“You’re at your sixteenth moon?” Osias cried in surprise.

“And?” Nico scoffed.

“No, but… look at you. Even you would think that’s the face of a man in his thirties.” Osias exclaimed.

The two were resting side by side atop a pile of discarded training dummies as they watched the dozens of other spars taking place in the vast courtyard. They were sharing a sizable water skin, once filled to the top with cold icy water.

“Even your body says otherwise,” Oasis added, inspecting the bronze body covered in hair and sweat. Muscles rolled off as Nico seemingly had no useless parts to him.

But Nico simply spat out a mouthful of blood onto the ground sullenly.

…Because of how intense they crossed steel, Mance said it was enough for the rest of the day. At first, they both protested to continue, but as they sat and watched, they understood that they were far from normal.

Everyone else, even the First Ordeals were… reserved, to say the least. Much less their skin and flesh, even their armor wasn’t even damaged aside from a few trades of dents and scratches.

Osias brought a hand to scratch his head as he thought perhaps this was why Mance seemed so stern and foul-tempered in his tone all the time — except when he dealt with him and Nico.

“Say, you mentioned you were sent here as punishment for killing two people you shouldn’t… what happened?”

Nico looked at him and reached for the water skin before responding as Osias passed it off.

“A First Tail. Upon completing his First Ordeal he tried to get back at me, an Ordinary at the time. First, he beat me down publicly along with his friend — another of the main clan. She was his woman I think.”

Osias continued to listen intently. After all, this was his first time interacting with a person directly from the Tailed Brothers… Osias was already learning a lot of their practices and dynamics.

“They were rich and had a higher position in the clan. Their bloodline was more connected with the head’s family. But he was weaker than me, even with his ascent. It was only because… I was foolish enough to think he wouldn’t attack me so brazenly.”

‘Bloodline…’ Osias wondered.

“And this was deep in the Heartlands as well, in the mountain city of Davos… it was unheard of for two of the main clan to fight in public as others watched. Anyway, I recovered and waited. My fifteenth moon… I underwent my First Ordeal. Upon my completion, I snuck into his bedchambers atop his family’s tower and killed him along with the wench that joined him that day.” Nico recounted with a murderous grin.

“But then I was imprisoned. Shackled for months.”

Nico took a mouthful of water as though he washed down his memory.

“His family caught me as I turned to escape, but the Sixth Elder of our main clan discovered my confinement — called me a promising elite in the making and overturned my execution, instead sending me here for ten years or until my Second Ordeal where I’ll be named a Second Tail.”

Osias wondered if it was because of the coming war… but he held his tongue.

He exhaled sharply at the tale of Nico’s past. It was true… Nico was strong and experienced. Probably honed as a child and shaped into a warrior of the Tailed Brothers. However, he lacked the experience of true life and death battles he was sent out here alone… Nico was used to fighting those below him, not above. Probably another reason why his elders sent him here.

His battle strength was probably just shy of what Osias thought an elite of the First Ordeal was — sharing the same sentiments as his ‘Sixth Elder’. Osias was bound to lose if Nico had used all his strength from the start… he needed an Ordeal Ability for himself.

But it was Nico’s turn to ask him something:

“You… are you truly a mountain brigand? I haven’t seen your kind myself, but I’ve heard of the rumors amongst the others.”

“Is it because I’m strong as an Ordinary?”

Nico nodded.

But Osias laughed, both at himself and the guise he put up with.

“Aye, I am.”

“How do you… fight like that? Even as an Ordinary your strength is unfounded. Even your essence control. More important is your style. You fight violently, both to your foes and yourself. As though you fight already knowing you’ll be wounded. I… I didn’t expect it. ”

Osias paused before responding.

‘He is young… if he is of the sixteenth moon, then he was only a boy in the Heartlands of the Tailed Brothers during the fall of the Red Sky.’ Osias quickly surmised.

“That’s just how I am. I’ll disregard anything that won’t kill me if it will bring me closer to your neck. Is it strange?”

“It is. I haven’t seen the like before. It’s both reckless but thoughtful. Don’t you feel pain? I already lurched back when you stomped on my tail… even when you battered my ribs in, it took all I had to will my tail to swig the axe.”

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Osias stifled a small chuckle.

“It’s just pain. Rather than dying, I’d rather be in pain. Have you ever seen a cornered beast before? Or perhaps a beggar with nothing to lose?”

“I’ll fight with that same fervor every time. I’ll live. Survive. Even if it seems backward with how reckless it looks. I’ll sacrifice what's unneeded without a second thought.”

Nico nodded slowly in understanding as they both turned their attention to the countless spars.

“I came here almost half a year ago. But with all of these clansmen, you’ll find it difficult to find someone like yourself. Not just strong, but eager to fight and learn. It’s odd. They’re training to fight against monsters, but they can’t bring themselves to hurt their fellow clansmen. They’re so far away from being accepted into the main company outside the walls of the fortress.” Nico said.

“They must hate you,” Osias remarked with a small grin.

“A lot.” Nico agreed.

Osias could almost see it. Nico walks down the clansmen one by one, ruthlessly shattering their armor with the flat of his axe in mercy.

“Have you been on the ventures outside?” Osias then asked.

“No. Not because of Clan Grimm, but because I needed more time to get used to the tail and incorporate it with my essence control and battle style. Without you, I was about to relent and gain experience among the Path Beasts regardless if I was ready or not, but with you, I’ll stay inside the walls for a little while longer.”

Understanding, Osias nodded to himself. It made sense after all. It was an entirely new limb that needed time to become accustomed to. It was hefty and was able to move unlike any other limb, throwing off the balance of his body.

