The bracelet vibrated no more. I returned to that ledge the next day, and the day after that. I sat for hours, lashed by the freezing wind of the Galgard Peaks, waiting for something I didn't even understand myself. I hadn't felt that strange sensation the bracelet gave me that evening again, that tingling... It was strange. If I looked closely at the bracelet, there were runes engraved on it. I needed to better understand what they were for. I had never read anything about runes. Only Szilard knew why he had given it to me or what its purpose was. But for now, I decided not to focus on it anymore.
The days flowed by as always, and Theo no longer came to Kael's stables in the evenings. Beyond this, there was something I didn't understand. A doubt had taken root in my head over the past week, stronger than any other. And it was something that concerned me specifically: why did I feel so strange? Could it be a sign that the voice was returning? No, it was something else, more physical. I knew I had no mana, but unlike the others, only I remained consistently behind. It was like a curse. The others without mana, despite the difficulties, managed to progress, even if slowly. I didn't. And two years had already passed since I first started in there. Perhaps the problem, at its core, was truly me.
Could I ask Zoltan, perhaps, to help me? It wasn't a good idea, but it was the only thing that came to mind. By now, to him, I had become something akin to watching clowns at a circus. I pissed him off more often than not.
That evening, after training, I spoke with Kael. I was back in the "Belly" of the stable, the storage area. In front of me was the usual mountain of sacks of Black Molasses (a substance created by Kael to feed the horses). Each weighed as much as a grown man. I grabbed the first sack. Usually, at this moment, his croaking voice would hit me like a whip: "Lower that ass, idiot!", "You're breathing like a pig!", "Back straight or you'll snap!".
I waited. Silence. Kael was there, sitting on his stool, intent on polishing a silver bit. He looked at me, but said nothing. I approached him. The old man continued polishing the metal, but I saw the corner of his mouth curve slightly upward. He didn't insult me, and that was strange; we usually spend the evening like that.
"Usually you're grumpy and always scolding me." The old man stopped. He finally looked up. I saw a sort of... evaluation. "Did it take you all this time to notice?" he muttered. "You're sharp, but slow, boy. Very slow." "Why?" I asked, taking a step forward. Kael blew on the metal, rubbing it vigorously. "I don't waste breath if the mule learns to walk straight. That would be crazy."
I didn't understand what he meant. I've always been a bit slow on the uptake. He turned, laughing, and took an apple resting on a wooden post. I don't know what I expected, or what I wanted to hear; perhaps I was just frustrated, plain and simple. "No, you are crazy, old man," I said. I turned and grabbed the last sack so I could leave. He probably didn't expect that answer from me. Normally, I almost never talk back.
"How the fuc—... Hold it right there." Kael's voice stopped me halfway up the ladder. I turned toward him. He was staring at me strangely but with an enigmatic smile. "Here we go, let's start. Did I arch my back? Did I go too slow?" I said, smiling.
Kael didn't answer immediately. He took a slow bite of the apple, chewing noisily, without taking his eyes off me. "No," he grunted with his mouth full. "That is precisely the point, boy. Tonight, you are different." I furrowed my brow, confused. "Different? I'm dead tired, as always." "Shut up and listen," he interrupted, pointing the apple core at me. "Listen to the silence." In the stable, I heard him chewing with his mouth open, the horses, and the rustle of the wind outside. "So?"
"Two years ago," Kael said, "at most you dragged ten sacks of this stuff, throwing yourself on the ground like a worm. Now instead?" He made a vague gesture toward me. "You lift them without problems, not even out of breath. You went up with a constant rhythm. Thump, thump, thump." "I don't understand where you're going with this." He was pissed, I could tell, but he seemed to want to tell me something important. He threw the apple core at me, hitting me square in the chest. "You're stupid—no, an idiot, boy!" he shouted. "What have I had you doing these past two years?"
I looked at my hands. They were full of calluses, dirty with grease, but... steady. I tried to take a deep breath. The air entered fluidly, filling my diaphragm, without burning my throat. Kael approached and, without warning, gave me a sharp whack on the abs with the broom handle. "Oof!" I contracted my muscles by reflex. The blow bounced off without hurting me. "See?" the old man chuckled, satisfied. "Hard. You learned to breathe with your belly. You learned to discharge weight into the ground instead of holding it on your shoulders. You are no longer fighting against the sack. You are carrying it."
I remained speechless. For two years I had thought of this only as a way to work, and to earn something like books. A memory of the first time with Theo came to mind, saying: "Solution for muscles found, good right?". Then I began to understand. I hadn't realized that those insults were corrections. That that slave labor was... How did I not notice before? I was so busy pitying myself that it made me blind.
"You..." I murmured, looking at him with different eyes. "You trained me. All this time." Kael spat an apple seed on the ground, returning to his usual self. "I just exploited you, so you could keep cleaning my horses' shit. Don't let it go to your head," he laughed. But by now the veil had fallen. Why had he been so "available" for me all this time? He always helped me even though I am no one to him. Perhaps it is just proof of how hard I worked. And it is also a relief to think so.
