"Up now, Falond. Let me give you a tour of some spots you’ll need to know to adapt to living here." Vance's voice shook me from my sleep, accompanied by a gentle shaking.

I gestured that I understood and swung my legs over the side of the bed. After putting on my clothes, I walked out with Vance, ensuring my keys were still with me before he closed the door. Based on the room's soundscape, Layla had already left before us. It was slightly surprising, given the early hour, but it was none of my business.

Navigating through the building and down the stairs was no longer challenging. A slight feeling of pride welled as I descended the staircase effortlessly, not needing the rail even without any limitations this time. Granted, even with all the intensive training yesterday, my proficiency with my senses wouldn't be enough if I ran, but a brisk walk was now easy.

"It always surprises me when I see a fold like you walk around so easily. If I didn’t know better, I’d assume you could see."

A fold? That must be slang for ones like me who had blindfolds. There actually weren’t too many, even in the dorm for the red robes. Most of them seem to have completed their initiation. I wasn’t sure what the initiation was like for the red robes who weren’t auramancers.

As a sort of answer to Vance, I shrugged at him and then pointed toward the entrance.

“See what I mean? You can even tell where the door is from that distance. What a marvel. Anyway, I’ll take you to where you can clean your clothes like I said last night. Let’s go.”

With that, a complex series of turns began. First, we went to the side of the dorm, then a right, a left, then straight. The path was becoming more complicated but clear in my mind. A side effect of constantly adjusting to the input of sound and the continuous visualization meant my memory was improving rapidly.

Soon, I heard a flowing river, and we entered a building of some sort.

I was now hearing a unique sound—a low hum at a high frequency- something few living things produce. The closest thing to it was the high pitch of mana cicadas. The normal ones had sadly gone extinct; the mana variants simply took over all their habitats.

"Behold this artifact here; it's a type of power converter," Vance explained. "By incorporating a specific type of crystal, we can manipulate the properties of the water flowing through it. The altered water can obliterate any dirt or stains from clothes within seconds. This means you can wash and clean several sets of clothes in just a handful of minutes."

That had me wanting to ask about drying then. Before asking for paper from him to write the question down, he continued to talk.

“Unfortunately, they don’t have any artifacts like that for drying, at least not for students of the citadel. So, there’s racks out in the open on both sides of the building. It’s a first come, first serve basis, but it’s rarely full.”

I’ll be damned, was my new roommate going to be another mind reader in my life? Having two was enough already.

With that, I stripped down, sensing no one else was here. My only pair of clothes were the ones on my body, which were no longer clean. I gestured Vance to the door, indicating he should leave. Instead, he took it as he should keep watch.

"Ah, right," he commented, remembering my lack of additional clothing. "I forgot you don’t have any other sets of clothes yet. I'll stand guard here, making sure no one barges in while you're half-naked."

He took a few steps back towards the door while I proceeded to wash my clothes. This water artifact was a miracle worker; it's truly amazing what can be achieved with the correct crystal. A slight pang of curiosity about this artifact and the crystal it used briefly surfaced, but I quickly pushed it down. My priority right now was to clean my clothes and keep my life in order.

Once my clothes were cleaned to the best of the artifact's ability, I wrung them dry and put them back on. I was acutely aware that other students would soon be arriving, and despite Vance standing guard, I was not comfortable leaving them to dry in the sun. Instead, I put on slightly damp clothes, banking on the sun's warmth to dry them as we continued our tour.

"Good timing," Vance noted, "Some green robes are on their way here. You'll be able to find your way back, right? I've heard you folds develop a sharp memory quite quickly."

He sure knew a lot about “folds” for not being one. How odd, but he was right about that; I’d find my way from now on. Nodding to agree, we left.

“Since we’ve got time, let me show you around another key spot. There are several training grounds; I’ll take you to the one you will most likely be assigned to.” Vance announced. “Unlike some other things, they rarely assign you to the ground by robe but instead by ability. Basically, you’ll almost certainly be taken to the field for beginners to their path of power. A few teachers will be there.”

He took me on quite the trip, although it was partially my fault. He would start to jog, and unfortunately, my senses hadn’t adapted to that speed. My balance would worsen, and soon enough, I’d hit a rock, plant, or tree on the way.

