Hill was the first to intervene. And guide the king to the training hall.
The King made his way to the training room. It was shocking that the shrine possessed its training hall.
Maybe because they didn't have a god. The shrine was like a club?
Garima was about to follow when Agatha quietly touched her sleeves.
"You cannot train like this." She said "come with me"
Garima didn't argue.
The room Agatha led her to was small. A small wooden chest beside the shelf. It looked like a store room. Unused.
Agatha opened the chest.
Inside—folded carefully were sets of training clothes. Not robes. Dark fabrics.
Garima picked it up. She felt the weight.
"This is yours?" She asked
Agatha nodded "you have to fold the pants a little" she said "maybe tie up the top too."
Garima ignored it.
"You train?"
"Used to" Agatha said.
Garima glanced at her "used to?"
"Yes"
"With a sword?" Garima asked.
"Yes"
"Why stop?"
Agatha didn't answer immediately. Them—
"Somethings demand more than you give, and then you don't have anything to give anymore"
Garima held her gaze. Then nodded. She didn't probe. Agatha would tell her when she is ready.
Agatha went out as she started changing.
The top or tunic was supposed to fit at the arms but were loose due to size difference. And a lot looser at the legs. Garima folded them and tied them up with clothes she tore from her robe. She tied her waist ties. It was still loose. She tore her robe completely and tied it around her tunic and pants. Reinforcing the knots.
She looked at the mirror. It was difficult to see in the large bronze mirror. But still it was the same everywhere. They only had bronze ones. Maybe silver was costly here too.
Garima walked out.
The training hall had to be cleared. With weapons laid out. The king stood relaxed. As if it was entertainment. Beside him duke Ruslan waiting.
"Ah such an unusual way to dress" King Cirius smiled when he saw her "Though it suits you"
"Thankyou" Garima said "it's an honour, you personally came here"
"Oh, I can take a break too" He said "There are others who can manage for one day"
"As I said" Garima said "it's an honour"
"Besides no better time" he smiled "I can judge you with my own eyes"
"Sure" she said "your majesty"
"Start" he ordered
"Yes," Ruslan bowed "your majesty"
Then stepped forward with a wooden sword. Garima picked one too.
"I am not here to entertain your title" he said plainly "this is more than just game of words"
Garima met his eyes
"Then don't hold back" she said.
And he moved. Fast and direct. A strike.
Garima reacted on instinct. Her body remembered before her mind did.
Her hand curved to block but she redirected it. Soft. Flowy. Like a dance.
Ruslan paused for a second. Brows narrowing.
The next blow came harder. She tried to adjust. But could only remember fragmented memories. Her balance slipped. Her form incomplete. The hit landed on her shoulder. The pain was sharp.
"Aaahhh" she let out a scream. But stood her ground.
"You have a form" he said "but no discipline behind it"
Garima breath tightened. She knew.
He continued "expect no mercy from me"
The difference was immediate. The second hit landed before she could reset her stance.
Pain flared across her side. She staggered.
Ruslan didn't slow down. Nor did he let her catch breath.
He struck again. Garima blocked it with luck. But her hand shook at the impact. Her movements broken. Some were soft and some were without balance. Nothing connected.
"You look like you are performing" Ruslan mocked "Not fighting"
Garima ignored him. Then Another strike.
Her knee buckled. She caught herself barely.
She tried to breath. Tried to remember. But her body was not used to it.
The next blow knocked the air out of her. She dropped to one knee.
She pulled herself up. "Again!" She whispered.
Another strike. She couldn't block it. Skin split along her forearm. A sharp, stinging burn. Then the smell of blood filled her nose.
Her breath hitched. A sound escaped her mouth. Half breath-Half grasp.
She moved again for a strike. Her form collapsed completely. She stumbled. And fell.
For a moment she didn't get up. Her vision blurred. Her arms felt heavy. Her chest tightened. Her throat burned.
Garima pushed herself up again. Because if she didn't she would break. And she knew she couldn't afford to. This was her choice to come here. Her choice to fight. Her choice to save them.
"..ain" her voice broke.
Across the training hall. Ava had stopped breathing.
Dylan had taken a step forward only to be stopped by Zihan.
"Don't" he said quietly.
Agatha stood rigid. A nd Hill stood with a stiff face.
Ruslan stepped forward again.
Garima raised the wooden sword. Her hands shaking. And she collapsed.
Dylan didn't wait anymore. He ran faster and kneeled. He pulled Garima in his arms.
Ava and Zihan followed, bowing to the king.
"Your Majesty" Hill bowed "Allow us to carry her inside"
"The test should be finished" Agatha bowed too "your majesty"
The king watched, no longer smiling.
He nodded.
The training hall emptied slowly.
Garima had been taken inside. Dylan hurried carrying her. Agatha and Ava followed.
Zihan lingered for sometime.
Hill stayed the longest.
Only the two remained. Ruslan and Cirius the king. The guards were stationed outside the shrine.
The king stood where he had been standing the entire time. Hands behind his back. Gaze fixed in the floor. On the faint traces of blood.
Ruslan bowed
"Your majesty" he said flatly. "She is not ready, not for war. Not for command. Not for the responsibility she claims"
The king exhaled slowly. "I know"
Ruslan frowned. This was not the answer he expected.
"She lacks discipline," Ruslan continued. "Her form is fractured. Whatever she learned– it was abandoned halfway"
A pause
"She would die"
The king tilted his head. "Most would"
Ruslan looked at him "That's not the point"
"No" the king agreed quietly "it isn't"
The King stepped forward. Looked at Ruslan straight
"She stood"
Ruslan didn't respond
"She should not have" the king continued "by the third strike, most trained soldiers hesitate. By the fifth they look for escape"
He paused.
"She did neither"
Ruslan's expression didn't change. His attention sharpened.
"She doesn't understand the pain yet," he said.
The king smiled slightly.
"No" he said "she understands it very well"
A beat.
"She refused to acknowledge it"
That made Ruslan go still.
"You were trying to break her"
"Yes," he replied
"You couldn't"
Ruslan's jaws tightened.
"She bent." The king continued "Badly"
He took another step closer.
"She didn't break"
Ruslan didn't argue. Because that part was true.
"Her foundation is hollowed" Ruslan said instead "what ever she is building—it will fall"
"Ofcourse it will"the king said easily.
Ruslan blinked.
"She is building–while standing on it" the king added "That always falls—first"
He said softer. "And yet, she didn't give up"
His gaze drifted to the doorway she had been taken through.
"She is desperate," he continued, "so she will learn faster. Why is she so frantic, that is still a mystery"
The king stopped as if thinking deeply.
Ruslan exhaled slowly.
"Your majesty" he said in a measured tone. " She will not survive refinement" he said.
The king nodded "then don't refine her"
Ruslan looked confused.the king smiled.
"Shape her" he said. "She has the potential to shape herself too"
A smile followed.
"It's a dangerous thought, but still I couldn't help but be excited"
Ruslan didn't say anything.
King Cirius turned "we should leave now"
But stopped.
"One more thing" he said "That form she uses"
He slightly looked back.
"Find out where it comes from"
Ruslan
frowned.
"It's incomplete"
"Yes" the king smiled "Its still dangerous"
He walked out of the training hall.Ruslan followed.
Still pondering about what the king told.
"Incomplete" he muttered
He added slowly
"Still dangerous, I will have to see it myself"