Ronan arrived in the morning, a soft smile on his face.

Atlas, however, was the opposite. Swimming up to Ronan, he hurriedly asked, “Where is the bathroom around here?”

Ronan stalled in surprise, his soft smile turning into an amused grin before he burst out in a fit of laughter.

Atlas watched, unamused, as the Head Keeper slowly calmed down. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself. I’m about to embarrass myself but, no, please feel free to carry on,” he said sarcastically.

Ronan, his face flushed with laughter, struggled with a nod. “There’s… There’s a lavatory by the barracks,” he finally said, regaining his composure.

Atlas nodded quickly and sped off toward the barracks, which he had been to about an hour before for his breakfast. He had received raw fish and some sort of purple sea plant, with a side plate of hostile stares from the cadets.

Returning to Unit 1, he found Ronan leaning against a large piece of red coral that branched outwards nearby. Ronan seemed to be rubbing his back with a wince, but when he saw Atlas he quickly stopped.

“Finally ready, potty princess?” Ronan asked, struggling to keep his laughter in.

“Haha. I’m honored to be your morning entertainment,” Atlas said, unamused.

Ronan just grinned before gesturing to a seat inside Unit 1, on the soft moss floor.

“I’m to teach you Neoraian, the human language. However, I’ll go a step further and teach you about their history and traditions. Well, as much as I can, anyways. Keepers don’t interact outside their race, as you could probably tell,” Ronan began.

Atlas nodded, crossing his legs. Ronan started with a simple description of humans. They were the weakest of all the races in terms of biological structure, but their ingenuity and creativity provided them with unfounded power. They had a massive population that spanned all four continents in the world.

The four continents, Atlas found out, were Neorai, Bluron, Vosera, and Aepath.

‘Perhaps, I’ll see them all, someday,’ he thought.

Some humans could make use of their Core to generate spells, and these were usually the most dangerous. Usually. Otherwise, they had flourishing economies, dazzling inventions, and beautiful architecture. However, they also had massive wars, unfounded apathy, and tremendous greed.

Atlas found himself becoming more and more intrigued by the humans and longed to explore their lands and meet their people.

After a few more short lessons on the human race, Ronan admitted, “I do not know much. We do not interact with them often, as they are a dangerous race to attempt to make relations with.”

Afterward, Ronan started to teach Atlas how to speak Neoraian. The words and syllables flowed off the tongue and used the cheeks and lips to articulate. It was a more graceful language than Meral and Aberrian, and more poetic in its vocabulary. It had a word for almost everything, and one did not have to rely on context to convey a certain thought like they would have to in Meral or Aberrian. In this way, the language was more developed.

When an hour before midday arrived, Ronan said, “Have a small break before meeting with Marlin. You are to meet him in front of the palace, where you saw the other cadets training yesterday. Don’t be tardy or else he’ll make you regret it.”

When Ronan was gone, Atlas lay back in the soft moss.

‘In front of the palace? Those cadets were very hostile the first time they saw me. Is it a good idea to instigate their hate by training where they do?’ Atlas thought nervously. However, he had no choice.

After an hour of lazing about and feeling anxious was up, Atlas swam toward the front of the palace. He found Marlin talking with the cadet officer, the same one that had given Atlas a death stare the day before. Marlin’s deep red tail flicked back and forth through the water, and his long dark blue hair floated over his shoulders. He looked to be the perfect warrior with his deep-set scowl and muscular but lean body and rather handsome face.

Marlin, his orange eyes finding Atlas, bid farewell to the officer, before turning to Atlas. The officer gave Atlas an aggressive glare before moving in the direction of the barracks at the back of the palace. The training grounds were unoccupied and quiet, and only Atlas and Marlin were there.

“You’re here,” Marlin said, sizing Atlas up. “How I’m supposed to train a three-year-old is beyond me. You’ve hardly developed at all.”

Atlas shuffled awkwardly, staying silent. ‘I mean, the fish warrior is right… no use in arguing,’ he thought.

Marlin sighed. “I’m going to start you off with coordination exercises, and mobility training. You’re too young to start learning to swing a weapon or do any strength training. We’ll continue with those when you’ve grown a bit older.”

Atlas nodded while cursing his body. His mind may have grown rapidly, to the point of absurdity, but his body had no such advantages. It would grow with time, nothing else.

Marlin started with dodgeball, except Atlas wasn’t allowed to throw back. His pure focus was on dodging. Marlin picked out three sewn-together balls filled with sand from a rack nearby.

“I’ll use the water to speed up the balls when I throw them. Dodge,” he said simply.

“Oka-” Atlas was cut off as a ball came racing towards him at a speed he found impossible. It bashed into his stomach, and he felt the wind get knocked out of him. He flew backward through the water, tumbling.

He hurriedly funneled air back into his lungs to rid himself of the suffocating feeling. His face has gone red from fright and pain.

Looking up, he caught the hint of a smile on Marlin’s face. Atlas gritted his teeth, throwing the ball to the side so that it moved away from him. Righting himself, he got ready for another one.

