The next morning arrived in a sense of anticipation that Naryn couldn't quite shake. The bruises from Anden's attack still ached, a constant reminder of his place in the academy's hierarchy. Yet, as he stared at his reflection in the small, cracked mirror by his berth, he noticed something different a flicker of resolve in his eyes. The rage he'd felt yesterday hadn't vanished. If anything, it had taken a root, coiling deep inside like a beast waiting to strike.
The routine of the academy resumed as usual, a relentless grind of physical drills, lectures. But now, Naryn moved with a sharper focus. The pain in his ribs reminded him of his vulnerability, but it also drove home a truth he couldn't ignore survival alone wasn't enough. If he wanted to escape the shadow of Anden, of the collar, he had to be more than a survivor.
By noon, Naryn found himself back in the training yard, his body weary but his mind honed. The instructor had paired him with Liana this time, perhaps as some twisted attempt to amuse himself. She held her blade loosely, her stance relaxed but ready, while Naryn stood a few feet away, gripping his weapon tightly.
"You sure you're up for this ?" she asked, her voice low enough that the other students wouldn't hear.
"I'm fine," he replied, though his grip betrayed his tension.
"Doesn't look like it." She smirked, trying to lighten the mood. "I'd rather not embarrass you twice in one day."
"Don't hold back," he said, ignoring her jibe. "I need this."
Liana's smirk faded, replaced by a look of understanding. Without another word, she lunged, her blade cutting through the air toward his left side. Naryn sidestepped, barely deflecting the blow in time. The sound of steel clashing echoed through the yard, drawing the attention of the other students.
Their sparring grew more intense, the tempo quickening with each exchange. Liana was fast, her movements precise and controlled, but Naryn matched her blow for blow. He could feel the eyes of the others on him, whispering, judging, but he tuned them out. This fight wasn't about them. It was about proving something to himself.
After a particularly close exchange, the instructor called an end to the match. "Enough ! Decent work, both of you. Though, Naryn, try not to let your emotions dictate your actions. It'll get you killed."
Naryn nodded silently, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. As the students dispersed, Liana lingered beside him, her expression unreadable.
"You're getting better," she said finally.
"I have to," Naryn replied, his voice clipped. "If I don't, I'll die here."
Her brow furrowed. "That's not all, though, is it ? You're fighting for something more than survival."
He didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the ground. Liana sighed, deciding to let the matter drop for now.
Later that evening, Naryn retreated to the small library tucked away in a quieter corner of the academy. It was one of the few places where he could think without interruption. The musty scent of old books filled the air as he scanned the shelves, searching for something anything that might offer him guidance.
He pulled down a book on military strategy, its cover worn and faded. As he flipped through the pages, a passage caught his eye:
'The greatest victories are not won by brute force, but by patience, cunning and unshakeable will. A weaker opponent can topple a giant if he strikes at the right time, in the right place.'"
Naryn read the passage again, the words searing themselves into his mind.
As Naryn left the library, the halls were dark and quiet. Most of the students had retired to their dormitories, but Naryn's footsteps echoed softly as he made his way back. Just as he turned a corner, he heard voices low, conspiratorial whispers.
He crept closer, pressing himself against the wall. Peering around the edge, he saw Anden and a few of his lackeys gathered in a dimly lit alcove. Their faces were shadowed, but their sneering tones carried clearly.
"Tomorrow," Anden was saying, "we'll put him in his place. That little stunt with Casrik was bad enough, but now he's strutting around like he owns the place."
One of the others sneered. "Think he'll cry this time ?"
Anden's smirk was audible in his voice. "He'll do more than cry. I'll make sure of it."
Naryn clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. The fire inside him roared to life, but he forced himself to stay calm. Charging in now would be suicide. He needed to think.
Back in the dormitory, Naryn sat on the edge of his bunk, his mind racing. Liana approached, her expression cautious.
"What's wrong ?" she asked, sitting beside him.
He hesitated before replying. "Anden. He's planning something for tomorrow."
Her eyes narrowed. "What are you going to do ?"
Naryn's gaze was steely as he met hers. "Wait. And when the time comes, I'll strike back."
Liana looked at him, concern etched on her face. "That's dangerous, Naryn. He's not just a bully he's a noble and your master. If you cross him, there could be consequences you can't come back from."
"I know," he said quietly. "But I can't keep living like this. I have to take a stand, even if it's just once."
She sighed, placing a hand on his arm. "Just… be careful. You're not as alone as you think, you know."
For a moment, Naryn's hardened expression softened. He nodded, grateful for her support, even if he couldn't fully trust it.
As the first light of dawn broke over the academy, Naryn rose, his resolve firm. The day ahead would be no different from any other in the eyes of the instructors, the students, or even Anden. But for Naryn, it would mark the beginning of something new a quiet rebellion, a test of the patience and cunning he'd read about.
