Chereads / A slave's limits to magic / Chapter 4 - Chapter 4: Beneath the Chains

Chapter 4 - Chapter 4: Beneath the Chains

The days at the academy seemed to drag on, each one blending into the next, a constant cycle of lessons and mockery. The once grand promise of opportunity felt more like an illusion, a distant hope that Naryn had yet to fully grasp. Anden's presence was a constant reminder of the world he could never fully enter, while the others in his dormitory treated him as more than a nuisance.

Naryn's interactions with the others were few and strained. Liana remained the most distant, neither friend or foe, and though her silence seemed to offer some comfort, it also created a wall that Naryn wasn't sure how to breach. Gerrick and Osric, however, made their feelings clear every chance they got, and Naryn, though often pushed to the brink, kept his head low, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

One afternoon, after a grueling day of theory classes and swordsmanship training, Naryn found himself alone in the courtyard. The sun was beginning to set. He watched the nobles, draped in their fine clothing, laughing and chatting in groups. Anden stood among them, his smug expression barely hidden beneath a facade of politeness. The distance between them felt like an unbridgeable chasm, one that Naryn wasn't sure how to cross. As he turned to leave, a voice cut through the murmur of the courtyard.

"Hey."

 It was Liana. She walking toward him, her face unreadable but her footsteps purposeful.

"Can we talk ?" she asked, her voice quiet but firm.

Naryn hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to expect. "Talk ?" he repeated, his mind racing. "About what ?"

She glanced around, making sure no one was watching. Then, her eyes met his, and for the first time, Naryn saw something close to sincerity in them.

"You're not like the others," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You don't deserve to be treated like this."

Naryn blinked in surprise. "I...what do you mean ?"

Liana's expression softened slightly. "I'm not blind, Naryn. I see the way they treat you. I see how they look at you, like you're some kind of animal to be mocked and humiliated." She paused, her gaze shifting away. "And you take it, like it doesn't bother you."

Naryn's chest tightened at her words, and for a moment, he could barely find his voice. "What do you want me to do ? Fight back ? That's not an option for me."

She didn't respond immediately, as though weighing her words carefully. "No. But you don't have to let them break you. There's something about you, Naryn. Something... different."

The way she said his name made his stomach twist. No one ever spoke to him like this. No one ever cared.

"You don't know me," Naryn said, shaking his head, trying to regain some semblance of control. "You don't know what it's like. To be nothing."

Liana looked at him for a long moment before replying. "I know more than you think. And you don't have to be nothing. Not here. Not if you don't want to."

Her words hit him harder than he expected. The idea of hope, of actual possibility, felt like something dangerous. But it also felt like something he couldn't push away.

Before he could respond, Liana turned to leave, her footsteps light but resolute. "Think about it," she said over her shoulder. "I'll be around."

Naryn stood there for a long time after she had gone, his mind reeling. Her words, simple as they were, clung to him. I don't have to be nothing. Could that really be true ?

The next few days were a blur of lessons, physical training, and incessant mockery. But in the back of his mind, Naryn couldn't stop thinking about what Liana had said. Could he really change his fate? Could he find a way to carve out something for himself in this place, despite the collar that kept him bound to Anden ?

One evening, after the day's training had ended and the dormitory had settled into its usual uneasy quiet, Naryn found himself standing by the window again, staring out at the courtyard below. The other students had retreated to their rooms, leaving the space feeling hollow and still. It was then that a voice interrupted his solitude.

"Why do you keep looking out there ?"

It was Liana again, her tone casual but carrying an underlying weight of curiosity. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, watching him. Naryn didn't turn to face her immediately, but her presence in the room felt less like an intrusion and more like an invitation.

"I'm just... thinking," he said, unsure how to explain the chaos in his mind.

Liana raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not pushing further. "About what ?"

He hesitated for a long moment, unsure whether to voice his doubts aloud. But in her presence, the weight of silence felt unbearable.

"About everything," Naryn finally admitted. "About why I'm here, what I'm supposed to do, and whether it's even worth it. Every day, I'm reminded of how little I matter here."

Liana studied him carefully, her expression unreadable. "You think you're the only one who feels that way ?"

Naryn's gaze snapped to hers, surprised. "You ?"

"Of course," she replied, shrugging slightly. "I may not have a collar around my neck, but I'm still just a commoner. I'm still being treated like I don't belong. You think I have it easier ?"

