
Liora spun, stepping light on her feet, and struck forward. Kael blocked her with ease. She tried again, fast and sharp, but his sword met hers every time.
"You move well," Kael said. "But you fight like a dancer."
"I am a dancer," she answered, her teeth clenched.
"Yes," Kael said, pushing her blade aside. "And that is your strength. But you must learn more. A fight is not a show. It is life or death."
His sword tapped her shoulder. "If I was your enemy, you would already be dead."
Liora lowered her weapon. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breath. Her pride burned, but not with shame. With fire.
"Then teach me again," she said.
Kael gave a short smile. "Good. Then we start with your stance."
---
The days became a pattern. By day, Liora lived as a courtesan, smiling for nobles, hiding her true self. By night, she trained. Kael taught her how to hold her sword, how to strike with speed, how to watch the eyes of her enemy, not just their blade.
At first she failed. Her arms shook. Her feet slipped. She grew bruises on her arms and hands. But she never stopped.
"You learn fast," Kael said after one week. "Faster than most knights I trained."
"That is not enough," Liora said, lifting her sword again. "I must be stronger."
---
One evening, as she finished her training, a voice called from the stairs.
"Stronger? For what?"
Liora turned fast, her rapier ready. A girl stood there, holding a small lantern. She was younger than Liora, with short hair and wide eyes. She wore the robes of a scholar, though torn and dirty. A heavy book was clutched in her arms.
Kael frowned. "Who are you?"
The girl stepped forward carefully. "My name is Seris Althene. I… I did not mean to spy. I only needed a place to hide."
"Hide?" Liora asked.
"Yes," Seris said quickly. "I was an apprentice mage. But my master… he wanted to use my gift for cruel things. I ran away. Soldiers are searching for me." Her eyes went to Liora's blade. "I heard the sound of steel and followed. I thought I would find guards. But instead…" She paused, almost in awe. "I found you."
Liora lowered her fan slowly. "You should not be here."
"I know," Seris said. "But please… let me stay, at least for tonight."
Kael studied her, then looked at Liora. "Your choice."
Liora thought for a moment. She saw the fear in Seris's eyes. She remembered her own fear, the cage of her life as a courtesan. Then she nodded. "You may stay. But you must keep our secret."
Seris gave a quick bow. "I swear it."
---
The three of them sat together in the cellar that night. Seris told her story: how nobles wanted to control her magic, how she fled with only her book, how she had nowhere to go.
"Then you are like me," Liora said softly. "A prisoner who wishes to be free."
Seris looked at her with surprise. "But you are a courtesan. You are safe here."
Liora's eyes grew sharp. "Safe? No. A cage with gold walls is still a cage."
Seris said nothing, but she understood.
Kael leaned back against the wall. "So now there are three of us. A fallen knight, a runaway mage, and a courtesan with a blade. Strange company."
Liora smiled behind her fan. "Strange… but maybe strong."
---
The next night, danger came.
The Pavilion was bright with music and wine, but outside in the street, a scream cut the night. Liora froze, the cup in her hand spilling.
"What was that?" a noble asked lazily.
"Only drunks," another said, laughing.
But Liora knew better. She excused herself, slipped away, and ran to the back door. Outside, under the lanterns, she saw it.
A beast.
Its body was black, like smoke turned solid. Its eyes glowed red. It had the form of a wolf, but larger, its mouth full of sharp teeth. A young boy lay on the ground, crying as the beast stepped toward him.
Liora's heart pounded. She had never faced a real enemy. She was not ready. She was only a courtesan with a hidden blade.
But then she heard Kael's voice in her mind: Do you want to protect, or destroy?
Her hand moved before her fear could stop her. She pulled the fan from her belt and snapped it open. The rapier gleamed under the moon.
"Leave him!" she shouted.
The beast turned its red eyes to her. It growled, low and deep, then leaped.
Liora spun to the side, just as Kael had taught her. Her rapier cut across the beast's shoulder. Black smoke spilled from the wound, but the beast did not fall. It snapped its jaws, so close she felt the heat of its breath.
She struck again, fast, her arm shaking with fear and effort. The blade cut into its side. The beast howled and staggered back.
For a moment, Liora almost dropped her sword. She was shaking, her chest burning with breath. But the boy was still behind her, crying. She had no choice.
She raised her rapier. Her eyes were fierce.
The beast leaped again. This time she thrust straight into its chest. The blade cut deep. The beast screamed, its body turning to smoke. In seconds, it was gone.
Liora stood still, her sword shaking. Sweat dripped down her face. Her heart raced like a drum.
But she was alive. And so was the boy.
The child looked up at her with wide eyes. "Thank you…"
Liora knelt and touched his hair softly. "Go home. Stay safe."
He nodded and ran.
Only then did Liora let her knees fall weak. She held her rapier tight, her breath hard. She had fought her first battle. And she had won.
---
Later, Kael found her in the alley. He looked at the black ash on the ground and the sword in her hand.
"You fought," he said.
"Yes," Liora answered. Her voice shook, but her eyes did not.
"You are not the same as before," Kael said. "Now you have blood on your blade. And that changes everything."
Liora looked at her sword. The fan still shone with its painted flowers, but she no longer saw it as decoration. It was her weapon. Her path.
"I am ready," she whispered.
Kael gave a slow nod. "Then your journey begins."
---