She had deep indigo eyes.

Pale as the moon and frail… Every time he spotted her in the training yard, he wondered how she made it through the first trial at all. Maybe Sir Arthur saw something in her and made an exception?

Meta often arrived at the yard just as she was finishing her training. She'd leave discouraged and exhausted, not even noticing him half the time and giving a half-hearted greeting the other half. Her presence was like a ghost, there but not truly seen, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her.

This time, he arrived at the same time as she did. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden hue over the training yard. She stood at the entrance, her small frame dwarfed by the large wooden gates. She looked as though she hadn't slept, carrying dark circles beneath her eyes.

Meta hesitated for a moment, watching her. She seemed lost in thought, staring at the practice dummies with a mixture of determination and dread. He took a deep breath and approached her, his boots crunching softly on the gravel.

She dropped a heavy bag beside her, filled with supplies and half secured. Meta cleared his throat so she would hear his approach.

"Good morning," he said, trying to sound as friendly as possible.

She jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, turning to face him. Her expression was guarded, but there was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. "Oh… good morning," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Meta offered a small smile, hoping to put her at ease. "Sorry to startle you. I'm Meta, another squire. I've seen you training here often."

She nodded, returning her attention to the dummy ahead of her. She took the basic sword off of her hip, bracing it in her hands. "I'm not very good at it… I'm Velka."

Her name… I'm almost surprised I recalled it at all. I can barely recall my own name before I was Knighted.

Meta frowned slightly, sensing the depth of her self-doubt even through the mask she put up. He stepped aside, giving her room to practice. "Everyone starts somewhere. It's about perseverance, not just skill."

Velka looked up at him, her indigo eyes searching his for any sign of insincerity. Finding none, she gave a hesitant nod. "So I keep hearing. I'm doing everything I'm told but it never seems to work."

"Do you want to train together today?" he offered. "Maybe we can help each other improve."

She seemed taken aback by his suggestion, a mixture of surprise and suspicion flashing across her face. "You'd want to— ? But I don't think I'd be able to teach you anything?"

Meta shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Why not? We're all here to become Star Warriors, aren't we? I would like to help either way."

For the first time Meta had seen, a small smile tugged at the corners of Velka's lips. "Alright then. Let's give it a try."

After that… It's a blur of countless days where we were at the yard sparring and practicing various techniques. It's hard to make out many details.

Meta noticed that while Velka's movements were often hesitant and lacked confidence, she had a natural grace and agility that could be honed with practice. He offered gentle corrections and encouragement, doing his best to boost her morale.

Beyond that, I can't grasp anything else there, I have to leave the training yard.

Through their training they had began to talk more. Despite her frail appearance and the doubts of those around her, Velka was determined to become a Star Warrior. She spoke of Sir Arthur with the fervor of someone meeting their greatest hero. He who had seen potential in her and had given her the chance to prove herself.

"I want to prove that I can do it," she said quietly during a break. "I want to prove that I can be a Star Warrior too. But sometimes, I wonder if I'll ever be good enough."

Meta placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "The most important part is your passion. The rest will come with time and effort."

"It's just difficult. I feel like I'm somehow incapable of grasping what they teach us. No matter what, it just… it rolls off me," she shook her head and dropped it in her hands. Meta frowned, folding his hands on the table and flickering his eyes between her and her standard sword.

"We'll find out what works for you…"

"Eventually… Well, what about you? Why did you want to be a Star Warrior?" Velka asked, moving the topic away from her for her comfort. Meta straightened his back and looked ahead with a stern and determined expression.

"I want to face the strongest Knight in the galaxy," he nodded sharply.

Velka's eyes were wide, blinking in surprise at him. "You want to fight Sir Arthur?"

"No, no. Sir Arthur leads the Star Warriors, but he's not the strongest. That title belongs to a Knight from a long time ago. Back when there were still Ancients," Meta's tone was hushed, as if letting her in on a secret. He leaned in to keep their conversation covert. "He was called Galacta Knight."

"Ooh…" Velka whispered in awe.

