Kierna

Viscous blood flew from Kierna’s mouth as her head snapped to the side. Tonkil’s bony fist pulped her lips. The crushing pressure made her eyes tear up, flooding her eyes with warmth as the sting of her busted nose radiated pulses of agony in rhythm with her heart. Tonkil’s dark eyes widened in a mix of surprise and excitement, he surged forward with his fists raised, eager to end the fight. Kierna had to fight to keep a bloody smile from emerging.

The boy was just hitting the edges of puberty, his body awkward and uncoordinated. He had long arms though and she had been struggling to get within his guard. She had been a hair too slow on her last dodge, allowing the continuously flowing aether in her limbs to sputter. Tonkil was eager to end the fight, his stamina terrible. Now he lowered his own guard as he rushed in.

Kierna kicked him in the head with her left foot. The sharp impact of bone on bone hurt, blending in with her myriad of miseries. Tonkil dropped like a severed puppet. His body went boneless and he sprawled to her feet, unconscious almost immediately.

Kierna had to struggle to keep her discipline, from raising her arms and shouting in excitement. It was looked down upon to gloat over fallen foes she had been told. Repeatedly.

As she trudged out of the sparring ring, ignoring her downed foe, she couldn’t keep her eyes from searching out her friends. Dion struggled with the sparring. She was so slight and at this point in their aether cultivation her own prodigious talent couldn’t shine through. She normally managed to find a way to be at least ambulatory at the end of her spars.

The last week had been a blur, highlighted by Kierna and Dion being the fastest to figure out how to get their aether to flow. Aether naturally congregated in living things, resting easily in a state of existing non-existence. Kierna didn’t understand what that meant, but she knew the results of getting that stable aether to start flowing through her. With every breath in, she pulled ambient aether out of the air and forced it to flow through her freshly made channels. The channels were something else that were real, but not physical. They existed and could be damaged, but were impossible to actually see.

Aether cultivation seemed to thrive on things that both existed and didn’t. It was enough to make Kierna’s head hurt. Dion thrived on it though, quickly overtaking the dark haired boy with the scar, Aster. He had been furious when first Dion, and then Kierna, had outpaced him. He had finally caught up to them yesterday, keeping a steady flow of aether through his body while not meditating.

The effects were immediate. Improved stamina, recovery, strength. Kierna felt better than she ever had before, as if she got a full night's sleep every day. The gains she had made were noticeable, her muscles quickly growing from stringy to hard compact steel bars. She had to refrain from staring at the mirror as she flexed, every muscle in her arms standing out in sharp relief. She had even managed to build the faintest shadows of a six-pack.

Dion lacked the size to really stand out, even with her skill. She was a wiry girl, built for long stamina draining marathons. Not the fast paced and furious spars that could start and end in the space of a few seconds. She was currently weaving in and out of a flurry of blows as Niera, the bucktooth girl, pursued her with single minded determination.

They kicked up the sand as they slid and moved around each other, Niera always the aggressor. Dion sent kicks toward the larger girl's legs when she could, otherwise just letting her run around and exhaust herself. It wasn’t to last though, the ring was just too small. Niera lunged forward, accepting a heavy quick to her knee that nearly buckled her leg. Her fist smashed into Dion’s face, rocking her head back. Kierna winced in sympathy, her own battered face still sending pulses of agony through her.

It lasted only a few more blows before Dion surrendered. Her face was swallowed, red and black bruising starting already around her eyes. Her nose was crooked and blood flowed like water down her face and on to her training uniform. Dion ignored it all though, a master of the pain, bowing to Niera before leaving the ring. Kierna should have waited for a healer to revive Tonkil before leaving. She had been to excited though.

It was the one week anniversary of their arrival on the mountain and they would receive their rankings for the first time. Kierna was certain they would place high, they excelled in everything. Aside from Dion’s performances in the sparring ring. Pavel would release the listing and banishments tonight after dinner. The squad vs.squad challenges would commence starting tomorrow. Pavel had changed his mind, allowing them a week of working and training together.

