Death Frost | Deathsworn #2

Chapter 22 ❆ Favor

With Elion's help, I was able to acquaint myself with the technique a little better than before. Like he said, he had impeccable defense. It would seem to me that the principles of their warrior ways were first founded on the importance of defense and breaking through that defense—which was quite timely and advantageous for me. Unless able to force them to move against their opponent, they would not consider the other party as their equal.

It was a fascinating tradition, but it was very frustrating for me to experience. Elion looked smug when I was unable to break through—even while utilizing the technique that Mistress Veronika imparted to me.

I suspected I was not strong enough nor skilled enough to use it yet. As it is, my understanding was still quite limited. Still, I was able to further it a little with his aid.

In the end, late midnight came. Mistress Kora went out looking for me and pulled me in for bedtime, thanking Elion in Simarian tongue as he towed me back. I smiled wryly, having forgotten the flow of time, and waved our Vertvalden neighbor a goodbye as we retreated back into our tents.

Though I was admonished, they did not scold me too hard. My intentions were well enough, and it wasn't like I was doing anything wrong—though it was not really nice for a girl to be hanging out with a dude so late at night. My mistresses were still the conservative and overprotective type, especially in that regard.

Eren had fallen asleep by the time I returned. She was sweating a little, so Mistress Veronika stuffed a dry towel on her back to alleviate the discomfort of wet clothes. Maun, on the other hand, seemed to still be awake. He'd peeked out of the tent where he and Mistress Kora were staying in when we arrived.

I went out to wash up for the night, deciding to leave my hair dry for the meantime, and ready myself for bed. After which, I tucked myself under the covers, taking sanctuary under the flimsy tents that barely kept out the freezing night air. It was still the dry season, so we did not have much trouble dealing with the weather, but I was rather concerned when the rainy days would come. Storms would be frequent then. I wasn't sure whether our current living arrangements would be bearable under such conditions.

I remembered the monk's offer about being given better beds and whatnot—but that was until we could admit ourselves as disciples of the Temple. There was some uncertainty. And even if it did happen, that was not until a month or so. With the pace we're taking in this competition, it should last quite a while.

Well, they did say that before. The final selection process was a lengthy one.

I plopped on the blankets, shuffling across the tough but padded surface as I curled into a more comfortable position. I could feel some ache rising from my muscles due to overwork along with the rippling stings rising from small wounds I couldn't care less about.

All will be better, I assured myself. All will be better soon.

I cursed the Empress in my mind in place of counting sheep. Though it was quite gruesome, imagining her being tortured and suffering brought me greater comfort than any sheep.

I was able to sleep easier like that.

I did not always dream of my past life, but there were times, like now, wherein the memories of it would spill forward—bursting from the hidden recesses of my mind. I was more vulnerable to these flashbacks in my dreams. Perhaps it was because the guards of my consciousness were down, and my guilt would worm its way to remind me of my failures. I did not think much of it now, considering how seemingly irrelevant all of it was with my current life, but a part of me knew it wasn't so.

The loud clanging of bells from the high towers called the people into its walls. High, lofty. The walls were thick, the floor of waxed marble. Pigeons flitted within its towering ceilings, their wings reverberating in beat with the singing choir.