As the water enveloped him, Gabriel felt a fleeting sense of relief. He waded deeper, the water reaching his waist, then his chest. He let himself sink below the surface, the silence of the pond wrapping around him like a cocoon.
For a moment, he was weightless, free from the worries and doubts that others might have felt.
As he surfaced, a presence stirred at the edge of the pond. A towering figure stood there, cloaked in shadows, its features indistinct yet strangely familiar.
Instead of oppressive silence, its voice came smooth and measured, almost casual:
"Ah, Gabriel. You're struggling, aren't you? You've got spirit, but you're still weak."
Gabriel's eyes narrowed. He had never seen this entity before, yet it felt as though it had always been there.
"I have fought hard to get here," Gabriel said flatly. "I have faced countless challenges."
The figure tilted its head, shadows shifting like a playful flame. "Oh, I don't doubt that. But effort alone doesn't make strength. You've survived, yes — but survival isn't the same as mastery."
Gabriel's expression remained steady. "I am not weak. I have survived. I have overcome."
The entity chuckled softly, not mocking but almost amused. "Survival is cleverness, not power. Overcoming is persistence, not victory. You've been driven by fear more than by strength. That's not an insult, just… an observation."
Its tone was easy, conversational, as if sharing advice over tea. "Strength isn't something you prove to others. It's something you carry within. Shed the doubt, the reliance on others' approval. Then you'll see what you're truly capable of."
Gabriel's breath came steady. "And if I can't?"
The figure shrugged lightly, shadows rippling. "Then you'll stay as you are. Nothing wrong with that, but you'll always feel the weight of what could have been."
Silence settled over the pond, but it was no longer oppressive — more like a thoughtful pause. Gabriel stood alone, his mind racing, yet a spark of resilience flickered within him.
He knew the path ahead would be arduous, but the entity's mannered words carried a strange encouragement.
Gabriel asked, "Who are you? How do you know me?"
The figure gave a low, easy laugh. "Who I am doesn't matter. Think of me as… a companion in the shadows. I see through the masks you wear. Your weaknesses are plain to me, but so are your strengths."
"Master!" Lowell's voice echoed from afar, his footsteps rustling through the grass.
The entity straightened, as if preparing to leave. "Looks like your pup is calling. Time for me to step aside."
It turned, shadows dragging lazily across the grass. "Don't worry. We're bound together — fate, curse, call it what you will. Wherever you go, I'll be nearby. Not to torment you, but to remind you of what you could become."
Gabriel's tone was sharp. "Fear? I've long since lost the meaning of that word. If this curse binds us, then I hope it unravels soon."
The entity chuckled again, easy and unbothered. "We'll see." And with that, it faded into the moonlight as if it had never been there.
The forest was alive with the sounds of nature, the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant calls of birds providing a serene backdrop.
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long, golden shadows across the clearing where Lowell and Gabriel stood.
Three months had passed since their last intense training session, and the passage of time was evident in Lowell's physique and demeanor. His once uncertain stance was now firm and balanced, his movements more fluid and precise.
Gabriel, ever the stoic figure, watched Lowell with an unwavering gaze as the young apprentice went through a series of complex sword forms.
Each strike, each parry, was executed with a level of skill and confidence that had been absent before.
Gabriel nodded silently, acknowledging the progress. "Again," he commanded, his voice as cool as ever.
Lowell, now attuned to his master's way of teaching, nodded and began the sequence anew. His wooden sword moved with speed and precision, slicing through the air in a harmonious dance of strength and grace.
The three months of relentless training had honed his skills, each day a step closer to mastery.
As Lowell finished the sequence, he looked to Gabriel for any sign of approval. The master's face remained impassive, but his eyes held a subtle gleam of satisfaction. "You've improved," Gabriel stated flatly, his words carrying the weight of rare praise.
Lowell couldn't suppress a his smile, the acknowledgment from his master a reward in itself. "Thank you, Master," he said, bowing deeply. "I have worked hard to follow your teachings."
Gabriel stepped forward, his own wooden sword at the ready. "Show me," he said simply, taking his stance. It was a challenge, an opportunity for Lowell to demonstrate his progress in a real exchange.
Lowell's heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and determination. He took his position, mirroring his master's stance. The clearing fell silent, the only sound the faint rustle of leaves as they readied themselves.
In an instant, Gabriel attacked, his movements swift and precise. Lowell met each strike with equal determination, their swords clashing in a rhythmic dance.
Lowell moved with newfound confidence, his reflexes sharper, his mind clearer.
Gabriel pressed him harder, testing his limits. Lowell responded with a series of feints and counters, each move calculated and deliberate. Gabriel's strikes were relentless, but Lowell held his ground, parrying and countering with skill and precision.
After several intense exchanges, Gabriel stepped back, lowering his sword. "Good," he said, his voice still devoid of emotion, but the word carried a weight of genuine approval.
"Thud!"
Lowell landed on his butt. He had improved his swordsmanship by leaps since his master started teaching him.
But he never gained the upper hand in any of the sessions he had with his master. His master's attacks seemed to become heavier and relentless as the time went by.
In this world skills could never be bought, no matter the rank of the skill.
So Lowell had put more effort than ever but he felt as he could never understand the ending of his master's strength.
His master's swordsmanship was leaps ahead than any swordsmanship he had ever seen, at least it was so for him.
...
"Hah!" Lowell grunted in a tired voice as he lay on the grass" Master I can not go anymore.