Vance was subtly trying to keep me at the edge of my limit. In his own way, he was helping me grow. He’d jog again every so often, and while I’d mess up eventually, it was taking longer each time. I felt that if I could combine the soundscape with a touch domain, even jogging wouldn’t be a challenge. Soon after, going full speed may no longer even be hard.

As promised, he took me to the grounds. A few students were milling about, doing basic exercises, or striking at what was likely a dummy or sparring partner. Many of them had different kinds of weapons, and the sounds of the strikes were all different.

It was here that a few elves were around as well. Out of the three camps, they were more isolated, having their dorms and going to their own hall. The training grounds weren’t as closed off. Regardless of robe, race, or camp, you came here if your ability with your path to power was beginner-level. They did have three separate teachers. The teacher for the elves was already instructing them. As for the other two camps, my soundscape didn’t locate them yet if they were here.

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“Plenty of other spots to show you later, including the mindscape hall, which the three camps share. The great hall, which each camp has its own. One of the two libraries, one for us and you auramancers, the other for the elves. Vance continued, filling me in on the various facilities of the Citadel. "There are also several other chambers, but access to those is restricted and needs to be earned. The resources they offer aren't readily available, and there are limited spots."

As Vance was talking, a familiar pattern of footsteps entered my auditory radius. A particular rhythm, one I could never forget.

“Ah, this is where my assigned idiot ran off to. Thank you, Vance, for bringing him here.”

“Yes, Master Hadrian.” Vance had suddenly grown far less talkative.

“Off you go then.”

“See you back at the dorm later, Falond.” Vance's voice was hurried, and he didn't wait for my response. His footsteps receded quickly, suggesting he was rushing to get somewhere else.

Nodding in his general direction, I was alone with this onery man, “Master” Hadrian.

The other students were paying attention, as Hadrian was an unusual presence on the field. Multiple gazes were focused on me. It was easy now to tell when attention was on me. He threw a sword at me, too fast again for me to react appropriately. At least I wasn’t caught totally off guard this time. The sword's hilt hit me in the sternum, but I caught it after it bounced off.

"From the way you tilt your head, it's clear you're mastering your hearing," Hadrian said. "The council has decided there's no need for multiple sourcers due to fewer people with potential for aura being found. Beatrix will take over that role, and I've been reassigned as your instructor."

This rude old man, Hadrian, would officially now be my teacher. Great, I could practically hear the smile he must have on his face right now. His satisfaction was obvious, finding joy in my discomfort. He probably still held a grudge for not trusting him when I first met Verdenia. Although, those elves would’ve found some other way to gain influence over me anyway.

That made me wonder, the auramancers had sourcers to find them, and The elves probably send their younger members here. But for the remnants or exiles, what did they do?

A sword strike came at me; hearing it was easy enough, but doing anything about it was not. As I’ve mentioned a few times, losing your vision complicates things, including combat. Hadrian showed no mercy, landing blow after blow with a wooden sword, each impact adding to my growing collection of bruises.

"Adjust quickly, Falond," he commanded, a note of giddy sharpness in his voice. "Tomorrow, we switch to real swords. They'll be blunted, but they're still very much real."

This threat loomed over me, a reminder of the necessity to adapt swiftly. My senses had to become more efficient faster in both giving and processing information. My breath became ragged as Hadrian sped up his attacks.

“Your understanding of aura is abysmal. Your senses are still practically crippled compared to the other world beast bearers.” he criticized, his tone harsh. "I'm already going slower for your sake, yet you haven't blocked a single hit. If you were to leave the citadel now, you wouldn't survive a day."

Desperately, I wanted to shout, ‘whose fault it was that I couldn’t see!?’ But really, it was my fault. It was me who let this crazy bastard find me, and it was me who listened to the Moth, who had still been absent lately. What advantage did that even offer me? Would I ever know? Frustration gnawed at me, causing my teeth to grind together.

In anger, I split my aura to enhance my ears, imbue my hands and feet, establish a domain of touch, and quicken my reaction speed. Unfortunately, it was too much for me to do, and soon, the strain made me perform even worse. Hadrian capitalized on this, landing mocking strikes on my hands and lower legs.

