The next day Gareth awoke feeling, well...rested. Something he had not experienced in years. On Terra he had woken up with hunger, financial stress, and emotional overstimulation. In his time with Ian and the Doctor he had woken up hungry, in agony, and terrified of what they would do to him that day. For what felt like, and probably was, the first time in his life, Gareth woke up with an eagerness for the day, with an energy warming him from the inside, and with a urgent need to pee.
After sorting out his business, he found master Guanji in the kitchen, cooking up a breakfast of eggs with veggies and rice.
“What-up, Master.” He bowed deeply, and quietly put the kettle on to boil as Guanji had shown him after their chat.
“Good morning, disciple. How did you sleep?” He said and flipped the pan, the contents gracefully tossed about with not a single speck of food leaving the pan.
Gareth smiled wistfully, “I slept like a rock, and yourself?”
Guanji chuckled, “I have rested well, though I haven't needed to sleep for a few decades now. Sleep can be replaced with meditation after tier 5.”
Gareth raised a brow, “Damn, I don't think I actually want that. No more dreams? Always working? I think I'd rather still sleep.”
Guanji shrugged one shoulder, “We still need to sleep. Just less-often, but then for longer periods of time.”
“Hmm. On a different note; when can we do the next awakening?” Gareth could barely keep the excitement from his voice.
Guanji smirked knowingly and put the toast he was making on a plate, “Soon, but we must give your body time to acclimate to its new state. If you want to attempt surviving your next awakening, you must be rested.”
“How long will my body need to heal?” He asked as respectfully as possible.
“A few weeks. In that time we will train you in other professions. Swordsmanship and such. Now eat-up, there is a busy day ahead of you.”
Guanji placed the plate in front of him, heaped with yummy warm food!
“What have you got planned?” Gareth asked around a mouthful, only a few moments of comfortable silence later.
Guanji looked up from the jade tablet he was reading, “Firstly, you will visit Lord Margrave to debrief fully on your journey prior to being found by Ivor Hansen. Since you also need etiquette lessons, I thought it would be best if Lady Ellisandra instructed you every day for two hours. It could only better her own understanding of noble craft…it will also be a good time for you two to get to know one another.”
Gareth froze: Do they want to set her up with me?
In that moment Gareth briefly entertained the notion, she was a very attractive woman to be sure, but he wasn't ready yet. If he wanted to be a good partner then he had to sort out the monsters in his closet first, and he couldn't even find the key to lock them away yet.
-
Guanji sensed an aural disturbance within Gareth, but the young man did not seem interested in sharing. Our master-pupil relationship is still very much in its infancy, and I do not feel it is my place to pry…yet.
“After which you will have an introductory class on adventuring, for three hours. A one hour break to recenter yourself, i.e. a meditation break. You will then venture to the training arena for a broad introduction to weapons. This also for three hours. We will see how you fare after that, as you might need to rest your body.”
-
Gareth raised his brows, floored at everything he had to do since he hadn't had a full itinerary in years.
“Fuck yeah! Lets get to gettin'.”
He smiled sadly and pumped a fist in the air. He still struggled to dredge emotion from his hollow chest, but the only way to grow was to ‘fake it till you make it’. The warm food in his stomach certainly helped dredge up feelings of excitement.
He hurriedly finished eating then went to shower, brush his teeth, and got dressed in a nicely patterned blue version of those pants and shirts with the weird folds at the wrists and ankles. He luckily didn't need Guanji's help this time, but the folds weren't all that neat either.
When he got back to the kitchen he found Guanji still reading the paper, but this time had a large map spread out on the kitchen table.
“I'm ready!”
I bet this is what the posh kids felt like on their first day of school. Must be nice. – A stab of anger and jealousy surged through him, but he quickly reminded himself that it was his past.
It has no more power over me, I must live in the moment, appreciate the present. I’m gonna learn politics from a princes, scouts from a full-on adventurer, and fuckin' SWORDFIGHTING! YEAHAAHAH!
“Good.”
Guanji quickly and crisply stowed his jade slate before gesturing Gareth over to the map spread over the war-room table.
Yeha, guy has a war room. Sick as. – He looked around the spaciously appointed, tastefully decorated, appealingly feng shui’ed mahogany table, and stuffed mahogany high-backed chairs.
