Two weeks. Two weeks under Aurelion's stern regimen had begun to shape this small, mismatched group.
"Again!" His voice echoed in the morning silence.
Today's focus was different. They were paired. Aurelion focused on Kael, who stood opposite him.
This wasn't a fistfight, but a battle of will and technique. Wrestling.
Aurelion took a slight step forward, a sudden change in level, a hand reaching for Kael's wrist to unbalance him... He was realizing that his body felt strangely more "at home" in this close quarters struggle.
Instead of the tension he felt when clenching his fists, there was an instinctive comfort, a sense of his muscles working in harmony, sensing leverage points, feeling the opponent's center of gravity. It was as if his body remembered an old dance his mind had forgotten.
Kael, with his strong legs and unshakable stance, resisted, parrying Aurelion's grappling attempts, but Aurelion's sudden changes in direction, his unexpected shifts of body weight, constantly tested the wolf boy's balance.
It was a mind game. The art of predicting the next move, of drawing the opponent into the desired position, and Aurelion felt he was beginning to master this game.
On the other side, the roles had changed. Lyra was in a defensive position with a grumpy snort. Opposite her, Elara approached.
Elara, despite Lyra's sudden leap to the side, tried to grab her arm. She failed, but she had tried. Lyra, instead of instinctively scratching, quickly pulled her arm back as she had learned and tried to unbalance Elara.
Both stumbled, both were still raw, but there was a clear difference compared to two weeks ago.
Aurelion took a short break from his struggle with Kael and watched them. "They're improving... Slowly, but they're improving."
Then he turned back to Kael and began to grapple again.
The mess hall was, as usual, noisy and chaotic. Aurelion, finding it difficult to gather his thoughts in this noisy environment, had left the group behind and departed early.
Lyra, Kael, and Elara took their trays and headed to their usual table in the corner. Just as they had sat down, unwelcome shadows fell over them.
Grok, accompanied by four scowling northerner boys, stood over them. "Well, well, look here boys. Who we have here, The little elf's loyal dogs. Tell me, are you gnawing on bones without your master?"
Lyra instantly bared her teeth. "Shut up, Orc! We don't have time to deal with brainless fools like you."
The blond Northerner next to Grok laughed. "Ooh, the fox barks too. You were so well behaved next to that elf. Do you only bark when your master is not around?"
"What do you owe him anyway?" another Northerner continued. "He makes you crawl in that mud every morning. Isn't our training enough for you ?"
Just as Lyra was about to speak, Grok and his crew suddenly fell silent. Their eyes had caught Aurelion calmly approaching them from the side of the table.
Grok, trying not to lose face, grumbled with a laugh, "Anyway, you continue your "special" training, slaves!" As his four companions laughed, they quickly moved away.
Lyra wanted to shout after them, but she fell silent at Aurelion's short, questioning glance as he sat down at the table. Aurelion hadn't said a word. But his, golden eyes, locked onto those five children.
The afternoon courtyard drill was hellish. Harkan had increased the pace even further.
After exhausting runs and endurance exercises, it was time for fights. "Aurelion!"
Harkan's voice called him again. He called the Aquarion Mare to his side, along with one of the most stubborn, physically strong Northerners in the group, a blond boy named Harek.
"Today, anything goes! Fists, kicks, wrestling... No stopping until your opponent submits! You two, against the elf! Begin!"
This time, there was no surprise. Aurelion immediately prepared himself. Fighting against two was difficult.
Mare's snake like coiling body and sticky grips, combined with Harek's crude but brutal strength and inexhaustible stubbornness, were a deadly combination.
Aurelion had to constantly move, tried to use the techniques he had practiced with Kael, applying pressure to joints to escape Mare's grips, using footwork to evade Harek's powerful blows. He was taking hits but was giving back as well.
As the fight dragged on, all three began to tire. The muddy ground made their movements difficult. Finally, just as Mare caught Aurelion by the leg and unbalanced him.
Harek lunged forward. But even as he fell, Aurelion made one last move, twisting Mare's arm and causing Harek to fall on top of him. The three of them remained entangled in the mud, gasping for breath. No one could find the strength to get up.
"ENOUGH! That's enough of this disgrace! I told you to fight, not roll around in the mud!"
As Aurelion pushed himself up from the ground, his eyes drifted to the other side of the courtyard. He had seen what happened while he was fighting, and it had unintentionally distracted him.
Grok, with the morning's resentment, had wrestled Kael and finally pinned him with brute force. One of the other Northerners taken her down. Another had easily caught Elara, who was unaccustomed to wrestling, and held her in a headlock. And now, those five children, Grok and the four Northerners from the morning, stood over the defeated trio.
