We remember the lessons that cost us the most.
Last Touches
I sat by the window, the cocoa warming my hands as I watched the chaos unfold outside. Edie had taken Mose's training into his own... creative hands. Olie stood to the side, arms crossed, offering the occasional correction, but it was clear Edie was running the show. Poor Mose looked like he was fighting for his very existence.
"DODGE!" Olie's voice rang out, loud enough to shake the leaves in the nearby trees. Edie lunged at Mose with a stick that had no business being that sharp, moving with the agility of someone who clearly enjoyed tormenting their trainees.
Mose yelped, diving sideways into a clumsy roll that ended with him flat on his back. "This isn't training! This is attempted murder!" he cried, scrambling to his feet just in time to avoid another swing.
"You think your enemies are going to ask for your permission before attacking?" Olie retorted while Edie was swinging the stick again with alarming precision. "MOVE!"
Olie sighed, clearly unimpressed. "Mose, if you stop yelling and start paying attention, you might actually survive."
Mose muttered something under his breath but managed to block Edie's next attack with his training blade. The impact sent him stumbling backward, his boots skidding in the dirt. "Why are you like this?" he demanded, his voice breaking slightly as Edie advanced on him like a predator toying with his prey.
"Because I care," Edie replied with a friendly smile, spinning his stick like it was an extension of himself. "Now stop whining and counterattack, or I'll start using my magic."
From my vantage point, it was both tragic and hilarious. Mose tried a tentative swing, which Edie batted away like it was nothing. He closed the distance in a flash, and Mose barely ducked in time to avoid a mock decapitation.
"He's going to kill him," Mazen said behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder, catching the bemused look on his face as he leaned against the doorway. "Nah," I said, taking a sip of cocoa. "Edie's good at stopping just before fatal injuries."
"And that reassures you?" Mazen asked, raising an eyebrow.
I shrugged. "Builds character."
Outside, Mose tripped over a root, landing flat on his face. Edie didn't even pause, his stick whistling through the air.
"ON YOUR FEET!" Olie barked, "IDIOT OF A MAGE!"
Mazen chuckled softly, shaking his head.
"I think they like Mose," I said smiling. "That's why they are being so... nurturing."
We both watched as Mose finally managed a halfway decent parry, prompting Edie to nod approvingly before promptly sweeping his legs out from under him. I couldn't help but laugh as Mose hit the ground again, groaning loud enough for me to hear through the window.
"See?" I said, gesturing with my mug. "Character."
Mazen sighed, but there was a faint smile on his lips as he stepped closer. "Speaking of which, the dark mages are ready. Livius is wrapping up the final touches. I think it's time to check Rolo's coordinates."
I tore my gaze from the scene outside, where Edie was now demanding Mose run laps around the clearing. "You're right," I said, setting the mug down. "Tomorrow, we'll scout it out. Rolo, you, and me."
Mazen nodded, his expression growing serious. "Good."
Mose was now sprinting in uneven circles, Edie chasing him with the stick like a relentless demon. It was the kind of chaos I could watch all day.
After finishing my cocoa and leaving Mazen to enjoy the spectacle outside, I made my way upstairs. The wooden stairs creaked faintly under my weight, the sound familiar and oddly comforting. I stopped in front of Berti's room and knocked sharply.
There was a rustling sound from within before the door creaked open. Berti stood there, looking slightly frazzled, a book still in his hand and his reading glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose. His room smelled faintly of old paper and ink, a sanctuary for someone who spent most of their time immersed in the written word.
"Ah, Shay," he said, his voice warm but cautious, as if unsure whether this was a social call or another task being foisted upon him.
"You've been reading all day again, haven't you?" I asked, glancing past him to the stacks of books piled on the desk, bed, and even the floor.
"Well... yes."
I didn't bother hiding my smirk. "Good. I need you to take a break and make some alcohol-free drinks for everyone. Something refreshing."