Marlin raised an eyebrow in surprise, slightly impressed by the boy’s mettle. He threw another ball, just as fast, but Atlas was more prepared. He dodged exaggeratedly to the side, making the water propel him. He felt the ball skim his skin suit.

Grinning, he waited for another ball. Marlin was smirking. Why was he… Bam! Atlas felt the ball smash into his back, knocking him into aimless underwater somersaults.

Atlas groaned from the pain and shock. Marlin was laughing.

“Asshole, you didn’t tell me they came from behind, too,” Atlas said after he had regained his composure.

Marlin put a finger on his chin in mock thought. “I didn’t exactly tell you they would come from the front either, but you didn’t bring that up.” He then grabbed the ball in his hand hard, grinning evilly. “Assume they come from all sides.”

Atlas felt his heart drop. He would have to be wary of all directions. The balls seemed to move of their own volition, but of course, that was just Marlin manipulating the water.

Atlas managed to dodge a few of the next ones, but the speed of the balls was astounding. One exaggerated movement or slight timing mistake was enough to send him plunging into the surrounding waters. The balls came from the sides, the top, and even sometimes the bottom when Atlas was higher up.

He was learning though, and his reflexes were becoming quicker. It didn’t stop Marlin from increasing the difficulty, however, and the balls started moving even faster through the water.

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By the end of it, Atlas was spent. He had nicks and scrapes on the sides of his cheeks and hands, and where the skinsuit did cover, it had been torn.

“Finished for today. More tomorrow,” Marlin said briefly. He then swam off without any other words, leaving Atlas to float tiredly.

Atlas had the evening free, and it was still about an hour before supper was served at the barracks. Massaging his muscles, he started to head opposite the palace, towards Taron and Riva’s house.

A cadet was moving towards him, and Atlas moved to the side to allow him past. However, the cadet purposefully moved over and bumped into Atlas roughly. Atlas went drifting through the water a meter or two.

“Putrid humans,” the cadet sneered. He then brushed himself off where he had bumped Atlas as if dirt or grime had suddenly appeared there. He glared at Atlas as he swam past, towards the palace.

Atlas was a little confused at the constant aggression from the Keepers. They did not allow other races into the Kingdom, so that could have contributed, however, Atlas felt that wariness and mixed emotions would be more suitable for the Keepers. No, there had to be something else going on, a different reason as to why so many Keepers, especially the warriors, were simultaneously aggressive toward him.

He swam slowly through the water, pondering this. He found himself in the scene he had arrived at the Kingdom in. Many civilian Keepers were milling about, some glancing cautiously at him.

“Atlas!” came a familiar voice. Atlas turned to see Taron swimming quickly toward him.

Atlas waved. “Hey,” he said. “I was just coming to find you guys.”

Taron smiled awkwardly. “Sorry about that Keeper,” he said as if it was he who had done it.

“Not your fault,” Atlas said. He followed Taron toward their house. The coral surrounding them was as vibrant as ever, and fish swam casually through the crevices and grasses.

Arriving at Taron’s house, Atlas was unsurprised to see Riva and Sirena inside. Riva’s face lit up when she saw him, and Sirena looked down in timidness. After some greetings, he floated just above the mossy floor of their home. He accepted some sort of sea fruit that was very sweet and casually started chatting with them.

“The Kingdom is so beautiful and much bigger than I expected,” Atlas said, munching on his fruit.

“The coral spans for about 20 kilometers in all directions. The Palace sits right in the center,” Riva said. “The barrier that protects us is also about 20 kilometers in diameter and hides us and the beautiful coral beneath it. To outsiders, we just look like the rest of the sea; dark blue and endless.”

Atlas nodded, taking in these facts. Sirena suddenly rose, saying farewell to Atlas and her parents, before leaving the house.

“She’s going to play with the neighboring Keepers,” Riva said, noticing Atlas’s questioning look.

An awkward silence settled while Atlas and the two Keepers were finding a topic of discussion.

“I’m sorry about what happened with the… punishment that you guys received,” Atlas said suddenly, his gaze lowering in guilt.

RIva and Taron were quiet for a second before Taron spoke up. “We knew the risks, Atlas. Head Keeper Ronan did not keep them from us. We agreed to keep it a secret, and we accepted the consequences.”

Atlas nodded, still uncertain. However, he didn’t push. They had already received their punishment and it was time to move past that.

“I’ve noticed that the Keepers, especially the warriors, and cadets, are quite unfriendly toward me. There seems to be something more to the story than just our differences in race,” Atlas said, looking curiously at Riva and Taron.

Taron cleared his throat, curling his orange and pink tail to the side as he sat on the moss. “You’re correct in assuming that. To be honest, the Keepers had a confrontation with the humans a few weeks ago. A group of young scouts was attacked along the ship travel route that runs over the Kingdom. The humans hunted them down, happy to take their corpses back home as trophies. Our scouts fought back, killing two humans, but in the process, we lost 15 young and promising Keepers. Only one made it back alive to tell the story.”

His face had dropped into a sad grimace, his grief evident. Riva had also fallen into a bitter silence. Atlas was silent as well, finally having come to an understanding of why he was hated so. If he were a Keeper, he would hate him too. But the truth was that he wasn’t a human.