“This is a map of Volun city, and this is the city lord's estate,”
Guanji gestured toward a large, green, forested area with a little castle symbol to indicate lord Marvgrave’s manor. As he did, a stray strand of black hair fell into his eyes, and Guanji had to do a little head flick…
Damn, man must murder with the ladies.
“It is near the South-western gate, but is separated by a large body of water, evident by the blue colourations.”
Gareth also couldn't help but notice that Guanji's place wasn't on the map, which meant the map wasn't 100% accurate, but it was nevertheless enough to identify key places and landmarks.
“Why is there only one gate? Doesn't that make it hard to handle large populations?” He knew it was off topic but needed time to analyse the map.
“One would think… but not so. With Volun’s distance from any nearby settlement, people do not seem to mind going the extra few miles to travel the full distance around our city. Nor is trade regular enough to warrant the weakness a large gate would provide. There is only one gate because that is as much a weakness in our walls as we can allow.”
Gareth could easily identify each of the three sectors of the city as they were colour coded; The outer district was coloured a pale red, the farm area a forest green, and each temple was its own unique colour that related to each god. Finally, the grand area was coloured a pale yellow. It contained another oddity, there was a temple near the northeastern wall, far away from all the other temples.
Not wanting to linger too long on any one part, Gareth briefly noted both the Crystalline river that sectioned off the city, as well as the Volun city tree taking up a large part of the grand area.
“You will report to the steward at lord Margrave's estate. He will take you to see Lady Ellisandra. After which…”
He pointed at a castle building in the grand labelled ‘Adventurers Guild’. “You will report to the front desk of the Adventurers Guild and ask for Connor Grimsbane. He has been instructed not to ask any personal questions, and it would behoove you not to share your story.”
Gareth looked at Guanji with a cynical gleam in his eye.
Do they not want me to reveal myself, so as to disappear me more easily should things not work out? Or are they doing it because they want to protect me from Ian?
While he wasn't planning on sharing his story with anyone anyway, the fact that Guanji specified secrecy meant something.
“Once you are done, report to the training Arena.”
He pointed to a sky-blue coloured, massive circular area in the north of the city, summed up with a little dome icon and ‘Training Arena’,
“Where you must ask a guard to point you towards Reception. They will be able to point you in the direction of Oliver Wavestrider, annotate that name; he will be your weapon's instructor. Actually…before you start training with your weapons, ask for a meditation chamber for an hour. Use that time to reflect on what you have learned, while also giving your body and mind a rest. Oliver will instruct you on what to do after that.”
Gareth was reeling a bit from all the instructions but summed it up for both of them, “Talk to the steward and Lady Ellisandra, ask for Connor Grimsbane at the Guild desk, then go chill for an hour at the training yard after I find Oliver. Is that it?”
“I certainly hope you will not be ‘chilling’ for an hour…perhaps Oliver will instruct you on meditation practices as well. It is not merely lazing about, but an active process that must be cultivated…”Guanji gave him a hard look, but relented once he saw Gareth nod seriously. “Remember, cultivation is the pursuit of mastering oneself. These lessons are an opportunity for improvement. Furthermore, until we have pinpointed the identity of this Ian and Doctor, it would behoove you to avoid interacting with strangers. You never know who could be a spy, assassin, or informant. Keep your secrets close.”
Feeling his excitement plummet even further, Gareth just nodded somberly. He had nothing to say because Guanji was right, he had to be careful.
"Furthermore, we do not currently have any clergy stationed within the city, so I will enquire at The Maple Institute of Learning, to see whether they have a runic expert on hand to help identify the runes on your skin. Do not get your hopes up: Volun is a frontier city with a focus on alchemy, martial arts, and beast parts, not runes, but it does not hurt to try."
-
The meeting with Margrave was as short as it was uninteresting. Which was to say ‘very fuckin’ short.’
“I don’t know much about the place that I woke up. One moment I was dying from infection, the next I’m on a salt flat, wind stinging my open cuts. Apparently, I was close enough for the Doctor to track, because scouts caught up to me within the day. Then, as I was making my way towards a mountain in the distance, they suddenly came out of nowhere, salt and sand scattering from their sudden arrival.
