Cyra's eyes sparkled with excitement as King Zarius declared that her training would begin immediately. "When?" she asked, her voice trembling with anticipation. King Zarius pointed across the vast, cavernous hall, the dim lighting casting long shadows on the walls, right at Lloyd. "Now," he replied, his firm tone leaving no room for argument.
Cyra nodded eagerly and teleported to Lloyd's side, her small form materializing beside him with a soft "pop." She turned to him, her face alight with joy, and exclaimed, "Lloyd, Father said I can start training with you now!" Lloyd chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and replied, "I already knew that, little sis. You're pretty excited, huh?"
Cyra nodded vigorously, her ponytail bobbing behind her. "I'm going to be cool, no, even cooler than you!" Lloyd laughed, his voice echoing through the hall, and suggested a race to the training grounds. "Let's see who gets there first. You know, running?" Cyra's face lit up with determination. "Ooh, sure! I'm gonna beat you!"
The two of them took off, their feet pounding the stone floor in unison. Lloyd's long strides easily outpaced Cyra's shorter legs, but she ran with a fierce enthusiasm, her little heart pounding with excitement. As they approached the training grounds, Lloyd slowed to a jog, then a walk, allowing Cyra to catch up. He ruffled her hair, grinning, and said, "Good try, little sis. Maybe next time you'll beat me." Cyra pouted, her face scrunched up in a mock scowl, but her eyes sparkled with mirth.
King Zarius observed the exchange between Lloyd and Cyra with an air of detachment, his expression unreadable. However, beneath his calm exterior, he was intensely focused on assessing Cyra's potential. He wanted to gauge her ability to learn quickly, to adapt, and to improve. Her first training session would be a crucial indicator of her natural talent and her capacity for growth.
As he watched Cyra eagerly follow Lloyd to the training grounds, King Zarius' mind worked overtime, analyzing every detail. He expected mistakes, plenty of them, given that this was her first time training. But he also expected a certain level of intuition, a spark of innate ability that would set her apart.
King Zarius' goal was ambitious, some might say cruel: he aimed to mold Cyra into a formidable opponent, a worthy match for himself, before she turned 50. The gap between their power levels was vast, but he was willing to push her to her limits, to force her to grow and adapt at an accelerated pace. He didn't care about the potential cost, the physical and emotional toll this would take on Cyra. All that mattered was the end result: a powerful, ruthless, and loyal ally, forged in the fire of his own ambition.
Lloyd assumed a fighting stance, his eyes locked on Cyra. "Let's practice your attack speed. Don't hold back, I want to see what you're capable of." Cyra flashed a cocky grin, her eyes sparkling with confidence. "I won't," she said, mirroring Lloyd's stance.
With a swift teleportation, Cyra appeared behind Lloyd and threw a punch, but he anticipated the move and dodged with ease. Undeterred, Cyra aimed a kick at his legs, hoping to bring him down. However, Lloyd teleported behind her and gently pushed her forward, sending her stumbling.
"Your attacks are too slow, Cyra. You need to be faster and more accurate. And don't forget to position yourself well – it's crucial in battle," Lloyd advised, offering her a hand up.
Cyra groaned, exasperated, and tried again. However, her attempts were clumsy, and she ended up on the floor, panting heavily. King Zarius watched with a hint of disappointment, his eyes narrowing slightly. Lloyd, on the other hand, couldn't help but be amused by Cyra's antics.
As he helped Cyra up, Lloyd glanced at King Zarius, seeking his reaction. To his dismay, he saw disappointment etched on his father's face. Lloyd had expected this, knowing King Zarius' high standards, but he had hoped for a more encouraging response, especially since it was Cyra's first time training. He thought to himself, 'At least she'll take me more seriously now... Hopefully'.
Lloyd's thoughts swirled with questions and doubts, a perpetual puzzle he couldn't quite solve. His father's eagerness to train Cyra seemed disproportionate, and he wondered if it was due to her unique dual heritage. Lloyd's mind wandered to the mysterious circumstances surrounding his mother's disappearance, coinciding with Cyra's birth. The timing seemed too convenient, too calculated. He couldn't shake the feeling that his father's emotions, or lack thereof, were suspect.
King Zarius' voice broke the spell, instructing Cyra to rest before resuming her training. Lloyd watched as his father departed, leaving him with a sense of unease. He turned to Cyra, still on the floor, and said, "You heard Father. I'll leave you to rest for a bit." Before quickly adding, "I have some things to attend to anyway."