I descended the last steps, standing in front of him. "If you know how to teach—" Kael sighed, interrupting me, rolling his eyes. "Here he goes again." "No wait, two years ago you told me about Zoltan, you said his strength was 'built.' That he had paid a price. You know how he did it. You know what I must do," I said.
The joking air vanished from his face, replaced by a sharp seriousness. "Zoltan..." he shook his head. "Until you show him what you are made of, you will be an ant in his eyes." I hadn't spoken to him about Zoltan since then. I just thought it was impossible for me now. "Just tell me how to talk to him." Kael stared at me for a long moment, scratching his bristly beard. Finally, he gave a resigned nod toward the exit. "At dawn," he murmured. "Maybe, and I say maybe, someone saw him at the training field before the bell... training."
I approached. "Thank you, Kael. Thank you, truly." "If you go there, don't ask him for favors, Princess. Don't ask him 'please.' Zoltan respects only those who have the balls to stand before him." He gave me a shove toward the door. "Now go. It's late."
I returned to my shack satisfied. Perhaps working so hard had truly served a purpose. Zoltan doesn't tell us how, he shows us and then wants us to replicate without a proper explanation. It was exhausting not having learned anything in all that time. At least for me, obviously. The night was cold, but I didn't feel the shivers. I felt only my breath, calm and deep, and the awareness that, for the first time, I was returning to walk a path, perhaps. I knew my goal was to search for clues about my mother, but it was set aside for something else; this didn't motivate me to grow up fast, also because I hadn't found anyone suitable yet to ask for information about her. Not to mention she herself told me "when you are ready." And in this place, I am just a nobody. With no one in whom to place my trust. Mother, wait for me. One day, when I am someone, we will meet again.
The next morning, from the Low Sector before dawn, I headed toward the training field to find Zoltan. The entrance was on the other side of the path. I heard lashes of wind created with perhaps a sword. "Not yet." A concrete confirmation, it was Zoltan on the other side. I could recognize his voice anywhere. I approached with stealthy steps. Trying not to make noise. I didn't want to surprise him in his training and barge in there with a "hey I'm Luthian and I want you to train me." He would kick my ass at minimum. I'm sure of it. But I didn't know how to introduce myself, maybe I just needed the right moment.
"Rabbits usually run, they don't hide."
How did he hear me? I had been careful in everything, but he managed to hear me anyway. I was even quite far from him. I headed toward the entrance, feeling like a fish hooked on a line. I certainly hadn't made a good impression. "Captain, well..."
I came out into the open. Zoltan was there in front of me. He didn't even turn around; instead, he resumed rhythmically making the same movement from top to bottom. Every slash created a sound that seemed to cut the air. Maybe it was simple fear, maybe not, but I felt a pressure facing him that I had never felt before. Almost the same I had felt from my father that day... But somehow it was, I don't know, different.
"You're early. Maybe you aren't a rabbit. Training hasn't started yet."
I took a deep breath. In that moment I was scared and this wasn't good. It blocked my words like a knot in my throat. It was different from when he usually screamed or bellowed in the morning demanding attention. Would he reject me? Maybe not, but the mere request I wanted to make was madness. I had never seen anyone in two years ask him for anything, at least in front of me.
"I-I'm not here for that now... I'm here to make a request!" I shouted with all the breath in my throat as I bowed to him.
Zoltan stopped. He turned slowly, towering over me with his imposing bulk. "Huh?" Zoltan's tone of voice changed. I had never heard him with this tone; I wasn't used to it. "A request? You're the first with the balls to come ask me something." For a moment, while I was still bowed down, I peeked at him. I saw a sneer that made me shudder.
I clenched my fists tight at my sides. It's do or die. It was my only chance. "Teach me to become strong. Truly strong. I don't want to just run or do push-ups. I want to learn to fight." There, I did it, I thought satisfied.
"Fight? You?" He took a step toward me, his body's shadow covering me completely. "You have no mana, boy. At best you could support a knight or maybe at most be a simple guard. What I have you do is more than sufficient, for you."
But no, it wasn't sufficient. I had no noble goals but I didn't want to always be the fifth wheel. I clenched my fists even tighter. "There must be another way," I insisted, looking up so as not to yield to fear.
Zoltan chuckled. A dry sound, devoid of mirth. "There aren't any. Now get out!"
My eyes widened, looking at the ground. I hadn't arrived there with a goal nor for a confirmation. I knew deep down he wouldn't accept but perhaps I hoped for something. How could he tell me such a thing? Yet I remembered Kael's words. There was something escaping me. I didn't want to continue being useless. Not like this, without hope. Why tell me to leave? Maybe he was testing me. But nothing came to mind. What can I say to him? I started to sweat cold and tremble.
