Zayn twirled one of the practice swords between his fingers, then gave it a light toss and caught it by the hilt, giving it a few test swings.
The polished steel hummed softly with each arc, slicing the air like it had something to prove.
Tobias, meanwhile, opened his inventory with a flick of his wrist, that calm, practiced motion of someone who'd been doing it for years.
At least that's what it looked like.
Two identical swords blinked into existence above his open palms — sleek, dark steel with runic engravings near the guard.
With a sharp inhale, he grabbed both and crossed them over his chest.
Zayn raised an eyebrow. "Dual wielding? Trying to compensate for something?"
Tobias gave a short, humorless chuckle. "Just giving myself a fighting chance."
"Wow," Zayn said. "If I'd known it was gonna be that kind of spar, I would've brought a blindfold too."
They stood in the center of the sparring courtyard behind the inn, the stone floor scratched from their earlier face off.
