Three days have passed since the Colderians ambushed us. Commander Erika is still unconscious, but the head healer reassured us that her condition is stable and she can wake up at any moment. And since I know that commander's condition is stable, I am now focusing on my training where General Zoren's right-hand man is teaching me how to control my magic.
They also tried to determine what my magic is using an appraisal orb. They found out that Nature Magic flows through my body. It's said to be part of Earth Magic, which is one of the main elements. They also said that my magic gives me strong regeneration, which is why I survived all the injuries I sustained in the battle. However, the regeneration wasn't able to fix half of my face, so it remained burned and scarred.
I stare into the basin of water at my reflection. My left side is still me—the boy who once dreamed of being knighted—while the right side is a ruined mask of fire. I'm lucky that my hair didn't get burn. It's still the same messy blonde hair that I always had. However, my right eye is now blinded.
"Stop brooding."
The sharp voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned to see Sir Garen, Zoren's right hand, standing behind me with wooden sword on right hand. That's right... I'm still in training right now. I grabbed the fallen wooden sword beside me, and slowly stood up from the basin of water.
"Your swordplay is worse than I thought... didn't Erika teach you how to fight?" He added.
I grit my teeth, gripping the wooden sword tighter.
"I was only ever her squire. My role was to fetch water, polish armor, carry messages. I trained when I could, but—"
"But you never bled for it." Sir Garen interrupted coldly, raising his wooden sword. His scarred lips curled into a scowl. "Knighthood isn't earned with half-effort. Steel remembers hesitation. And so do enemies."
Before I could react, his blade cracked against mine. The impact jarred my arms, nearly knocking the weapon from my grip. I staggered back, heart pounding.
"Too slow!" Sir Garen barked, pressing forward.
His strikes came like thunder, precise and merciless. Every blow rattled my bones, every block left my palms stinging.
I stumbled again, barely managing to deflect his downward slash. My eye caught only flashes of motion—I was slower now, less precise. The right side of my vision was gone, and it threw me off balance.
"Pathetic." Sir Garen shoved me back with a shoulder strike, sending me sprawling into the dirt. "You shouln't call yourself a squire of Erika."
His words pierced into me, harder than any blades could. My hand trembled as I pushed myself up. I raised my wooden sword, my chest heaving.
Our blades collided. My strike had no finesse, no polish—yet roots burst from the soil beneath Sir Aldric's boots, wrapping around his ankles. His balance faltered just enough that my wooden sword struck his side with a hollow thud.
Sir Garen looked down at the roots binding him, then back at me.
"Using magic in a sword fight?" He asked.
My lips curved into a smirk.
"Just playing smart."
I drove my wooden sword down, expecting another clean hit, but... Sir Garen had stopped it with his bare hands.
"Then, I should play smart too." He said, before shoving his palm straight onto my stomach.
The impact forced the air out of my lungs. My vision blurred as I got sent flying towards the tree.
BAM!
My back hits hard, completely driving me into unconscious state. But my regeneration kicks in and my consciousness slowly clings back to me.
I coughed violently, clutching my stomach as air slowly returned to my lungs.
"That... was... your magic...?" I asked, breathing hard as I slowly stands up on my shaky legs.
"No, it wasn't." He replied flatly. "It was something else. Let's stop training for now."
I wiped the sweat and dirt from my face, glaring at him through my one good eye. My hand brushed over the scarred half of my face, feeling the ruined flesh beneath my fingertips.
Sir Garen slid the wooden sword onto his shoulder, turning his back on me. He walked away without saying anything or sparing a glance on me.
I slumped against the tree I'd been thrown into. My chest still burned from his strike, but the warmth of my regeneration soothed it, knitting the pain away little by little. I clenched my fists. Fear gnawed at the edges of my mind, but so did determination. If commander opened her eyes tomorrow, I wanted her to see more than just the boy she once called a squire.
I wanted her to see a knight.
****
Later that noon...
Zoren is standing in the middle of a chamber. His eyes are narrowed sharply, preventing any emotion from showing. He can't get William's story out of his mind. And now he will get more information about what the Colderians did.
He stepped into the center of the circle and blue light suddenly flowed through the lines. One by one, the five torches around him lit up, and below them were orbs.
From these orbs emerged light that gradually took the form of people.
"Generals..." Zoren said in a deep voice. "I have something to say and find out."
The five figures solidified into shimmering projections, each bearing the sigil of their station. Some faces were obscured by helmets, others hidden beneath hoods, but their presence alone carried the weight of authority.
"Speak, General Zoren." Rumbled by a general, his massive frame outlined in flickering blue. "You wouldn't summon us unless the matter was grave."
"The peace treaty from the Colderians was now a declaration of another war." General Zoren started. "They ambushed one of my commander en route to their palace. The commander and a squire survived the attack but the others were wiped out."
The chamber fell into dead silence.
One, a woman with a hawk-shaped helmet, decided to break the silence first. "Your commander... you say she lives. Who's she?" She asked.
The chamber grew tense, the torchlight flickering against the generals' spectral forms. Zoren stared at them first, his eyes faltering as if he doesn't want to say the name of the commander.
"Well, General?" The hawk general spoke again.
