I walked with a pain in my legs I had never felt before. Beside me, Theo seemed to possess an inexhaustible reserve of energy. Somehow, he skipped along, dodging puddles and whistling an off-key tune.
"Hey, Luth! Did you see how Zoltan bent that iron bar with his bare hands? Crazy, right?" "Yeah... crazy," I muttered, rubbing a sore shoulder. "Listen, Theo..." He stopped, turning with that smile of his. "Tell me!" "Today's training... Zoltan talked about reinforcing muscles directly with mana. But for those who have no mana, or very little... it's impossible to keep up with that pace. Are there others like me here?"
Theo stopped smiling for a moment, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, yes! Not everyone here has the necessary mana to use it in combat. But..." "But?" "From what I know, they focus on pure physical strength. They follow the discipline of the Northern Saint." "Northern Saint?" "Of course, the Northern Saint! Well... almost everyone, right? Some go crazy before that," Theo added. I looked at him for a few seconds. "But what is this Saint of the...?" "North! Northern Saint! Don't tell me you don't know what it is?" he said, huffing.
I had never heard nor read that name in any book before. "Do you like making fun of me?" I asked him seriously; after all, I truly didn't know what it was. Theo looked around, as if afraid of being overheard. "It's a discipline designed for those with no magic talent, but it has a cost. There was a boy, Jarek. Robust, but zero magic talent. He learned the foundations of the discipline quickly." I felt a cold shiver. "But during the open-field exercise two months ago, rumor has it his muscles exploded."
Huh? Exploded? "Yes. You're making fun of me. I get it, and did you see it with your own eyes?" Theo started to fidget, then scratched his head. "Me? Ah, well yes, I hadn't arrived yet, at the training camp I mean. I've only been here a month!" "Ah, let's drop this subject, I'm really tire—"
"Ah! Here they are, my two warrior princesses!" the old man exclaimed, interrupting me. "You look nice and fresh. Excellent." Huh? "Fresh?" I snapped. "I can't feel my legs!" "Perfect! That means the blood is still circulating!"
Kael tossed me a shovel. I caught it by pure reflex, almost falling from the weight. "See? You have quick reflexes. Listen well: the army horses ate too much today. And do you know what happens when they eat too much?" "W-What?" Theo asked naively. "They produce a lot of shit, boy! And someone has to shovel if you want the beasts ready for tomorrow. Consider it extra training for... uhm... core stability!"
"Are you mocking us?" I growled, gripping the shovel handle. "Would you prefer to go back to Zoltan and tell him you're bored?" Kael shot back, winking at me. "Actually, we already finished training, we wer—" "Come on! Come on! Enough chatter!"
Theo took the initiative. He looked at me smiling, pointing to the piles of horse manure. "Solution for muscles found, good right?" I huffed. Are they both this stupid? I didn't understand, but it actually had a certain logic, I had to admit.
We started working, but Theo's stamina didn't last long. After cleaning two stalls, I saw him collapse onto a bale of hay, falling asleep instantly with his mouth open, while a black horse sniffed his hair. I was left alone with Kael. The old man limped from one horse to another, checking their hooves. I continued shoveling; that monotonous rhythm somehow calmed my thoughts.
"Kael," I said. "In here, without mana... I don't know how I can continue like this." "Boy," Kael grunted. "Are you so weak that you give up on the first day?" Weak, huh? Those words somehow gave me the right grit.
"You're right, I'm a weak type." I stood up, stabbing the shovel into the manure. "How is this place really structured? I'm not talking about official rules. I'm talking about how one survives." Kael stopped. He wiped his hands on a greasy rag and looked at me, perplexed. For a moment, the air of the senile fool he loved to display vanished.
"The Low Sector is the dumping ground, Luthian. But from here, legends are forged. Just think that in this shitty place they let young nobles and geniuses from other regions train." This time he stood up too. "Zoltan is the Captain of the army under your father, but at the same time, he is the strongest after him." He pointed to the shovel I held. "After being an adventurer in the past, he climbed the ranks of the royal army using only his brute strength, training incessantly for years."
"Royal army?" I asked sarcastically. "Boy, where do you live? We all belong to the Kingdom of Khorton, and one can only be knighted in the royal capital. You have to follow a harsh regime for years, and he obtained that title alone to return to your father." Although it was clear there was no love lost between the two, those words were steeped in respect.
"So to survive I must become a knight?" I asked. Kael snapped, thwacking me with the broom he had beside him. "Ouch! Why the hit? What was that for?" "You must train! Persevere for a goal, a purpose." Those were big words for me. A goal?
