The morning sun stretched over the forest, painting the clearing in soft gold. Gradix stood there, her little arms trembling as she gripped a wooden axe that looked almost too heavy for her. She swung it with pure conviction, each thud loud, uneven, but full of heart.

  "Again!" she shouted, sweat flying from her fur. "One day they'll have to let me fight!"

  From behind her came a familiar, amused voice. "Fight what, little cub? The stump?"

  

  

  Gradix turned to see Grixie arms crossed, smile calm and knowing.

  "Mama Grixie!" Gradix called proudly. "I'm training to fight in the war! If Braxill's going, I wanna go too!"

  

  

  Grixie stepped closer, her heavy steps soft in the grass. "You've been swinging that thing since dawn, haven't you?"

  Gradix puffed her chest. "Since before dawn! I'm getting stronger every swing!"

  Grixie smiled, kneeling down to her height. "You have the heart of a fighter, but you'll be staying in the village, my cub."

  Gradix blinked, tail flicking nervously. "What? Why?"

  "Because you're still young," Grixie said gently. "And someone must protect what's left here."

  Gradix's ears flattened. "Will Braxill fight?"

  Grixie hesitated before answering, "...Maybe, that's up to Grax."

  The words stung like splinters. Gradix looked down, tightening her grip on the axe. "Then I'll fight too so he won't be alone."

  

  

  Grixie sighed, her smile turning faint but warm, removed the ax from her side strap. "Then show me how strong you are."

  

  

  Gradix took a deep breath, yelled something heroic-sounding, and ran forward, swinging her axe with all her might. The axe made it halfway before Grixie caught it easily with one hand.

  "Put me down, mama bear!" Gradix shouted, dangling from the handle as Grixie effortlessly lifted both the axe and her.

  Grixie chuckled and set her down gently. "Patience, my daughter. In time, you'll grow as strong as Gravixor and Grax."

  Gradix folded her arms, mumbling, "I don't wanna wait that long..."

  Grixie brushed her paw through her hair, smiling. "Then don't wait. Train. But don't rush the sun, it rises on its own."

  Gradix huffed but nodded quietly.

  Grixie laughed and walked off, leaving Gradix to her training.

  The afternoon hummed with wind and cicadas. Gradix was still there, swinging the axe slower now, her arms sore but her spirit unbroken.

  "Still fighting the stump?" a familiar voice asked.

  Gradix turned, smiling when she saw Braxill leaning against a tree, cape brushing the grass.

  "Braxill! I'm training! I'm gonna join you in the war!"

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  He raised an eyebrow, half amused, half impressed. "You've been at it all day?"

  Gradix nodded proudly. "Mama Grixie said I'm not ready. But she's wrong. I just need more practice!"

  Braxill walked over, hands in his pockets, glancing at her battered stump target. "You've got more drive than me." He took the axe from her hands, testing its balance. "I'm decent with this, but close combat's not really my thing."

  

  

  Gradix tilted her head. "You can use an axe?"

  He shrugged. "Yep. But I still prefer my imagination to do the fighting for me."

  Gradix smiled. "Then I'll Master the Ax so I can be our strength."

  He grinned. "Then we'll start with strength."

  He crouched beside her, showing her how to hold the axe properly. "Here, your grip's too high. Slide down. There. Better."

  Gradix tried swinging. The impact was louder this time, cleaner.

  "Good," Braxill said. "But you need to know how to defend yourself, too. I know someone who can show you that part better than I can."

  Gradix blinked. "Who?"

  Braxill's eyes glowed faintly green. A shimmer formed in the air before them, not dramatic, just a natural hum, like imagination made visible. A holographic screen blinked to life, and Levy's blond hair and too-confident smirk appeared immediately.

  "Ah, there he is," Braxill said, gesturing toward the screen. "Say hello to my friend Levy the Artimancer... and the most indoctrinated royal talking point in Dear Point."

  Levy blinked, halfway through a sentence, his pride tripping over the insult. "Wait, what did you just—?!"

  

  

  Gradix gasped. "He looks mean?"

  Braxill "Great observation Gradix."

  Levy frowned. "Excuse me? I'm Levy, Royal-Class Artimancer, tactical commander, and—"

  Braxill cut in. " very humble, too."

  Levy sighed. "What do you want, Braxill?"

  "I need your help teaching gradix combat basics."

  Levy squinted at her. "The fuzzy one?"

  Gradix puffed her chest. "The strong fuzzy one."

  Levy smirked. "We'll see.

  Minutes later training was underway

  Levy "Feet apart. Hands up. Show me a punch."

  Gradix nodded, taking position. She inhaled dramatically... and swung her fist like she was swatting an invisible bee.

  Levy blinked. "...Was that an attack or a dance move?"

  Gradix frowned. "That was my punch!"

  "Punch what, the air's feelings?!" Levy barked. "You've got to twist your hips! Anchor your heel! Like this!" He mimed the perfect form through the hologram, his movements smooth and sharp.

  Gradix tried again. This time her punch ended in a spin that almost knocked her off balance.

  Levy slapped his forehead and shouted. "Oh Joy, help me. Even an ant knows combat form."

  

  

  "Stop yelling at her," Braxill said, half amused, half serious. "She's a beginner."

  Levy crossed his arms, glaring. "And you're too soft."

  Braxill shrugged. "Everybody's not you Levy, some people need more time then others."

  Levy groaned, rubbing his temples. "I'm going to develop wrinkles. Fine. Do whatever you want. Just don't call me next time." The hologram blinked out.

  Gradix stood there, cheeks puffed, glaring at the empty space. "He's such a meany."

  

  

  Braxill brushed it off, picking up the wooden axe and offering it back. "It's alright, he'll call again, come on, try again. But this time, breathe before you swing."

  Gradix smiled faintly and took her stance again. She exhaled, lifted the axe, and brought it down clean. The sound echoed strong and solid.

  Braxill nodded. "That's better."

  Gradix leaned on the handle, panting. "Braxill... how will you fight in the war?"

  He pointed to his temple. "Imagination."

  Gradix "I've never seen you use your pwoer in battle, is it really that strong."

  Braxill nods "The power of Joy."

  

  

  She smiled softly, tail curling behind her. "Then I'll train till my strength can protect your imagination."

  

  

  He looked at her for a moment, warmth flickering in his eyes. "Then I guess I'll have to make sure it's worth protecting."

  The forest wind carried their laughter through the trees. Gradix raised her axe again, her swings slower but full of new rhythm. She wasn't just hitting wood anymore, she was carving her promise into the air.