“Stupid long arms,” Dion complained as she walked closer. Kierna looked at the bloody girl closely, searching for hints of discomfort or pain. If she felt them, she hid them well. There was no care as she started to walk beside Kierna as they made their way back to the healers tent off to the side of the sandy courtyard. Winners were healed all the way back to full health. Losers had their bones set. Dion was a walking bruise after a week, more contusion than human.

“You are just jealous.”

“Of Niera? You’ve heard the girl laugh. No one can be jealous of that.” Dion shook her head at the ridiculousness of being told she was jealous. Kierna smiled slowly, part of her relishing the pain it caused her. It was a reminder she was triumphant, and that was worth a bit of pain.

“You just wish you were taller than a goblin. It’s ok to admit it. No one will judge you for telling the truth,” Kierna kept needling her as they stood in line with dozens of others. Lots of bloody noses, and one poor bastard was clutching an obviously broken arm. Kierna ignored them all and focused on harassing her smaller friend.

“Size doesn’t matter once we reach a higher level of cultivation. When I can send a blast of energy that can level mountains, who cares if I’m only five feet.”

“Why are you lying?” Kierna asked.

“Nobody will care, I’m telling you,” a hint of heat entered Dion’s voice as she turned to glare at Kierna.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Oh I know that. I meant lying about being five feet tall.”

“Why are we friends?”

“It was me or Niera.”

“Good point.” Dion fell silent, looking forward to the slowly inching line and the bored looking healers. Kierna took the moment of silence to observe the natural aether around her, a habit she had started to come into lately. She couldn’t see it, not yet anyways, but she could feel the eddies of it all around. They were like air currents, twisting and dancing around, flowing through things rather than around.

A whirlpool of aether surrounded the healers. Formations carved around the small structure they worked out of helped aether travel into the building. It would help the healers recover quicker as they burned through their own personal stores. It made it a struggle to breathe for her and the others though. They were just starting their path and they were in the presence of a dense fog of power. Each breath threatened to burst them from the pressure, straining their shallow aether channels.

Kierna regulated her breathing, struggling with her recent lessons of only allowing a small portion of the ambient aether in. The first lesson was how to breathe aether in and get it flowing through their bodies. It had taken her two days to figure it out. The current struggle was to restrict the amount of aether with every breath. Dion had taken to it like a dragon and a golden hoard. Kierna struggled though. She glanced down at her diminutive friend and tried to repress the stab of jealousy that shot through her.

“Who do you think gets eliminated today?” Kierna asked, desperate to break her own budding jealousy up with trivial small talk. The heat of the day was making her sweat and only adding to her misery.

“Hestor for sure. He still can’t connect to his aether and he loses more matches than I do,” Dion said immediately. The boy was small, only thirteen and hadn’t started to go through puberty yet. He was small and whiny, his voice nails on the chalkboard as he complained about everything. Kierna nodded, agreeing with her. She wouldn’t be sad to see him go.

“Will he eliminate one from each squad or just the ten worst in general?” Kierna kept up her questions. Her own anxiety was beginning to grow and show, filling her with nervous energy. She almost wished she had another spar to participate in, just to give her something to do.

“I think so. He wants to generate competition amongst all of us. Only ten of us get to succeed. I think he’ll keep eliminating the weakest from every squad until we trim the weakest enough that we can start competing as a company.” Kierna thought she detected just a hint of hope in that explanation. If Pavel kept up his elimination based on squads, the two of them wouldn’t be able to come out together as the top ten for their company. Neither of them wanted to think about that.

Ryen led the healers as normal. The tall, stately woman looked down at them with warm brown eyes. Her curly black hair was short to her scalp and she was accessorizing with a simple silver chain around her long neck. She was watching her healers with razor sharp focus, ready to step in if there was even the hint of a mistake.

She glanced at them and gave Kierna a long suffering grin. Ryen had healed her every single day so far. The healer's aether was more familiar than her own at this point. Kierna gave her a small wave and Ryen just rolled her eyes and walked over to them, ignoring the aggrieved looks of annoyance as she walked past ten other candidates to reach them.

“If it’s not my favorite punching bags. You two know you can not get hit, right?” Ryen’s voice was deep and husky, amusement lacing through every syllable. Ryen took in the two of them for a second, assessing their injuries with a practiced eye before starting her work on Dion. As usual. The smaller girl was normally a mess whenever they came in.

