John lay awake well after dark, the castle quiet around him. Sleep came finally in fitful bursts, but his mind never relaxed.
If I stay inside these walls to train, he thought, I will not see Luther. He will wait and wonder why I have gone.
The thought brought an empty feeling to his chest.
Across the valley, Luther tossed in his own bed. The memory of yesterday—the stranger in the trees, John sprinting after him—played again and again. Answers slid just out of reach, until exhaustion finally dragged him into uneasy dreams.
---
Morning
John rose before the first bell. In the main hall his father was already waiting, arms folded.
"Hey, boy," Eric said, voice rough from training drills. "I've been waiting. Slept well?"
"Yes, Father. But the early summons? Something urgent?" John asked.
"Nothing new," Eric replied, the weight of his tone making it sound like more. "Eat, bathe, then straight to training. No slipping off like yesterday."
John nodded slightly. "Yes."
Yet as he ate, his thoughts returned to Luther—the conversations, the visit from that strange man. He ate quickly and went to the training ground, still distracted.
---
The Ground
Warriors clustered around a stone dais, practicing the lesson of the morning: summoning soldiers with the ancient spell of warrior power. Energy hummed in the air, small sparks rising from the earth as ghostly shapes half-materialized and shattered. John worked with them, stressing concentration.
There were quiet footsteps behind him. Two hands covered his eyes.
"Guess who?" a bright voice asked.
John didn't stir. "Elsa. No one else sneaks up on me like that."
He turned to return her smile. Dark hair flowed over a leather-bound tunic; sunlight flashed off metal trims on her bracers.
"You knew me too quickly," she said, mock-pouting. "Where's the sport?"
"Hard to forget the only person in the palace with the guts to surprise me," John replied with a short laugh.
Elsa punched his shoulder in mock annoyance. "Guts? You mean foolhardy." Her nails grazed enough to sting.
"Ow—see? Sharp as always," he grumbled, rubbing the area.
---
About Elsa
Daughter of Eric's closest supporter, Elsa was the palace's odd spark: a young woman who trained like any soldier, set on mastering blade as much as spell. Her keen wit and relentless enthusiasm had earned her a quiet fame with the guards—and a grudging respect from the veteran warriors.
---
"Now tell me," she said, crossing her arms, "why have you been vanishing every afternoon? You skip training, evade me, and return smelling of the woods. What is going on?"
"It's nothing," John said nonchalantly. "I just needed to be by myself."
"Oh please." Elsa's eyes narrowed. "Your father—my uncle—already told me. You've been slipping off to meet someone."
John hesitated.
"Heard it myself," she continued, voice rising. "Some boy from some poor village. That why you vanish?"
"Don't say that," John said, a glint of steel in his voice. "Luther isn't 'some boy.' He's good. Brave. He's saved my life."
Elsa's eyebrow went up, an incredulous smile spreading. "Saved your life? Really?"
"Yes. More than once."
She laughed, a sharp bright sound that echoed off the stone walls. "Oh, John. You and your strays."
John stepped closer, his voice lowering. "He's not a stray. He's… different. You wouldn't understand."
"Different how?" she pressed, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Stronger than the rich sons training here?"
John's jaw tightened. "That's not the point. He's my friend."
Elsa's laugh became more reflective. "Friend or not, you're risking a lot. Your father is concerned, you know."
"I can take care of myself," John said, though the vision of the spy in the woods flashed through his mind.
Elsa gazed at him for a long moment, the joking mask slipping. "Just. don't get hurt, John.".
He met her gaze, sensing a question she didn't utter. For an instant the training field stilled—a fleeting shimmer of called soldiers moving at the edge of sight.
Then Elsa's grin returned, again sharp and teasing. "But if this Luther is so extraordinary as you make him out to be." She laughed again, a brief, almost musical noise. "Then I simply have to meet him."
---
To be continued…