Golden morning sunlight pierced through the thick velvet curtains, hitting my face and pulling me out of a deep, dreamless sleep.
"Good morrow, Lady Elvit," a cheerful voice chimed.
I sat up, blinking away the sleep, and watched as a young maid named Lina bustled around the room, tying the curtains back and opening the heavy glass windows. The crisp, cool autumn air flooded in.
"Good morning, Lina," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.
"It is a beautiful day, my lady! Master Hunti has already prepared the baths, and the kitchens are roasting sausages," she chattered amiably, laying out a set of sturdy, practical training clothes on my bed. "I heard the news from the servants of the Fion Buros estate. You will be training with the Commander’s new daughters today, won’t you? It must be exciting to have girls your own age to study with."
Exciting isn’t exactly the word I would use, I thought, remembering Elara’s fierce, hostile glare. More like walking into a cage with cornered wolves.
"Yes, very exciting," I replied diplomatically, slipping out of bed. "Thank you, Lina."
After a quick, bracing wash, I headed down to the dining hall. Miklas was already there, aggressively attacking a massive plate of eggs, roasted sausages, and thick slices of bread. He wore his heavy leather gambeson, looking every bit the hardened Captain of the 7th Legion.
"Eat up, Elvit," he commanded the moment I sat down, pushing a platter of meat toward me. "Meat and bread. You are going to need every single fuel today."
"Are we continuing the exercises?" I asked, loading my plate.
"Oh, we are escalating it," Miklas grinned, his amber eyes flashing with a wicked glint. "You survived my basic warm-up. But Erula’s new ’daughters’ haven’t. And as their instructor, it is my sacred duty to break them down before we even begin to talk about magic."
An hour later, we arrived at the training grounds of the 7th Legion, located in the lower military ring of the city. The air smelled of sweat, oiled leather, and kicked-up dust. Hundreds of soldiers were drilling in the massive courtyard, their shouts echoing against the high stone walls.
Standing stiffly in a corner of the yard, completely out of place among the heavily armored legionaries, were Elara and Myra.
They were no longer dressed in rags. They wore pristine, high-quality training tunics bearing the crimson crest of House Fion Buros. But despite the expensive clothes, they looked terrified. Myra was visibly trembling, while Elara stood rigidly in front of her, her jaw set, eyeing every passing soldier with deep suspicion.
When they saw Miklas and me approaching, Elara’s expression hardened into pure animosity.
"Good morning, recruits," Miklas barked, dropping all pretense of nobility. His voice was loud, carrying the undeniable authority of a commanding officer. "I don’t care about your new names or what silk sheets you slept on last night. Here, you are nothing. You are unshaped clay. My job is to shape you into something worthy of purpose."
He threw three heavy canvas sacks filled with river stones at our feet. They hit the dirt with a dull thud.
"Put them on your backs," he ordered. "And start running. You don’t stop until I say so."
For the next four hours, Miklas subjected us to absolute physical hell. It was worse than what he had done to me in the mansion’s courtyard. We ran laps until our lungs burned, we carried heavy logs across the muddy field, and we did push-ups until our arms simply gave out.
The difference in our preparation showed immediately. Thanks to the brutal days I had already spent training with Miklas, my body, though aching, knew how to pace itself. My core was tighter, and my mental fortitude—forged in my past life—kept me moving.
Myra, however, collapsed halfway through the morning. She fell into the mud, sobbing, unable to lift her arms.
"Get up!" Miklas roared, not showing an ounce of pity.
I paused my run and reached a hand down to help Myra up. But before I could touch her, Elara violently slapped my hand away.
"Don’t touch her!" Elara spat, her face smeared with mud and sweat, her chest heaving. She grabbed Myra by the collar and hauled her to her feet, glaring at me with raw hatred. "We don’t need your pity, noble."
I am also a peasant you two stupid girl until a week ago, I wanted to snap back, but I held my tongue. I was not yet petty enough to argue or answer back to kids. I simply nodded and resumed my running.
By noon, the three of us were completely destroyed. We lay on the ground, gasping for air, covered head to toe in mud and sweat. Even Elara didn’t have the energy to glare at me anymore.
Miklas walked over, looking perfectly relaxed, and tossed us each a waterskin.
"Drink. Then follow me," he said.
We dragged ourselves off the dirt and followed him deep into the keep of the 7th Legion. The bustling noise of the courtyard faded as we descended a flight of stone stairs into the lower levels. The air grew cold and damp. Miklas stopped in front of a heavy iron door and pushed it open, revealing a small, completely barren stone room. There were no windows, no furniture, and only a single torch burning in the corridor outside.
"Inside," Miklas ordered.
We stepped into the claustrophobic space.
"Your bodies have been pushed to the limit today. That was necessary," Miklas explained, standing in the doorway. "Your physical vessel must be exhausted so that your mind stops focusing on your muscles and starts focusing inward. You are currently in the ’Dormant Bud’ phase. The Ember is inside you, but it is asleep."
He looked at the three of us, his expression deadly serious.
"I am going to close this door. It will be pitch black. I want you to sit on the floor, close your eyes, and look inside your own chest. Visualize a seed resting right below your heart. Do not just picture it—feel it. Feel its weight, its heat."
Myra whimpered slightly at the thought of the dark, but Elara held her hand tightly.
"You will stay in this room until you make that seed sprout," Miklas continued, his voice echoing in the small chamber. "When you feel the shell crack. When you feel the Ember react and push a root down into your body... only then will you have passed the Dormant phase. Until then, you do not eat, and you do not leave."
Without another word, Miklas stepped back and pulled the heavy iron door shut.
The clack of the lock turning sounded like a gunshot. Instantly, all light vanished. The darkness was so absolute it felt suffocating.
I heard Myra’s panicked breathing to my left, and Elara whispering harsh, comforting words to her. I ignored them. I crossed my legs, sat on the cold stone floor, and closed my eyes.
Who would leave three teenager girl alone in a dark room and just go away?. Nevermind.Visualize a seed. Feel the heat. In my past life, magic was just a fantasy concept. Now, I had to treat it like a biological organ. I focused all my attention on the center of my chest, searching through the darkness of my own body, waiting for the Ember to wake up.