Gabriel walked through the long corridor; the weight of the bucket of water and the mop in his hands made him stumble whenever a worker passed by, sending him a respectful nod.
His nose was now clean, stuffed with two little pieces of cotton that Jayce gave him. He couldn't help but hurry himself to the young master's room; the state in which it was made the simple memory of it let out a dull pand inside his head.
'Come to think of it...'
He remembered the little gossip he had overheard from his younger colleague, something about the young master being sent to meet his father.
With shaky hands that clumsily held onto the bucket full of water, he raised his hand and turned on the pulseband with a mere thought, the screens flickering in front of his very eyes.
'I should inform young master about-'
The second the thought escaped his mind, he felt something behind him stir.
He didn't have time to look back, only feeling the breeze brush past his cheek with a sharp, hollow whistle.
Gabriel's hair got pulled back, his clothes flapped over his body, turning rugged and disheveled like his expression. It was as if he had seen a wraith rushing past him at unimaginable speeds; the white figure was but a flash in his old eyes, yet he still managed to capture the outline of a dark figure being carried by the very winds.
***
Vlad tried to keep his eyes open, but the violent gust of wind made his entire face sting with cold pain. His hands flailed around aimlessly, with nothing to hold onto or keep himself steady.
The man's grip over his collar deepened as his long fingers briefly grazed Vlad's neck, carrying him at speeds he could only dream of achieving, then a shadow passed them, and another. People were clearly stumped by what was happening; they probably couldn't even picture someone doing something like this in broad daylight.
But it was the man's next words that made Vlad's eyes go dim.
"Hold tight!"
At that moment, everything came to a stop.
Then a sound of breaking glass followed.
And the gravity left them soon after.
'I-I think I'm going to-'
Bright light flashed all around them, the warm sun bathing them in its sunlight, was the only thing Vlad could focus on as he tried to hold back something from coming up his throat.
Cold winds came from below, while warm sun sat on the skies above. The only thing that separated the two was a tall wall of pristine white marble that kept flashing in his eyes.
He swallowed, not caring about which way it would go next, and screamed even though the snapping of their clothes drowned his every word towards the man.
It seemed that they would never stop, no matter what he did to protest against it, the white-haired man either ignored his roars or simply couldn't hear him with the wind blocking his ears. Everything was starting to turn blurry, as a whirlpool in his mind, the sky and wall of infinite marble spun together, mixing with each other, and becoming a strange mix that made him want to empty his stomach until nothing was left.
And yet, less than a minute later, they started to lose speed at an unnaturally fast pace than the laws of physics allowed them to. Vlad, who couldn't even move his limbs properly, managed to register a picture of the ground below his feet, but still not on it.
His body, which was suspended in the air, slowly fell as if held by an invisible hand.
The only thing seen above him was his spasming body and unfocused eyes.
"Ouch," Cesar said from above, his fingers covering his eyes that gazed down at Vlad's lifeless body. "I might have overdone it this time."
A muffled groan came from under Vlad's face, which was glued to the polished wooden floor.
Cesar looked down at him with an unreadable expression and sighed, turning around.
"I guess you chickened out in the end after all..."
- Slap!
He looked back, and a grin formed over his ugly mug.
Vlad's palm hit the floor loud enough to make it echo across the gym and wake his barely working mind.
'Bastard...'
He gasped for air, looking around with weary eyes.
They were now on the training grounds, their surroundings filled with nothing but heavy metal equipment and tools used for sparring. He let out a sharp wheeze as he stared at the ceiling, which looked back in the form of a blaring, straight lamp screwed tightly to the marble ceiling.
Thankfully, the floor was made of sturdy wooden planks that brought relief whenever Vlad came in contact with them. This citadel, which he lived in for a couple of years, was made of nothing but an enormous mountain of blindingly white and smooth marble.
He had to agree, it was a great material. It was tougher than the strongest reinforced steel one could find, with capabilities greatly above what one would consider perfect.
In exchange, however, every little corner had to be built out of the same white material that people quickly got sick of.
'Why did I even move here...'
"Did your mind finally calm down?" Cesar asked from the side in a half-teasing manner as he threw a piece of paper towards a trash bin in the far corner of the room. The piece of trash cut a perfect arc through the air and landed right in the middle of a small hole in the lid that was supposed to be pulled to open the bin.
'Show-off'
Vlad took a deep breath, then turned around to where countless practice weapons were placed on weapon racks. "Somewhat."
He pushed himself up, steadying his barely conscious legs that staggered towards the weapon rack. Each step made a new wave of relief wash over him, as the pain in his legs subsided and he could finally feel them to some extent.
Vlad looked back at Cesar, who stared back at him and waved with a stupid smile.
'I don't even want to fight.'
And yet he still took a weapon.
"I'm ready."
He spoke as he walked back to Cesar, standing a few steps away.
"Finally!"
Cesar screamed like a little girl, which was weird, considering that he looked like a soldier who tasted his own blood more times than one needed to.
'Crazy battle maniac'
His job was to be Vlad's instructor and nurture his fighting skills and improve his overall ability to adapt to anything that involves the rift's ecosystem so that one day, he might be able to finally enter the rift and become a great delver like his family.
People come from different places, be it the streets, the citadels, or even the rift that tempered everyone in its own ways.
To Vlad's luck or maybe misfortune, Cesar came from places of constant battle; his mind was different than that of a regular delver who would have cautiously taught him how to defend himself and explore the depths of the rift.
All he actually cared about was an opponent that could satisfy his lofty desires.
- Swish
Or at least that's what it looked like for Vlad. He himself had yet to understand what was going on in that empty shell of a head Cesar had glued to his neck.
"Oh?"
Cesar exclaimed in surprise, his mind falling in though while rubbing his chin.
His eyes were now focused on Vlad's hands that moved up to his chin, and his body, which took on a strange stance.
"Right, yes, that's good, very good."
Cesar mumbled to himself, then lifted one of his hands in the air.
The atmosphere around him changed as the space over his palm distorted and turned tangible. From underneath his shirt, a faint golden light formed at the left side of his chest from which tiny threads started to form. They crawled over his body, towards his hand, while around his elbow, with some of them colliding and turning into thicker, stronger threads.
It wasn't until they finally passed his wrist that something finally happened.
A sword made of dark crystal had appeared within his grip, its blade reflecting the weak light of the lamps that flickered under the change of surroundings.
It wasn't long, with its blade probably around fifty to sixty centimeters in length and a short hilt that fit his palm perfectly.
The hilt was thin, like a stick one would find in a park. Dark leather was wrapped around it, going up to the guard, which, unlike a regular sword, started with protruding shards of pale crystal, two spikes to be exact. A third spike was growing from it, the longest one that worked as the blade with which Vlad was familiar way more than needed.
'At least use a weaker weapon.'
Vlad snickered before looking at the brass knuckles he had chosen, the ones that he hadn't tried yet in a fight.
They weren't big, just pointing from his hand at half a fingers lenght. Made of dark metal found at the outskirts of the rift, they were a perfect practice weapon that one could buy in the citadel.
"Can you stand still?"
Vlad suddenly spoke up while shifting the brass knuckles in his hands.
Cesar looked at him, raising his brow as if not expecting such an arrogant request. Then he smirked as a new idea popped into his head.
"Why?" His smile widened with clear excitement.
"Did the young master title get to your hea-!"
He tried to taunt him, but was stopped immediately by an incoming sucker punch. His sword flew from the side like an arrow, deflecting his fist upwards.
"You've talked enough."
Vlad hopped back, resuming his stance at a safer distance.
A vein popped up on his forehead, as he soon side-stepped and threw another blow.