His sleeves were rolled up, his legs tense and his breathing steady. His feet dug into the ground. Three. He readied himself. Two. No turning back now. One. GO! He was off.

Lucas took off in a sprint, hurtling forwards as fast as he possibly could. He struggled to control his breathing, which had become more and more ragged as the seconds ticked by. His legs were burning, and beads of sweat had formed.

He kept his eyes glued to the goal straight ahead. But it was to no avail, as Leta caught up to him effortlessly, despite her starting nearly a kilometre behind.

He gave her an irritated look, but he couldn’t reply, since his erratic breathing didn’t let him. He could hear his friend in the back of his mind telling him, this is what happens when you skip the gym. The consequences of poor decisions spare no one, and indeed, that was exactly why he was left behind in the dust.

Lucas needed this, though. If he was going to get any stronger, this was how he was going to start. This place was brutal, and anything could go wrong. He had witnessed that bar fight. You couldn’t survive here if you stayed weak.

Leta had led him quite far away from the town, past the farms and into the unclaimed grassland meadows of the region. There was a single dirt path that wound through the land, and in the distance, Lucas could see a huge wall of trees, undoubtedly the forest he had first found himself in.

He caught his breath and turned around. Another lap. The rhythm of his feet slamming into the ground lulled him into a steady pace. He was sure that without the ring, he would not have had the strength to keep going, even though he had barely run one and a half laps.

He paused. Wasn’t that more like cheating though? The ring was giving him extra stamina and making it easier for him. In the end, that would hinder him more than help. Thus, he would have to do this without the help of magic.

He called out to Leta. “Do people usually pass by here?”

“No.”

So it wasn’t a huge risk to take his ring off. As he did so his pace immediately slowed to a crawl, and his breathing became heavier. The sun was still a source of energy for him, but blocking that out wasn’t an option. Training himself in the morning would have to become a part of his daily routine.

Eventually, Leta slowed down and stopped. Lucas, whose shirt was drenched, did so as well and collapsed on the grass. He chugged the water in his canteen, put the ring back on and laid down. He couldn’t just get by on running. He needed to become faster, become stronger, the whole lot of it. Leta had mentioned the importance of those skills once he woke up and he couldn’t believe he had forgotten about them, he was so laser-focused on learning magic.

The grass was comfortable and there weren’t any bugs crawling around, not as far as Lucas could tell. He wanted to fall asleep right then and there, but he had a busy day ahead. Every day was going to be a long one, it seemed.

He stood up and his shirt had already dried. Leta stayed relatively far away, crinkling her nose when the wind blew his stench in her direction. They followed the path back to the town.

“Thanks.”

Lucas was baffled at the sudden conversation. “For what?”

“The blanket.”

Ah. He had almost forgotten about that. He smiled.

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

Soon enough, they were back in town. Lucas quickly took a shower and changed into a spare linen t-shirt and trousers. They were now back on the main road where there was a myriad of shops and stalls. Unlike last time, people were completely uninterested in his presence, going about their daily lives as usual. The shops in this area were slightly run down but were infused with the spirit and love of the owners. The Grey Angel tavern was on his right, as well as the baker’s shop, but Pierre, Tiaru and the others were nowhere to be seen.

They stopped in front of a tailor, which sported a wide variety of suits on the shopfront. A well-dressed man greeted them and soon enough, he was holding a greyish-green suit set, a white shirt, and a grey tie. He packed it neatly in a bag and handed it to Leta who told him to put it on her father’s bill.

Once they had returned to Leta’s house, Lucas asked, “Don’t you have your daycare job to do?”

“It’s Rheto’s shift today,” she replied.

Lucas raised his eyebrows at the mention of Rheto, but he did not question it further. “So does that mean you can teach me magic today?”

“There’s no point in using magic if you can’t even run a couple of kilometres without wheezing.” Lucas furrowed his brow as she munched on a sandwich.

“So if I beat you in a race, can I learn it?”

“What did I tell you this morning? Plus, you watched the bar fight, you tell me,” she mumbled through her food.

Right, he needed physical abilities. He needed to become more agile and skilled in close combat. Like that bar fight, which relied on such abilities. Tiaru did not utilise magic at all, instead using her dagger to corner Leta. Magic didn’t help Leta dodge those attacks, but it did stun her opponent a few times, allowing her to slip away.

The games he used to play banked everything on sparkly lasers and flashy spells. That was the magic he was used to, the magic he had always known. If you were more powerful, you usually won, unless you were facing an exceptional opponent. But this was the real world. Of course, combat wasn’t just about magic.

“Then, will you teach me how to fight?”

She continued eating her sandwich and slid a simple dagger across the table. The grip was frayed, and browning, the point was blunt and the edges were dull. There were chips and nicks everywhere. It was heavier than Lucas expected, but he grinned as the weight pressed into his palm.

He tried some stabbing motions, plunging the dagger forward, and some slicing motions. It made a satisfying whistling sound the faster he slice, and he moved about like a frenzied man. He started doing kung fu moves with the knife, and moved around the open area of the living room. His heart was pounding, and his breathing had accelerated. Now this, this was power.

Leta’s eye twitched as she finished the last bite of her sandwich. She washed her hands and walked over to Lucas, whose movements had become as erratic as an inflatable tube man. She dodged out of the way of his swipes, grabbed his dagger arm whilst it was in motion and twisted it behind his back. He let out a yelp and the dagger dropped on the wooden floor with a thunk.