Luckily they weren’t the brightest, cause I got them monologuing and managed to escape into this giant whirlwind, only to find out it's something called a Dust-devil. They chased me inside, it killed them, not sure why I wasn’t killed with them.”
“It is possible your mana signature was too weak for the beast to sense. They often have very accurate magical senses, but have no interest in low-mana food. They will ignore most low-tiered beasts and creatures. Also not actually a devil.” Margrave explained, with a small anecdote.
“Hmm, didn’t know that. Good thing for me though. Haha!”
He laughed hollowly at his own pathetic joke.
Gareth went on to explain that he promptly hurried the-fuck-up towards the mountain in the distance, scared that his enemies were actually in that direction, but having no other option.
“They found me again, this time when I was well into the mountain range. A slower group that I managed to lead into a very angry looking herd of these massive bucks with scarily sharp horns. They managed to distract the guys long enough for me to find the oasis, and the rest is history.”
-
“Gareth Elson to see you, my lady.” The portly chamberlain stepped through the door and gracefully bowed at the waist.
“Lady Ellisandra, it is a pleasure to see you again.” Gareth bowed as deeply as the chamberlain, following his lead.
“Gareth Elson, the pleasure is mine.” Her pale, delicate lips smiled kindly, a grin that was mirrored by the gentle crinkle of her silver eyes. She nodded to the chamberlain, “Thank you, Chamberlain Havoc.”
He took the dismissal in stride and quietly bowed out.
Ellisandra gestured a delicately gloved arm to a chair opposite her, “I sense you have gained your first bloodline, ‘the bloodline holds pure’.”
She intoned it as if said from some sort of scripture, but its meaning was lost to Gareth.
“This is the first time I’ve heard that expression,” Gareth said, “what does it mean for my bloodline to ‘hold pure’? Sounds a bit…uh.” He floundered for words, trying to say ‘supremacist’, but he didn't want to offend the Lady. Some corporations had very strict hiring demographics, and an active ad smear-campaign that actively pitted two demographics against one another.
Fortunately, she bailed him out, “While some view bloodline purity as ‘indicative of social superiority,’ I didn't mean it as such.”
She shrugged her muscular, athletic shoulders, hidden by a tightly hugging silver-grey dress. Her shoulders and bust, not that Gareth was staring, was modestly covered by a matte grey silk-like material – while from the waist down it fit her form more loosely in a glimmering silver, silk-like material.
He winced when he realised his faux pas, but she continued and forestalled his apology, “There is nothing to apologise for. In fact, I commend you for speaking up against supremacism, it is much too common these days.”
She looked beyond the wall of the glass greenhouse they were having tea in, through the falling rain, and through whatever else might have been there. She instead looked into the past. Briefly. Before shaking her head and continuing.
“The ‘bloodline holding pure’ refers to you surviving your level up, I do not sense the System’s influence on you, nor do I sense the god’s touch upon your soul. You are brave to have ascended outside of the System temple.”
“You can tell where I leveled up?! Hmph, if only I'd chosen to Awaken outside a temple. I didn't even know what I was busy doing until I was already done.”
She raised a brow, “You were not warned of what might happen?”
He gave a half shrug, “No harm done. It worked out well in the end. We spoke about it, and Master Guanji apologised, so we’re chilled.”
She furrowed her delicately trimmed brows, age lines seemingly impossible on her youthful pale skin.
“You are very forgiving.”
“Not at all. I just see no reason to remain sour about it. He welcomed me into his home, gave me a room and food: a kindness my own family did not afford me. For this reason alone, I will look past it, just this once. I did warn him, though, that I would not be so forgiving a second time.”
“I think this is wise. I admire your sense and capacity to forgive.” When she saw that her compliment had made him very uncomfortable, she jumped back on topic.
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
“My main path is Elemental core cultivation. I can send mana pulses through the air that inform me of certain pieces of information, such as your level.”
She winked, “Well-then, let us choose to prevent any misunderstandings before they arise.”
She smiled kindly before flicking her right hand. A large jade tablet fell into her, and she gently placed it on the table.
What followed were two educational hours in which he learned more about the Empire's history than its customs. Near the end of the session he brought up this point, but she quoted someone in a fond tone.
“‘To know a people's traditions, customs, and motivations; you must first know from whence they derive.’ I must first educate you on our history. For without it…you will be missing half the puzzle.”