After another agonizing half an hour of enduring his one-sided assault, he finally stopped.

"This is pointless in your current state," he declared, his tone icy. "I’ll find a sparring partner for you. Expect me here again tomorrow. Your days will be filled with this hardship until you show improvement. Feel free to harbor resentment towards me if you wish, but I won’t let another moth….”

Abruptly, his words trailed off as if he had caught himself from revealing something. The abrupt silence left me in a state of bewilderment. Without another word, he disappeared from my presence.

Some poor soul was dropped before me by Hadrian in an instant. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going slow; that man’s speed was still beyond my perception.

“This is Vivian,” he introduced, “She’s the assistant to the regular teacher here. Don’t get your hopes up, however. She will still thrash you either way. Vivian, you’ll be Falond’s sparring partner for the foreseeable future. Shape him up to stop being an embarrassment to the red robes.”

"Understood, Master Hadrian," Vivian replied dutifully.

I felt a small glare. Even if Hadrian told her to do so, she clearly didn’t like bringing me up to speed.

"Well, that's settled," Hadrian concluded. "I’ll come fetch you when it’s time for you to return to your dorm. Your meals will be delivered here by the kitchen staff. With a few sets of clothes on your bed so I don’t have to get a report of my newest student being half naked in the morning.”

Someone saw me anyway. I didn't sense anyone else’s gaze at the time except for Vance’s. Unless he spilled the beans? Not that I’d blame him if he did; Hadrian may have just forced a report out of him at some point. That didn’t make much sense, though.

"I’m Vivian, and you are Falond, I gather. Let me make it clear that even though Master Hadrian wishes it, I am not enthusiastic about wasting my time on you. Learn quickly, new fold. Let’s get this over with," she asserted.

She sure didn’t waste time striking at me. Her speed was slow compared to Hadrian’s, and her technique was not as sharp either. Still, I was overwhelmed. Was it really all that hard to just teach me the next step? What was the point of just beating me up repeatedly?

With the reduced difficulty, my focus started to go internal again. Taking inspiration from Ashari's advice the day before, I tried to apply the same principles to my limbs. Managing all four simultaneously was overwhelming, so I started with my legs. Parrying was impossible now, but I could pull off some sloppy dodges if I got fast enough. It was worth a try.

During the first few attempts, a lot stayed the same. My hearing would warn me by showing the whistle of a strike; then, my body wouldn’t react in time. My inability to process the image in time and respond accordingly was partly the issue. As I adjusted to Vivian’s pattern, she would change it up. In the heat of the spar, thoughts would barely take shape before I was interrupted by a painful thump to my chest, head, or legs.

Over and over, I’d try to dodge her strikes. I’d take a glancing blow on better attempts, but she still always hit. As for parrying, outside of pure luck, I never pulled it off. My arms weren’t up to speed. Lack of aura control and perception were issues, but I also realized that my physical conditioning needed work.

My frustration was building; this was insane! Why would they think someone would learn in this environment? Just hit and hit, and then no tips? No pointers, no lessons, just nothing at all? Put some girl with a grudge in front of me and let her blow steam off with strikes to my face?

Increasingly, grunts of anger were being let out by me. If not for the vow, they’d be curse words instead. Being a fellow auramancer and the one who was wailing on me, Vivian noticed quickly.

“Must be nice, being so weak yet still chosen to be a marked, new fold. Can you even hold a sword with those twigs you call arms? Dust moves faster than you. A deaf dog could hear better than you. What was Ulysses thinking? Choosing a failure like you. Do you even understand the consequences if you continue to be this mediocre?" Her voice was tainted with a bitter blend of jealousy and spite.

No, I didn’t fully understand, and it seemed no one bothered to give an actual explanation. I’ll just have to tell Ulysses to pick better next time. The unasked-for expectations that everyone was placing on me were becoming excessively bothersome. Also, damn it, just what did to be a marked even mean? It was intentional at this point, wasn’t it? To not let me know? Regardless of my frustration, it was clear that nothing about this situation would change.

The only thing that could change was me.