Kierna watched as Dion’s nose straightened with the slightest of pops. The angry red and black bruising faded just a bit, as if it was a few days old. The fact it was bruises on top of other bruises meant that Ryen had probably healed the oldest away. She wasn’t allowed to heal them to full health, no matter how much she wanted to. Kierna was certain it physically hurt the woman to see them all walking around hurt and not healing them.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Dion deadpanned.

“How else would we get to see you?” Kierna said, growing impatient to have her own nose fixed. It was getting hard to breathe, the clotting blood clogging her nostrils.

“All done. Eat well, sleep better, don’t get punched in the face at all. Doctors orders,” Ryen told Dion, letting her hands fall away from Dion’s much better looking face. It only looked like she had been professionally beaten last week rather than this morning. They would be in the sparring ring tomorrow, regardless of whatever the doctor ordered. Pavel had shown himself to be a relentless and taciturn man. He spoke little beside proclamations and let his masked and unnamed instructors train them.

“My turn, my turn!” Kierna chanted, stepping up and into the older woman's personal space. Ryen just rolled her eyes again, her warm hands cupping Kierna’s face and the familiar flow of aether rolled through her. Kierna paid attention to what it was doing, how it was lingering at the wounds, soaking into them. She felt the aspects that clung to Ryen’s aether, the thought of regeneration, of wounds knitting closed. Kierna was a long way away from being able to aspect aether like that, but she wanted to have a head start. Being able to heal herself would be a lifesaver.

It took Ryen only a minute to heal Kierna, then she chided them both and told them to kick rocks. Kierna led Dion out of the small building, heading towards the hall and dinner. Anxiety was rocketing through her now. She knew logically she was safe, if not in first place for her squad. But, what if she wasn’t? What if there was a hidden requirement she wasn’t meeting? The thoughts spiraled through her as she sat down and ate in silence. Her mood ruined by the steady stream of paranoid possibilities.

“Stop being moody. You’re fine. I should be worried. I haven’t won a single spar all week,” Dion groused at her. As usual, Dion was curled over her plate. Kierna never said anything about her eating habits, of guarding her food and shoveling it into her mouth as fast as possible. Topher’s World wasn’t a lush paradise, but she had always had food. She knew others weren’t quite as lucky.

“Please, you’re the safest of everyone here. No one else can do what you can with aether.”

“So far. This is just the basics. Who cares if my control is perfect. If we both don’t keep improving, we won’t make it.”

Kierna nodded. Dion was determined, she attacked every obstacle in the most logical and efficient way possible. Anxiety was illogical and she didn’t tolerate it. Kierna again felt that familiar pang of jealousy. The hall was full of voices, the candidates having grown used to each other over the week. The edge in their voices was impossible to miss. Ten of them wouldn’t be here for breakfast. It weighed on them all, flavoring every interaction as they all wondered, will this person be here tomorrow?

It was almost a relief when Pavel floated in. His feet two feet off the ground, as he swept his eyes along the tables with his normal apathetic stare. Kierna knew he was weighing and judging them, he just didn’t allow that to show. He was in many ways similar to Dion.

“Hestor, Olec, Grigg, Han, Tuon, Basil, Zac, Marjorie, Blake, and Vince. You are dismissed,” Pavel didn’t wait or give notice before he destroyed the hopes and dreams of ten children. He floated over them, strands of aether touching each of those he called, gently forcing them out of their seats and out of the hall. Their crying pleas went ignored, nine hundred and seventy-three sets of eyes were locked on their own tables Nobody wanted to risk witnessing the disgrace, knowing that likely they too would have to experience it too.

“Louis. Mike. Harvey. Alden. Grace. Neo. Fletch. Noelle. Kierna. Birdy. You are the top of your squads this week. Your instructors will have more detailed lists later.” Pavel ended his quiet lecture and floated away, leaving the cafeteria in stunned silence. Dion’s small hand gripped Kierna’s forearm in an iron grip. Kierna couldn’t decide if it was in celebration or anger.