I waved him off and headed to the next door down the hall. This one was Alex's room, and even before knocking, I could hear the muffled sounds of training—heavy thuds, the scrape of metal, and the occasional grunt of exertion.
Knocking didn't feel necessary, so I simply pushed the door open. Alex barely glanced up, his focus entirely on his arm. His hand had morphed into razor-sharp claws, gleaming with an otherworldly sheen, while the rest of his body remained human.
The wooden dummy in front of him bore deep gashes, some splinters still hanging from the previous swipe. Sweat dripped from his brow, his shirt clinging to his back as he moved with both precision and ferocity. His room, in stark contrast to Berti's, was sparsely furnished, most of the space cleared for this exact kind of training.
"Alex," I said, stepping inside and leaning against the wall, watching as his clawed hand reverted back to its usual form. The transition was seamless, a testament to how much he'd been working on control.
He stopped, flexing his fingers as if testing them for residual strain. "Shay," he acknowledged, his breath coming in heavy bursts. "What do you need?"
"You've been in here all day," I said, eyeing the dummy that looked as if it had barely survived the ordeal. "Do you ever take a break?"
"I'll think about it," he said finally, though I could see the tension in his jaw.
"Berti's making drinks," I added, raising an eyebrow. "Non-alcoholic. If there's ever a perfect opportunity to take a break, this is it."
Alex paused, the clawed hand he'd been flexing slowly lowering. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to argue, but then he let out a breath, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Non-alcoholic, huh?" he said, shaking his head. "Fine. Just let me finish this set."
I nodded, pushing off the wall. "Good. You'll thank me later."
As I turned to leave, I couldn't resist throwing over my shoulder, "Don't make me drag you down there myself."
"Try it, and you'll lose a limb," Alex shot back, his tone light despite the threat.
I chuckled, shutting the door behind me. I headed toward Rolo's room next, half expecting him to be asleep again.
Pushing the door open, I was greeted by the chaotic sight of Rolo's workspace. His red hoodie was smeared with what I hoped was soot and not something more volatile, and his hair was sticking up in all directions, as though he'd run his hands through it one too many times. On the desk before him, glowing crystals hummed ominously, their faint auras casting eerie light across stacks of books, tools, and scraps of paper covered in frantic scribbles.
Rolo himself was hunched over a particularly intricate device, muttering to himself as he waved his hand over a rune, causing it to spark briefly before dying down.
"Ah, come on!" he growled, jabbing at the rune with a tiny tool. "Just stabilize already—you've got one job!"
I leaned casually against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "Talking to it doesn't usually help, you know."
Rolo jumped, nearly knocking over a precarious pile of enchanted components. He turned toward me, wide-eyed, before narrowing his gaze in mock indignation.
"Shay! Do you ever knock?"
"I could say the same about your sanity," I replied, smirking.
Rolo huffed, turning back to his work. "These are the last mines. They're smaller but more efficient. I've adjusted the magic flow. Do you know how long it took to perfect this?"
"Judging by the state of your room, I'd guess too long," I said, stepping inside to get a closer look.
He grinned, clearly ignoring the jab. "You'll thank me when they save your life out there."
I nodded, watching as he carefully etched another rune onto the surface of the mine. Despite his chaotic methods, Rolo's precision and focus were impressive.
"Just don't forget to sleep at some point," I said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Rolo gave me a distracted wave, already engrossed in his next adjustment. "Yeah, yeah, after I finish this one. Or maybe two. Or three..."
I shook my head, lingering at the door. "Berti's making drinks downstairs. Non-alcoholic, before you ask. You should come join us when you're done."
Rolo paused, looking up at me with a raised brow. "Drinks? What kind of drinks?"
"Something that won't explode," I said dryly, "though knowing Berti, it might still surprise us."
He smirked, wiping his hands on his robe. "Fine, fine. But don't let Alex drink all of it before I get there. I'll wrap this up soon. Probably."
