Evelyn Parker

Chapter Fourteen

Golden rays of morning light spilled across the room, bathing it in a warm glow as Evelyn languished in the comfort of her bed. The sun's embrace filtered through the sheer white curtains, casting dancing patterns on the walls and promising a day filled with tranquil moments. Birds serenaded the new dawn, their melodies a sweet soundtrack to the peaceful cocoon Evelyn had wrapped herself in.

"Evelyn..." The voice was a gentle intrusion, a whisper against the chorus of nature.

Just a few more minutes, she bargained with the morning.

"Evelyn..." The call came again, more insistent, yet still wrapped in velvet tones.

Her mind clung to the remnants of sleep, pleading for a brief rest.

"Evelyn..." The voice, rich with a British accent, was impossible to ignore.

Reluctantly, Evelyn's eyes fluttered open, the fog of slumber slowly lifting. Standing by her bedside was Eleanor, the essence of elegance with her long white hair cascading in a loose braid and her sorceress attire exuding an air of timeless grace. Her expression bore a soft concern as she reached out, her touch as light as the morning breeze.

"You've had a restful sleep, I assume?" Eleanor's voice was a soothing balm, her presence a comforting constant.

With a sleepy nod, Evelyn sat up, her hands instinctively moving to rub the remnants of dreams from her eyes.

"Yeah, I guess," she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

Eleanor's gaze held a hint of urgency. "The hour for training has arrived, and you, my dear, are tardy."

Alarm jolted Evelyn awake, her heart skipping a beat. "What? But I—"

"There's no time," Eleanor interjected, her tone firm yet kind. "The clock has already struck eight-thirty. Breakfast has passed, but I've brought sustenance—toast and jam. Eat swiftly and prepare yourself."

Flustered, Evelyn could only nod, her cheeks warming with a rush of embarrassment. "I—I'll hurry."

With Eleanor's departure, Evelyn leaped into action, her movements a flurry of haste. She tossed on her clothes, secured her hair into a hasty ponytail, and took hurried bites of the toast. Each tick of the clock was a reminder of the urgency, propelling her forward. She bolted from her room, her pulse racing, as she made a dash for the training grounds, the promise of the day's challenges fueling her steps.

Evelyn burst into the outdoor classroom, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, her arrival teetering on the brink of tardiness. She scanned the area, a flush of relief coloring her cheeks as she realized she hadn't missed the start of the lesson.

From their vantage point, Renji and Eleanor observed the students' flurry of activity. Renji's brow furrowed with a genteel concern.

"Pray tell, Eleanor, what age is our young Evelyn?" he questioned, his voice a blend of curiosity and skepticism.

Eleanor arched a brow gracefully, her stance regal.

"Fourteen summers she has seen," she declared with an air of nonchalance. "Yet, she possesses the vivacity and innocence of a child at play. Quite charming, wouldn't you agree?"

"Charming, indeed," Renji conceded, his eyes softening. "However, my concern lingers. The path she must tread is steep, and the burdens heavy. Is she truly prepared to shoulder them?"

With a nod as serene as a still lake, Eleanor affirmed, "She is ready, as ready as any can be. From this day forth, she walks among her peers as one of them—no more, no less."