She waved her hand and small sparks of light coalesced, creating blurry images of epic past events.
It first showed a valiantly golden man, standing over the corpse of a green figure, a sapling sprouting from his chest, “Two hundred years ago, the great adventurer, Volun Bulwark, gave his life to protect and strengthen the Empire. He allowed the city seed to consume his soul, and thus sprout, after a grievous injury defending against Darklings. Through his sacrifice, as with all city trees, it was able to take root. His valiant victory, followed by his selfless sacrifice, formed the basis of Volun's values. We fight to the last, not because we must, but because it is our honour to do so.”
She delicately took a sip of her tea and Gareth noticed the steadiness of her hand, the calloused palm, the scarred fingers that told of an entirely different character than her demure facade.
“The great adventurer, Callum Lichbane, was one of the extremely few adventurers to emerge from Shekaron's Labyrinth, and was named a ‘Labyrinth Champion’. To survive the Labyrinth one must possess extraordinary luck, power, determination, and inner strength, because Shekaron’s Labyrinth was made to test each aspect of a person, to the core. When Callum Lichbane first arrived, he made waves in the professional arena, but found the publicity to be too overwhelming after so long being alone. He subsequently retired to Volun under a pseudonym. He simply disappeared, and this mystery has vexed many of the nobles of Volun, for it gives Volun great political publicity. A hero powerful enough to return from the greatest Labyrinth on the world tree would hold considerable power, and considerable sway. Therefore, to challenge Volun might anger Callum Lichbane, and bring hardship on your noble family. Families therefore feel Volun is a safe haven, politically, to send their aspiring scions. They know the other families would be too scared to initiate an open conflict.”
Gareth understood, and as he left their session that day he wondered what might have happened to Callum. He also wondered if he could use Lichbane’s name in vain, if he came into a difficult sitch?
“Do you know one of the most important factors you should always remember out there in the wilds, Gareth Elson?” Connor Grimsbane asked from behind a plain office desk.
Connor had a somewhat rectangular face, a defined jawline and moderate cheekbones. His facial structure gave off a firm, grounded appearance that reminded Gareth of corps execs. He had deep-set, narrow blue eyes that conveyed intensity and focus. His lips were surprisingly thin, set in a line that added to his no-nonsense attitude.
He had what sounded like an Aussie accent, but had abnormally pale skin. The incongruity, as well as his intense facial features, raised the hairs on Gareth’s arms and made him shift in his seat.
He wore a simple loose cotton shirt that exposed his built, shaved chest, and brown cotton pants that fit loosely on his muscular form.
“Uhm, always remember to keep your socks dry?” Gareth answered off the top of his head.
Connor, about to contradict him, actually paused and tilted his head to the side in thought, “Hell, you might be right, that is a very good point. However, what you should always remember is to always. Look. Up.”
Gareth frowned and shook his head in confusion.
“The canopy is one of Volun’s greatest challenges.” He pointed his thick, calloused index finger upwards to emphasise the seriousness with which he spoke. His nails were nicely trimmed, but Gareth saw the smallest spots of filth hidden in their corners. “At any given moment, the chances are high that you are the smallest creature in any given area. This is Volun, the realm of giant trees and giant beasts that live in those giant trees. You are nothing more than a snack to gobble up; chock-full of essence for any carnivore to feast on. Most of the predators are ambush predators due to the tall trees. You must therefore, say it with me...always look up.”
Gareth visibly gulped, he very much remembered the giant creatures he'd seen in his adventures to Volun: the inhuman screeches in the dark; trees the size of apartment complexes toppled and covered with claw marks; massive bones barely covered by plant growth.
“Always look up, got it. What sorts of animals can I expect to be roamin’ about, trying to chomp me?”
“Ah! You stumbled onto a common misconception among adventurers right there…” he held up the finger that had never actually stopped pointing up, as if to make a perpetual point, or like a dictator.
“There is a difference between an animal, a monster, and a beast.”
Gareth cocked his head in confusion but Connor continued, “An animal is any creature that is naturally born into this world. Monsters, on the other hand, are fierce and highly territorial cunts that escaped during a rift break. Lastly, Beasts are animals that have, through some fluke, managed to start cultivating, and can vary in tier. They are the most prevalent. The difference between each is small, but monsters are usually better at combat and deceptively strong for their tier, they often smell of ozone and attack anything on sight. Best avoid those…Best avoid beasts as well, while you're at it.”