"Your advantage is that no one expects anything from you," Kael retorted dryly. He approached, pointing a knobby finger against my chest. "Don't you want to clear your name? This is your starting point. Build muscles by shoveling. Learn the geography of the place while you clean. Become invisible until you are strong enough to survive on your own." I stared at him. There was a wisdom in his eyes that didn't belong to a stable hand. "You... Are you sure you're just a stable hand?"
"I am just a humble stable hand who takes advantage of people like you to do the heavy lifting." Kael burst out laughing, a croaking sound. "And are you sure you're just a spoiled brat?" He looked at me uncertainly for a moment. I didn't understand what he meant. "In what sense?" "Ahem!" Kael brought his hand to his mouth to cough a couple of times.
"Getting back to us, I'm old and my back is wrecked. But every service deserves payment. Remember that. Unfortunately, I have no money. But I can find you something else." I leaned on the shovel, reflecting. Kael knew many things for just a stable hand. For now, I wasn't interested in knowing who he really was and why he went so far for me. But one thing was certain: I desperately needed information.
"I don't want money," I said. "Then what could interest you?" I thought about what was right to do for now. "Books, I need knowledge. I am still too small to train as you say, but I can compensate by starting to study," I replied without hesitation. "Whether they are old, or to be thrown away. Treatises on magic, history, geography. Anything."
Kael arched an eyebrow, surprised. "Books? You're getting stranger by the minute, boy. Most kids your age would ask me for something else entirely." He scratched his bristly beard, studying me. Then he nodded. "Deal. You help me keep these stables clean, and I..." he lowered his voice, conspiratorially, "...every month's end I will leave you something interesting under your pillow. I know certain passages that lead straight to the library." "Every month's end, huh?" I repeated. "Accepted." Kael smiled, but this time there was no mockery. "Good. Now finish that corner, Luthian. Knowledge has a price, and tonight that price smells like shit."
I resumed shoveling. I had found an ally. Perhaps I could survive. That evening in the stables marked the beginning of my true education. But knowledge, as Kael had said, had a price. And that price was time.
Days became weeks, weeks became years. The frightened child who had been exiled died slowly under the weight of the shovel and routine, leaving space for something else. Winter finally arrived. At seven years old, I learned at my own expense that the cold was not a passing event, but a constant presence, an invisible enemy that drove you mad. Those who couldn't handle it disappeared from the training rotations. The nobles' children stayed in their homes. The "less fortunate"... well, no one asked questions when a bed remained empty in the morning. The dormitories were many and kept filling up only to empty again.
As a small child, I didn't remember winter lasting so long. Probably because I was born right during the cold season, or perhaps because, in the luxury of the palace, I had never lacked anything. I always stayed locked in my rooms. Private lessons, games with my brothers... and nothing more. Rowan and Darian didn't show themselves for that year and a half. I knew Zoltan had reserved a different path for them. I wanted to speak with Rowan again about that last look of his. But somehow I knew that for now, I could do nothing.
Now, however, the situation was different. In the morning we trained in running. Those best suited to manipulate mana were separated immediately. In no time at all, an abyss had been created. Zoltan divided us by age, from oldest to youngest. Sometimes the physical gap was so high it created problems, but that didn't stop the training. Or rather, it didn't stop them from training. Although I wasn't the only one without mana, I came in last in everything. My build didn't help: I was small, fragile. But I saw, little by little, the results. And that small progress was the only constant that sustained me.
Yet Theo, despite my discovery that he was a prodigy in mana manipulation, always ended up staying with me. At first, I thought it was a sort of friendship. Then, as the months passed, I began to see it differently. Kael, meanwhile, had become a constant presence. Somehow he always helped me more than expected. An extra blanket left "by mistake" on my cot, a boiled potato hidden under the clean straw on days when the mess hall rationed us.
But the greatest gift was the books. That was how the world opened before my eyes, there, sitting cross-legged under the flickering light of a candle and a blanket in my room. The Legend of Khort. The Lands of Turahn. Poems of Astenite... All books that recounted both the history and politics of the kingdom. By day I trained, and by night I studied. I had to survive, remembering what had happened in the past. To understand more about my mother and the voice.
"Turahn is not just land; it is an immense body that breathes, the vastest continent ever trodden by the race of man. In a distant era, 7 heroes of various kingdoms and races united to fight a evil that threatened the world; years later the Kingdom of Khorton was born, created by the hero Khort. To the southwest, protected by the mountains of Galgard, lies Wistria, where it is said the young hero's beloved died at the hand of Endrys, the first Eisenhart, and from there the feudal region dominated by the banner of the noble Stahl Eisenharts was born after the year 359."
