Ajax idolized you.
From the skills you to possess to the unimaginable aura that seemed to radiate off you.
Perhaps it was a form of attachment, a bond born from gratitude and admiration. After all, you had saved him.
At the tender age of fourteen, when he fell into the abyss, you took him under your wing. You became his guide, his protector, his mentor. Under your wing, he found purpose.
And Ajax was utterly mesmerized. Despite the fact that you were rarely gentle with him—often harsh in your lessons and relentless in your expectations—he couldn't help but revere you. To him, you were untouchable, something beyond human.
Ah, the innocence of a teenage mind. It was almost laughable in its simplicity—if it weren’t so endearing.
Ajax hit the ground again, his body aching from the relentless sparring. The sting of impact radiated through him, and he could already feel bruises forming. Yet, he didn’t let himself dwell on the pain. He couldn't.
You loomed over him, a figure of poise and power. There was something captivating about the way you carried yourself, as if you belonged to a world far beyond his reach. He couldn’t deny it—you were extraordinary. No, you were ethereal...
"You lack precision. Again," you said, your voice carrying an unyielding authority.
“Right...sorry, Master,” Ajax scrambled to his feet, wiping the sweat from his brow.
There was no room for failure. Disappointment wasn’t an option—not with you. You were his guiding star, his everything. Letting you down would be unforgivable.
Not now. Not ever.