"I believe I'll beat him one day… I believe we both will achieve our goals," Meta said with conviction, his optimism infectious. A smile gradually grew on her face and she brightened, the determination to succeed blooming inside her.

She was always trying so hard. Where did it change? Why did she take this route?

For a while, they were inseparable, finding comfort and strength in each other's presence. They worked together on tasks and training, even taking some of their courses together when they had the chance. Meta was far more advanced than she was, but he was willing to hang back to help her.

However, as time passed, Meta's focus grew sharper and more intense. His ambition to become the best drove him to train harder and longer, often losing track of time and everything around him. He became consumed by his desire to surpass even the greatest warriors of the past, and his relentless pursuit of perfection began to take its toll on their friendship.

Meta spent hours every day perfecting his techniques, losing sight of anything that wasn't in favor of his goal. Before this moment, he hadn't known how he could ever face Galacta Knight. He was content just being named the next strongest through his efforts.

That was until he learned of something grand. A place that was known to grant wishes and make dreams come true. A planet called Popstar. His goal became something far more tangible now and gradual achievement wouldn't cut it. He needed to push and progress more and more every day.

Velka joined him every morning, it had become their routine by now. Bt She was left there without warning whenever Meta finished with his work. She struggled to keep up and match his pace, pushing herself far beyond her limits. But no matter how hard she tried, Meta was far ahead of her. Lost in his own world of tunnel vision self improvement.

There was a point that Meta lost track of her entirely. Traversing the memories, he found little else of her. A pleading look, a practice sword clutched in hand. Increasing amounts of bruises and cuts.

A voice cut through his session, pulling him from his focus. He grumbled softly and lowered his weapon, turning to find Velka at the edge of the yard. She appeared in awe, though there was a wrinkle of concern in her brow.

"You've been training for hours. Don't you think it's time to take a break?" her voice was tinged with concern and desperation.

"No. I need to get this right," he said, turning his back to her gripping his weapon in both hands.

He hadn't been so short with her before. But he had no time to dally. His training continued alone. Days turning into weeks. Meta's obsession with improving only grew. Velka's only companion in the program moved on without another word to her.

Without another word? No, there has to be something, I wouldn't have left it there, would I?

Meta struggled to think. He could only find one more instance of interaction between them. He was leaving the yard, where else would he be? And as he left he was carrying an armful of broken practice swords.

"Meta," a soft voice chimed as he passed. "Can we talk?"

He paused, finally turning to face her after so long. Though once he could disconnect from his tasks and relax, he was too distracted for warmth and companionship. He looked at her with a distant, determined fire.

"What is it?"

Velka hesitated, scanning his face for a moment. "I… I heard you were going to be in the next Knighting ceremony."

Meta nodded. He continued past her, taking the broken pieces somewhere to be tossed. "I will be. I can't get any better without a real battle. I've learned everything I could here."

"Well… I admire all the progress you've made. I wanted to ask if you would… If you'd train with me one last time? Before you left?" Velka said. She didn't appear very prepared. Meta didn't give it any thought at the time, but now he was sure that she simply wanted to spend time with him after so long of being cast aside.

He dusted his hands off and looked aside. His expression softened for a moment, fighting with the determined fire that burned in his chest. "I really have to go."

Velka stammered, struggling to find the words to explain what she really wanted. "B– Meta, please. I–"

"I'm sorry, Velka. You'll get better eventually, you don't need me," he urged.

"H-How about you visit sometime? I want to see you after you become a Knight, hopefully I'll be one too? Please, just come back to visit. Once?" Velka begged, dropping her practice sword to clasp her hands together, stepping up to him. Her eyes started to sparkle with sorrow and desperation, tears threatening to slip.

"Alright… I'll try to return," he sighed. It was the last thing he said to her, leaving her at the yard in the fading twilight. She watched him as he left, he could feel her eyes on his back.

As soon as he was Knighted, a war broke out. Meta was swiftly set out to battle against Nightmare's forces for the first time. And not a thought of Velka ever crossed him again. He could make the excuse that he was young then and too ambitious for his own good. He could say the war changed so much at once… No matter the reason. He forgot her.