Jiggan and his friends took Teerom to a park nearby, though it was more of a field. Aywa and Aleed climbed a tree, sitting together on a branch and watching Baluchta gauging Teerom's talents.
"Have you ever held a sword, Teerom?" She asked, unsheathing the sword on her right hip – she was left-handed - and handing it to Teerom; she held it by the blade with her thick gloves, though that wasn't their original purpose.
"N-No." Teerom hesitantly grabbed the sword's hilt. Immediately, it dragged his arms down and lodged into the ground. Baluchta watched as Teerom embarrassingly tried to pull it out of the ground with all his might.
"Leia, Jiggan, you need to fatten this kid up." She turned to Jiggan who leaned against a tree coolly.
"I know." He replied, sighing.
"If he can't lift a sword, then what about a gun?" Aywa jumped down from the tree, excited, and drew his two pistols (they look like steampunk, brown and green guns with Fire runestones glowing in a chamber at the back).
Teerom gave up on lifting the sword, letting Baluchta dislodge it with ease, spin it casually, and sheath it.
"Try them," Aywa handed the panting Teerom his pistols. "Just aim and shoot. Easy, right?" He smiled with warmth, giving Teerom the impression that he was telling the truth.
When Teerom pulled the triggers, instead of shooting a deadly steel bullet covered in fire forward, the pistols' recoil blasted Teerom backward, flipping him and making him fall on his face with his feet over and in front of him. If flexibility was the goal of his training, he'd just succeeded with flying colours.
"I guess not." Aywa retreated, letting Aleed take over and stand Teerom up.
"You're a fan of Aneros, right?" Aleed asked, sparking a sudden interest from Teerom.
"Yeah! Are you?"
"Not really,"
"Oh,"
An out-of-place silence ensued.
"Wanna learn magic?" Aleed walked a few paces from Teerom and sat down on the grass.
"I can't use cool magic though." Teerom gloomily said, staring at his hands and body that could at most yield low-level Protection Magic.
"You don't have a magic type?" Aleed asked.
"Nope. I'm barely an Enhancer Type." He sighed. The majority of the world is composed of Enhancer Magic users; it's both the most common and one of the weakest forms of Magic as these people can't even use high-level versions of it.
"Are you best at Protection magic?"
Teerom nodded.
"Hm," Aleed looked smugly at Jiggan, who returned a proud smile, "You're just like Jiggan."
Suddenly, Jiggan exited his stance of leaning on the tree and began walking over to them. "If these doofuses can't teach you, then I guess I'll have to. What do you say?" He crossed his arms and smirked at Teerom, who nodded with excitement. He turned to the others and instructed them, "I want you guys to spar with him after we're done."
Jiggan was much more hands-on with his training than the others; they were about to watch as he threw Teerom around for the next hour and a half.
"Alright, charge me." Jiggan crouched slightly with his hands facing Teerom, who contemplatingly stood there, staring with great anxiety at the contrastingly huge man before him. "We haven't got all day, bud. Seima's waiting for us." Jiggan's purposeful mention of Seima sparked sudden courage within Teerom as it reminded him of the reason he was doing this in the first place. For his little sister.
After taking a quick step back, Teerom boldly bolted forward, impressing the others with his speed and bravery. But when he reached Jiggan and threw a punch, Jiggan grabbed his forearm and escorted him to fall forwards, moving out of the way as he did so.
Coughing and spitting to get the dirty grass out of his mouth, Teerom jumped back up to his feet and challenged Jiggan again after a quick complaint. Jiggan smirked as he sprinted at him, resetting into his crouched stance with his hands out; the same thing happened, except he flipped Teerom twice over his head before throwing him away.
"Leia, go easy on the kid, will you?" Aywa said.
"You call this teaching, Jiggan?" Aleed asked mockingly.
"You'll see," Jiggan said, confident in Teerom.
For about 10 minutes, Teerom continued blindly charging Jiggan and throwing flimsy punches, frustratedly asking himself 'Why don't my punches get through?'. However, it was Jiggan's calm, collected, and observing eyes as he ran at him for the 12th time that made him realize exactly what he was doing wrong.
With newfound confidence, he rose from the ground, his nose bloody and arms bruised, and faced Jiggan for yet another challenge.
"You finally figured it out, eh?" Jiggan smiled and resumed a defensive stance. This time, his muscles bulged and he began using Protection Magic.
Teerom nodded in reply, "And you're finally getting serious." He began with a walk instead of a run.