Naryn opened his mouth to argue, but the words died in his tongue. She was right. They were both trapped, in different ways, by the world they inhabited but for naryn his case was different she didn't what he was going trough.

"I understand you point of view but our life his not the same" he said quietly. 

Liana looked at him. "How can you say that."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy.

"Im a slave you a commoner you may think our life are the same but if they were going to choose who to save between me and you they would't think about saving me in their mind that the difference as a slave my life has no value in this world do you think they would care if my life was threatened the only reason if im alive till today his because my master is willing me to it," Naryn said. Liana look down at the ground don't know what to say after what he said."

But still thanks to your word they still give me the strenght to look forward."

Liana sat in silence for a long moment, her gaze fixed on the floor. The weight of Naryn's words settled heavily between her. She always known that the world was cruel, but hearing the truth from someone who lived it so viscerally struck her in a way she hadn't expected.

Finally, she lifted her head, her voice softer now. "You're right, Naryn. I can't pretend to know what it's like for you. I've seen the way they treat you, the way they look at you like you're... nothing. And you're not. You're not nothing."

He scoffed, though the bitterness in his expression was softened by a flicker of vulnerability. "You say that like it matters."

"It does," she insisted, standing now and stepping closer to him. "Maybe not to them. But it matters to me. And it should matter to you too."

Naryn turned back to the window, his hands gripping the sill as if trying to anchor himself. "It's easy for you to say that. You have a future, Liana. Even if they don't treat you as an equal now, you have the chance to prove yourself, to rise above it. For me, there's no escape. No future."

Liana moved closer, her tone sharpening. "Do you think they'll just hand me a future ? That I won't have to fight for every inch of respect, every scrap of recognition ? This place was built to break us, Naryn. You think the collar around your neck is the only chain here ?"

He glanced at her, startled by the intensity of her words.

"Maybe you're right," she continued, her voice steady but fierce. "Maybe they would save me over you if it came down to it. But that doesn't mean you don't have value. And it doesn't mean you have to let them decide who you are. You're not just a slave. You're Naryn. And as long as you're still breathing, you have a choice. Even if it's just in how you see yourself."

Her words hung in the air, challenging and unyielding. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Finally, Naryn let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "You make it sound so simple."

"It's not," Liana admitted, her expression softening. "But nothing worth fighting for ever is."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Naryn allowed himself a faint smile, barely there but real. "You're stubborn, you know that ?"

Liana grinned, the tension between them easing just slightly. "I've been told."

He turned back to the window, but this time, his thoughts felt a little less heavy. Liana didn't leave, standing quietly by his side. For the first time since arriving, Naryn felt like he wasn't entirely alone.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to keep him going.

The next morning, the routine resumed as always early wake up calls, grueling physical drills, and endless lessons. And the oppressive stares of the instructors were as suffocating as ever, but Liana's words lingered in his mind. They didn't erase his reality, but they gave him something new to hold onto a sentiment of defiance, fragile but alive.

During sword practice that afternoon, the instructor a burly man with scars paced up and down the line of students, barking orders. The group was paired off, each duo sparring with dull practice blades. Naryn was paired with a tall, broad shouldered boy named Casrik, whose smirk alone was enough to grate on Naryn's nerves.

The tension between Naryn and Casrik end up in a way no one could have anticipated.

The sparring match was supposed to be routine, for the students to practice their forms and refine their techniques. But as soon as Naryn landed the first blow, the air around them thickened with hostility. Casrik's smirk vanished, replaced by a snarl that bared his teeth.

"You think you're smart, don't you, collar boy ?" Casrik whistled, circling around Naryn like a predator stalking a wounded prey.

Naryn kept his stance firm, his grip tightening on the sword. "I don't think," he said, voice steady. "I just know I'm better than you."

The students around them gasped, a murmur rippling through the group. Even Liana, standing off to the side, shot him a wide-eyed look of disbelief.

Casrik's face darkened with fury. "You'll regret that."

Before the instructor could intervene, Casrik lunged, his blade flashing toward Naryn's shoulder. This wasn't practice anymore this was personal.

Naryn barely managed to parry the blow, the force of it rattling up his arms. Casrik pressed forward, delivering a flurry of strikes, each one more aggressive than the last. Naryn gave ground, his feet logging on the dirt as he struggled to keep up.

"Come on !" Casrik shouted, his voice echoing across the training yard. "Show me what you've got, slave , where the arrogance you have a just before !"