"Don't keep us waiting too long," I said, stepping out and pulling the door closed behind me. Rolo's muffled muttering resumed almost instantly, and I couldn't help but smile. Whatever chaotic genius he was cooking up in there, it would be worth the wait.
After half an hour the living room was warm and buzzing with an easy harmonyas the four of us settled in. Alex leaned back on the couch, while Rolo bounced into the seat beside him, clearly having left his mad scientist energy behind with the mines upstairs.
Berti entered cautiously, carrying a tray of drinks with the steady hands of someone trying very hard not to mess up. His gaze darted between us nervously, and he fumbled slightly as he set the tray down.
"Careful there, Berti," Rolo teased, leaning forward to grab a glass. "You almost pulled off a disaster right there."
"I-I didn't drop anything," Berti protested, brushing invisible dust off his shirt.
I took a sip from my own glass, the taste catching me off guard with its surprising smoothness. It was sharp but sweet, with just enough bite to keep it interesting. I met Berti's gaze, and the slight tension in his shoulders relaxed when I gave him a nod of approval.
"Not bad at all," I said, genuinely impressed.
Rolo leaned back, glass in hand. "Definitely better than the first batch. Remember that one, Alex? The one that nearly made me sneeze fire?"
Alex's face twitched, a smirk breaking through his usually unreadable expression. "I still can't believe you drank it."
Berti's cheeks darkened, but he pressed on, lifting his own glass. "I-I'm learning, okay? I promise I won't blow up the house."
"Here's to that, then," I said, raising my glass to the room.
The easy atmosphere shattered like glass underfoot. Mose burst into the room, eyes wide with terror, pushing the backdoor behind him with every ounce of his strength as if some invisible force was trying to drag him outside. His breathing came in sharp, ragged gasps, his hands trembling as he struggled to keep the door shut.
"What the—Mose?" Alex jumped to his feet. "You alright, mate?"
Rolo darted to the side, eyes wide as he watched the scene unfold, and Berti froze, his drink slipping from his hands and shattering against the floor.
I narrowed my eyes and stepped forward. "Mose, what happened?"
The wooden frame rattled, and I could hear the muffled shouts from outside.
"Shay! Help!" Mose panted, half-collapsed against the door, his eyes darting around the room like a cornered animal.
Before I could ask what in the world was going on, the door burst open, and Edie and Olie stormed in. Edie's hair was sticking up at odd angles, and Olie was grinning like a maniac.
"Gotcha!" Edie shouted, grabbing Mose's arm before he could make a break for it.
Mose squirmed, trying to free himself. "No! I'm done! I can't take any more!"
"You're not even halfway through your training, Mose," Olie said, laughing, a wild glint in his eye. "We were just getting to the good part!"
Mose's eyes met mine, pleading. "Shay, tell them to let me go! I think I've been through enough for today."
I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow, fighting a grin.
Edie and Olie exchanged a look that screamed we're not sorry before Olie broke in with a laugh. "It's good for him! Tough training builds character, right, Edie?"
Edie nodded, smirking. "Exactly."
Mose's mouth opened and closed as he searched for a retort, but the exhaustion in his eyes won out. He slumped against the wall and groaned. "Next time, I'm training with Berti. At least he makes drinks, not obstacle courses of doom."
I chuckled, shaking my head. I turned to Berti, who was already starting to relax after the earlier scene. "Berti, make some more drinks. They look like they could use something to calm down."
Berti nodded quickly, his eyes flickering nervously to the trio as they argued over whose turn it was to help Mose up. "On it, Shay!" he said, rushing into the kitchen, his hands already reaching for the drink ingredients.
"End don't forget to clean that up and buy me a new glass," I added pointing to the wet puddle of glass on my carpet.
"Ugh, okay."
Mose shot me a look of pure gratitude. "Thank you, Shay. You're a lifesaver."
I smirked and leaned back in my chair, watching the chaos. "Don't get too comfortable. You're back on the training grounds tomorrow."
Mose made a face like someone who didn't want tomorrow to ever come.