Connor seemed to have forgotten Gareth’s original question so Gareth prompted him again, “Oh crikey, completely forgot. Well, you can expect all sorts. Beasts are known for their adaptability in terms of elemental alignment, so you might find a big-ass crock in the river, then look up to see its mate hangin’ out in the tree above ya.”
“I fail to see how that has anything to do with elemental alignment.” Gareth scratched his head and took a very small sip of the fruity drink Connor had poured him.
“Well, a crock in the river is obviously aligned to Water elemental mana, while his buddy might be aligned to Air so as to fly, or Plant mana so as to easily climb a tree…You seriously didn't know this? Ya Pa and Ma never teach ya this shit?”
“I grew up in an orphanage in Bong’Odi, so I didn't have much opportunity to learn.” This was the alibi Guanji had told him to use. Guanji also told Gareth that Connor would be able to sense the lie in his aura, but he at least wouldn’t have the truth.
Connor cocked his head to the side and raised his brows, but after brief and visible deliberation he nevertheless continued with the lesson.
The three hours with Connor had flown by as Connor proved himself an engaging teacher. Either that or the topic of Yggdrasil itself was very fascinating. By the end of the lesson Gareth was starting to get tired, more intellectually than physically, but his body also started getting sore at the joints.
Oliver Wavestrider, it turned out, was a handsome young man with a clean shaven face and square jaw.
He was the classic prince charming that wore a full suit of armour without the helmet so that his shoulder length blond hair could flow freely through the wind. His armour was an intricate affair with damascus steel plates in an elaborately dazzling pattern. Faint white and gold runes glowed along the edges of each plate, of which there were many. He was also tall, obscenely tall, nearly seven feet tall, versus Gareth’s emaciated five foot, and six inches.
He frankly glowed in a ‘golden boy’ sort of way, and Gareth instantly resented him for it. His perfectly white straight teeth, his easy smile that dimpled handsomely, and the confidence of walking as if the world owed him something. He grew up having everything: a happy family, a bountiful income that would assure the survival of his family.
Fuck this posh guy.
They didn't talk much other than for their initial greeting and introduction.
He took Gareth to a quiet open-roofed stone square where many people sat in meditation. It was a large square of about 100 by 100 feet, and every five feet a comfy square cushion sat for people to sit on.
“Weak privacy screen.” Oliver whispered a minty breath and pointed at the slight distortions in the air between each person. His gauntleted hand hid much of his struggles, but each joint was clean and polished, showing a guy who washed his hands regularly or kept his armour in immaculate condition. “There's a spot on the far side where you can sit.”
He led the way and it felt like sacrilege to even walk loudly, so Gareth rolled his feet as much as possible, and on granite stone that was pretty easy. Oliver, impossibly, made less noise than Gareth’s boots. It looked somewhat ridiculous on his skeletal frame, all the workout and training gear, but he didn't have much of a choice.
Every now and again someone near the walls would stand up, walk to someone on a cushion and tap them on the shoulder to apparently remind them to leave.
“How long did Elder Guanji say you should meditate?” Oliver asked as he settled Gareth on a cushion, while he chose to stand in lue of there not being another cushion in range.
“An hour, I think.”
“I will tell the attendants to fetch you in an hour. Have you meditated before?”
“Yeah, with Guanji.”
He smiled widely, “Excellent, Good luck.”
With that he turned and left.
“Wait-wait, wait!” Gareth whisper-shouted but the moment Oliver passed beyond the barrier, no sound escaped the transparent screen.
“Fuck it. Let's wing it.” He crossed his legs, though his flexibility was still lacking, and settled in to meditate with the aid of his first two Principles. Unlike when he'd meditated during his captivity, and prior to getting the System, the Awareness and Stillness came easily, almost like second nature.
His mind easily slipped back to the interesting things Connor had told him. Gareth learned that minor elementals were at the bottom of the food chain and entire ecosystems revolved around them, like plankton blooms. Filter feeders fed on minor elementals and grazers fed on filter feeders. Carnivores ate grazers, and were in turn eaten by carnivorous plants, returning their essence back to the ground. A little fucked food cycle, but there you have it.
