"About the raids, huh?" I muttered to myself as I wiped the sweat from my brow, still catching my breath after the relentless training.
I could feel the weight of Marcus's words lingering in my mind after our walk, even as the early morning light filtered through the tall trees that lined the courtyard.I had known something was off, but hearing him mention the raids now, and what he said about them is unsettling, if it was true.. Then I need to get powerful fast.. faster than I anticipated.
The weight of the sword in my hand felt familiar, but my muscles still screamed at me for pushing them too far. Kaine's training sessions were relentless, each day more grueling than the last. And today had been no different.
Kaine had always been a hard taskmaster, but I was beginning to see why. His approach wasn't just about strength; it was about forcing me to confront weaknesses I didn't even know existed. Weaknesses in my technique, sure, but also weaknesses in my mind.
Every day, he tested my resolve, my ability to push past fear, to trust my instincts. I was getting better. Slowly, but surely. Still, it wasn't enough. Not yet.
"Take a breather," Kaine called, tossing his sword aside and walking to the nearby bench. "You're not going to get anywhere if you don't pace yourself."
I nodded, taking a few steps toward the fountain at the edge of the training grounds. The cool water sparkled in the sunlight, offering a welcome relief to my overheated skin. I let my hands dip into the basin, savoring the brief respite.
As I stood there, my thoughts began to wander, as they often did after training. My mind often drifted to the things I couldn't quite explain, the unease that had settled in my gut ever since I had arrived at House Varyon.
It wasn't just Kaine's cryptic lessons or Marcus's constant surveillance. It was something deeper, something lurking beneath the surface. Something I hadn't fully figured out yet.That was when I heard footsteps approaching.
I didn't have to turn around to know it was Marcus. His presence was unmistakable, like a shadow that clung to every corner of the estate. I had noticed it more and more lately, the way he seemed to appear at the most inconvenient times, always watching, always calculating.
"Taking a break?" Marcus's voice was quiet, almost casual, but there was an edge to it. A hint of something that suggested he knew more than I did about what was really going on here.I didn't bother responding immediately, letting the sound of the water fill the silence instead.
But when I did turn to face him, I couldn't help the wariness that crept into my voice. "Just resting."
He gave a slow nod, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. "You're not going to find the answers you're looking for by training yourself into exhaustion, Elias," he said, his tone so calm that it almost unsettled me. "If you want to know what's really going on here, you'll need to open your eyes. Stop pretending that you're the only one who sees through the game."
The words landed with a weight I hadn't expected. It was almost like he was daring me to react, to show my cards, but I held my ground. There was no sense in letting him see any sign of weakness, not yet.
"I'm not pretending anything," I said, keeping my voice level. "I'm training. That's all."Marcus seemed to contemplate that for a moment, his gaze flicking to the ground as if considering something. "Training is fine. But don't forget that knowledge is just as important as strength."
With that, he turned to leave, his footsteps echoing in the courtyard as he walked away. The conversation had felt like a game, each of us testing the other, trying to see who would blink first. But Marcus had a way of planting seeds of doubt, of making me question things I hadn't even thought about. It was disconcerting, to say the least.
I was still processing his words when I heard the faintest rustling behind me. At first, I thought it was just the wind, but the sound grew louder, footsteps, hurried and cautious.
I turned around quickly, instinctively reaching for the sword at my side, though I knew it was unlikely anyone would dare to approach me unannounced.What I saw stopped me in my tracks.
A girl stood at the far edge of the courtyard, her dark hair pulled back in a loose braid that hung over her shoulder. She was dressed simply, far too simply for someone who belonged to a house as wealthy as Varyon.
Her eyes darted around nervously, her expression a mix of uncertainty and curiosity. It was like she didn't belong here, yet something about her felt familiar, like I'd seen her before, though I couldn't place where.
She noticed me then, her eyes widening slightly as she stepped back. It was clear that she hadn't expected to be seen, much less approached.
"Sorry," she said quickly, her voice soft but steady. "I didn't mean to intrude." I frowned, my hand still on the hilt of my sword as I took a step forward. "Who are you?" My tone was guarded, wary.
People didn't just wander onto House Varyon's grounds without a reason. It was too heavily protected, and outsiders rarely made it past the gate unless they had permission.
The girl hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I'm Celia," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "I... I was hoping to speak with someone from House Varyon. I'm not sure who, exactly, but I thought maybe... I thought maybe I could get some help."
I studied her for a moment. There was something about her—something that felt different from the usual visitors to House Varyon. She didn't carry herself like a noble, yet there was an air of quiet determination about her. And her eyes... they were strangely familiar, though I couldn't figure out why.
"What do you need help with?" I asked, my suspicion growing. I couldn't quite place it, but there was something in the way she spoke, the way she moved—it all felt off.
Celia shifted uneasily, her gaze flicking to the ground as she wrung her hands together. "I don't know if I'm in the right place, but... I've been told there's someone here who might know something about my family." She paused, looking up at me with a mixture of hope and fear. "I... I don't know who they are, but I think they might be connected to one of the noble houses."
I raised an eyebrow. That was unusual, to say the least. Most people with noble blood knew their lineage, or at least had some inkling of it. But Celia seemed completely out of place—like someone who didn't belong here, yet was drawn to it nonetheless.
"Do you know which house?" I asked, my curiosity piqued despite myself. Celia shook her head. "No. That's the problem. My parents never talked about it. But I've always felt like there was something... something more to my family than what they told me. I've spent years trying to find answers, and I thought—" She stopped herself, biting her lip nervously. "I thought maybe House Varyon could help."
I frowned. Something about her story didn't add up. If she had truly spent years searching for answers, why would she come here—so unsure, so unprepared? And how had she even known to come to House Varyon in the first place? There were too many unanswered questions.
"Well, I'm not sure who you think can help you here," I said cautiously, "but I can't make any promises."
Celia's face fell, but she nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry to bother you."
I watched her for a moment as she started to turn away, and then it happened. The strange feeling—the pull I couldn't explain.
I didn't know what it was, but I couldn't just let her go. "Wait," I called out, almost surprising myself with the urgency in my voice. "I'll help you. If you can tell me where you live, I'll come by later. We can figure this out."
Celia stopped and turned back toward me, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You will?" I nodded, though I wasn't entirely sure why I was offering. There was something about her—a quiet desperation, maybe, or perhaps just a strange instinct to help. "Yeah. I'll come to find out more. Just tell me where you're staying."
Celia hesitated for a moment, her expression softening as she nodded. "I'll be staying at the old inn near the docks. I'm not there all the time, but if you come by, you'll find me." "Alright," I said, the strange sensation still lingering in my chest. "I'll come by later."
With that, she gave a small, relieved smile before turning and walking away. As I watched her go, the odd feeling didn't fade—it only grew stronger. There was something I couldn't put my finger on. Something about Celia felt... important.