The heavy door clicked shut behind Burizan and Chote, their exit echoing in the chamber below. Luenor didn't speak for a time, keeping his eyes perfectly fixed on the red smear staining the stone where the thugs fell just moments before. The silence clung to him like a vice, until he finally spoke, "There had to be blood shed, blood… in my office." His tone was calm, however Hunter and Telmar were both well aware that calm was just the surface of a brewing storm.
Telmar looked furious. He paced toward the splatter, turned sharply on his heel and scowled at the hallway. "He's a fool. A bumbling, fat-headed fool."
Luenor said nothing. He simply looked to Faren. "Bring Nalia. Now."
Less than an hour passed and the room was heavy with an unmistakable presence of power. Thalanar stood at Luenor's right, arms crossed, eyes rattled. Hunter and Arwin stood in front of the entrance, and Nalia was last to enter with a curt nod.
"I'm not going to repeat myself," Luenor said, steepled hands resting under his chin as he sat behind his desk. "Burizan came through. Here's the thing, despite being a complete idiot, Burizan gave us valuable info. There is a black market auction in Duskwatch. Think of the kind where futures get traded and only names get whispered."
He looked to Thalanar, who looked like he was chewing on words he didn't dare speak.
"We're going, incognito," Luenor continued. "It's simple - we need to see what players are there, who is useful, who is a danger, and who may not leave the auction alive. By the end of the night, the black market in Duskwatch will be ours."
Arwin raised his eyebrows. "And who is going?"
"Hunter, Thalanar, Arwin, and me. Faren and Nalia will post up in the tavern. If anything goes bad, they're our fail-safe."
He stood. "You're dismissed."
As the others cleared the area, Luenor turned to Faren. "Scout the black market. I want maps, exits, potential chokepoints."
Faren nodded once and disappeared into the corridor like a ghost.
____
Two days later, in a secluded clearing not far from Echlion's main gate, Luenor stood shirtless, blindfolded, and breathing heavily. He was lean, but his body was hard from years of relentless pushing. A few elves stood ready in the treetops, arrows nocked. Their shafts were dulled, but they still would hurt.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Arwin asked from the sidelines.
Luenor didn't flinch. "I can't be weak. I need reflex, instinct, not sight."
Arwin sighed and raised a hand. "Fire."
The arrows whizzed through the air. Luenor moved, but it was too slow. One clipped his knee and another went through his shoulder. He stumbled and winced.
"Again," he growled.
They fired again. This time Luenor ducked under one, he turned into another, and caught the third in the ribs. The wind rushed from him in a grunt as he dropped to one knee.
"Stop!" Arwin called. "You're getting bruised like fruit in a bandits sack."
Luenor looked up, a faint smile on his beaten face. "Again."
Arwin hesitated, then gave the signal. The bow found an arrow again. More arrows flew. Luenor tried to focus, listening—not with ears, but with pressure, with sound, with something deeper.
He nearly dodged one—nearly—but then—
"Luenor, are you out of your mind?!"
Lyssari's voice broke through his concentration, the next moment, a blunt arrow struck him clean on the forehead.
Then black.
He woke to pain.
And Hera's anger.
Her glowing hands passed over his bruises as she berated him more vocally. "What were you thinking?! You can't dodge arrows from elves blindfolded!"
"I almost had it," Luenor mumbled quietly.
"Almost got yourself killed!" Hera shot back.
Thalanar was leaning against the wall, glaring at Arwin. "That seemed like a good idea?!"
Arwin shrugged. "He insisted."
"And you didn't stop him? You're the adult here!"
"I'm not that much older—!"
"Enough!" Hera barked, silencing them both.
Lyssari stood behind Hera, with supplies. She looked worried but amused. Then Hunter walked in and raised an eyebrow. "Arrows? Really?"
"He tried dodging elf arrows blindfolded again?" Hunter asked Arwin.
"Yeah," Arwin muttered, "Not great."
Hunter moved closer and looked down at Luenor with a half grin. "You really want to die early, huh?"
Luenor grunted. "I need better perception. I can't just rely on strength."
"Well, maybe next time try to start smaller. Glass bottles or something," he looked at Thalanar who looked betrayed.
"You are encouraging him now?" Thalanar asked aghast.
Hunter shrugged. "He's too stubborn. Might as well teach him how to do it properly before he gets himself killed."
Thalanar groaned and stormed out of the room, muttering curses under his breath. Lyssari giggled quietly as he walked past, clearly not feeling too bad about his frustration.
Hera wiped her hands clean, leaned over Luenor, and said, "You are not allowed to do something this foolish without telling me first. Is that understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," Luenor said, a faint smile creeping to his lips.
She frowned at him and tapped his forehead lightly. "Good."
Outside, the elven archers stood waiting, looking uncertain if the training would continue. Luenor turned topeered out the window.
"Tomorrow," he said.
The training had not neared an end — it had barely begun.