Humans fit somewhere in the middle of the food chain, as an individual. Yet, in large enough numbers they could fight off beast lords. They would therefore congregate in cities most of the time. Smaller towns can survive in the central empire, where guards regularly patrol and cull beasts numbers but small towns were in the minority. Frontier marquis like Volun didn't have perimeter towns unless they guarded a very valuable resource, like the Vormire Dungeon, but they had to be hardy folk with stringent rules and protocols.
Gareth ripped his attention back to his body when he realised his thoughts had once again wondered instead of meditating.
There was one new sensation as Gareth mentally felt out his body: his stomach. It felt really nice and warm and fuzzy in the centre of his body. It was slightly distracting as the heat would wax and wane randomly, but... It's linked to my breaths?!
He hyperventilated to make the fire burn hot enough to feel in his throat, and he held his breath for the flame to burn down to an ember, but it never went out.
For more than 45 minutes he played with his breath and even passed out a few times as he breathed too much or too little.
He was actually quite delirious when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. “This is your reminder that an hour has passed, brother.” A young man dressed in maroon robes said and quickly left in a shuffling sort of walk.
Shaking his head slightly to get ahold of himself, Gareth stood and moved to the entrance of the building, where he quickly found the gleaming form that was Oliver.
It was important to note that while Oliver’s armour was shiny, wear and tear were still visible. Signs of battle could be seen in the scratches on the metal and leather, most buffed to near invisibility, but noticeable when the light caught it ju~st right. It was clear: Oliver used his armour.
“Come, we go to the training yard.” Oliver said and walked beside Gareth down a short corridor. It was strange but Oliver's armour didn't clink or make sound as he moved. When Gareth remarked on this Oliver just shrugged, “Enchantments do most of the work, but they are not 100% effective. The rest comes with practice and the [heavy armour] skill mastery.”
As they walked, Gareth realised that his meditation, while not completely getting rid of his resentment at Oliver, had dulled a lot of his anger. He realised that he might have just been grumpy and tired.
“Impressive.”
Gareth had to admit. It was one thing to make very little noise, but he listened closely and couldn't detect any sounds of scraping or clanking.
“Oh, I just dabble in the skill.” Oliver waved off, “There are those who dedicate their lives to it; such as the Imperial Custodes, seeking their Dao within its heavy metal plates.” He valiantly clasped a fist in the air.
“Ha! Sick.” he smiled, just imagining these heavily armoured tanks that masqueraded as men.
They left from the front door of a truly massive building that more resembled a courthouse than anything to do with training. Large, grooved marble steps led up to an elegant wooden door, flanked on either side by grooved marble columns.
It was a big change of pace when compared to the residential district, which had a lot more wooden aspects carved in monstrous murals. If the residential district followed an Aztec theme, then the Grand felt like a Roman capital. But everything, even the little fountains they passed, were LARGE.
Probably for the three meter tall cultivators he passed. It actually made Gareth feel a little small. A feeling not helped by perfect ‘golden boy’ Oliver.
They circled around the five storey building, and walked down a busy stone path. People passing by had more extreme magical features than the people of the outer districts, other than just their pure size. More tattoos, more runes, and more passive magical effects. He even saw one lady whose hair was made of golden fire; and a man whose eyes were a shining pearlescent white that swirled like a galaxy. All of them looked fucking tough though. Heavily armed, armoured, and carried a steel glint in their eyes that would make militech marines shit their pants. Hard cunts.
In contrast to these intimidating warriors, spaced every ten metres down the path, were burbling fountains illuminated from within by mage lights of various colours. The contrast between the attempted peaceful scenery, and the actual bloody warrior nature of the people, created an atmosphere of barely hidden violence. As if the city was poised to erupt at any moment, and until it did everyone just pretended that everything was normal.
The rain was still pouring down but the sunset, which would last for another week, made every drop of rain shine with golden sparks, alighting the world with sunset-flame and bioluminescent blue.
The ever-present rain makes the fountains somewhat redundant, but if they like fountains in the rain who am I to judge?
“Where are we heading?” Gareth asked as they came around the corner of the courthouse-like building.
