Chapter 17:

  They reached the gates as the city stirred awake. Chickens clucked, dogs barked, shutters banged open. Whispers followed them through the town as Eli carried Aria on his back.

  “There’s the young lord. He’s with that butcher’s girl again.” This sentiment and similar like it were easily picked up by Eli as he made his way swiftly towards the keep. Even though there were few people out this early, those who were didn’t fail to take notice of their young lord and his companion.

  Aria clung tighter, burying her face. Eli carried her steady, unbothered, until they passed beneath the keep walls. The guards on duty a mix of exasperation, relief and apprehension. Though it was clear the shifts had changed since his breaking-and-exiting, it was the collective responsibility of the House Rodrigo retainers to safeguard the family, and they had all failed in their duties when Eli had slipped out under their watch. He promised himself he would make it up to them as he slipped by.

  ~

  Once they had made it to the practice yard, Eli set Aria down. Then he crossed to the well, hauled up a bucket of water and poured it over his head. Relief overcame him as the exertions of the night were sluiced away under the frigid stream. Sure, he had cleaned up some at the lodge, but he was in a hurry then, and had been until the moment he entered the training grounds. Even his detour to the butcher’s had been more abrupt than he’d intended, but his haste was rewarded as he watched Kara enter the grounds.

  He had made it in time for training, and so although his parents would undoubtedly scold him for sneaking out, he would not be reprimanded for dereliction of duty.

  Eli made his way back to Aria’s side where she was at the edge of the training ground. Kara moved into position behind him, quiet and composed, saying nothing as she took up the traditional guard position while they waited for the Lord Rodrigo to begin the practice. Eli knew his father wouldn’t always be the one conducting these training sessions now that he had added evening training to both of their schedules, but he would be glad to take as much of his father’s instruction as he could get.

  “You’re strong,” Aria said softly, as he handed her a cup of chilled water.

  Eli gave her a half smile before taking a sip from his own cup. He swished the water around his mouth a bit and took another long sip before he answered her unspoken inquiry. “I do training. I could be stronger, though I am working on it,” he said. He gazed out at the training yard as he lost himself in thought.

  Aria’s eyes shifted to Kara. After a while she spoke again. “She’s strong too.”

  “She is,” Eli agreed with a nod.

  The words tumbled out before Aria could stop them. “I want to be strong like you.”

  Eli turned to her, gaze steady. He stepped close, took her hand, and pressed it against her chest.

  “You’re strong here,” he said. “That’s truly special Ari. So special.”

  “Strong here?” Aria patted her own chest, her hand still in his, and frowned.

  “There is more than just one kind of strength. Many people are strong in the body. It’s a simple kind of strength. Being strong inside though, like you?” Eli looked Aria in the eyes and just shook his head. “Special,” he said. Then he pulled his hand away and once more turned to face the training yard.

  The small group fell into silence for a while before Aria spoke up once more. Her voice was quiet but resolute. “If I am strong inside, can I be strong outside too?”

  Eli laughed, but it was a kind thing. “I think you could be very strong if you wanted to be. With the right training?” Eli’s voice drifted off into memory. Aria had been remarkable to watch. A true terror on the battlefield. Not only was she probably the most powerful reservoir he had ever known, but her combat strength was a thing of literal legends. They had called her the Iron Wellspring, and for good reason.

  “Eli,” it was the first time she’d called him by his nickname. No qualifiers, no extended honours, just, Eli. She had his full attention. “If I wanted to try; to learn to be strong. Would you help me?” The request came out in a whisper. She was terrified but resolute. Eli was speaking before the thoughts had fully coalesced in his head.

  “Kara, have you ever trained anyone?” He asked.

  “I have not, young lord.”

  “Well, it looks like you will both be learning something new.” He stepped back and gestured to each of them in turn. “Aria, Kara. Kara, Aria, your new recruit.

  “My mother says to teach is to learn. She’s the smartest person I know, so I believe her.”

  Kara hesitated, side-eyeing Aria. At last, she dipped her head. “As you command, young lord.”