I read those words from a book titled The Love of Wistria. I looked up toward the small barred window. I was born there, right in that region in the homeland of Wistria, in the year 732. Apparently, according to the writings before year 0, this continent was a wild land contested by multiple races, then after the coming of the hero and the creation of his kingdom following the catastrophe known as Trika, the lands were divided equally into regions, thus creating the continent that today is called Turahn. The Citadel of Tia and the Stahl administrative seat in the mansion were a speck in a remote corner of Wistria, a region itself tiny compared to a gigantic world. But knowing that an "elsewhere" existed, vast and complex, made my "prison" a little less suffocating.
But soon after, problems began. Theo was starting to get stronger and stronger. His muscles responded well to training thanks to mana, becoming stronger, faster. I had to break my back to get a tenth of his results. He slowed down on purpose to wait for me during the runs. He often smiled at me when I fell. I couldn't stand it. Too often that gesture seemed like pity. That was what I read in his eyes. Not friendship, but the compassion reserved for a lame animal. I started to distance myself day by day. I convinced myself I was doing it for him, not to hinder his future, which was certainly better than mine. But the truth was more bitter: I was envious.
The breaking point came one evening, right in Kael's stables. We were moving incredibly heavy sacks of oats. I dragged mine, sweating cold and straining to the max. Theo looked at me smiling, placing his hand over his bicep. "I want to show you something, Luth! Watch and learn." Letting out a brief laugh. He slapped the sack with an open hand and tightened his fingers. Lifting it with one hand. Kael looked at Theo, starting to compliment him. "Oh! Fantastic, boy! You are perfecting the Vajra."
Such envy. If only I...
Theo approached me. "Luth! Leave it to me, I'll do yours too!" My vision blurred. I widened my trembling eyes. What? "Don't touch it!" I screamed. My voice echoed in the stable, startling the horses. Theo stepped back, confused. "Hey, I just wanted to help..."
"I don't need your help! I don't need your magic! How dare you make fun of me? are my efforts worth nothing?" I threw the sack to the ground. Shame burned my cheeks more than the exertion. I felt small. Useless. I took a small lunge and grabbed Theo by the collar of his tunic. I was about to punch him. "Luth! I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to think that, I just wanted to help you finish sooner." "Finish sooner? Is this a game to you?" "I didn't wan—" "Don't bullshit me! Fuck you, magic, and this stable!" I exclaimed as a lump rose in my throat. I had never been so angry with anyone, nor spoken that way.
"I see you've learned to speak out of your ass, boy! Excellent, now you really are an official student of Zoltan!" Kael chuckled at the end. "Hey Luth, let's calm down now, okay? I even have some buns I stole—" In that moment Theo grabbed the hand with which I held his collar. He squeezed my wrist so hard he was about to break it. He probably didn't even realize he was using mana. Such pain. "Aah!" I exclaimed with a cry of anger. How weak I am. Pathetic. Those words returned to my head after so long. My thoughts were too clouded, gripped by rage. I looked at my wrist: it had turned red.
"Sorry Luth! I didn't mean to hurt you! Luth!" "Boy, where are you going?" "Luth, don't g—" "Lu—"
Without saying a word, I turned and ran away. I ran out of the stables, ignoring Theo and Kael's calls. I ran until my breath failed me, until I could no longer hear their voices. And then I kept walking. I wanted to go far. Far from everyone, far from my weakness. I walked and ran, pushing myself upward, where the air became thinner and thinner. Without realizing it, I had arrived at the Peaks of Galgard.
What came over me? "In that moment I hated him to death." In the biting cold, my words were lost in the wind slamming against my face; I tried to clarify my thoughts. I didn't want it to end like this. But maybe it was the right thing. I reached the desolate place shortly after. But there, in the absolute silence, the frantic beating of my heart began to calm. I tried to find a place to sit, where no one could look at me with pity. If the world is so big, there must be a place for me too, I thought bitterly.
I sat on a ledge, looking at the snowy peak. That would become my refuge. The brutal effort of the climb was the fair price to stay away from anyone. "Vajra..." I repeated to myself. What was that force mentioned by Kael? A technique? A spell? Whatever it was, it had made Theo's body strong. If that was the power needed to survive in this world, I was cut off from it. I clenched my fist, feeling the helplessness burn inside me.
It was in that moment that I felt something on my wrist. The bracelet. Szilard had left it to me without explanation. It had always been inert, a piece of old leather. But up there, for the first time, it vibrated. An intense tingling rose up my arm, forcing me to massage it. It wasn't pain. It was... something more like a signal. A answer to my silent question. As if the object were reacting to something, or perhaps to my own loneliness, to give me comfort.
I looked at the horizon, seeing the entire plain below. The Stahl mansion, the field, and beyond stretched the Citadel of Tia. I had found my safe place. And perhaps, I had found something more.