"AURELION!" Harkan's voice brought him back. "Keep your eyes forward! You're not done yet! It's time for your "extra training"! Endurance run, begin!"
Aurelion took a deep breath. Now was not the time. He turned his head and began to run in the direction Harkan indicated.
With every step, his muscles burned, his wounds throbbed, but there was only one thought in his mind. Those five... and the price he would make them pay.
At the end of the drill, covered in mud and sweat, barely able to stand, word came that Linnea had summoned him to her office. As usual. He nodded and walked heavily towards the building.
When the door to Linnea's office closed behind him, "Come in, Aurelion. Please sit," Aurelion sat in the indicated chair.
"First, let's take care of your wounds," Linnea said and stood up. She lightly running her hands over his head. That familiar, cool wave of energy passed over Aurelion's skin without touching it.
A few seconds later, Linnea opened her eyes. "It seems you're fully healed now. Let's remove these bandages." With gentle movements, she carefully removed the bandages. It seems Gretha's intervention and two weeks of rest had worked.
"Healed," Linnea said, stepping back to assess the result. "But you should still be careful to avoid scarring." She returned to her desk. Just as Aurelion was about to say something, Linnea looked at him as if expecting his question.
This was the moment. Aurelion frowned slightly "Mistress Linnea, there's something on my mind," he began. "I saw you before... years ago in the courtyard, healing a child. A... a horn had pierced his stomach." His eyes narrowed to gauge Linnea's reaction. "The bright light you emitted then closed his wound very quickly. But my wounds... although simpler, took longer to heal. And the method you used seemed different. Why?"
A brief wave of surprise crossed Linnea's face. How young was this child back then? Two, maybe one and a half years old... "Do you remember that day?" she asked directly "When you were so young?"
Aurelion shrugged. "It was the first time I had seen something so gruesome," he said simply. "That bright light and the child's scream... it stuck in my mind. I guess." Though his defense was weak. He didn't let her change the subject. "But the answer to my question? Why was there a difference?"
She sighed. "I've mentioned this to you before, Aurelion," she said, her voice now more serious. "Every living being has an energy center, a "Core." Especially in young ones like you, whose potential hasn't fully settled, this center is extremely sensitive. It hasn't completed its development. External energy from a different living being, can easily disrupt this delicate balance. Even my healing ability isn't entirely pure or compatible for you. That day, when I treated your wounds, I had to use my energy very carefully, very superficially. My goal was only to stop the bleeding and provide the most basic heal. If I had forced it more, I could have damaged your own Core, negatively affecting your future development. I couldn't take that risk."
Aurelion listened intently. "Core... Sensitive... External energy... Damage..." The words found their place in his mind. Linnea's logic was flawless. "And what about that child? You gave him more energy."
"Because his condition was much more critical," Linnea replied immediately. "That wound was fatal. I had to take initiative. The risk at that moment was lower than the risk of doing nothing. But even that intervention might have had long term consequences for him, we can't know." She paused. "There's always a price, Aurelion. Especially with interventions made through unnatural means."
"So other people's energy... can cause harm?" This potentially meant both a weapon and a danger.
"Absolutely," Linnea said clearly. "Every body is primarily compatible with its own energy. Energy from another source, no matter how well intentioned, creates incompatibility. That's why abilities like healing require immense sensitivity, deep understanding, and flawless control. The slightest mistake brings more harm than good. Control... is the key to everything." Linnea had emphasized that magic word again.
Aurelion nodded. He understood. At least the theory. The information was valuable, but it also raised new questions. There was so much he needed to learn.
"Fortunately, there have been no serious accidents in your little training group so far," she said. "According to the reports I've received from Chief Instructor Harkan, you're working quite hard in the mornings."
Her gaze now became more piercing, more questioning. "However... I hear there have been some unpleasant incidents in the mess hall. I think there are some external frictions?"
Aurelion's nose twitched slightly. "Insignificant things," he said, "These things happen among children. Little power plays, territorial disputes, like among adults... That's all."
"Are you sure, Aurelion? Because we know Grok and his crew. If your group... especially the others... are being bullied, I need to know. Maybe I need to intervene, maybe I need to help you... or them... deal with such situations."
The moment Aurelion heard the words "help," he tensed instinctively. He knew part of Linnea's concern was genuine, but... He quickly shook his head, his voice was clear and cold.
"Not necessary, Mistress Linnea, The situation is completely under my control. Do you think I can't handle the provocations of a few fools? My group's discipline is solid, and these kinds of minor problems can even be considered an opportunity to increase their resilience." His gaze met Linnea's defiantly. "We don't need your help. Everything is proceeding according to plan."
