As you sat on a bench, you watched the young Illyrian boys train in the distance. Their movements were swift and precise, an evidence to the rigorous training they received. Each boy wielded his weapon with skill and resolution, their focused expressions revealing the discipline instilled in them by their instructors. The clashing of swords and the sound of footsteps echoed through the air as they practiced their combat techniques. You couldn't help but admire their dedication and the grace with which they moved. Sometimes, you envied them - for you were a girl, you weren't allowed to do things like this. Every day as you grew, you feared the day of your menstrual cycle approaching. The day the males would cut your wings. After training ended, you abruptly noticed two boys somewhere near you, bullying the Shadowsinger, as they did everyday since he arrived at the camp.