Lloyd gestured toward the entrance, where a servant stood waiting. Lynn, the servant, wore a sleek black dress with a subtle red trim, her blonde hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. Her horns, a deep crimson, curved elegantly from her forehead, and her Death Eyes seemed to gleam in the dim light. A slender tail swished behind her, and her tanned skin seemed to glow in the soft illumination.
"If you need anything, you can go to Lynn," Lloyd said, his voice low, before turning to leave. Cyra, still catching her breath, huffed a soft "A-alright" without looking up, her eyes fixed on the floor.
Lloyd departed, leaving Cyra to her exhaustion. She lay on the cool floor, her energy depleted from the intense training. But as part Angel, her vitality was resilient, and she felt her strength returning with remarkable speed. Within mere milliseconds, her fatigue began to dissipate, replaced by a renewed sense of determination.
With a burst of enthusiasm, Cyra sprang to her feet and began training on her own. She teleported from spot to spot, her form blurring as she vanished and reappeared across the hall. Each teleportation was a tiny increment faster than the last, her speed and agility increasing with every attempt.
Next, Cyra focused on building her striking power. She threw punches and kicks at the empty space, her fists and feet moving in swift, precise arcs. With each strike, she concentrated on channeling her energy, imagining herself hitting a solid target. Her blows became faster, harder, and more precise, her technique honed by sheer force of will.
As she trained, Cyra's eyes shone with an unyielding intensity, her face set in a fierce determination. She was resolved to improve, to become stronger, and to master the skills her father and brother were teaching her. The sound of her teleportations and striking echoed through the hall, a testament to her unyielding spirit.
─── ⋆Time Skip⋆ ───
Lloyd returned to the training hall, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Cyra. She was completely absorbed in her solo training, her focus solely on improving her skills. Lloyd stood by the entrance, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched her. He observed her teleportations, her punches, and her kicks, noting the areas where she needed improvement. For a while, he simply stood there, enjoying the sight of his little sister dedicating herself to her training.
But as the moments passed, Lloyd decided it was time to intervene. He approached Cyra, who still hadn't noticed him, too caught up in her own world. That's when the unexpected happened - Cyra somehow managed to punch herself in the face. Lloyd's smile froze, and he stared in surprise before bursting into laughter.
Lynn, who had been standing at the other entrance of the hall, couldn't help but giggle at the sight. She teleported towards Cyra, concern etched on her face. "Your Highness, are you alright?" she asked, helping Cyra up from the floor.
Cyra rubbed her face, looking sheepish. "I'm not - oh wait, I am..." She realized that the pain had already healed, thanks to her Angelic heritage. Lynn smiled, satisfied that Cyra was okay, and teleported back to her original position at the entrance, her eyes still sparkling with amusement.
Lloyd, still chuckling, approached Cyra. "Well, well, well. Looks like someone needs to work on their aim." Cyra glared at him, her face still flushed from the self-inflicted punch.
"Shut up, Lloyd," she muttered, trying to hide a smile.
"Ah, come on, Cyra. You have to admit, it's pretty funny. I mean, who punches themselves in the face?" Lloyd teased, chuckling.
Cyra crossed her arms, pouting. "It was an accident. And it's not like I'm the only one who's ever made a mistake during training."
"Oh, but this was a spectacular one," Lloyd said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I mean, I've seen you teleport into walls, trip over your own feet, but this... this is a masterpiece."
Cyra's glare deepened, but Lloyd just laughed. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. But just for the record, you're really going to have to work on your self-control. You can't keep punching yourself in the face every time you get frustrated."
Cyra huffed and turned away, refusing to talk to Lloyd for the rest of the training session. Lloyd shrugged, still grinning, and began to help her with her training, offering tips and advice on how to improve her technique. Despite her silence, Cyra listened intently, determined to master her skills and prove to her brother that she wasn't a total failure.
»»—————- ♔ —————-««
King Zarius: "Lloyd, I expect to see improvement in Cyra's training. She needs to learn to control her powers."
Lloyd: "Yes, Father. Because nothing says 'control' like a five-year-old teleporting into a wall."
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Also...
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Draco: "Lloyd, remind me again why we're training a five-year-old to fight."
Lloyd: "Because father wants to create an army of miniature Devil warriors, obviously."
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[A/N]: Lloyd is just ✨. No one can tell me otherwise.
Thanks for reading! ^^
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