Ants were still crawling along the inside of his skin, but Ren was more than ready to get back to training. Everything hinged on how he did in the trials. His whole life, his family, and–he admitted to himself–his pride. Everyone who’d spat on him since he came to Ardus, even Kareem, would eat their words if he became an Asbar.

He’d learned from the Flame-Blade herself. Of course he could do this. Ren had beaten Kareem when they sparred even though the boy had no doubt grown up with all kinds of tutors. And his closest friend, Parna, was a prodigy who’d been helping Ren refine all his moves. It was hard to believe it, but maybe this terrible year was all just what needed to happen to shape him into the boy—no, the man—who could distinguish himself in the trials.

This bed was driving him mad. Sure it was nice and warm in the medical tents due to the wood stoves that circulated heat, but the only times he was allowed up were for stretching his repairing muscles and to relieve himself. He needed to run or swing a practice sword or fight.

The one good thing was that he could feel his Qi even better now. Melfina had told him that if he generated Qi in his body and pushed it to his dantian, focusing on being able to hold more for longer, he’d eventually be able to condense it into a core without needing any cultivation resources. But… that was purely theoretical, and would probably take eighty years at the rate he was going.

Plus, it was really hard, and really boring. The only way he could manage to hold Qi there was by holding his breath. He’d inhale, drawing it to his dantian, exhale, condensing it, and then hold as long as he could as the energy roiled sparked within him and his lungs screamed for air. So far, whenever he resumed breathing, his energy would disperse back into his body.

He swung his legs off the cot and twisted his body, flexing his hand. Still sore, but it didn’t feel like he was going to rip apart when he moved. His uniform had been cleaned and he’d convinced Amhara to teach him how to sew so he could repair a couple rips in his tunic. The stitch she taught him was much easier than the suture patterns he’d practiced. Ren pulled on the fabric, testing its strength. It wasn’t perfect, but it held.

The curtain rustled and a woman entered, sun creased and thin. Her white robes were wrinkled, and a badge hung crooked upon her chest. “Trying to escape, recruit? That eager to break yourself, eh?”

Ren froze and their eyes locked. Hers were heavy with an authority that threatened to press him back into the bed. But he stayed strong.

“Is the Doc in?” called a man from the entrance.

Ren and the woman stayed like that until Amhara led a man in the brown trimmed tunic of a forester around the curtain. He carried a crate loaded with herbs and flowers. Objectively, it was a nice fresh scent, but something about it made Ren’s gut churn.

The woman finally turned and inspected the herbs. “Great harvest, soldier.” She picked a purple flower and twirled it between her fingers, giving it a whiff. “Where did you find this frost-lily? It is of incredible quality.”

“Thanks Doc,” said the forester. “Found it in a gulley half a day east of here.”

“Make sure to mark the location on our map. I’m busy now, but Doctor Harun will sign for it. Make sure he gives you an extra merit.”

He dipped his head and disappeared with Amhara leaving just Ren and the infamous Doc he’d been hearing about. She leveled her gaze back at him.

“Now, where were we?” She stepped toward him and he stumbled back onto the cot. “Were you about to tell me why you thought your judgment about medical matters was better than mine?”

Ren looked down.

“I thought not.” Her hands went to her hips. “Well, come on, stand up so I can inspect you.”

Ren obliged, disrobed, and she poked and prodded and had him move joints and twist and jump.

“Do you mind if I ask what all those herbs were for?” He still didn’t know why that smell had bothered him so much. Poison?

“Oh”—she grinned wickedly—“most of that was so I can make another batch of bone-flower broth. Miraculous stuff, if I don’t say so myself.”

Ren scowled.

“You know, you’re quite lucky. I can’t remember the last time I gave some to a recruit who didn’t come from some politician's family. Seems our visiting cultivator has a fondness for you. If it weren’t for her, you’d have missed not only the trials, but most of the advanced training season. As it is, I’m clearing you for training, so long as you don’t spar for the next day.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Ren was already putting his tunic on, ready to leave this tent and never come back, when she gripped his shoulder and leaned in.

“You should also give thanks to the Captain. He’s the one who got the investigators off your back. They wanted to bring you up on charges of insubordination and obstruction of military justice, but he’s wiser than he looks.”

Ren finished getting dressed, put the butterfly pin and his letters and the pieces of his ney in his pocket and paused. “Thank you Doc. Your help means more than you know.”

“Oh, I know exactly how much my help is worth. Now clear out so the nurses can clean up. And remember, no sparring.”

Ren nodded and walked to the edge of the curtain. “Could you thank Amhara and Doctor Harun for me too?”