  Aria’s breath caught. This was happening. Gabriel arrived shortly after; he only gave Eli a brief knowing glance before diving straight into training.

  After they’d warmed up Aria and Eli split for separate instruction.

  Aria’s first lesson began with breathwork. Kara set her feet, showed her how to draw air in slow and steady, how to exhale with control. Then stance: weight balanced, half in profile, core stable. Kara moved her arms into place, nudged her feet until they aligned, had her move forward, then reset when she inevitably lost position.

  “Again,” Kara said.

  Aria tried to mirror her. The stance collapsed.

  “Again.”

  After a sufficient number of failures, they moved to falling drills. Kara dropped smoothly, rolling to her feet, brushing dust away. Aria copied, stumbled, and hit the dirt. She pushed up, tried again, and fell harder the second time. By the third, her legs tangled, and she stayed where she landed, eyes shut tight against the grit in her lashes.

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  Kara crouched beside her, but her gaze was on the other side of the field where the lord Rodrigo and his heir were sparring at half speed. “He’s amazing, isn’t he?”

  Aria opened her eyes, her face already turned toward Eli. Her voice was low as she spoke. “We’re the same age, but he’s so far away.”

  “You know the most amazing thing I’ve noticed about our young lord? It is not that I have never seen him fall, it is that I have never seen him stay down.”

  Aria’s eyes flicked down, then back up towards the other half of the grounds. There Eli was across the yard, his stance was firm as his father corrected him. Lord Rodrigo did not need to say a word, merely tap on a part of his body, or make a gesture before Eli would automatically adjust. One of Aria’s earliest memories was of going to the annual awakening festival in town with her mother. Some of the traveling troupes had performances that the common people could watch. She remembered being in awe of how seamlessly the performers moved through their routines. They never said a word, and yet each person knew exactly where to be and when. Watching Eli and his father was sort of like watching one of those well choreographed scenes.

  Lord Rodrigo had simply tapped his son’s shoulder and made a gesture, and Eli responded by slowly rotating and resetting. He was obviously doing what his father had silently asked of him as Lord Gabriel studied him intently shaking his head or nodding each time his son moved. Eli repeated the motion until his father tapped him again, and then they both reset to spar once more.

  Eli’s exertion was visible. His shirt clung to his body, and perspiration beaded on his temples as he sweated through his clothes. His small frame heaved with controlled breaths, every movement exacting as he faced the bigger, stronger, much more skilled opponent. However, his face revealed none of that exertion. His expression remained set with unyielding determination as he and his father once more shifted into motion.

  Aria let out a deep breath, feeling as her body sank further into the ground on the exhale. Then she rolled to her feet, brushing dirt from her tunic as she stood. “Let’s go again.”

  ~

  By the end of their session, Eli was a disheveled, exhausted, sweaty mess. His father had been silent, exacting, and ruthless. The entire lesson he had said nothing. Now that the lesson was over, he maintained his silence.

  The Lord Rodrigo was not a man prone to excessive verbosity, but it was obvious in this instance that this silence was hiding a number of unspoken words as his impassive gaze swept over his son. Lord Gabriel noted the sweat-soaked tunic, flushed cheeks, and the person shaped additional appendage that seemed to have attached herself to his son. The butcher’s girl had somehow worked her way into the lessons. She had been a determined participant during the training, but now that it was over she had reverted back to using Eli as a shield and attempting to blend into the scenery.

  He said nothing. Instead, he gestured for the group to follow him to the training yard well. On a small table beside the well were wooden drinking cups like the ones Eli had used before the lesson. Once both Kara and Aria had a cupful of water from the bucket Eli hauled up, Gabriel dropped the bucked back down into the well. This time Eli’s father was the one to haul up a bucket of frigid water. Before he could react, Gabriel had unceremoniously doused his son with it.

  The yard went silent. Even the wind seemed to still as Eli stood still in the aftermath. The only sounds were the drip-dripping of water as it trailed off from Eli and onto the training yard grounds, and the ominous sound of the bucket once more dropping into the well.

