Aria's POV
The clang of blades striking echoed across the training fields, rhythmic and sharp. Warriors were everywhere—young, old, seasoned, raw—each one locked in the dance of war, prepping for something they all knew was coming. Elena walked quietly beside me, arms folded, her face unreadable. I kept my eyes on the field but my thoughts wandered.
It was strange seeing them all train like this, some of them barely more than boys, clinging to discipline to hide the fear simmering beneath their skin. This wasn’t practice anymore. This was survival prep.
“You think they’ll hold if Victor storms the borders?” I asked.
Elena gave a dry laugh. “They’ll try. Most will die first. But they’ll try.”
We slowed our steps near a group of younger warriors—maybe no older than twenty—practicing close-range maneuvers. One of them broke away when he saw us. He was tall, his black hair tied back, sweat shining down his neck. He jogged over, wearing the kind of smile that had gotten him into and out o