“Is that part of the reason why you were sent to Clan Grimm?”

“Mm. Their style fits me better… though it was a trade for the insights of controlling my tail with the main clan. But it was enough for me — I shouldn’t have killed the First Tail, especially with the coming war. The reason that I was only imprisoned was the same reason I shouldn’t have killed.”

“Because the Tailed Brothers need to be as strong as possible?”

“Mm.”

…Then after a long pause as they watched the sparring of others, Nico asked in a quiet tone:

“Again tomorrow, Osias?”

A faint smile touched Osias’s mouth.

“I’ll kill you tomorrow.”

—

Mance called an end for today as the sun began to set. Many of the other clansmen collapsed to their backs, heaving heavily under their equipment. Swords, axes, shields, and spears dropped and rolled along with them despite Mance’s roars telling them not to treat their weapons as such.

Osias and Nico had already disembarked earlier… they couldn’t gain anything from lingering and watching the others spar so half-heartedly. It was only then that Osias understood the frustration of Mance and why he was willing to have Osias continue training the way he did.

He also understood why Nico seemed so disheartened before he came upon Osias, perhaps the reason why Mance sent Nico for him too.

‘These people… they’re untested — even the First Ordeals.’

Osias reflected upon his odd findings as he wandered through the corridors leading towards the kitchen, finding the bald baker, Umber, for a meal.

It was the same baker that Myra stole the cheese from… and the only reason why Osias was introduced to the kind bald man was that Myra wanted him to distract the baker as she took a handful of the cheese.

He shook his head at the thought as he turned the corner towards the kitchen and then he—

“Ah!” A yelp sounded.

Osias looked down and to his dismay… he found Myra — with her apron’s pockets full.

“Come back here, I know it was you, Myra!” A deep voice bellowed.

“Move, Osias!” Myra whispered as she barreled past him with her hands securing her bouncing pockets.

Her quiet, but quick steps reminded him of a scurrying rat.

“Ah, Osias boy! It’s you… did you see that girl come across the hall anywhere?”

“Who, Myra?”

“Who else would thieve me of my cheese?” Umber cut back.

“No, I’m here for a meal though. But… I saw dashing women that way.” Osias pointed to the other end of the corridor.

Umber turned and bolted after his directions.

“Thank you, boy! Help yourself with the meals!” Umber yelled out, his hefty steps echoing through the stone corridor.

Osias shook his head in remorse, but his hunger overtook his guilt. He walked into the vast kitchen that handled the meals of hundreds of people, many cooks and bakers alike bustling as they worked.

Quickly nabbing a platter, he left the kitchen before he was berated himself, and walked to his room with the food in hand… though he did grab an extra portion for the rat in his room.

Eventually, he came to his darkroom as his lantern wasn’t lit, but he sensed something was nestling inside.

“Myra, he’s not here.” He said.

But no response sounded.

A little irked, he called once more, “Myra!”

“Osias!” A small squeal sounded.

Setting down the platter of food onto a familiar table despite the darkness, he walked over to the far corner to light it up.

Illuminated, he found an odd figure outlined beneath his sheets… and a head of brown hair lying messily.

“You should stop stealing Umber’s cheese.” He scolded her with a small frown. “I don’t like covering for you.”

“But he lays it out there!” She complained as she turned to face him.

“Because he’s a baker! He’s going to use it!” He cut back at her, pulling the sheets off her body.

But she disregarded his scolding as her eyes darted to the food.

“You got some for me?”

Osias exhaled sharply before relenting:

“Go for it.”

She shot to her feet in glee as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Myra brought the platter over, setting it on his lap. She sat beside him as they shared the lavish meal of bread, cheese, and roasted Path Beast meat together.

“So, how was your training? I wasn’t able to make it because those three old bags told me to clean the privys!”

“You smell off.” He ignored her question.

“I washed myself…” Myra said with a pout.

He laughed as he finished a bite.

“I was lying. But it was a great day. You were right about Mance.”

Myra hummed in agreement.

“Did you get hurt?”

“A little.” Osias clutched his chest and where Nico’s tail wrapped.

He was going to continue on, but from the corner of his eye, he noticed that Myra’s face turned long and displeased.

“Myra… it’s normal to be hurt in training.” He said quietly.

“I know.” She replied musingly.

They ate in silence after that. Minutes passed and eventually, the vast platter was cleaned of its contents. Osias stood to return the dirted dish towards the kitchen, but a gentle hand grabbed and pulled his loose tunic from behind.

“Osias?” She asked.

He turned around to ask if everything was fine, but as he turned, she leaped off the bed and grabbed the wooden platter off his hands to pull him into a warm embrace.

His face turned a little flush, but the setting sun of red and orange shrouded it from the window.

“What is it, Myra?”

She paused and continued to hold him tightly, eventually his hand wrapped over her head gently before she quietly said, “Thank you for the meal.”

He stood motionless and dumbstruck as Myra stole the platter from and and left his dimly lit room. Her scent lingered in the air and on himself.

Inwardly trembling, he silently lowered his gaze to his palms… the same palms that touched her back and head.

‘The… mist. It was the mist that affected her, she must’ve stepped foot outside. ’

‘Sleep. I need to sleep.’

He dragged his numbed body a few steps to his familiar bed, plopped down heavily, and rolled to his back. He stared absentmindedly out the dark ceiling as he draped the sheets over himself… the same sheets Myra was under.

Osias sighed heavily, forcing down any stray thoughts other than sleep, and slowly closed his eyes.

‘I’ll… train harder tomorrow.’