"Huh? So you're still here." He lowered himself to my level, his face inches from mine. The air around him became heavy, almost suffocating. I felt something change in him. He had used mana, I'm sure, but to do what? I felt like I was about to faint, I saw the shadow of his hand getting closer and closer to me. What was that pressure? Why was I suffocating? Then I remembered suddenly. I read it in a book some time ago, where it explained the specialties of various regions. The "Mantle."
Mantle. That word, upon thinking it, came out naturally for me to pronounce. I don't know why I said it. "Mantle," slipped out in a whisper. But it was audible. It was his Pressure, his invisible "Mantle."
He stopped abruptly. He began to laugh loudly. "Tell me, Luthian. Why do you want to become strong?" It was the first time he spoke my name. I felt the air slowly becoming less dense. I opened my mouth to answer, but couldn't find the words. Why? Because I wanted to stop being pathetic? Because I hated Theo's pity? For revenge against my family?
"I-I know I don't have a noble goal... nor a grandiose purpose," I stammered, my voice trembling. "I don't want to be a hero, I just want... to not be last anymore."
"Not good enough." Zoltan shook his head and stood up. The interest in his eyes had vanished. "Wrong answer. The fear of being last won't keep you alive when you have a blade pointed at you. Come back to me when you have a real answer. Until then, keep running."
I remained there, in the middle of the empty courtyard, feeling even smaller than before. But he hadn't kicked me out; perhaps somehow I could find the answer. But it was still too early probably. I understood I had to find a purpose but I didn't know how.
That morning Zoltan didn't speak a word to me again except to call me out on exercises I was doing wrong. Everything proceeded regularly, and when evening arrived, as always after training I went to Kael. I found him grooming a horse. As soon as he saw me, he understood something was wrong. "Long face, huh? Zoltan chewed you up and spit you out?"
"I need more," I said dryly, ignoring the joke. I had reflected on it along the path to reach him. "History books aren't enough anymore. I need something on technique. Training manuals, treatises on anatomy, anything that explains combat or techniques." Kael wiped his hands on his greasy clothes and looked at me seriously. "Hey, easy with the requests, Princess. History books are scrap paper that others throw away or that sit on shelves gathering dust; no one notices those. Technique and combat manuals... those are kept in glass cases or on shelves that are always tended to. They are worth many gold coins."
"You said you could find anything." Kael scratched his head hard, huffing. "Ah! I take back what I said." "That woman would deny me th—" "Oof!" He started coughing a few times. "Getting back to us, it's not that I can't. But it takes time." He scratched his bristly beard.
I had sensed he was hiding something from me. But I gave it no weight. I wouldn't care if he worked for someone. Who takes the trouble to help a stranger just met? From the very beginning his behavior seemed strange, but for now it was fine like this. I helped him and was paid for what I did. Nothing else interested me; I already had too many problems. It was a mutual and warm give and take. I nodded, satisfied. At least as soon as I could have the book I could start doing something more than doing simple exercises or running. I had to be patient. But the wait was somehow gratifying.
But fate, apparently, had no patience. Two days later, Zoltan summoned all the recruits to the center of the training field. Beside him were two figures I had never seen before. "Open your ears!" the Captain's voice thundered. "From tomorrow, things change. I decided to accelerate given the current times. I present to you Masters Garek and Vyla."
Accelerate the times for what exactly? Undoubtedly those words betrayed a doubt about the general situation. Was there some problem lately? Maybe he could tell us something more.
He pointed to the man on his left, tall and slender. "Garek, an Earth King rank mage, will instruct you on Defensive Swift Spells. I have already prepared the groups." Then he pointed to the woman on his right, a massive warrior with a hood covering her face completely. "Vyla, Queen of the Sword, will handle Intermediate Sword Techniques for you."
An excited murmur ran through the ranks of the boys. Theo, not far from me, had eyes that shone. I remained motionless; perhaps I had understood something others were overlooking. Was it me who changed the cards on the table in training? No, there is something else that goes beyond any logic, at least here. In two years no one had ever heard of swift spells nor advanced sword techniques and yet it seemed not to matter. I felt strange, perhaps thinking too much.
"These two will be my substitutes when I am engaged elsewhere," Zoltan continued. "Tomorrow at dawn you will depart for a Field Exercise." Silence fell instantly. "It won't be a game," Zoltan said, and his tone turned icy. "You will be divided into teams. You must reach the Glamler Woods, retrieve an objective, and return. And I warn you: out there, there will be no one to cover your ass. If you get hurt, if you get lost... or if you die, it will be your fault alone."
Zoltan pulled out a sheet of paper. "Group One..." He read the first names. Then he arrived at Group Two. "...Ghild, Milla, Sorin... Theo." He paused. His eyes sought mine in the crowd with an unfriendly smile. "...and Luthian."
My heart skipped a beat. I turned toward Theo. He was looking at me, as surprised as I was, but on his face that shy and hopeful smile was already being born. I averted my gaze immediately, staring at the ground. Zoltan had put me on a team with him. I knew it wasn't an accident. It was a test. Not just physical, but mental. I had to survive the woods... and handle the situation with Theo.