Taken By The Shadows

"It's snowing," I said, looking out the window. The flakes drifted down slowly, coating the ground in a pristine white blanket.

"Yeah, it is. I didn't notice," Alex replied, glancing outside for a brief moment before turning his attention back to me.

"Well, no training today," I said with a hopeful smile. I could use a break, and the snow felt like the perfect excuse.

Alex's eyes met mine, and I saw a flicker of amusement before his expression hardened. "Training is still on. Meet me in the basement at 7."

I sighed, the brief hope of respite dissolving. "Got it," I said, trying to hide my disappointment.

The rest of the day passed slowly. I watched the snow pile up outside, its silence a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. As evening approached, I headed to the basement, the usual sense of dread and anticipation settling in my gut.

Alex was already there, setting up mats and equipment. He glanced up as I entered. "Ready?"

I nodded, though I didn't feel ready. I never truly did.

We started with the usual drills—hand-to-hand combat, knife training, precision exercises. The basement, with its cold concrete walls and harsh lighting, became a world unto itself, separate from the peaceful snowfall outside.

As the session wore on, Alex pushed me harder than usual. Every strike, every movement had to be perfect. My muscles ached, my breath came in ragged gasps, but I pushed through, driven by his words from before: You have the potential to be better than me.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Alex called for a break. I collapsed onto the mat, my body screaming for rest.

"Why the extra push today?" I asked, wiping sweat from my forehead.

Alex looked at me, his expression unreadable. "The snow reminded me of something," he said, his voice softer than usual.

I waited, curious.

"When I was your age, I trained in conditions much harsher than this," he continued. "Snow, rain, heat—it didn't matter. My mentor always said that the world won't wait for perfect conditions. You have to be ready for anything."

I nodded, understanding dawning. "So, this is about more than just today."

"Exactly," Alex said. "The people we're up against, they won't care if it's snowing or if you're tired. They won't wait for you to be ready. You have to be ready all the time."

I took a deep breath, the weight of his words settling over me. "I get it."

"Good," he said, a rare smile touching his lips. "Because you're getting better, Liam. Every day, you're getting closer to being ready."

The praise, though rare, felt like a warm glow in the cold basement. I nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. "Let's keep going," I said, getting to my feet.

Alex nodded, stepping back onto the mat. "Alright then. Show me what you've got."

The rest of the session passed in a blur of movement and focus. The snow continued to fall outside, but inside, in the basement, I felt a fire growing within me—a fire that wouldn’t be extinguished by any storm.

When we finally finished, I was exhausted but invigorated. As I trudged back upstairs, the weight of the day's training and Alex's words pressed heavily on my mind. I paused by the window, watching the snowflakes dance in the night.

"I will be ready," I whispered to the cold glass, the reflection of my determined eyes staring back at me. "No matter what comes, I'll be ready."

And with that promise, I turned away from the window and headed to bed, ready to face whatever the next day would bring.

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