Naryn's breath came in short bursts, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the eyes of everyone around him waiting, judging. But in the back of his mind, Liana's words rang clear: You're not just a slave. You're Naryn.

With a burst of determination, Naryn dodged Casrik's next blow and pivoted on her heel. Her blade went flying, hitting Casrik in the ribs once more. This time, the strike was precised it sent casrik staggering back with a grunt of pain.

The students erupted into shouts and cheers, their voices a chaotic blend of surprise and excitement.

"You're faster than you look," Casrik snarled, clutching his side. His eyes burned with a dangerous light as he straightened, raising his blade. "But let's see how you handle this."

He charged again, his swings wild but powerful. Naryn ducked and weaved, each movement more fluid than the last. He could feel the rhythm of the fight now, the ebb and flow of Casrik's attacks. It was like a dance one he was learning on the fly.

Casrik's blade came down in a powerful aerial arc, aiming to overwhelm Naryn's defence. However, Naryn dodged deftly, redirecting at the crucial moment, her blade rising quickly to deflect Casrik's sword to the side. Seizing the opportunity, Naryn lunged forward, breaking through Casrik's guard to deliver a solid shoulder thrust.

Casrik stumbled back, his balance faltering. Seizing the opportunity, Naryn swung his blade in a clean, controlled arc that stopped just short of Casrik's neck.

The class fell silent.

Casrik froze, his chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face. Naryn's blade hovered inches from his throat, steady and unyielding.

"Surrender," Naryn said, his voice low but firm.

For a moment, Casrik's jaw clenched, his pride warring with the reality of his defeat. Finally, with a growl of frustration, he dropped his blade to the ground. "Fine. You win."

The instructor stepped forward, his face unreadable. "Enough," he barked, his voice cutting through the tension. His gaze flicked between the two boys, lingering on Naryn. "A good fight. But next time, keep it under control. This isn't a battlefield."

"Yes, sir, im sorry" Naryn replied, lowering his blade and bow.

As the other began to disperse, Liana approached him, her expression a mix of admiration and concern. "That was... intense," she said, her eyes searching his face. "Are you okay ?"

Naryn nodded, though his arms ached and his legs felt like jelly. "I think so."

She gave him a wry smile. "You realize you just made a lot of enemies, right ?"

"Nothing new," he said, his voice quiet but resolute. "And a few more don't really change things ?"

Liana laughed softly, shaking her head. "Well, for what it's worth, that was impressive. Maybe you really are more than they think you are."

The hallway felt eerily quiet as Naryn and Liana made their way toward the cafeteria. Despite the tension of the day's training, the simple act of walking side by side had given the moment a strange sense of calm. But that calm shattered the instant they turned a corner and found themselves face-to-face with Anden and his group.

Naryn's stomach sank. This wasn't supposed to happen. Anden's quarters were far from here they shouldn't have crossed paths. But fate, cruel as always, had other plans.

Anden's wild smirk grew as he spotted them, his eyes locking onto Naryn. He walked closer, his group trailing behind him like vultures.

"Well, well," Anden sneered, stopping a few feet away. "Look who we have here."

Naryn stiffened but said nothing, keeping his head low. Beside him, Liana's posture grew tense, her gaze darting nervously between Anden and Naryn.

"I heard about your little 'triumph' in practice today," Anden said, his smirk widening. "So, what ? You think beating a pathetic commoner makes you special now ?"

Without warning, Anden lashed out, driving his foot into Naryn's stomach. The force of the kick sent Naryn stumbling back, collapsing to the ground with a grunt of pain.

The group erupted into laughter.

"Did you say something, slave ?" Anden jeered, his tone dripping with mockery. "I didn't quite hear you."

Naryn forced himself to respond through gritted teeth, his voice low and steady. "No, Master Anden."

Anden's laughter turned crueler, his voice rising in exaggerated amusement. "That's what I thought."

He sighed as if exhausted by the very sight of Naryn, then lashed out again, his boot into Naryn's ribs. Naryn crumpled further, clutching his side.

"You have no idea how dull it's been without my favorite toy to pass the time," Anden said, circling around him like a predator. "And now I find you wasting time pretending to be a swordsman ? Pathetic."

The kicks came harder, each one punctuated by the laughter of Anden's group. Naryn stayed on the ground, his arms weakly shielding his torso, but he didn't cry out. He wouldn't give Anden that satisfaction.

