Morning came too quickly.
The pocket watch rested on the table beside my bed, its faint mana glow steady and patient, as if it were watching me in return. I had checked it once since waking—six bells—trying to convince myself that if I stared long enough, I would understand it. Soon enough, I would be able to read the time properly. Once I asked, at least.
Today was my first day of training outside the dungeon.
The thought settled in my chest heavier than I expected. In Eldraxis, strength had been simple: survive, adapt, grow stronger. Up here, strength came with rules, schedules, and expectations I was only beginning to grasp.
While I waited, I opened the grimoire—a book of spells people used to learn magic, if they were compatible. I couldn't fully read it yet, but based on the magic circles alone, I could tell there was at least one basic healing spell, two fire spells, and a few others. That alone was exciting. I placed the basics of magic book beside it. These were the two books I wanted to understand sooner rather than later. In the dungeon, I used mana instinctively to move objects. Spells from Eldraxis might not work the same way up here. And if I was being honest, I had never cast spells in earnest against my family anyway.
The shadows in the corner of the room shifted. Nyx would be here soon.
With that thought, I picked up the basic sword I had purchased yesterday from the blacksmith just as Nyx emerged from the darkness.
"Let's go to the training grounds," she said. "We'll start with exercises to warm up, then move into sparring. How does that sound?"
She looked genuinely excited. A smile tugged at my lips as I nodded.
"That sounds good, Nyx. Also… at breakfast, could you show me how to read the clock?" I admitted sheepishly. "I keep glancing at it only to realize I still can't tell time."
Tharion always told me that pretending to understand something was worse than admitting ignorance. A fool who asked questions could still learn. A fool who didn't never would.
And despite everything, speaking with Nyx felt easy. Familiar, even. Maybe it was because she was beast-kin. Maybe it was because she never treated me like I should already know things I clearly didn't.
"Yeah, of course I can do that during breakfast. It took me a while to understand time when I was younger as well."
Nyx gave me a nod, reassurance wrapped neatly within it.
We left my room and headed downstairs. After a few minutes, we reached the courtyard I had seen from the window of the receiving room where I first met Duke Caelren. It was far larger than I'd expected from above. The sun had yet to fully rise, so I knew it was still early. No one else was here.
The open space at the center was surrounded by a barrier. Nyx explained that it ensured spells and attacks wouldn't damage the guild hall itself. Just outside the barrier, before the guild hall corridors began, was a wide circular path meant for running. There were also training dummies placed around the grounds, mostly for those who preferred sword practice.
"First, we're going to run," Nyx said as she guided us to the edge of the barrier. "Don't worry I'll tell you when to stop."
We started running along the path, and no matter how much I pushed myself, she was always ahead of me. I wasn't used to this. I'd always trained alone, or with someone watching from behind. Running beside someone—someone I couldn't quite catch—felt strange. Even when I sped up, Nyx stayed just out of reach, her tail swaying as if it were deliberately taunting me.
This wasn't a competition.
…But it felt like one.
I didn't know how long we'd been running. My chest burned, my breath came sharp and shallow, and the sun had climbed higher into the sky. Still, my legs kept moving, chasing Nyx even as part of me wanted to collapse onto the stone.
"And time," Nyx said at last. "Good job keeping up. I honestly thought you'd stop sooner, you exceeded my expectations."
She smiled and handed me the towel we'd picked out specifically for training.
"Now let's head to the center. We'll do squats, push-ups, sit-ups, and one hundred sword swings before sparring."
I forgot there was more. I groaned inwardly but followed her anyway.
The squats, push-ups, and sit-ups were familiar enough, though I lost track of how many she had me do. Somewhere along the way, I began to suspect I'd made a dangerous mistake asking her for training.
Then came the sword swings.
Nyx demonstrated a basic strike, clean and efficient. "I only said one hundred in case you've never wielded a sword before," she explained. "Later on, I want you doing as many as you can in the evenings. Training whenever you're able isn't something that can be taught, and I'm glad you took the initiative to ask for help."
I couldn't stop the small grin that formed on my face. Praise, depending on who it came from, always felt good.
