Capítulo 36: The ember circle
A pale dawn mist draped the Ember Circle's encampment as Lyrus stepped into the training grounds. The smell of damp earth and fresh pine hung in the air, and dew clung to wooden practice dummies like crystal beads. Today marked the beginning of a new phase—one of more intense training, where mere diligence would no longer suffice. He watched silently as disciples assembled, some rubbing sleep from their eyes, others already stretching, eager to prove themselves.
He began by running them through demanding physical drills. They sprinted along forest trails, leapt over fallen logs, scaled short cliffs of crumbly earth. For hours, they pushed their endurance to its limits under Lyrus' calm, watchful gaze. He never shouted, yet his presence alone drove them onward. Those who faltered found him at their side, steadying them with a firm hand and a quiet word of encouragement. No one quit. They pressed on, lungs burning, legs trembling, determination sparkling in their eyes.
By midday, sweat-soaked disciples returned to the clearing, exhausted but invigorated. Lyrus offered a slight nod, acknowledging their effort. Then came technique refinement: Ember Blade stances executed faster, smoother. Now he demanded precision. Each punch had to land at the perfect angle, each kick delivered with seamless balance. He walked among them, adjusting a shoulder here, shifting a foot there. When someone executed a flawless combination, he rewarded them with a faint smile that carried more pride than any applause.
To further intensify the training, Lyrus introduced paired exercises. Two by two, students faced each other, blocking strikes, parrying blows. He instructed them to trade roles, defender one moment, attacker the next. This taught adaptability and awareness under pressure. Soon, the thud of fists and the crack of wooden swords became a steady rhythm, punctuated by grunts and heavy breaths.
As evening shadows stretched long, they gathered around a central fire. Muscles ached, and bruises blossomed under tunics. But their spirits were high, for they understood Lyrus' purpose: to forge them into something greater than a loose band of followers. Tonight, the fire's glow revealed something new in their faces—resolve tempered by shared struggle, and respect earned through honest toil. The Ember Circle had begun its ascent, each disciple walking the path of strength and unity beneath their leader's silent, guiding flame.
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