“I…hate…you…Lou!”
“Ahaha! Save your breath, my friend!” I call back, swinging forward so that the fire heating my stomach is now on my back, feeling an even stronger burn in my abs.
After the first round on the obstacle course, the other initiates are allowed to rest while Alana and I are enlightened to the purpose of my wife’s new contraption. Turns out, it’s exactly what I think it is. Just, rather than a pig, we are what’s being cooked. We hang with the spit behind our knees, ropes tied around our legs keeping us in place. Then, with the assistance of one of her helpers with a fire affinity, she coaxes out a fire to the perfect height. If we relax, the tips of the flame will singe our heads.
To escape being burned and the uncomfortable feeling of blood rushing to our heads, the roasts, the two of us, are forced to swing forward, crunching our abdomens. However, the heat is then focused on our backs and we’re forced to swing the other way, an even more strenuous position.
Again and again, until my muscles feel like they’ll tear, the very real fear of burning to death propelling our efforts. And when we think we can’t last another second, Kierra swoops in with a generous donation of her magic.
Truly despicable. I expect nothing less from my elf.
Poor Alana. She’s attended my wife’s lessons for months now but Kierra’s training is like the Hellfire Realm. It has layers. We’ve only reached the second. Haha, just wait until she starts with the third layer, interrogation and intimidation resistance. Great times.
She’s sweating buckets, body flush and chest heaving. Kierra had her remove the armor she always wears and the sweat makes her thin linen shirt cling to her, almost indecently. I’d be lying if I claimed to not be enjoying the view.
Got to take my pleasures where I can. That’s the secret I’ve learned for enduring my wife’s attentions a long time ago.
“Three more minutes,” Kierra says, tapping us both. Her magic rushes through my body. Not healing but giving me a burst of energy that makes me think I can give the last spurt my best.
“Damn you both to the darkest abyss!” Alana screams.
“So lively. Should we go for five?”
The blonde continues to howl out abuse and curses. Thankfully, Kierra keeps to her original word and after three minutes, she kicks dirt over the fire, snuffing it out. We both hang limply as she leaps to the top of the pillars and unties our bindings. I catch myself in a handstand as we fall, rolling back to my feet. Alana flops to the ground with a huff, followed by a long groan.
I can’t help it. I laugh.
Her head rolls up as she glares at me with one eye. That look promises retribution. Haha, please. As if you’ll have the energy. Threaten me again when you can stand up.
“You did good.” Kierra kneels down to and places a hand on her head. Alana visibly relaxes as the magic does it work. “Go on and rest. Lou, you’ll be going up again.”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“No.” Alana valiantly raises her head. “We…go together. I can do it.”
This girl has a will of earth-affinity reinforced steel. Or the blood rushing to her head on and off for the past fifteen minutes has made her delirious.
“What a good soldier,” Kierra coos over her, equally impressed. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to stand in the way of your determination. The body can only be pushed so far. But don’t worry. You will get your wish eventually.”
Alana drops her head again, letting out another groan.
-
In a turnaround of recent events, Alana has to lean on me a bit to stay steady as we leave the field. I’m tired myself but I think Kierra went easier on me at the end, knowing we’d be in this predicament. No one can say she isn’t compassionate, despite everything.
“Cheer up. Lunch is on me.”
“More torture,” Alana grumbles. “Finally understand why you eat so much. I feel so weak.”
You really don’t. “Not today. We’re eating at the Gold Dorm.”
She gives me a look. “How exactly do you plan to get me in there?”
“I have my ways.” As in, I know the dorm mother in charge of the building. After dinner, which was rather nice if a little stilted since Miss Talia isn’t one for small talk, I was again extended an open invitation. I’m reasonably confident I can talk Alana in.
“Why am I not surprised. For someone so…simple and obvious in her desires, you are steeped in mystery, Lou.”
“Was that a compliment? Flatterer.”
“And you have a terrible habit of ignoring my insults.”
“I prefer to call it thinking optimistically.”
She shakes her head. “Your optimistic thinking is going to get us in trouble. We wouldn’t be welcome amongst the nobles normally but they’re sure to be even more on guard. Ever since the Pottoculli incident.”
Ah. My little show became quite the legend amongst the initiates. As I predicted, Peter wasn’t long for the Grand Hall, disappearing in as little as two weeks. His friend Newster didn’t last either. He stuck it out for two months but couldn’t deal with being a social pariah amongst his peers. A resounding victory but the peerage wants nothing to do with me. I may as well be a walking plague.
“Don’t worry about them. Who would dare to get involved with me after that mess? We only need one person’s permission and the rest of them can shove off. You faced Kierra’s training head-on and asked for more. Are you telling me that you’re scared of a few whispers and disapproving glares?”
Her lips screw up in distaste or affront. Maybe both, heh.
“And are going to let a bunch of soft-handed gossip mongrels keep you from eating some of the best food I’ve ever tasted?” It really is great. The only two sources that can compete are the foods in the capital, provided by the Guiness family, and Geneva’s cooking. Honestly, there is nothing she can’t do. I’m convinced.
“Let’s go, you harbinger of chaos.”
Oh, I wish. Cosmo would be so proud. “That’s the spirit.”
The door is guarded by the usual acolytes, looking quite bored. They give us long looks as we approached, telling us with their eyes to turn away. I ignore them. “Hi, there. I already know you don’t think I’m supposed to be here so go ahead and announce Lourianne Tome and a guest.”
“You should watch the way you talk to your betters,” one of them says, but he does pull out the clear ball from before. It lights up as he feeds his mana into it. “Dorm mother, a Lourianne Tome is seeking permission to enter along with a guest.”
“Permission granted.”
The response is immediate and very surprising from the shock of the questioner. He gives me a dubious look as he tucks the device away. There’s clear reluctance as he opens the door for us, which I think is a little uncalled for. You’re not even getting paid, relax.
Alana shakes her head as we walk inside. “I can’t believe we just walked in.”
“What did you think we were going to do, sneak past everyone and this building’s ridiculous wards? Please. It’s all about connections.”
“I thought the Tome family was a disgraced house.”
Ouch. “Well, I’m not disgraced. Just stick with me. We’re going places. First of which is the dining room.”