A faint, somewhat sad smile appeared on Linnea's lips. He wouldn't accept help. He would solve it his own way, and she could guess how ruthless those methods might be. "I hope so, Aurelion, I hope this plan of yours doesn't harm anyone."
"Alright. Since your wounds have healed, you can now return to the normal combat drills in the courtyard. But remember," her eyes turned serious again, "control. Always control."
"Understood," Aurelion said and left the office. As he was about to turn the corner leading to the common hall, a harsh but familiar voice stopped him. "Elf."
Aurelion slowly turned. Harek, the Northern boy he had fought a tough battle with in the courtyard that morning, stood before him.
"What is it?" Aurelion's voice was flat and distant. He had no curiosity about what this child might want.
"This morning's fight...you weren't bad." A short pause. "You're strong."
Aurelion's eyebrows rose slightly. This was an unexpected admission. He usually encountered mockery, threats, or fear.
Harek shrugged "Can't say I like you still," he added immediately "You're too... cunning. Different, that's all. But," he took a deep breath, "you stood your ground even against two of us. You even rattled that slippery bastard Mare a few times. You're no easy picking. I respect your strength."
Aurelion listened carefully to the boy's words. "So even he can see it" he thought.
"Did you come to me just to say that, Northerner?"
"No. I just wanted you to know this: Today we might have drawn, or let's say you stayed on your feet. But this is just the beginning. I saw your weird techniques too, how much more efficient they are. I'll improve myself. I'll be worthy of my father's name. And next time... I will defeat you. Whether with your wits or your strength, it doesn't matter. Let's both give it our all."
Harek balled his hand into a fist and struck his chest. This was a Northern way of challenging and giving one's word.
Aurelion saw the raw determination in Harek's eyes. This was an ambition that could be respected. This simple but strong will. To test himself against such an opponent, rather than just brawling... Yes, this could be instructive. He too smirked faintly.
"I'll be waiting for that day, Northerner," he said, his voice for the first time carrying a hint of competitive anticipation. "But until then... you'll need to train. A lot."
Harek got the message. His smirk widened. "Don't worry, Elf. I will." Without another word, he turned and walked decisively down the corridor the way he had come.
Aurelion watched the boy leave. Strange. This unexpected encounter felt oddly invigorating after the day's fatigue and tension. A real rival... Perhaps this orphanage could offer more than he thought.
With this thought, setting a new goal in his mind, he now turned to the other project he actually needed to attend to.
When he found Lyra, Kael, and Elara in the common hall, the tension of the day's defeat and the morning's incident in the mess hall was visible on all three faces. When Aurelion approached them, they all looked up expectantly.
Aurelion didn't speak. He just gestured with his hand towards a nearby corridor. All three got up and followed him.
This place was isolated enough that echoing voices wouldn't be heard from outside.
His golden eyes swept over each of them, one by one. "Explain," he said finally.
The three looked at each other. Lyra, usually the first to speak, she even hesitated this time. She grumbled sullenly. "What do you want us to explain? That stupid northerner whelp provoked me, I fell for it! Grok is a complete wall! Elara already..."
"How," Aurelion's voice cut off Lyra's excuses. "...much longer do you plan to embarrass me? Explain that."
Lyra's face flushed with anger. "Embarrass?! They were the ones who-"
"They were what?!"He took a step towards them. His eyes burned with pure fury. "Did you just stand there and let them insult you, humiliate you?! Did you throw away everything I taught you, that precious time I spent on you, fall to the level of those five morons, and then get beaten like a bunch of novices?!"
Aurelion's gaze turned to Kael, who was trying to stand like a rock but was clearly shaken internally. "You!" he hissed. "Someone as strong, as resilient as you! How could you be so easily crushed by that stupid Orc this morning, in a wrestling match no less?! What did I tell you? Not just defense, look for an opportunity! But what did you do? You remained motionless like a rag doll under his brute force! It would have been better for your bones to break than to end up like that!"
His gaze shifted to Lyra "And you? Where's your intelligence? Couldn't you see that bastard provoke you with his words? It was so obvious he would lure you into a trap! What good are your instincts if your mind doesn't control them?! If you're angry, then tear him to pieces! Don't show up before me with a ugly sorry face like that!"
Then his gaze turned to Elara, whose eyes were filled with tears. Aurelion's wrath intensified another notch, his voice filled with contempt, almost disgust. "And you... Your cowardice doesn't even surprise me anymore! But at least fight! When that child caught you, when he tried to choke you, why did you give up? If you had fought until you passed out instead of surrendering, then maybe I would have some respect for you! But you succumbed to your fear again! This is pathetic!"
