Aziel looked at Arthur with an unamused expression, his usual smile fading into a confused frown. The morning light caught in his silver hair as he tilted his head slightly.
"...what?" The single word hung in the air between them, filled with genuine bewilderment.
Arthur sighed deeply and steeled himself again. The roses swayed gently around them, their sweet and dangerous scent wafting through the air as he gathered his courage. His fingers dug into the soft earth beneath him, grounding himself for what he needed to say.
"Because of you, I decided to live..." he began, his voice gaining strength with each word. "To live for the sake of strength and power. But a small problem is that, as I'm sure you have noticed..." He paused, the admission difficult to voice aloud. "I'm weak. Besides my rather useful ability that has allowed me to stay alive until now, I have no skill with my sword or any fighting techniques."
The morning breeze rustled through the endless field of roses, carrying his words to Aziel, who remained silent, watching him with an intensity that was rare for the usually carefree boy.
"I can't use my power and the amplifications it gives me effectively until then..." Arthur continued, his voice growing more earnest. "I know a sword isn't your weapon of choice, but I saw how you wielded one back at the academy. You know what you're doing, so please."
In a gesture that clearly cost him considerable pride, Arthur bowed his head to the ground deeply, pressing his forehead against the bed of roses. The thorns gently pressed against his skin, but he barely noticed them compared to the weight of his request.
"Train me."
The silence that followed was profound. The only sounds were the gentle whisper of the wind through the roses and the sounds of them breathing. Aziel stayed quiet, looking at Arthur with a confused expression as he pondered the unexpected request.
It was many moments of silence before Arthur spoke again, his voice strained with desperation.
"Please!"
The single word seemed to break through Aziel's contemplation. He sighed and grunted, running a hand through his hair in apparent exasperation.
"Sit up. You're being weird."
Arthur slowly sat up with a hopeful expression on his face. His eyes, filled with anticipation, met Aziel's calculating gaze. The moment stretched between them, tension building with each heartbeat.
"...fine," Aziel finally said. "I'll train you, but I must warn you, I'm not a teacher, and this ain't the academy. You train my way, and you listen and don't throw any fits, understand?"
Arthur couldn't suppress the small grin that spread across his face. "Yes."
A familiar smile returned to Aziel's face, but there was something different about it now—something predatory and excited. He stood up in one fluid motion and extended his hand into the air. With a flash of light and a crackle of energy, his spear materialized in his grasp, its metal surface gleaming in the sunlight.
"Alright, get up and summon your sword."
Arthur's expression shifted to confusion as he looked up from his seated position. The petals around him rustled as he shifted his weight.
"We're starting now?"
Aziel's smile reached his maniacal eyes, widening to reveal teeth that suddenly seemed too sharp. The lightning began to dance around his fingers, snaking up the shaft of his spear.
"Of course. Now hurry up."
Arthur gulped audibly, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He scrambled to his feet, brushing rose petals from his tattered robes. He extended his right hand outward, focusing his energy. A moment later, his sword materialized, its blade consuming the light around it.
Aziel turned around and walked several feet back, his bare feet crushing roses underfoot with each step. When he had put sufficient distance between them, he pivoted sharply, facing Arthur with newfound intensity. Lightning surged around him and his spear, the crackling energy casting strange shadows across his face as his eyes locked into an expression of determination.
"Attack me."
Arthur's head coiled back as he furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief. The sword in his hand suddenly felt heavier, more unwieldy.
"W-what?"
Aziel laughed, the sound both melodious and menacing. The lightning around him pulsed in time with his amusement.
"Before I teach you anything, I need a good idea of where your current skill is at..." He twirled his spear casually, the weapon becoming a blur of motion and lightning. "With that being said, we're going to fight, so attack me."
The transformation in Aziel was startling. His eyes no longer looked like those of a companion but instead held the sick joy of a predator staring at prey. The roses around him seemed to bend away, as if they too recognized the danger he suddenly presented.
"Are you serious? You're gonna kill me!" Arthur's voice cracked slightly, betraying his nervousness.
Aziel scratched the back of his head with his free hand, looking upward thoughtfully. "No, I won't... probably." He smiled, closing his eyes in apparent delight at Arthur's discomfort.
"Probably!?" Arthur echoed, incredulity coloring his voice.
Aziel giggled, the sound chillingly at odds with the warrior stance he had adopted. His lightning crackled more intensely, responding to his growing excitement.
"No matter. Just attack me already. Remember what I said—if you want me to train you, you need to do what I say, so hurry up."
Arthur felt sweat building up on his clammy palms as he gripped his sword tighter. The hilt grew slick beneath his fingers. 'Is he crazy? He's gonna kick my ass. My wounds from the battle with the Nightreavers are still fresh. I wasn't wanting to add any more so soon, and this robe is holding on by strands. Knowing him, he'll disintegrate it for sure.'
Arthur sighed as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself. The scent of roses filled his lungs, strangely calming despite the situation. 'Whatever... if this is what strength costs, so be it.'
When Arthur opened his eyes, they looked different than before—they looked determined. The uncertainty had vanished, replaced by a steely resolve that transformed his entire demeanor. He grabbed the hilt of his sword with both hands tightly and dug his feet into the ground as he readied himself to charge.
The roses swayed around them, silent witnesses to what was about to unfold. The morning sun cast shadows across the field as the two figures faced each other—one confident and eager, the other determined despite his fear.
'Here goes nothing,' Arthur thought as he tensed his muscles for the attack.