Liana stood frozen, her fists clenched at her sides as she watched in horror. She wanted to intervene, to scream, to do something, but fear held her back. She could only watch as Anden vented his anger.

Finally, after several long minutes, Anden stepped back, panting slightly. His face was flushed, a smug look of satisfaction twisting his features. "Tsk. That's enough for now," he said, brushing off his tunic as if the very act of touching Naryn had soiled him.

He leaned down, his voice cold and deliberate. "Don't forget your place, Naryn. You're nothing."

With a dismissive wave, Anden gestured for his group to follow him. They sauntered off, their laughter echoing down the hallway.

Once the sound of their footsteps faded, Liana rushed to Naryn, who lay curled on the ground. She knelt beside him, her hands trembling as she reached out.

"Naryn! Are you okay ?" Her voice wavered, a mix of anger and worry. "This is horrible! How can someone like him he's a noble, but doesn't he have an ounce of mercy ?"

Naryn slowly sat up, wincing as he pressed a hand to his ribs. He forced a weak smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine !" she shout back, her voice rising in disbelief.

He shrugged as if brushing off her concern. "He's done worse. That was him going easy on me."

"Going easy ?" Liana's voice faltered, the words barely above a whisper.

Naryn pulled himself to his feet, swaying slightly before steadying himself. "Let's just go. There's no point dragging this out. Besides..." He forced another smile. "All those kicks gave me an appetite."

Liana stared at him, stunned by his calmness. But as they walked, she noticed the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands were clenched into fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. She gasped when she saw the blood trickling from his hands.

"Naryn..."

"Don't," he interrupted, his voice quiet.

As Naryn and Liana made their way to the cafeteria, the atmosphere was thick with unease. The confrontation with Anden had left a heavy silence between them, though Naryn's expression betrayed nothing beyond a faint, grim determination.

Liana, still shaken by what she'd just witnessed, glanced at him nervously. "I don't understand... doesn't he realize you're still human ?"

Naryn let out a humorless laugh. "To him, I'm not. I'm just a thing, a tool, something to use when he's bored."

"That's not right," she snapped, her voice trembling with anger. "Even for a noble... that's monstrous."

He stopped walking for a moment, turning his gaze to her. Despite the bruises forming on his face and the way his body moved stiffly from the kicks, there was a sharp, cold fire in his eyes. "This is my life, Liana. It's been like this for years. Don't waste your pity on me it doesn't change anything."

"But you don't have to let him treat you like that!" she argued, her fists clenched at her sides.

Naryn shook his head and started walking again. "And what do you suggest I do ? Fight back and die for it ? No... not yet."

Liana fell silent, unable to respond. As they entered the cafeteria, the usual clamor of students talking and eating filled the air, but Naryn's presence drew stares. Whispers followed him like shadows, no doubt fueled by both his earlier fight with Casrik and the bruises now marring his skin.

They got their food in silence, sitting at a corner table away from the crowd. Liana picked at her plate, glancing at Naryn now and then as he ate mechanically, each bite seeming more like an act of defiance than sustenance.

Finally, she couldn't hold it in any longer. "You said it yourself you're angry. I saw it. You were clenching your fists so hard they bled. Why don't you do something about it ? Why don't you.."

"Revolt ?" Naryn cut her off sharply, his voice low but dripping with venom. "Challenge him to some grand duel and prove I'm more than a slave ? You think this is a story where I can just win my freedom with enough courage and determination ?"

"That's not what I meant," she said quietly, but her voice faltered under the weight of his fury.

He leaned forward slightly, his tone softening but still carrying a sharp edge. "I'm angry, Liana. Boiling with it. But anger without power is just a fire that burns you from the inside. If I lash out now, I lose. But one day..." His voice trailed off, and for a moment, a dark gleam of something dangerous flashed in his eyes. "One day, I'll make them all regret what they've done."

The intensity in his voice sent a chill down Liana's spine. She looked away, unsure of what to say, and instead focused on her plate.

The rest of their meal passed in heavy silence. As they left the cafeteria, Naryn's fists remained clenched at his sides, the faint scent of blood lingering in the air from his self-inflicted wounds. He walked with a purpose now, each step deliberate, as if every movement was a rehearsal for something larger.

Liana followed a step behind him, her mind racing. She didn't know what Naryn was planning, but one thing was clear: the fire inside him wasn't going to die out anytime soon. It was only growing, fed by every bruise, every insult, and every kick.

And when it finally erupted, it would burn everything in its path.