The morning drills came as they always did relentless, monotonous, and exhausting. Naryn moved through the motions, sparing his strength where he could. His ribs still throbbed from Anden's assault, but he hid his pain. He couldn't afford to show weakness. Not today.
The yard was filled with the usual din of shouts, clanging steel, and barked orders from the instructors. Liana stood nearby, sharpening her sword as the students waited for their next orders. She glanced at Naryn, her brows knitting in concern.
"You've been quiet," she said under her breath as he passed her. "Too quiet."
Naryn kept his voice low. "I'm thinking."
"About Anden ?"
He gave her a sidelong glance but didn't reply. She sighed, leaning in closer. "You can't outfight him, Naryn. Not yet. You know that, right ?"
"I'm not planning to outfight him," he said simply, his tone cold and steady.
Liana frowned. "What then ? You're not exactly the scheming type."
"Maybe I'm learning." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle, "And maybe you shouldn't stick around me so much today. It might get… messy."
The opportunity came during afternon break. The students were scattered across the yard, some sparring, others slumped against walls, too drained to do much else. Naryn stood alone by the edge of the yard, sharpening a dagger with slow, deliberate strokes. The blade glinted in the sunlight, its edge honed to a deadly point.
Anden sauntered toward him, flanked by his usual lackeys. His smug grin widened as he saw Naryn.
"Look who his all by himself," Anden sneered. "Still licking your wounds from last time ?"
Naryn didn't look up. "Shouldn't you be focusing on your training, Anden ? Or are you worried you'll lose your edge without me to push around ?"
Anden's smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of irritation. He stepped closer, towering over Naryn. "Watch your mouth, slave. You're not in a position to talk back."
Naryn finally looked up, his eyes locking onto Anden's with a cold intensity. "You're right. I'm not in a position to talk back." He sheathed his dagger with a sharp motion. "But that doesn't mean I'll stop."
The other students began to notice the confrontation, their conversations tapering off as they turned to watch. Liana, standing near the edge of the yard, moved forward slightly, her face tight with worry.
Anden chuckled, though it sounded forced. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. Too bad it won't help you."
With a flick of his hand, he signaled his lackeys to circle Naryn. The smirk on his face widened as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a mocking whisper. "Let's see how tough you are when you're on your knees, begging for mercy."
Naryn took a slow breath, his fingers curling and uncurling at his sides. He didn't back down, didn't flinch. Instead, he spoke loud enough for the gathered students to hear.
"Funny thing about you nobles," he said, his tone calm but cutting. "You talk a big game about strength, honor, power...but the second you face someone who might actually fight back, you bring your friends to do your dirty work."
Anden's expression darkened. "You think you're better than me, slave ?!" His voice was sharp now, his temper flaring. "You're nothing ! Less than an f*** ant !"
"Prove it." Naryn's voice was steady, the challenge clear. "One on one. Right here, right now. Unless you're afraid."
A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd. The other students leaned in, eager to see what would happen next. Liana's eyes widened, her lips parting in silent protest.
Anden's pride wouldn't let him back down. He scowled, his nostrils flaring as he stepped closer. "Fine. You want a fight ? You'll get one. Don't cry when you lose."
The circle of students widened, creating a makeshift arena. Naryn stood at one end, his stance loose but ready, while Anden rolled his shoulders, cracking his knuckles with an air of confidence.
The instructor overseeing the yard approached, his arms crossed. "What's going on here ?" he demanded.
Anden turned to him with a charming smile. "Just a friendly sparring match, sir. Nothing serious."
The instructor frowned but didn't interfere. "Keep it clean. And restriction to use magic."
As the instructor stepped back, Anden take his training blade, a wicked grin spreading across his face. Naryn unsheathed his dagger, his grip firm. The murmurs of the crowd died down as the two faced off, the tension thick in the air.
Anden lunged first, his blade slicing toward Naryn with practiced ease. Naryn dodged, his movements quick and precise. He wasn't as strong or skilled as Anden, but he was faster, his reflexes honed by years as a slave.
"Is that all you've got ?" Anden taunted, his strikes growing more aggressive.
Naryn didn't respond. He focused on Anden's movements, looking for patterns, weaknesses. His ribs screamed in protest as he ducked under another swing, but he gritted his teeth and kept moving.
The fight dragged on, both combatants tiring. Anden's attacks became sloppier, his frustration evident in the wild swings of his blade. Naryn, though weary, stayed calm, biding his time.
Finally, the opening came. As Anden overextended on a downward strike, Naryn sidestepped and lashed out, his dagger slicing through the air to catch Anden's arm. He let out a cry of pain, his blade clattering to the ground.