  The action had been so out of character, and unexpected that Eli had not even considered bracing before Gabriel had hauled up a second bucket and poured this one too over his son. Then the bucket descended a third time, and Eli was doused again.

  The initial chill sent shockwaves through Eli’s body, and while he could use body enhancement magic to mitigate the symptoms, he chose to endure. The largest, but not only reason being because his father was sensitive to mana fluctuations despite only being a reservoir, and Eli was not interested in further antagonizing the man. Gabriel did not speak, and Eli did not complain, and they both just stood staring out into the early morning light.

  Eli took a moment to really look at the training grounds. There were new dummies that had been set out. The racks of practice weapons showed signs of recent repair and polishing. The Lord and Lady’s private training grounds were never in disrepair, but they were not wasteful enough to discard or replace items more often than maintenance demanded. Despite this, it was clear that very recent care had been taken. Even the accursed Gauntlet had been updated; obviously worn sections had been pulled and replaced or repaired. There were even some newly implemented obstacles that Eli had never seen before and began to hope were actually just figments of his imagination.

  Eli chanced a glance at his father but quickly pulled his eyes away once more. The man was in his own training clothes – a warped-mirror reflection of Eli’s own outfit. Unlike Eli, the older man had survived the training session looking mostly as pristine as he had been at the beginning. There were no streaks of dirt from falling, no sweat dampened clothing sticking to his imposing frame. Even the droplets of water from the earlier dousing hadn’t affected his appearance. It was as if he and the stray droplets of water had mutually agreed that they would simply avoid his clothing.

  As Eli looked at his father, and his father looked back, neither of them needed to say anything for him to understand. Then, still silent, Gabriel gestured once. It was a sharp, simple beckoning command. Eli followed him back into the keep without complaint. He kept his eyes trained ahead of him and tried not to think about the way his body was feeling in the cold, damp clothes. Instead, he set his mind to contemplating exactly what had transpired just as he trailed behind his father. Aria and Kara trailing behind him in the motliest procession the keep had probably ever had the embarrassment of hosting.

  Eli had never been a father in his first life. By the time he’d had any interest, the only woman he had ever seriously considered sharing the privilege with was out of his reach. Then of course there were the civil wars, and the Great Betrayal, and the genocidal aliens followed by his extremely timely end. His lip twitched at his own terrible pun before his mind refocused on the moment.

  Having never had children of his own Eli had no real frame of reference for what it felt like to be a father. But he did know what it felt like to be disappointed by someone he loved. Disappointed in a way that hurt more than mere sadness. It was a different kind of ache, and with it came a feeling of betrayal entirely too esoteric to really pinpoint. Eli recognized the look in his father’s eyes, and he was beyond remorseful that he had been the one to put it there.

  Eli would not apologize for what he had done. He did not think he was wrong to leave the keep that night. In fact, he knew that it was necessary, and that if there were another way he could do what needed to be done without breaking his parents’ trust, he would have done that instead. However, what he had done and how he had done it were two different things.

  He was entirely more remorseful that his own hubris had gotten him caught than he was about the actual act of leaving the keep. He knew he had been hasty. He knew that his actions had partially been dictated by his feelings. He had been unconsciously chafing so hard at the restrictions of his age, his station, and the myriad expectations that knowingly or unknowingly had been placed on him that he had made completely avoidable errors. The miscalculations were a result of juvenile oversights and were completely unacceptable.

  This time his rash actions had ended up hurting the people he loved. That was bad enough, but next time his failures could have even more dire consequences. He couldn’t afford to be making such pedestrian errors. He had vowed to himself that he would do better, be better this time around, and so far, he had disappointed not just his parents but himself as well. While he was positive he could massively increase his strength, knowledge, and magic, he hadn't truly paid much attention to what it meant to be a better son, a better leader, a better person.

  That simply wouldn't do.

  He needed to truly commit to progress in all areas, and the only way to do that would be to do it. A failure like this was more than just avoidable, it was embarrassing. However, he knew that so long as he was fallible, failure was inevitable. The trick to eventual success was to make sure he did not fail the same way twice.