“Over there.” Oliver said and pointed to a fucking massive glass dome lit internally with a soft opalescent glow. Despite being glass, he could only vaguely see through it, somewhat similar to the privacy screens of the meditation square.
Three hundred metres high at its zenith, it was truly a marvel of glasscraft because Gareth couldn't see any seams in its structure.
Oliver smirked as he saw Gareth stop and stare in awe, “As he should.” He whispered, but Gareth heard and mistakenly took it the wrong way.
“A grandmaster was hired from the Imperial capital, Avrrest, to complete this marvel of defence. In case the walls fell because of Darklings, the city would be able to evacuate to this Light aligned building where those monsters would be greatly weakened…It was not the work of one man, but the combined efforts of hundreds of enchanters, runecrafters, and architects over decades as they all fine-tuned its design. It is rumoured to be able to withstand three blows from a tier 8 beast.” Oliver proudly swept his hand to indicate the grand structure. It was impossible not to be impressed.
-
Oliver taped Gareth’s left ankle with a wooden sword, “Too big a step.” It stung like a bitch.
Gareth moved his foot a bit to the right, “More.” He moved it a little more, “Good.”
“Next!” Oliver barked and Gareth moved his right leg forward while bringing his sword up to block overhead. He received a slap on his wrist, right foot, right hip, and left elbow, all within a second. “Your lunge is not deep enough and your wrist is too tight!” Gareth quickly corrected himself and Oliver once more called, “Next!”
They were in a small corner of a very large sand pit in which various people sparred with wooden implements. Adjacent sand pits were cordoned off by wooden fence posts inscribed with green runes. These pits appeared to house more experienced fighters, but none of them were fighting outright, merely sparring.
Gareth was happy to note that there were ten other beginners in this pit, though they looked to be younger and in much better shape.
His near-skeletal frame was starting to irritate him. It was slow, weak, and quickly grew tired. It was embarrassing, but he pushed on. There was only one way to get stronger and that was through exercise. The relatively minor pain he experienced was nothing if it meant he could be as strong as the olympic athletes around him.
The proof that strength was merely a matter of hard work stood all around him. One ‘corral’ over - as Gareth liked to think of the sand pits due to their fence posts - people spared in a whirling blur of metal and violence. Each time their weapons clashed small puffs of dust would fly off the ground, the sound dampened by some sort of enchantment.
All he had to do to achieve his dream of freedom was to push himself harder. There was one thing to be said by Ian making sure he was immortal: Gareth could push himself to his limits…and beyond. Death held no sway over him.
“Next!” Oliver barked and Gareth moved into the next form, again and again and again.
Oliver was impressed by this emaciated man. It is evident by his faltering breath and unfocussed gaze that he was close to passing out after just half an hour of training. Yet every time he stumbled, which meant a fall in the thick sand, he would chuckle weakly and stand up for more. Oliver was not one to deny others their hunger for power, so as long as Gareth was willing to keep going he would put him through his paces.
After forty five minutes Gareth was out like a candle while his body heaved for breath. After ten minutes, and half a glass of water, they were up and at it again. Oliver advising him that it could be dangerous to continue but Gareth told him to fuck off. He chuckled as he tapped Gareth on his right elbow, a warrior’s spirit indeed.
-
Two weeks passed like this, where Gareth would learn some manners from Ellisandra, learn something incredibly interesting but not immediately relevant from Connor, and get the shit beat out of him by Oliver.
Guanji didn't train him directly, but the two spent each supper together, discussing the various topics of the day. It was tiring, but not the type of life-fearing stress that Gareth had grown up with, nor the endless gloom of his captivity. It was nice, honestly.
Gareth was rational and mature enough to realise his dislike of Oliver was unfair and he was 100% misjudging him. This didn't mean he could immediately idolise the man, but as he got to know him over these two weeks he considered that he might not be a total douche.
In these two weeks Gareth came to appreciate master Guanji's particular sense of humour, Ellisandra's purity through strength, and Oliver's kindly unrelenting spirit. The only one who did not make an impression on him was, in fact, Connor Grimsbane.
The man was guarded, though shared much about himself that had no true meaning or vulnerability: He liked cats, destested aubergines, and had no real care for personal hygiene - judging by his stink of sweat. Of all his recently instated teachers, he was Gareth's least favourite.
