Chapter 12: A Time Unforgotten

                                    

                                          
The sun hung low over the horizon, casting a warm orange hue across the training grounds as young Ruo Xuan and Tian Kuo stood side by side, their weapons drawn and ready. The clang of swords echoed in the crisp morning air as disciples from both clans sparred, some in groups and others one-on-one. This had been a daily routine for years—training together, pushing each other to their limits.
Ruo Xuan glanced at Tian Kuo from the corner of his eye, his grin sharp, teasing. "You're getting slow, Tian Kuo. Maybe you're going soft?"
Tian Kuo's heart skipped, but he quickly masked it with a smirk. "Slow? We'll see about that."
They charged at each other, swords clashing with the force of their momentum. Sparks flew from the contact, but it was their eyes that burned with intensity. Tian Kuo's hazel eyes locked onto Ruo Xuan's teal gaze, the sharpness and clarity of Ruo Xuan's focus always leaving him breathless. He wondered if Ruo Xuan noticed—how he hesitated, even for the briefest of moments, when they sparred.
The truth was that every time their swords crossed, every time their eyes met, Tian Kuo felt a rush of something he couldn't quite name. It was more than admiration, more than friendship. He had known Ruo Xuan since they were children, growing up side by side in the shadow of their respective clans, but as they neared sixteen, those feelings had deepened into something more. Something he wasn't sure he could ever express.
"Focus, Tian Kuo!" Ruo Xuan's voice snapped him back to the present, just in time to dodge the edge of Ruo Xuan's blade. He gritted his teeth and countered, managing to push Ruo Xuan back a step, but not without effort.
Ruo Xuan was fast—faster than anyone else on the training grounds, and his movements were fluid, as if he were dancing rather than fighting. His long brown hair flowed behind him like a banner, and his teal eyes, sharp and determined, never wavered.
Tian Kuo loved that about him. Ruo Xuan never hesitated, never faltered. He was always fully in the moment, giving everything his all. But it also made him hard to get close to. Ruo Xuan's confidence and strength were like a wall, and Tian Kuo wasn't sure how to break through it.
"Is that all you've got?" Ruo Xuan teased, his voice light and mocking as they circled each other.
Tian Kuo narrowed his eyes, more at himself than at Ruo Xuan. He knew he could beat him, had done it countless times before, but today, his mind wasn't in the fight. It was too preoccupied with everything he couldn't say. Everything he wanted to tell Ruo Xuan but didn't dare.
And Ruo Xuan—he was oblivious. He had no idea of the storm brewing inside Tian Kuo. How could he? They were brothers in arms, friends bound by the same fate of their clans, fighting side by side in skirmishes against other rival sects. They had fought together, bled together, and won together, their bond forged in fire.
But Tian Kuo's heart had taken that bond and twisted it into something else. Something deeper. And every time they sparred, every time Ruo Xuan laughed, his heart betrayed him just a little more.
The clanging of their swords intensified, the strikes becoming quicker, more aggressive. But despite the fierceness of their sparring, there was no malice—only a shared understanding that they would always have each other's backs, in battle and out of it.
"Enough!" A commanding voice rang out, breaking the trance-like focus of their fight. It was one of the elders, calling them to halt their training for the day.
Breathing heavily, Ruo Xuan and Tian Kuo lowered their swords, exchanging a look that held both competition and camaraderie. For a moment, Tian Kuo allowed himself to hope—that maybe, just maybe, Ruo Xuan could feel something more between them.