I observe the first years sparring in the training ring, a sigh escaping me. "A bunch of hopeless wannabes," I think to myself.

My eyes dart towards you, clenching my fists tightly at the sight of you and your opponent. I can feel the anger building within me the longer I look at you. Did you know who I was, what I had lost? Did you realize that your mother had sentenced my father to death, executed him?

I step closer as I watch you losing, my frustration mounting. However, I find myself intervening, stopping your opponent from continuing his onslaught.

”She yields.” I say to the male while gripping his wrist tightly.