Zoren's fists tightened at his sides.
"It was Commander Erika." He finally said.
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the five generals' projections.
"What the hell are you doing?!" One of the generals suddenly burst out of anger. "Why did you let her go to the palace of our enemy?!"
Zoren did not flinch at the outburst. His jaw tightened, his gaze steady as steel.
"She requested the assignment." He said firmly. "And she was the most qualified to handle the negotiations. You know this as well as I do."
"Qualified or not..." Another general spoke. "You risked too much sending her there."
The hawk-helmed general folded her arms. "And yet, she didn't die. That is what intrigues me. If the Colderians truly meant to assassinate her, then why is she still breathing? Did someone saved her?" She asked.
"We're getting nowhere with this meeting." Another general spoke. This time, it was a hooded general with a lean figure. "Let's continue this when your commander wakes up."
Zoren's eyes narrowed at the hooded figure's words. The flames of the torches hissed and crackled, shadows dancing along the chamber walls.
The hawk-helmed general inclined her head. "Very well. We'll find out more soon." She said, before dissolving into nothingness.
The orbs dimmed, the generals' projections dissolving one by one until only Zoren remained in the chamber.
****
I turned sharply right, heading for the medical quarters. My fingers danced on the doorknob for a second before I decided to opened it. Inside, I found the head healer—Sir Victus, changing the bandage of my unconscious commander.
There's a faint green glow, radiating from his palm, as the bandage wrapped carefully around the forehead of my commander.
I find myself unable to speak, only staring at old healer's back.
Sir Victus's hand moved with deliberate care, the soft hum of healing magic threading into the bandages as if he were weaving life itself into the fabric. Commander Erika's face was pale but peaceful, her chest rising and falling with steady rhythm.
"You're here."
Sir Victus's voice snapped me back to reality.
I swallowed, stepping forward, the door clicking shut behind me.
"...I didn't want to interrupt—"
"You already did." He simply interrupted, finally glancing over his shoulder. "What do you need?"
I hesitated, my hand twitching toward the scarred half of my face. "I... just wanted to see her." I replied.
Sir Victus went back to his work, wrapping the last of the bandage with a firm tug. With him finished, he finally turned around to look at me.
"She wouldn't want you to look at her like that." Sir Victus said with gentleness.
"Like what?" I replied, lowering myself onto the stool near my commander's bed.
Sir Victus stride away from me, approaching the cabinet mounted on the wall. He opens it gently and put the leftover bandages in the far side. He turned back to me, his eyes etched with concern.
"Let me take a look at your right eye." He said, lowering himself.
I nodded reluctantly, my fingers brushing the edge of my scarred cheek.
"It's… useless now. I can't see a damn thing from it."
Sir Victus placed two fingers beneath my chin, tilting my head toward the lamplight. His eyes narrowed, scanning the damage with precision of a healer.
"Burnt tissue… the nerves are dead." His voice carried no pity, only the flat assessment of experience. But then his tone softened. "And yet, the eye itself still carries traces of mana. Faint, but not gone."
"What are you saying? That it might heal?" I replied, my chest tightening at his words.
"Not heal. Not in the way you're hoping for." He said, shaking his head. "Nature magic manifests in strange ways, especially when tested by trauma. Your regeneration saved your life, but scars tell their own story. Sometimes, magic burrows into wounds instead of repairing them. If that eye of yours awakens, it may not see the world as it once did… but as something else."
His words rattled around inside me, equal parts terrifying and electrifying. I reached up, pressing my palm against the ruined flesh. But I only felt emptiness.
"We'll wait if that right eye of yours will manifest. Don't get your hopes up." Sir Victus said, finally standing up.
He moved toward the door, his robes brushing softly against the floor. The door shut softly behind him, leaving me alone with my commander.
I turned back to her, my chest tightening. Her hand rested on the sheets, pale and still. Slowly, hesitantly, I reached out and wrapped my fingers around hers.
"I'm going to be stronger, commander..." I softly said, squishing her hand. "I promise..."
****
The door of the general's quarter opened. Zoren walked out of the room, his eyes filled with exhaustion.
After meeting with the generals, he thought he would finally have an answer. But now, his mind was clouded with questions.
He moved slowly down the corridor, his heavy boots echoing against the stone. Servants and soldiers stiffened when he passed, bowing their heads in silence, but he hardly noticed them. His thoughts weighed heavier than his armor ever could.
The Colderians had planned this strike. That much was certain. Yet, they couldn't finished the job. Why?
He clenched his jaw, his hand brushing over the hilt of his sword as if the weapon itself might give him answers.
"General."
A shadow detached itself from the wall ahead.
Zoren stopped, his eyes narrowing as Garen stepped into view. His face was unreadable, but there was a faint trace of sweat at his brow—signs of recent sparring.
"How is he?" Zoren asked without preamble.
"Worse." Garen replied. "The boy's half-blind, scarred, and carries the weight of failure. Erika may see promise in him, but—"
"But what, Garen?" Zoren interrupted. "I've seen a certain blind man with fine swordplay. William will be okay."
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the distant toll of a bell from the watchtowers outside.
Garen vanished back into the shadows, Zoren exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose.