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The training grounds of the Brotherhood of Light were alive with the clash of steel and the grunts of exertion. Gabriel Belmont, barely 14, stood in the center of the dusty ring, his sword raised, sweat beading on his brow. His mentor, a grizzled knight named Connard, barked corrections as Gabriel parried and struck at a straw dummy. The boy’s movements were raw but promising, his dark hair plastered to his forehead, his blue eyes sharp with focus.
From the corner of his vision, he caught a flicker of movement in the oak tree beyond the training yard. A figure perched on a low branch, half-hidden by leaves. Brown hair glinted in the sunlight, and for a moment, Gabriel swore he saw eyes locked on him. His next swing went wide, earning a sharp rebuke from Connard.
“Focus, boy! You’ll be dead in a real fight with that wandering mind!”
Gabriel didn't mutter an apology, he did a leg kick that sent Connard down, making all the students laugh and as well as the Knights.
His gaze darted back to the tree. The figure was still there, motionless, watching. A girl, he realized, her silhouette slight against the dappled light. His pulse quickened, not from the training but from curiosity. Who was she? Why was she watching him?.
Connard called for a break after getting beaten by Gabriel again, and the other trainees dispersed, laughing and shoving each other. Gabriel seized his chance. Dropping his practice sword, he slipped past the wooden fence and jogged toward the tree. The girl noticed, her head jerking up. In a flash, she scrambled higher into the branches, nimble as a squirrel.
“Hey!” Gabriel called, reaching the base of the oak. “Wait!”
She didn’t answer. Leaves rustled as she climbed, her movements quick but deliberate. Gabriel didn’t hesitate; he grabbed a low branch and hauled himself up nearly to the top, his boots scraping against the bark. The girl was fast, but he was faster and stronger, his years of training giving him strength and agility. He caught glimpses of her through the foliage: a plain white dress, bare feet, and that cascade of chestnut hair.
At a higher branch, she paused, glancing down. Her face was partially obscured, but her eyes, light brown, wide, and wary, met his. “Why are you following me?” she demanded, her voice sharp but tinged with something softer, like curiosity.
“You were watching me,” Gabriel shot back, pulling himself onto a branch just below her. “I want to know why.”
She huffed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe I was just passing by. Ever think of that?”
“Passing by in a tree?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips. “Not likely.”
Her lips twitched, almost a smile, but she turned her head away. “You’re Gabriel, aren’t you? The one they say is special.”
He frowned, gripping the branch tighter. “Who says that?”
“People talk.” She shrugged, her tone evasive. “They say you’re destined for something big. I wanted to see if it’s true.”
Gabriel’s cheeks warmed, and he looked away, suddenly self-conscious. “I’m just training. Nothing special about that.”
She tilted her head, studying him. “You move differently. Like you’re fighting something bigger than a dummy.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that. The weight of the Brotherhood’s expectations already pressed on him, even at fifteen. He shook it off and climbed another branch, closing the gap between them. “What’s your name?” he asked.
She hesitated, then swung down to a lower branch, landing lightly. “Marie,” she said over her shoulder, already moving toward the ground. “And you’re too distracted, Gabriel Belmont.”
With that, she dropped from the tree and sprinted across the field, her laughter trailing behind her. Gabriel cursed under his breath and scrambled down, hitting the ground running. She was fast, weaving through the tall grass toward the forest beyond the Brotherhood’s keep. His heart pounded, not just from the chase but from the thrill of it: her taunt, her glance, the mystery of her.
The forest swallowed her, but Gabriel didn’t stop. He ducked under branches and leapt over roots, catching glimpses of her dress flickering through the trees. She was leading him somewhere, he realized, deeper into the woods where the light grew dim and the air smelled of moss and earth.
Finally, she stopped in a small clearing, breathing hard, her hands on her hips. Gabriel skidded to a halt, not tired. “You’re fast,” he admitted.
“And you’re stubborn,” Marie replied, a real smile breaking through this time. Her face was flushed, her hair tangled with leaves. She looked wild, like she belonged to the forest itself.
“Why’d you run?” he asked, stepping closer.
She crossed her arms, her smile fading into something more guarded. “I wanted to see if you’d follow. Most don’t.”
Gabriel didn’t know what to make of that. He stood there, catching his breath, the sounds of the training ground distant now. “Well, I did,” he said simply.
Marie’s eyes softened, and she stepped closer, her gaze searching his. “Maybe you are special,” she murmured, almost to herself. Before he could respond, she leaned in, her lips brushing his in a quick, fleeting kiss. It was soft, warm, and over before he could process it, leaving a faint taste of wild berries on his lips.
She pulled back, her cheeks pink, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “A reward for keeping up,” she said, then turned and slipped back into the trees, vanishing like a shadow.
Gabriel stood alone in the clearing, his heart racing, fingers touching his lips where her kiss lingered. He didn’t know who Marie was or why she’d been watching him, but he knew one thing: he’d find her again.