“What color is my uniform?”

“What? White.”

“Okay, good, I thought maybe it was green or black or grey since you were asking me to deliver messages for you.”

Ren blushed, bowed, and left. He’d thank them some other time. For now, he needed to see some sunshine.

***

The drill sergeant wouldn’t have him, so Ren grabbed a training sword and headed into the woods. The winter blooms were alive. Icy blue and cold lavender and even the green rimmed crimson of Thornbane, a viney plant covered in thick barbs, with emerald blooms. As he recalled, Thornbane root had some medicinal uses, but the thorns were all coated in a neurotoxin that could cause paralysis if you got enough in you. He steered clear and pushed through some nettle until he emerged into a clearing. This would do.

Ren started slow, focusing on his breath, on circulating and containing his Qi the way Melfina had taught him. He began dropping into a deeper stance the way that Hamsa had shown him, and then moved through the basic forms. He imagined an opponent. Usually he struggled with shadow fighting, but Kareem Gutari’s face came easily to his mind. The imaginary Kareem swung and Ren stepped back, feigning weakness the way Parna had instructed, two steps back, Parna’s pivot off line of the attack, then he stepped in under a cut putting the force of his whole body into a pommel strike. His favorite move from Garam.

Several hours passed this way before the bell sounded faintly from the training grounds. Ren mopped the sweat from his forehead and ran back to return the sword. Soon they’d be serving dinner and Ren was starving.

He had just enough time to change into his backup uniform, which was thankfully not soaked with sweat, before making it to the mess hall. Grabbing a bowl, he got in line, eyes scanning for Parna. Nowhere to be seen.

The stew was salty and herby and had more meat than usual. He supposed, since it was the last day of basic, this was some kind of reward. There was a spot open at the table in the corner so he ducked his head and sat down.

“Damn, this is good today,” said a recruit at the end of the table. “Wonder who they took this meat from?”

“What do you mean?” said another.

“You know, because of the food shortage. I heard all food production is now being monitored by the Department of Agriculture, and the big cities are under strict rationing.”

“Well, I’m glad we aren’t.”

The men laughed and clinked the bowls, stew sloshing over the edges onto the table.

How could they waste their food, right after talking about that? Ren pushed down a wave of anger and loosened his too tight grip on his spoon. He needed to stay invisible.

It wasn’t worth risking being caught out alone again, so Ren went right back to his bunk after his meal. If he was lucky, he’d be asleep before the others got back and he wouldn’t have to deal with their insults.

***

Mist plumed from mouths, freezing on lips as the recruits lined up in formation for the march into Rattan. The first two phases of the trials would be in the city, apparently.

Months of drills had beaten a singular rhythm into them, and every step might have rumbled the earth with the force of a thousand men had it not been absorbed by the slurry mess of snow that sloshed underfoot.

Rattan grew larger as they tramped down the road following the stream down the valley. A grey mass of stone crowned by red shingles that popped into view over the walls.

Their steps grew even louder as they moved onto the paved streets, and their passage echoed between the walls of buildings. Several citizens poked their heads from shuttered windows, but the streets were mostly empty as they delved deeper.

Finally, they emerged into a square and their destination became evident. A towering circle of smooth stone engraved with images of battle. The arena. A huge gateway in the side of the structure–that Ren hadn’t noticed when he’d first come to the city months prior–was wide open and the company of men passed within.

A single strip of silver light ran the length of the passage. Then they emerged into a wide open space. The walls surrounded them, and even a thousand men looked like a small force in this space. Tiers of seats ringed the arena, all the way up to the top.

But a purple and gold glimmer dragged his eyes downward. Strange shapes—runes maybe—ringed the inside of the walls, glowing with a faint hum. Aether formations?

Murmurs began to spread throughout the crowd.

“Welcome recruits.” Captain Lurron’s voice boomed across the arena, larger than life. They all fell silent and Ren craned his neck to see the man far up above in one of the suites. “The trials begin today.

“As is tradition, there are three trials during which you will be assessed. Through the trials you can prove yourself. You can rise. This will also be your chance to experience our most effective training resource. The arena. Here we can simulate real battle. You will see blood, you will feel pain, but injury is just an illusion here. Every year at the end of training season you will have another opportunity to experience the Arena during the Rankings. But only the most advanced units are entitled to its use otherwise.

“You may have noticed that our famed Asbar have been missing from camp. That is because they’ve been training here. Impress them, and maybe you will someday soon as well.”

Ren felt the excitement around him even as his own heart started to beat faster.