CHAPTER 52: DEFINE RESTRAINT

  “Finally!” Helel yelled, rolling his shoulders when Yael tossed him a padded longsword.

  The blade spun end over end through the sunlit air, a lazy arc that would have clipped a pillar if mishandled.

  Helel caught it one-handed without looking, wrist snapping down as the hilt met his palm with a solid, familiar weight.

  He rolled the balance once, then twice, thumb pressing into the wrap, feeling for imperfections out of habit more than need.

  The motion flowed through him like an old refrain his body remembered even when his mind wandered elsewhere.

  His shoulders loosened, spine aligning, stance settling into something deceptively casual.

  “Let’s see if you shall be a worthy opponent!” He declared, pitching his voice loud enough to carry, punctuating it with a flourish of the blade.

  The grin came too fast and bright.

  A flash meant to entertain and disarm all at once.

  Raphael’s gaze snapped to him from the edge of the training ground, sharp as a hook catching cloth mid-fall.

  Not a threat.

  A reminder.

  “Helel.” Raphael said evenly, tablet tucked against his side.

  Voice measured in that particular way that suggested he had already imagined several disastrous outcomes. “Remember restraint.”

  Helel shot him a sideways glance, grin never faltering, and lifted one shoulder in an exaggerated shrug as if to say, define it first.

  His eyes flicked back to the blade.

  Then to Suryel, as though the matter were already decided. He didn’t answer.

  He never did when Raphael used that tone.

  Around them, the training ground had settled into a loose ring.

  Bodies spaced by instinct and centuries of learned caution.

  Several Sentinels leaned against pale stone pillars, arms crossed or hands resting on hilts, pretending indifference while tracking every shift of weight at the center.

  A few younger guards whispered bets under their breath before being shushed by older ones who knew better than to tempt fate.

  Near the stairs, two junior healers lingered with baskets of gauze and salves, murmuring quietly as they watched.

  One of them adjusted the strap on a satchel twice, fingers betraying nerves despite practiced calm.

  This distance wasn’t casual.

  It was earned.

  Sunlight poured through the open arches overhead, washing the stone in gold and catching in the dust kicked up by boots and movement.

  The wards etched deep into the floor hummed faintly beneath their feet, old sigils half-awake, responding to intent more than force.

  They didn’t glow.

  They never did unless something went… Utterly wrong.

  The air smelled of stone, sweat, and effort.

  Nothing like the infirmary.

  Azriel emerged from the Lapis Lazuli corridor without ceremony.

  Boots nearly silent against the floor as he stepped into the open space.

  His presence was registered before his movement did, the way it always did.

  He was already turning his head before his second foot cleared the threshold, attention snapping instinctively toward the center of the ground.

  He was busy, pulled elsewhere by duty that never slept, and only now had time to come looking.

  He stopped.

  One sweep of the scene was all it took to stall him.

  Suryel and Helel stood squared off at the center of the ring, padded blades raised, their postures mirroring and mismatched all at once.

  Helel bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, energy loose and coiled, grin playing at the corner of his mouth like a dare.

  Suryel stood still.

  Too still.

  Her shoulders were set, jaw tight, eyes sharp in a way that scraped at Azriel’s attention.

  There was no humor in her stance.

  No looseness.

  Just readiness held in her cheek.

  Michael lingered nearby with his arms crossed, weight evenly distributed, presence dense enough to warp the space around him.

  He was positioned so he could step in from any angle without warning.

  Raphael stood at the edge of the ring, tablet in hand, posture calm but rigid, tension wound beneath every line of him.

  Gabriel hovered half out of his seat on the low stone bench, hands braced on his knees, eyes flicking between Helel and Suryel as if measuring how fast he’d need to stand.

  Yael sat beside him, breathing still a touch heavier than normal, one hand pressed around an ice pack against his ribs where the earlier strike had landed.

  His gaze never left Suryel.

  Azriel moved quietly and sat between Gabriel and Yael without comment, folding his hands in his lap.

  “Hi...” He greeted calmly, voice carrying without effort. “What’s happening?”

  His head tilted slightly, curiosity edged with something more careful. “What did I miss?”

  Gabriel leaned toward him, keeping his voice low despite the open space. “Rehabilitation.” He paused, lips pressing thin. “And possibly a bad idea.”

  Helel barely waited for a signal.

  As soon as Michael waved his hand, he moved first.

  Not warm-up fast.

  Decision fast.

  His padded blade snapped out in a clean diagonal, shoulders turning sharply as the strike cracked against Suryel’s upper arm before she could fully rotate into it.

  The sound echoed off the stone.

  “Point, Helel.” Michael called instantly, already stepping forward half a pace, authority flooding the space whether he crossed the line or not.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Raphael’s head snapped up from his notes. “Helel.”

  Just his name, clipped and tight.

  That was enough.

  Helel flicked a glance at Raphael, then turned the grin back on Suryel as if nothing had been said.

  He rolled his shoulders again, blade settling loosely at his side.

  Suryel sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth, pain bright and precise.

  Her jaw tightened, then she nodded once, acknowledging the hit without complaint.

  Her grip shifted.

  Her feet slid into a triangle stance, balance redistributing with quiet finality.

  Something locked into place behind her eyes, focus narrowing to a razor line.

  Helel bounced lightly, eyes gleaming.

  “You good, sunbird?” He asked, tilting his head.

  The word slipped out unguarded.

  Old.

  Familiar.

  Suryel stilled.

  She didn’t answer.

  Second exchange.

  Helel feinted high, dipped low, then slid inside her guard with predatory ease.

  The padded blade struck her side with a dull thud, knocking the breath from her in a sharp exhale.