A collective gasp rose from the crowd. Anden clutched his arm, his face contorted with rage and humiliation. "You… filthy…"
Naryn didn't let him finish. He stepped forward, his dagger pointed at Anden's throat. His voice was low, barely audible over the pounding of his heart.
"You think you own me. You think your name makes you untouchable. But here," he gestured to the dirt beneath their feet, "your title means nothing. You're just like the rest of us."
Anden glared at him, but he didn't move. For the first time, Naryn saw fear flicker in his eyes.
The crowd erupted in whispers as Naryn stepped back, sheathing his dagger. The instructor stormed forward, his face thunderous. "What is the meaning of this ?!" he bellowed.
Before Anden could speak, Liana stepped forward, her voice calm. "It was a sparring match, sir. No rules were broken."
The instructor glared at her, then at Naryn and Anden. Finally, he growled, "Enough. Back to your drills all of you!"
The students dispersed reluctantly, casting glances at Naryn as they went. Liana approached him, her expression a mixture of relief and exasperation.
"You're insane," she said, shaking her head. "But that was impressive."
Naryn didn't reply. He glanced at Anden, who was being helped up by his lackeys, his face pale and furious. For a moment, it seemed like Anden would retreat with his pride wounded. But then, a sharp crackle filled the air.
Before anyone could react, Anden raised a hand, his palm sparking with blue white energy. With a cruel sneer, he unleashed a bolt of lightning, striking Naryn in the back.
Naryn gasped, his body jerking violently as the electricity coursed through him. His legs buckled, and he crumpled to the ground, smoke curling faintly from his clothes. The crowd froze in shock, the suddenness of the attack leaving them stunned.
Anden stood over Naryn's motionless form, his smirk widening. "Take that, you dirty slave," he spat. "Did you really think you could walk away without punishment ?"
Liana's eyes widened in horror. "Naryn !" She rushed to his side, dropping to her knees to check for signs of life. He was unconscious, his breathing shallow, his face pale.
The yard, which had been filled with murmurs and whispers moments ago, fell silent as the instructor stormed over, his face dark with fury. The mana from Anden's spell lingered in the air, a tangible weight that left no doubt about what had just happened.
"Anden !" the instructor bellowed, his voice like a thunderclap. "What do you think you're doing ?!"
Anden's confidence faltered under the instructor's glare, but he tried to play it off. "I was just… teaching him a lesson," he said, though his voice lacked its usual bravado.
"Using magic against an unarmed opponent outside of sanctioned combat is forbidden !" the instructor snapped. "You've crossed the line, Anden. Report to the disciplinary office immediately. You'll answer for this."
"But he..." Anden started, but the instructor cut him off with a sharp gesture.
"Now !" the instructor shout at him.
Anden's smug grin vanished. With one last hateful glare at Naryn, he turned and stalked off, his lackeys trailing behind him like lost dogs.
The instructor knelt by Naryn, his stern expression softening slightly as he examined the unconscious boy. Liana hovered anxiously nearby.
"Will he be all right ?" she asked, her voice trembling.
The instructor sighed. "He's alive, but he needs proper care." He stood and motioned to a pair of older students. "You two, help me get him to the infirmary. And make sure the healer is summoned immediately."
The students obeyed, lifting Naryn carefully under the instructor's watchful eye. Liana followed them as they carried him away, her heart pounding in her chest.
The infirmary was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of a healing spell and the soft murmurs of the healers. Naryn lay on a cot, his face pale. Liana sat nearby, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.
The instructor entered the room, his expression grave. "He's stable," he said, addressing Liana. "But it'll take time for him to recover fully. That kind of spell takes a toll."
Liana looked up at him, her eyes filled with worry and anger. "Anden he just walked away. What if he does this again ?"
"He won't," the instructor said firmly. "He's been sanctioned. His magic privileges are revoked until further notice, and he'll face additional punishment from the academy board. What he did was reckless, dangerous, and completely unacceptable."
Liana nodded, though the words offered little comfort. Her gaze returned to Naryn, her expression softening.
When Naryn finally stirred hours later, his body ached, and his thoughts were foggy. He blinked up at the ceiling, trying to piece together what had happened.
"You're awake," Liana said softly, leaning over him. Relief was evident in her voice.
"What… happened ?" his throat dry.
"Anden," she said bitterly. "He used magic on you. You've been out for hours."
Naryn's eyes darkened as the memories came flooding back. "I didn't expect him to use a spell of this strenght" he muttered, his voice weak but laced with anger.
Liana leaned closer. "You stood up to him, Naryn. You showed everyone who he really is. But you need to be careful. He's not going to forget this."
Naryn closed his eyes, his jaw tightening. "Neither will I."
As the healer approached with another dose of restorative magic, Liana sat back, watching Naryn with a mixture of admiration and concern.