"Boy, if I was serious, your head would be way over there by now." Jiggan chuckled. Teerom returned a nervous giggle as he began to run. His thoughts were racing along with his heart, not from fear, but excitement.
'Fighting is like a conversation. I got this.' Teerom raced forward fearlessly and threw the same punch as all the other times, disappointing Jiggan, who moved forward to grab him again.
But instead of grabbing Teerom's forearm, Jiggan's hand grazed his hair as he swished – with Strength Magic - around him and jumped onto his back, wrapping his arms around his neck.
"Gotcha," Those words made Jiggan laugh.
"Good job, you little bastard." He turned to Teerom and aggressively petted him after he hopped off his back.
"I wanna learn more!" Teerom hopped ecstatically, subconsciously ignoring the pain he was in.
"No," Jiggan acknowledged his injuries, "That's enough for today. Let's go back home. I'll teach you how to steal tomorrow."
"I did well though, right?"
After a moment of cool hesitation, Jiggan answered proudly, "You did great."
"Ya-hoo!" Teerom jumped goofily, making the others burst out into laughter.
"He's nothing like you, Jiggan," Baluchta said.
Back home, Seima had just managed to sit up after ten minutes of struggling. She listened to the quiet room she had been trapped in since she was 4 years old; the sound of dust falling was the only significant noise here.
She took a great sigh after an onslaught of coughing that indicated nothing less than a worsening condition.
She had awoken from a long nap a few hours ago, however, her illness prevented her from doing naught but laying and occasionally, like now, sitting on her small bed.
Outside the window she could hear the murmurs of two women, who both had rough dialects, gossiping about a certain rumor that the Moon Church was planning to purge Rukae. Seima paid no attention to the contents of their conversation as she was overwhelmed by envy for the two women outside.
"Sei!" She heard Teerom shout in a panic as he bolted through the front door and then her door, "Sorry! You must be thirsty." He ran into the living room, to the sink next to the cooking appliances in the corner, and filled a cup with water to the brim, bringing it to Seima.
"I wasn't *that* thirsty, but thanks, Tee," She replied accepting the cup and taking small sips.
The numerous and heavy footsteps of Jiggan and his friends caught her attention.
"Oi, Oi, she hasn't changed a bit either," Aywa commented; his reaction, contrasted to his reaction to Teerom's skinny stature, was full of worry.
"What's wrong with her? Is she ill?" Baluchta queried.
"Presyleis. It's a parasite." Jiggan answered grimly. "The doctor could diagnose her but not heal her unless we pay a Healing fee. Fucking cunt."
"Rich motherfucker." Aleed agreed; he, especially, had a deep hatred for the nobility that held little care for human lives as long as their profit margins were met. (most doctors are nobles)
"You should've given him a good thrashing," Aywa said.
"I did," Jiggan replied, running his hand through his hair coolly, which Teerom tried to mimic. "We tried cheaper doctors and we found a price of 75 gold coins and 20 silver."
"75 gold coins!" The others exclaimed.
"And how much have you got?"
"3 gold coins." Jiggan's answer was accompanied by gloom upon his and Teerom's faces. The greater gloom resided in Seima's dreading face.
"That must be horrible…" Baluchta took the seat next to Seima and caressed her cheek affectionately.
"Jiggan, I don't understand why you didn't call us for help," Aleed placed his forehead on two fingers pensively and frustratedly.
"After what I did to Galavv, I thought none of you wanted anything to do with me," Jiggan guiltily answered.
"Now that you mention it, Jiggan. We've all wanted to apologize to you since then." Aywa walked over to him with a serious and sorrowful expression.
"You weren't the dickhead. We were." Baluchta and Aleed joined Aywa. "We're sorry, Jiggan." The three were on the verge of tears; Jiggan, for the second time in Teerom's experience, too was shedding tears.
They needed no hug, just the comfort of each other's presence after 6 long years.
"Teerom!" Jiggan snapped back to normal.
"Y-yeah?" Teerom stood straight like a soldier.
"Tomorrow you become one of us. You ready?"
"I was born ready!" Teerom grinned.
"Bro really just said 'I was born ready'" Aywa chortled.
"What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing, don't worry…" He held his breath with a big goofy smile on his face, "Drake the type of guy to-" He broke out into uncontrollable laughter, making Teerom frustratedly pout.
"To Teerom." Baluchta cheered quietly.
"To Teerom!" They all reciprocated, Aywa still laughing.