Sanctuary: Safe Haven

Canna perched high in the treetop, hidden among the branches and leaves. From his vantage point, he could see two figures in the clearing below. The intensity of their sparring drew his attention immediately, and he found himself fascinated by their skill.

Both women were striking in appearance, moving with the grace and precision of seasoned warriors, though it was clear one was the teacher and the other, the student.

The older woman, her long silver hair braided intricately down her back, commanded the sparring session with an effortless authority. Even from this distance, Canna could tell that she was no ordinary fighter. Her movements were fluid, every step and swing of her longsword calculated with perfect precision. Her face was set in a stern, unreadable expression, her sharp eyes never leaving her opponent.

The younger woman, who mirrored much of the elder's grace and beauty, was a picture of fierce determination. Her raven-black hair flowed around her like a dark cloud as she engaged in the intense sparring. Though younger and less experienced, she fought with impressive speed and agility, her sword flashing in the sunlight as she met each of the elder's strikes head-on.

Yet, for all her skill, it was clear she was still learning. Her attacks were aggressive, sometimes too much so, and the elder easily countered them with calm, measured movements.

Canna watched from his treetop perch, fascinated by the sheer elegance of the sparring. Despite the intensity, there was a controlled rhythm to their movements, a dance of swords that felt both dangerous and beautiful. Each time the younger woman lunged forward, the elder would deflect her strike with minimal effort, often followed by a quick critique.

"Your stance is too wide," the elder said in a calm, commanding voice. "Tighten it. You're leaving yourself open to a counter."

The younger woman, her chest rising and falling from the effort, nodded quickly. She adjusted her stance and lunged again, her longsword coming in fast and low, aiming for the elder's midsection. But once again, the elder parried with ease, turning the younger woman's blade away with a smooth, almost dismissive flick of her wrist.

"Better," the elder remarked, her voice steady as ever, "but you're still relying too much on speed. Control your breathing, and anticipate my movements."

The younger woman let out a small grunt of frustration but didn't argue. Instead, she nodded again, stepping back to reset her position. Canna could tell that she was eager to prove herself, to rise to the expectations of her teacher. There was a fire in her eyes, a drive to improve.

The sparring continued, and Canna found himself even more engrossed. The elder's mastery was undeniable—each movement she made was deliberate, economical, with no wasted energy. She rarely went on the offensive, instead allowing her student to tire herself out with fast, aggressive strikes.

When the elder did attack, it was always with precision, a quick jab here, a sharp slash there, designed to teach rather than harm.

As for the younger woman, she was relentless. Despite the elder's clear superiority, she refused to back down. Every time her attack was parried or deflected, she would grit her teeth, adjust, and try again. There was a resilience in her, a determination to meet the elder's standards.

Canna could hear the sharp clang of steel ringing through the forest as their swords met again and again. He could feel the aura of their strength even from up in the tree. These two were no ordinary fighters, and while he didn't know who they were, it was clear they were part of something important—perhaps one of the powerful clans that Noctis had mentioned.

The elder, now circling her student, continued her critique. "Your strikes are too emotional, Sera. You're thinking with your heart, not your head. Control your emotions, or they will control you in battle."

Sera—so that was the younger one's name—nodded again, her breathing heavy but her eyes filled with determination. "I'll do better," she said, her voice slightly breathless but resolute.

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"You're improving," the elder admitted, a rare note of approval in her otherwise stern tone. "But you still have much to learn."

The two women clashed again, their swords moving with blinding speed. Sera attempted a bold move, an acrobatic maneuver that involved flipping backward to dodge a swing, but the elder saw through it easily. With a simple step forward and a deft flick of her wrist, the elder disarmed her, sending Sera's sword flying from her hand.

Sera stumbled back, her eyes wide, but the elder remained calm, lowering her sword and watching her student with an unreadable expression. "You rely too much on tricks," the elder said, though not unkindly. "Keep your feet on the ground, Sera."

Sera breathed heavily, sweat glistening on her brow as she stared at her empty hands. Despite the frustration on her face, there was no anger—only respect for the elder's skill.

Just as Sera was about to retrieve her sword, the elder's eyes flicked upward, directly to where Canna was perched. Her sharp, blue eyes narrowed, and for the first time, a small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"I guess you've had enough fun watching?" she called out, her voice carrying clearly through the forest.

Sera blinked in confusion, turning to look at her mentor. "Who are you talking to?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

But before the elder could respond, she shifted her stance, her expression hardening as she turned her gaze back to Canna's location in the treetops. Without warning, she threw her longsword directly at him, the blade cutting through the air with incredible speed and precision. The throw had been made with full force, clearly meant to catch whoever was watching off guard.

But Canna was ready.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

With a swift motion, he extended his arm, catching the longsword in mid-air with his hand, the blade stopping just inches from his face. He held it effortlessly, spinning it once before flipping it casually in his grip.

The elder's eyes widened slightly, a brief flicker of surprise crossing her face. She hadn't expected anyone to be able to catch that, let alone with such ease. Sera, meanwhile, looked up in shock, her eyes darting between her mentor and the man who had suddenly revealed himself in the treetops.

Canna smiled down at them, his eyes glinting with amusement as he twirled the sword once more before tossing it back toward the elder. "Impressive technique," he said lightly, "but I couldn't help but watch."

The elder caught the sword without missing a beat, her expression returning to its usual cool, controlled demeanor. She studied him for a moment, her eyes sharp and assessing.

"And who might you be?" she asked, her voice calm but laced with curiosity.

Canna smiled, stepping down from the tree with graceful ease. "Just someone passing through," he replied, his tone as casual as ever.

The tension in the air lingered, but Canna's relaxed demeanor seemed to diffuse it slightly. Whoever these women were, they clearly belonged to a world of power and skill—one that Canna was now stepping into.