I clutched my life and wished it kept
Marcus had been to the barracks before, though never like this. As a boy he’d come with his bow, loosing arrows at straw targets set up along the wall while the guards drilled in formation. He remembered watching from the edges, wide-eyed, as soldiers sparred with blades and shields, magic and shifts, their strikes echoing off stone.
But he wasn’t here to watch. Not anymore.
The clash of sparring rang from the courtyard beyond, drawing him forward. When he stepped through the wide doors, the familiar grounds stretched out before him. A pair of guards were locked in combat at the center, while others leaned on spears, waiting their turn. Marcus rolled his shoulders, steadying himself. He’d never stepped into that circle before. His training had always been quieter, more distant, made for healing and not for fighting.
But he wanted to learn.
My dearest love, I'm not done yet
infinite inspiration and endless thanks to odd and sky