I watched her stance closely—feet planted wide, knees slightly bent, one hand gripping the sword. She'd already warned me that I'd be using two hands until the weight felt natural. My sword was heavy, but not too heavy, which the blacksmith had said was important. I made a mental note to ask him why the next time I saw him.
The blade felt foreign in my hands, but I lifted it anyway, swinging up over my head and back down again. Over and over. I focused on my footing, small steps forward and back, letting the movement sink in.
By the time my arms felt like useless slime, Nyx finally raised a hand.
"I'll give you a moment to rest before we start sparring."
I nodded, stretching as best I could and drawing in a long breath.
After what felt like only a few blinks, Nyx stood and walked toward the center of the barrier.
"You can use physical attacks first," she said. "When I give the signal, you can use your magic. I want to see how you move in a fight before I see what you do with mana."
That made sense to me. If I relied on magic from the start, it would defeat the purpose of all my physical training—especially if I ended the fight too quickly.
I stood and met her at the center. We were both unarmed.
Gold eyes met my crimson ones, and I moved first—aiming a strike at her face. But before my fist could land, I felt her presence behind me. I dropped low and spun, sweeping my leg out in an attempt to trip her, or at least distract her.
She hopped cleanly over my leg and kicked me backward toward the barrier.
We continued sparring, and I quickly realized just how difficult it was to land a hit on her. Not impossible—I managed to graze her a few times—but nothing I'd call a direct strike. She was fast, always one step ahead, her battle experience obvious in every movement. My own lack of it was just as clear.
"Alright," Nyx said at last, smiling. "You can start using your magic. Don't worry about hurting me—I've got healing potions."
Her tone was light, but her eyes were almost taunting, like she didn't believe I could actually hurt her.
I nodded and reached for my mana. The familiar warmth flowed through my body as I tried to shift her aside for a clean side kick—
Nothing.
It felt like trying to move a massive boulder.
What's wrong with my magic?
I switched tactics and cast a wind spell—Whirlwind. The vortex lifted Nyx into the air, but only barely, no more than five feet. If this were Eldraxis, she would've been thrown skyward.
Something was wrong. With my mana—or with this place.
We continued fighting until the sounds of movement echoed through the guild hall. Soon, others began filtering into the courtyard to train as well.
"Let's get some food, Syl," Nyx said with a smile.
I nodded—then froze.
Syl.
Was that… a term of endearment?
My face warmed slightly as I followed her to the food hall for breakfast. My plate held three fried eggs with runny yolks, buttered toast, four thick slices of bacon, and a glass of apple juice.
Nyx picked up my pocket watch and showed me the face. "The shorter hand marks the hours. The longer one is for minutes—each mark is five minutes."
She tapped the face lightly. "When the small hand points to a number, that's the hour. The big one just keeps moving."
"Your mana can translate the symbols into numbers," she added between bites. "Just picture one through twelve where the symbols are."
I held the watch and focused. A gentle pull of mana followed—and when I opened my eyes, the symbols had shifted into numbers.
9:40.
I committed it to memory.
"Thanks, Nyx," I said as I ate. The food was incredible. I wondered if I could ever learn to cook like this—I'd never really tried before.
"Want to hit the baths after this?" Nyx asked. "Staying in sweaty clothes makes you smell worse."
I nodded and gathered my supplies. I'd enjoyed the hot herbal bath the night before—it left my body feeling refreshed in a way I wasn't used to.
After washing with soap and a body brush, I washed my hair, let Nyx scrub my back, applied conditioner, and rinsed again. This time, we stepped into the large communal bath at the center of the room rather than the smaller side tubs.
As Nyx chatted with a few of the other women, I sent a focused telepathic message to Obsidryx.
My magic feels weaker up here. Do you know why?
His response came shortly after.
That is… unusual. It may be that your connection to the goddess is stronger within Eldraxis. Or perhaps the seal dampened the excess mana that seeps from the dungeon—it is the closest one to the city, after all. I will ask Tharion. This is unprecedented, but it may indeed be tied to the goddess.
It didn't make me feel better.
I couldn't ask openly about a goddess who had been deliberately erased from texts—and perhaps even from memory itself. That realization carried a deeper discomfort than I'd expected.