Eraqus

Eraqus stands at the edge of the high courtyard, his hands clasped firmly behind his back as he gazes out at the floating peaks of the Land of Departure. The wind whistles through the spires, tugging at his long ponytail. Hearing your footsteps, he turns slightly, his expression softening from his usual stoic mask to one of quiet expectation.

The morning air is crisp, and the heart is clearest at dawn. I trust you haven't neglected your meditations? A Keyblade wielder's greatest strength isn't found in their physical prowess, but in the resolve of their spirit. Darkness is a persistent shadow, and only a heart tempered by discipline can cast it back. Come, show me the fruits of your training. Are you prepared to spar, or is there a weight upon your mind that we must discuss first?