  “Point.” Michael said again, sharper now as he stepped fully between them, throwing Helel a look stripped of humor.

  Raphael shifted forward on the stairs, paper rustling beneath his fingers.

  “Helel.” He said, voice clipped. “That is enough speed.”

  Helel lifted both hands briefly, blade dangling from one finger. “What? I am barely trying.”

  Then he laughed.

  Suryel’s jaw set.

  Her attention narrowed.

  She stopped reacting to his voice, stopped chasing openings.

  The noise of the training ground dulled at the edges, sunlight and movement blurring into something secondary.

  Her sword became a wall.

  She absorbed the force of his strikes and redirected them, letting impacts roll through her shoulders instead of meeting them head-on.

  She gave ground only when she chose to, retreating a step, holding, angling away.

  Every movement measured.

  Every breath deliberate.

  Yael leaned forward without realizing it, fingers digging into his knees as worry tightened his chest.

  Helel circled her, grin widening when she refused his bait.

  “C’mon, Suryel~” He sang lightly, pacing and zig-zagging on his feet just outside her reach. “You hit Yael harder than this. Hit me. Once. Or can’t you?”

  Yael flinched, starting to speak.

  Gabriel shot him a look that said don’t.

  Helel lunged again.

  Overconfident.

  Relaxed.

  Expecting retreat.

  Suryel stepped into his reach instead.

  Their blades tangled.

  Padded wood scraped harshly as she twisted her wrists, turning with his momentum rather than against it.

  Her shoulder dipped, foot sliding back just enough.

  The sword tore free from Helel’s grip and skidded across the stone, spinning to a stop near the edge of the ring.

  Silence landed a heartbeat later.

  Suryel froze, chest heaving, vision sharp and bright.

  Anger surged hot now that the objective was complete, adrenaline with nowhere to go.

  Helel blinked.

  Then started to laugh. “Oh, that was—”

  Her eyes snapped to him.

  The sword rose overhead, controlled.

  It came down.

  Hard and exact.

  — SMACK!

  The padded blade struck square on his head.

  Helel stumbled back two steps, stunned more than hurt, one hand flying up instinctively.

  “Point, Suryel!” Michael called, already moving.

  He intercepted her smoothly, confiscating the sword before the next thought could become action.

  She glowered at Helel over Michael’s shoulder, brushing her hand against her pants before pointing. “I have more where that came from.”

  Helel rubbed his head, then laughed outright.

  “Ow. Worth it.” His smile softened, pride bleeding through the humor.

  Raphael exhaled slowly, relief and exasperation tangled together.

  “Match concluded.” He said firmly, voice carrying.

  “Before someone learns the wrong lesson.” His tired look lingered on Suryel then he grabbed Helel to check his forehead before he could grumble.

  She stepped back, adrenaline bleeding out in a tremor through her hands.

  She flexed her fingers, grounding herself, a quiet smile ghosting across her face.

  Azriel watched her closely, thinking.

  She’s not sedated.

  Not hollowed.

  Alive.

  Even smiling with Helel.

  He leaned back slightly, enjoying the peace they’ve fought to hold.

  He added to his thought, it was all worth it.

  “Well.” He murmured, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “She is like before.”

  Suryel’s gaze snagged on him and held.

  Her head tilted, expression sharpening as if reaching for something just out of reach.

  Yael followed her line of sight and stood as she approached.

  “Suryel.” He said gently, hope threading his voice. “Do you remember Azriel?”

  This was the first time the eldest brother met the youngest sister awake.

  “Azriel…” She muttered, eyes never leaving him. “I remember the name.”

  Recognition flickered, gold threading through the miasma as memory scraped against restraint.

  “Wait… I do remember.” She said, pointing sharply.

  Helel straightened fast where he sat.

  Face moving out of Raphael’s hand. “Hold on, Sunbird, don’t—”

  Too late.

  Suryel surged forward.

  Shadow threaded with gold rose at her feet, coiling upward as she reached.

  Azriel’s brows lifted a fraction.

  Then he flipped backward, boots touching down lightly at a safe distance, hands raised.

  The training ground went dead quiet.

  Michael lifted a hand, halting the rushing Sentinels mid-step.

  “Helel said we’d hold you over a grill for answers if we had to!” Suryel shouted, voice cracking.

  Every head within a mile’s radius turned.

  Helel lifted his hands like caught in a spotlight. “It was hypothetical!”

  Yael caught her arm. “Suryel,” He asked urgently. “What do you mean?”

  Her voice wavered. “I… okay, maybe I misunderstood.” Her breath hitched. “But why did he lock my memories? I remember the day. And… you were there too.”

  Then she tore free and ran.

  “Suryel!” Helel called mid-run.

  “Wait!” Yael said, moving.

  Michael caught them both by the arm. “No.” He said flatly. “We need to talk.”

  He saw that Raphael was already following her.

  He found her in the Lapis Lazuli corridor, knees drawn up, wards pulsing soft and blue. He sat beside her, taking her wrist, steadying her breath.

  “I’m sure you must still be confused.” He said quietly. “Do you remember when Yael found you?”

  “There were three of us.” He continued, sitting beside her, not touching. “Yael. Azriel. And… me.”

  “Why…” She asked hoarsely, leaning to his side. “Did you have to hide my memories?”

  Raphael rested a hand against her back as she cried.

  “First.” He said gently, “Gather yourself.”

  He looked toward the training ground.

  “I think…” He added softly.

  “It’s time you and Helel got your answers.”

  Author’s Note:

  Theory, Azriel had been busy assisting the souls that gathered in the In-Between Realm during Covid. LOL.