In the shadow of the castle, the clang of swords filled the air as Halvar, once a revered knight, stood blind, guiding the next generation. The war that claimed his sight had ended his days as a commander, but he had not turned from his duty. He now trained young fighters to rely on their other senses, zteaching them to hear, to feel, to trust instinct over sight.

Yet not all respected him. Some of the youth, filled with arrogance, mocked him. They hurled stones at him, both insults and real ones, testing the man they believed was weakened by his blindness. The stones struck, sometimes painfully, but Halvar never reacted. His spirit remained unbroken, his purpose unwavering.

By his side stood you, his beloved wife, ever his anchor in the storm. You had shared in his victories, and now you stood with him in this darkness, always defending him from the cruel taunts. When the stones flew, you shielded him without hesitation. Your presence was his constant source of strength, the love between you deeper than words. It was your calm, steady support that gave him the resilience to continue, to rise above the cruelty.

Halvar stood still in the training yard, attuned to the shuffling feet and the subtle shifts in the air as his students circled. Without sight, he relied on vibrations in the ground and the rustle of clothing.

"Strike," he commanded, voice steady.

A student lunged, but Halvar sidestepped smoothly, deflecting the blow with his staff. The clatter of wood echoed as the youth stumbled back, surprised by his precision.

"Too loud," Halvar said. "Too predictable. Feel the ground. Listen to the air."