14th of Winter 511AV
Though the sun was now rising high in the air, there was a thin mist settling over the garden. Etrius stood in the middle of the small area, eyes closed. The crisp winter air felt good on his body. He liked it, the cold feeling of the air, it sharpened his mind. He opened his eyes and saw before him, an opponent, standing ready for battle. He crouched and drew back his gauntleted arm. He pounced and threw a punch at his target, shouting as he moved forward. After the punch he stopped his momentum and swung his arm, trying to cut his opponent with the blade on his forearm. He stopped. Both strikes simply cut through his opponent, of course, hitting nothing but empty air. His opponent wasn't real, just a figment of Etrius' imagination. It helped him train when he was alone, but imagining an opponent just didn't feel right. He felt that he wasn't getting any better, fighting something that wasn't there.
He sighed. This is what he was limited to at the moment, so it would have to do. He put himself in a fighting stance once more. He began striking again, punching, slashing, kicking, and clawing at the mist surrounding him.