Story starts after one day-
The morning sun stretched over the green fields, throwing golden light across the hill where John and Luther had decided to meet. The air was fresh, carrying the faint smell of grass and earth. Luther came running up the slope, his small boots kicking up dust, while John was already waiting with a grin.
"You're late again,"
John teased, folding his arms.
Luther wheezed, attempting to get his breath.
"Not late.
Just...,
getting warm on the road."
John chuckled and tossed him a stick shaped like a sword. "Then let's see how warm you are."
They clashed wooden sticks against each other, the sound echoing like real swords. At first, they moved wildly like children, laughing and missing strikes. But as the minutes passed, their movements grew sharper, copying what they had seen from warriors training in the village.
Luther's strikes carried raw strength, while John's reflected the discipline taught by his father, Lord Eric.
"You're improving,"
