Inner Region of Agora.
In the snowy mountain ranges of Sierra, blizzards never stopped. It threatened the wildlife, obliterating anyone who would try to fight against it. The harsh terrain proved difficult to traverse and the trees were covered in white it became hard to differentiate left from right.
Despite this, two figures continued to traverse down the ranges, carrying sacks of dead animals on their back.
"How much longer is it?"
"Be quiet. We're almost there."
Teeth chattered from the cold, his hands that held the bow shivered as he huffed down the mountain. The meager sack he carried will only be enough for three days' sustenance at most, maybe five if he rationed.
From the distance, a fortress gleamed in black stood tall at the precipice of the mountain. A young man waited by the gates, carrying a dead deer on his shoulder. The biting wind did not mask the scent of blood on him, overwhelming the man with a bow.
"Good heavens, how many did you kill? That smell can't come from that deer alone."
"I lost track of time and got lost in the mountains. I stumbled upon some wolves hunting me and killed them by chance. A pity I couldn't carry them back."
"Vihrea, what did you catch?"
Vihrea muttered a spell under her breathe as the gates opened. She adjusted the sack on her shoulder and said, "Foxes."
"Foxes? Multiple? How on Eos did you manage to see them?"
The chill dissipated once they stepped foot in the fortress. They made their way to the kitchen, where chefs and servants bustled about preparing for the upcoming dinner.
She shrugged and said, "What can I say, I have good eyes. Porte, can you give this to the head chef? I have somewhere else to be."
The petite young man who had managed to hunt only hares nodded and took the sack from her. "No problem. We'll drop this off to the kitchen."
"She's always so quick to leave..." Porte mumbled as they made their way to the kitchen.
Vihrea went to another wing of the fortress. The obsidian sheen of the place also included the inside, giving the place a cold and gloomy atmosphere. Luckily enough, the Lord of the castle had been nice enough to have the fortress be warmed.
So unlike the cold exterior, it did not feel cold at all.
Agora had been standing for centuries as Lords came and went. Heroes were bygones and war had dwindled. The fortress, which now functioned more as a castle, had been reduced to training grounds for rookie knights and warriors.
Except for the occasional beasts invasions that were minimal at best, the continent stayed at relative peace for the last three hundred years.
Reaching the sleeping quarters, Vihrea opened the door to her room and found her roommate immersed at her vanity.
"You're back quite early. No game?"
Vihrea sighed and removed her shoes by the bed. "Hardly. The winter seemed never ending. We had no choice but to turn back lest we freeze to death."
"Understood. Have you heard of the new instructor coming this spring?"
"You say instructor as if this is some kind of institution and we're students." Vihrea said while stretching her limbs.
Agora had turned into nothing more than a glorified institution that taught knights and warriors how to kill. She disdained the thought of these young men and woman who had never learned the hardships of life be taught techniques meant for war.
She, on the other hand, not such a big fan. But knowing her unknown origins and as an orphan with no backing, there were hardly other options to choose from. It had already been fortunate enough that she ended up here.
"As someone who grew up with an education yes we might as well be students in an institution. But never mind that. His name is Kapfem and he's a lower-ranking noble from Werdolf."
Vihrea's hands paused. "And what makes this man so intriguing you would bring him up during casual conversation?"
"Because his background is interesting."
A former knight and suspected member of Oleander. Whether truth or hearsay, none could confirm. Fleur had her own suspicions of whether he had been invited by the Lord or simply came of his own accord.
Vihrea tilted her head and thought about it. The Lord of the castle gave her a new lease in life, but she had never heard that name from him before. Then again, they were not on such good terms with each other and neither treated each other with such familiarity to remember each other's friends and acquaintances.
But it did arouse her suspicion. He did not seem as simple as he looked. Was he merely an eighth class soturi like many others believed? Or did he also have some sort of secret identity?
She shook her head and said, "That's enough speculation. We'll know more once spring comes."
Fleur pouted. "You know sometimes I hate that you're not as invested in hearsay as much as I am. I'm telling you all these things most people would die to hear and you hardly care."
"Of course I care."
"Hardly!"
Vihrea sat up and said, "Let's not talk about that anymore. When was the last time you trained?"
"I refuse."
Despite this, Fleur had still been dragged out of the room to train with the person she hated training with the most. It was not as if she was not fit, but Vihrea's training was on another level.
She didn't hate herself enough to go through the kind of training that seemed more akin to self flagellation and penitence of a religious person than anything.
After the sun had set, both women were soaked in sweat in the training hall. "You are a monster. You and Kassis."
"Remind me who that is again."
Fleur rolled her eyes. "Kassis. Also addicted to training and sparring, always holed up in the Black Tower. The one who's like a year younger than you with a body most men would die for and a handsome face. That Kassis?"
Vihrea took a moment to think about it again and asked, "The one with a flyssa?"
"Odd that's how you remember him but yes."
"Speaking of the Black Tower, why would anyone ever want to continue training there? It's not much useful for anything else except endurance."
"Because he's obsessed with breaking your record."
Vihrea furrowed her brows. "I was just lucky."
"Better to tell it straight to his face."
"Never mind. I'm not interested. Let him suffer."
Black Tower stood in the east courtyard, used as a training ground for tempering the body to withstand pressure that mimicked the advancement of a soturi. Nevertheless, it was nothing more than an inaccurate mimicry of vitalis for rookies.
It had been proven that many vitalis users do not accurately reflect their advancement. One can be in the fifth class and have strength closer to a sixth class and so on. Vihrea was not all that interested except to strengthen her body.
To be a soturi (a warrior that had been formally blessed by Eos itself), had several advancements, which were called classes. That is why Fleur and other people referred to themselves as students, much to the dismay of Vihrea.
No one is really sure what the bottleneck is supposed to be once you've stepped foot into it, but the highest recorded class was a warrior from the Zabiya who had reached the eleventh class.
Bottlenecks were commonplace and even more common was never reaching past the third class. Vihrea, abnormally gifted than most who tried to pursue higher levels, had already reached the fifth class. Still a long way from reaching the greats, but a better start than most could ever dream of.
Alas, she could not bring it upon herself to feel confident enough to own her strength. It was never enough for her, it never seemed to be.