He took a deep, shaky breath. His clenched fists trembled slightly. He composed himself a little, but that cold fire in his eyes was still there. "I'm not angry because you lost. We can all lose. But I'm angry because you performed so dishonorably, so humiliatingly! Where is your self respect? Where are the things I taught you? You betrayed me and yourselves!"
He glared at them. "I'll be clear. If I see you lose again. Just one more time, in such a pathetic, weak manner... You won't have to fear those five stupid Northerners or that green shit, you'll have to fear me directly. Don't you ever forget that."
"I'm not training you so your opponents can crush you more easily in the next fight!" Aurelion continued. "I'm training you to win, or at least to fight! Now stop answering me! Go and think about what the hell you did today! Where you went wrong, why you made those mistakes, and how you won't make them again! Tomorrow morning, an hour before usual, you'll be in front of the warehouse wall. And I want to hear a solution for what happened today, not an explanation!"
After his final words, he turned his back. He didn't feel the need to look at their surprised, scared, and ashamed faces.
He quickly walked away down the corridor, his shoulders still tense. He had taught them a lesson, yes. But this outburst... it made him feel like he was walking on the edge of his own control again. This storm within him... how difficult it was to manage. He needed solitude, his own thoughts.
He didn't want to go outside. He didn't want to mingle with the other children, to see their stupid games or empty gazes. He turned into another corridor, less used, usually only frequented by cleaners, narrow and windowless, where the shadows were deeper.
It was cool here, quiet. He stopped in the middle, leaned his forehead against the cold stone, and closed his eyes. He tried to calm down, but it was futile. The scenes from the courtyard replayed in his mind.
Kael helplessly flailing under Grok... Lyra falling into the trap of that stupid northerner's words and being pinned... And Elara... That headlock, those fear filled, surrendered eyes... These images were nauseating. This helplessness, this weakness... He couldn't stand it.
And then, involuntarily, that other image seeped into his mind. Blurry, pale, but the feeling was burning.
A young boy. Cornered, shadows advancing on him. There was pain on his face, but what was truly devastating was that resigned, sorrowful expression.
He wasn't fighting. He wasn't resisting. He was just... waiting. Because he was naive. Because he believed that patience was a virtue. How foolish he was! What good had that patience done? Nothing! It had only led to more humiliation, more pain, and eventually, the slow death of that spirit...
That fragile glimmer of hope in that boy's eyes now turned into pure, unadulterated disgust within Aurelion.
His heart began to pound as if it couldn't fit in his chest. His face burned, blood rushing to his cheeks. He opened his eyes, staring angrily into the darkness of the corridor. That boy... That weak, naive, victim... He hated him! He hated that submission, that foolish belief, that spirit that chose to wait even when it wanted to fight!
The scene he had witnessed in the courtyard today... They were all reflections of that, that helplessness! Linnea's words about "control," Roric's hints about "patience"... They all seemed empty now. If control meant being crushed like in the past, then to hell with control! Power! That's what mattered! To resist! To crush instead of being crushed!
"NEVER!" he whispered. He gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. In that moment, the physical pain he felt in the corridor was insignificant. The gnawing restlessness within him, that ambition, that burning wrath he had tried to suppress for years, surged to the surface.
Instead of leaning his hand against the wall, he clenched his fist. It was so tight that his knuckles turned white. The storm within him swept away the last remnants of his logic.
His nails… sharp, short, but still capable of making an impact… dug mercilessly into his palm, under his skin.
Hrrsshh!
A suppressed groan escaped his lips.
Warm, sticky blood began to seep from his palm, between his fingers. The sharp, burning pain of the open wounds seemed to somewhat quell the turmoil within him. But it wasn't enough.
He was harming himself, yes. But this pain, it was as if it was the only thing that suppressed the memory of that helplessness, that made him feel that control, however twisted, was still somehow his.
When he slowly unclenched his fist, his palm was covered in blood. Deep nail marks, torn pieces of skin… His hand was trembling, but at that moment, in the middle of the blood in his palm, the lines of the pale golden scale shaped mark faintly glowed with a flickering light.
This wasn't bright and outward like Linnea's healing light. It was more like an instantaneous, internal illumination seeping from under the skin. The light, as if reacting to the pain, throbbed for the duration of a heartbeat and then slowly faded, returning to that pale golden, motionless pattern.
Aurelion held his breath. Was what he saw real, or an illusion? He blinked, looking at his bleeding palm again. The Mark was there, silent and motionless as always. But that brief moment... That flickering light... Was it a trick of his mind? Or, on the verge of completely losing control, had the Mark... somehow reacted?