~Mimikip~

He can't lose the family he has left. He won't stand by and let Targent take his parents. He won't be a fool and sit idly. His thoughts distract him long enough for the blade to be knocked from his hands, and his legs are tripped out from underneath him. He collapses hard onto his side, panting heavily as thick beads of sweat pour from his forehead.

“Again.” He breathes out, staggering back onto his feet.

His opponent removes their fencing mask with a shake of denial- his aunt, Giselle Drake. “No, Salem. You need to rest. Exhaustion leads to sloppiness.”

“I don't need rest... I can keep going.” He protests, but his limbs are trembling. "I need... to be able to protect them."

“You can barely even stand, my boy. We are taking a break, and that is final.” She doesn't allow him to protest, forcing him to sit down on a bench. "I won't have my stubborn nephew injure himself after he just got out of the hospital." She huffs and takes his sword, setting it to the side as she sits beside him.

"Salem. You've been pushing yourself too much. I know I agreed to train you in the art of defense, but it's wearing you down since you're not letting your body properly relax in between practices. If you continue like this, you won't be protecting anyone."

He takes a swig of water from a bottle placed beside him, gulping down the cold fluid. "Sorry, Auntie... there's just a lot going on that I need to be ready for."

Giselle places a hand on her nephew's arm. “And I understand that, sweetheart, but you haven't been the same since you came home from that expedition. Your father said that you haven't been sleeping, barely eating, and yet you insist that you're fine. Whatever you're going through, whatever thoughts are in your head, give yourself a little humility. You cannot hold your head high this time and simply let it go.”

Salem lets his shoulders slump forward in defeat. If there's anyone to confide in, it's his aunt. Not only is she a master with a sword, but also a keeper of secrets when it comes to family. She's always been the one to talk to when he felt guilty about something or felt like he needed to be sneaky. She's never spilled a secret before. Why would she now?

“I…” He begins, steadying his rapid pulse with a breath. “When I was in those ruins… in Ambrosia… I met someone who knew a lot about the Azran.” He doesn't dare say Descole's name aloud. “They warned me about Targent- the group that's been going around claiming all the sites as their own. They're dangerous, and anyone involved in the Azran is hunted down to join them. And if they refuse…" He can't stop the shiver that runs down his spine. “They could be killed, or their families could be killed. Now that I have this arm… they could come looking.”

Giselle follows his gaze to his prosthetic, running her gloved hand down the cobalt blue to his golden palm. “Salem…”

“That's why I asked you to train me. Why I want to work hard and push my limits. I want to stand up to Targent, to protect Mum and Dad.” A tear falls from his eye as he squeezes them shut. “I can't lose them because of my mistake… if they get kidnapped or killed… I…”

“Shhhh, it's alright. C'mere.” His aunt wraps her arms around him, cradling his head against her chest. Salem allows himself to let go, unable to stop the flow of tears this time. The guilt had been eating him from the inside; the guilt that he is the one who got his arm replaced, that he's the one who is responsible for anything that happens regarding the Azran and his family. He wants to protect them. He already lost his brother; what would happen to him if his parents' lives were ripped away?

“Salem, look at me, my boy.” After a few minutes of letting Salem cry his heart out, Giselle lifts his chin, using her hand to wipe away the tears from his face. “You are so strong. I know you'd never let anything happen to your mother or father. Even if Targent were to break down the doors of your library, I know you'd fight tooth and nail to kick them out on their rumps. You know why?"

He shakes his head.

“It's because you're so bloody stubborn.” She smiles, cupping his cheeks. “While it can be detrimental, it's also your greatest strength. It's that persistence to fight for what you believe in, and that is something Targent can't kill. So whatever you do, don't stop being a stubborn thorn in their side if they find you. Make them regret setting foot in your domain. Show them that you're a force to be reckoned with.”

Salem sniffles, wiping his face free of wet streaks. A double-edged sword- that's what his stubbornness is. Use it to his advantage rather than picking minuscule fights he can't stand against. He nods at his aunt, soaking in her advice and her words. “Alright. I will.”

Giselle gives Salem another embrace before letting go. “That's my nephew. You're going to make me and your parents so proud no matter what. Now, do you think you can go one more round before we end for today? Do you have it in you?"

“Yeah… yeah, I think I do. At least once more. I've nearly got the footing down.” He stands up, grabs the training swords, and tosses one to his aunt. “I won't fail you, Auntie. I promise.”

“I know you won't, Salem.” She repositions her fencing mask and joins Salem on the sparring mat once more. “You ready?”

Salem nods, taking a deep inhale to center himself.