“I’m sorry that happened. But, why did you guys not tell everyone else that I’m an Aberrant, not a human?” Atlas asked, softly to not disturb the heavy feeling in the room.

Taron sighed, shrugging. “Head Keeper Ronan told us to keep that a secret. He was told by the King to keep this fact under wraps. We don’t know why, though.”

Atlas pondered this irritably. The King had some weird plans and motives, none of which Atlas would ever know. He mentally shrugged. He would have to deal with the hatred for three years. He could do that. He had bested death a couple of thousand times, and nothing else could beat that.

Atlas said his goodbyes to Taron and Riva before heading to the barracks. After an eventful dinner of stares and hatred, he returned home to Unit 1. He meditated before crawling onto the soft moss and closing his eyes. His aching body fell into a deep sleep.

In the morning, Ronan continued with the lessons in Neoraian. The going was slow, but Atlas tried his best to take in all the knowledge he could and achieve the correct pronunciations.

Before he left for Marlin’s lessons, he asked Ronan about the recent human attack that Taron had mentioned. Ronan fell into a sad silence.

“Don’t hate them before you know them, Atlas,” he said as if reading Atlas’s doubts about entering human society in the future. “I was once kidnapped by a group of humans just off the shores of the Aepath continent. I was tied up and readied to be shipped back to the continent. It was humans who hurt me, but it was also a human who saved me. A young sailor took pity on me and released me when the rest of his race was not looking. While I’ll never forget the pain they put me through, I’ll also never forget their kindness either.”

Atlas was quiet, digesting what he had heard. The humans certainly seemed complicated.

“The other Keepers look down upon me for my ‘human-loving’ tendencies, but they will never understand the relief I felt when that human released me. You cannot hate an entire race when only a few of them have wronged you,” he continued.

Atlas nodded, absorbing the valuable lesson that Ronan was teaching him.

Changing the topic slightly, he asked a question that had been on his mind since hearing the story from Taron. “You say some humans have Cores. Are they better at using Solar than the Keepers? I can’t see why you guys lost 15 young scouts and only took down two humans,” he said, realizing the harshness of his words, but he was unable to stay his curiosity.

“Yes, they are better, unfortunately,” Ronan replied. “The humans even know more about the Core and Solar itself than we do. This is why, in the recent attack, humans overpowered the scouts so easily. Their spells are far more potent and precise. Keepers are more intuitive, using Solar as they understand it, but a lot of humans know the deeper knowledge of the Core, allowing them to use it in wondrous and destructive ways that we Keepers find difficult to achieve with our natural understanding.”

Atlas was surprised at this. His use of Solar was surface-level, it seemed. A sudden greed welled up inside his heart to learn the deeper secrets of this mysterious power that intelligent beings had access to.

“And what about ‘Chroma’? I heard the King speak of it when we met him,” Atlas asked.

“Ah, that I won’t be able to answer. We just know that Chroma is what makes a spell able to achieve underwater breathing, water manipulation, and any of the other unordinary things you see us do here. Even the King knows less about it than he is willing to admit. However, humans certainly know more after so many eons of studying it,” Ronan replied with a hint of regret in his voice. He also longed to understand more than he currently did.

Atlas would have to accept that he had to wait a while longer to learn these secrets from the humans. Three years, that’s all he had. He had to make use of the knowledge he could gain here before moving on to greater things. Ronan soon ended the lesson and Atlas made his way toward Marlin in front of the palace.

Marlin added more balls to dodgeball this time, and the speed increased as well. By the end of the lesson, Atlas found he was more battered and bruised than the day before. His body ached and his head hurt from the constant concentration.

However, it was not time to relax just yet. Atlas found a spot behind a large piece of coral that hid him pretty well but had a good view of the training ground. He waited for a while and then saw the cadets walk onto the platform and begin their training. They swung their weapons down with precision, and their feet moved in calculated and habitual footwork while the bark of the officer resounded through the water.

Atlas took all of this in, his focus undivided. He memorized each step they made, each swing, block, and parry. He concentrated more on the sword users, as he was more interested in using a sword than a trident. Afterward, itching to try the moves he had memorized, he quickly ate supper and returned to Unit 1.

He looked around carefully for a straight branch of coral to use as a makeshift sword. Standing in the starting positions he saw the cadets use, he swung the branch through the water in a downward strike. The water pulled at his enthusiastic strike, slowing it down completely. He had to put more muscle into it to make it half-effective, but as a three-year-old with very little muscle mass, he couldn’t even do this well.

Using Solar would help him swing with less drag, just as he used it to swim faster. However, he rejected using it. Atlas wanted to train his body rather than his Core and would do it even if it meant more hardships. Even if his strikes were not very effective now, with training it would become better, and he was building future habits for when his body was more developed.

Also, he had noticed that the cadets were not using Solar. Even with their increased physical development, the speed of the swords and tridents should not have been possible. There had to be some way to do it without pure strength, and Atlas was determined to find it through hard work.

Putting down the makeshift sword, he finally rested his exhausted body by hugging the soft moss floor of his house. He quickly fell asleep, his last thought being of the stars.

He missed seeing the stars.