Call of the Weaver

Chapter 7

The training turned out to be even harder than Nirah expected—and her hopes weren't too high to begin with. She was starting to get confident after her first class with Fvyobei, but she was very quickly disappointed to learn that outwardly manifesting your energy for a moment was far easier than actually controlling it. And that was still the easiest part.

Clearly, Myhi didn't like making things easy for anyone.

"Get those legs moving and start practicing," he barked at the group. After a few days, Nirah was ready to join others in the group training, and today, her fraction of Tahafvni division was training with Hamoi and Buvjani.

When Myhi was done splitting them up into pairs, Nirah was stuck with a Hamoi guy whose name she didn't even know. Perhaps she would've tried to introduce herself and inquire about his name... if he didn't swiftly start his attack and flip her over, throwing her onto the floor like she was no heavier than a feather.

She picked herself up from the ground and took her combat stance again, but the second attempt ended the same way. It was alright, she reminded herself. Fighting was never her strong suit, and compared to everyone else in that room, she was merely a beginner.

Everyone else had their own partners to worry about, so she had no trouble accepting her shame in silence. And she would be perfectly fine continuing to do so if Myhi didn't decide to make her an example of the day.

Now her friends, as well as the entirety of Hamoi and Buvjani divisions, all gathered to watch her get beaten to dust over and over again. With every attempt, Myhi would find something about her that wasn't quite right—she was either too slow or she hit too soon, her feet were in a wrong position, or her arms were too stiff.

She couldn't bring herself to be mad at the Hamoi guy she was trying to best. After all, he was just following orders, and he seemed pretty good at combat, at least from Nirah's limited experience. Not to mention that he was taller and had way stronger muscles than hers. No, it was completely natural for him to defeat her.

The only one who annoyed her was Myhi. She wasn't entirely sure if the instructor was doing all of that on purpose, but she wouldn't be able to learn much if she tried to fight someone blindly with barely any explanation on what she was supposed to do. Maybe he was just being his regular, mean self to another new recruit like the girls warned her, so she didn't take his actions to heart. Still, he had plenty of reasons to be frustrated as she hit the ground with a loud thud yet again.

Nirah lost count of how many times she embarrassed herself by the time Myhi finally dismissed the class. Since she was the one to take the most beating, he ordered the resident Alfei to help her with the injuries.

The Alfei in question was a girl not much older than her, and she looked almost excited when Nirah limped to her side and sat down. Her back was killing her. It suffered the most whenever she collided with the floor, although the rest of her body wasn't in such a great shape either. She let the girl slowly trail her hands over her back, feeling the warmth fill her body and replacing the pain that was there moments before.

It took her a few minutes, but once she felt better, Nirah thanked the girl and watched her scoot out of the training room, her red uniform trailing behind her. Now that she was the only one left, Nirah followed suit, although slower than the girl. She almost forgot Myhi was still there when she spotted him next to the door. He was looking through some papers of his, and she hoped he was too engrossed in them to notice her leaving.

Her hopes proved to be futile when she heard his deep, rumbling voice say, "It's not good to have such a thick skin, you know."

Nirah stopped in her tracks. Was that supposed to be another one of his rude comments? "Excuse me?" she decided to reply this time.

He put the papers away and looked at her, his stern gaze analyzing every inch of her face. "Do you know what's the best way to unlock your true powers?" he drawled out.

"What?" Nirah asked. She had no idea what was he getting at with all those roundabout remarks, but she probably should've used to that as well.

"Anger," Myhi simply said. Seeing the confused look on her face, he explained, "Those meditations and breathing exercises, or whatever the hell Esikov is giving you, are nothing. That's just mellowing you down. You're soldiers. What you need is to feel strong emotions; to fight."

After she thought about it for a bit, she had to admit that his reasoning made at least some sense, although she was quite reluctant about his methods. Even then, she still didn't know what he expected of her.

"Is there someone you hate?" he asked her.

Was there? No, she immediately thought. Sure there might've been some people she disliked every now and then, but she wasn't someone who would hate others so easily.

But, if she had to choose anyone, there was only one candidate to warrant such feelings. She recalled the sight of her mother's tear-stricken face struggling to breathe, gasping for air—and the ruthless general who took the air from her lungs and took pleasure in her suffering.

"I think there is," she finally replied.

Myhi seemed somewhat surprised by her answer, albeit pleasantly. He placed one of the training dummies at the center of the room and beckoned her over. "Fight it," he ordered when she approached.

"How?" she asked.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Just use your energy. I trust you've learned how to do that by now?" Nirah nodded. "Good. Imagine that person you hate as you're attacking."

Like most things in her training sessions, that sounded much easier said than done. She already struggled with maintaining energy when she was focused on it and being careful, let alone trying to use it to attack.

Her first attempt failed miserably. She formed a shaky blob of energy in the palm of her hand, and then tried to redirect it to the training dummy, but it dissolved mid-air as soon as it got detached from her hand. After a few more tries, it got a little further, but still not far enough to reach the dummy.

"Come on, focus," Myhi barked out.

What did he think she was doing? The last time she checked, she hadn't came there to drink tea and discuss the latest clothes she got. She focused her energy into her hand again, and then flung it out towards the training dummy. This time, she hit it. Great. But Myhi wasn't supposed to be the target of her frustration.

Once again, she recalled the heartless general's face. Her mother's cries. The look on her face as she begged the generals not to take her away.

With some repetition, her energy grew more stable, but her attacks were more aggressive. She pretended that there was no training dummies in front of her. Instead, General Fvreloni stood there, alone and defenseless, giving Nirah the perfect opportunity to repay her for the pain she inflicted upon her mother.

She froze when, instead of energy, something else moved, landing with a soft clang on the other side of the room.

"Ah, there goes my badge," Myhi said, patting his chest. She turned around to look at him. The spot on his uniform where every instructor held their badge was now empty, but she was sure it was there before. Did... did she really do that? "Well, that's another Ylfunoi," he mumbled as he left to retrieve it.

"Wow, you're a natural." Nirah jolted at the sound of another voice. Alya stood in the doorway, her fiery uniform sticking out like a sore thumb against the paled walls and dark brown of the wooden doors. When did she get here?

"What are you doing here, Montori?" Myhi asked after he retrieved his badge.

Nirah didn't even hear Alya's answer before she was sucked into a whirlpool of racing thoughts. Ylfunoi. She was controlling metal. One of the first things she learned when she arrived was that every Summoner's element was supposed to match their personalities or something they were drawn to—it was none other than Alya who first told her about that. But she didn't feel as strong, or unbreakable as metal. She felt more like a thin piece of paper, or a twig that would snap at the slightest impact.

"Hey, are you coming?" Alya called, waving a hand in front of her face and snapping her out of her thoughts. At her confused look, she only said, "Come on, I'll take you to Vygnis."