“The first rule you learn is that if you can run from a fight,” she wiped her mouth, “You run.”

She let him go and he stumbled forward. “The second rule you will learn is that you must never, under any circumstances use that dagger unless I say you can.” She picked the dagger up from the floor.

“And the third rule is that I never want to see what you just did, ever again.” She handed him the dagger and a leather belt that had a sheath attached to it.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

She clapped her hands together. “Let’s begin then.”

Leta pointed out the vulnerability spots, the eyes, nose, mouth, knees, throat and groin. Lucas had taken one lesson of a self-defence course so he was at least familiar with this, but she also pointed out a spot just above the heart, which he didn’t recall being in the briefing. “Why there?” he asked.

“Disables people’s magic temporarily,” she answered curtly.

She continued and Lucas listened intently, though he began to harbour severe doubts on whether he would absorb this information. She began showing off punches and kicks, basic self-defence moves along with descriptions of scenarios he might find himself in. He did his best to follow along, although his movements were jagged and awkward. She waited patiently each time she demonstrated a move, only continuing after she was satisfied with Lucas’ form.

Time whizzed by, and with Lucas now having five basic moves somewhat memorised, Leta finally let him sit down. She peeked her head outside the door and saw that the sun was beginning to set.

Lucas saw her look back at him and he nodded in understanding. He decided to take a brief shower and got changed into the suit she had bought for him earlier. With his pink hair and greyish-green outfit, he resembled a flower of sorts, although he did not want to mention it.

Leta waited for him in the living room, having gotten changed into a flowing dress, that had a gradient that went from navy blue at her shoulders to black at her feet. It had a thigh split, modestly revealing her left leg and the chest was split in a v-shape, with ruffles that lined the sides. She wore a simple necklace with a rose pink cube pendant, similar to Lucas’ ring. Her heels, black, clicked as she walked to the front door.

He felt dull in comparison, but he was not the star of the celebration.

To his surprise, he heard the sound of braying and the clopping of hooves. He had not seen a single horse since he had first come here. If they existed, then why would Leta have forced him to walk all over the town?

There it was, though, a horse in the flesh. Not one, but two horses. They were pure white with multi-coloured manes, which made them look much more like unicorns than actual horses. Behind them was a closed carriage, painted white with tinted black windows. Leta walked up the stairs of it and hopped in, and Lucas did the same.

The inside was also white. There were streaks of gold here and there, but otherwise, everything looked the same. He sank into the leather seat and had to move over to ensure there was enough legroom between the two of them. The ride was bumpy and the carriage soon got stuffy.

He was planning on asking Leta why she didn’t always use this mode of transport, but now as they travelled along the main road, he realised how the carriage became more and more unbearable.

“You don’t have to keep so still all the time,” She said.

But it was easier to. He nodded and stared out at the buildings passing by. Finally, the carriage slowed to a stop and Leta flung the door open, sucking in the fresh air. They stepped outside and Lucas found they were just outside the town hall. The lights were on and people were already inside, dancing, drinking, and chatting.

“Sweetheart! Welcome!” Her father called out to her. He sported a navy blue suit that matched Leta’s dress. “Everyone’s been eagerly waiting for you.”

Leta hooked her arm around her fathers and the pair walked in together, with Lucas following close behind.

“Announcing the entrance of Taure Cedrien and his daughter, Leta Cedrien.”

The room fell silent, all eyes drawn to the pink carpet that was rolled out in the middle of the room. They made their way to the stage and Leta’s father tapped what appeared to be a microphone.

“As you know, this celebration has been held in honour of my dear daughter, Leta. We are here to commemorate all her successes as a candidate thus far, and to highlight her subdual of a companion. I hope that each and every one of you enjoys this evening.”

Thunderous clapping and cheering echoed around the room. Leta had a broad smile and moved over to the food and drinks area.

She turned to the people and began talking with them. Once again, it was the generic questions, the thoughtless compliments and the greedy stares from the crowd. Did these people truly have no other thoughts in their minds apart from drivel and rot? Lucas stepped next to her with a neutral expression, blocking more people from approaching.

Some barriers though, do nothing to help against those who choose not to see them. A young man, who looked to be about Leta’s age pushed past Lucas and stood face to face with her.

“Only one companion?” He sneered.

Leta gave him a deadpan stare and stepped around him. He tried walking in front of her again, but Lucas upped the pace, pushing him out of the way.

He gestured to someone behind him, a henchman perhaps, and a large, lumbering man walked over. He grabbed Lucas’ shoulder and shoved him away from Leta.

This was not an opponent he had any hopes of fighting, especially not in this setting. He struggled, but the man’s grasp remained firm.

“He’s pretty weak as well.”

“Sounds like you’re projecting,” Leta snorted.

Lucas felt the pressure on his shoulder release and he immediately moved back to Leta’s side. This young man had orange-brown hair, a colour which resembled the shell of a cockroach.

The cockroach smirked and tilted his wine glass, letting the red liquid pour out onto Leta’s dress. All that happened was a simple slip of the hand, which showed itself as a dark stain, barely visible. Leta’s magic would easily fix the dampness, and it would remain practically invisible as if it never happened.

Leta restrained herself from smiling wickedly. She did not comment on the action, which the cockroach took as resignation. “Nothing to say for yourself?” He said.

Leta was staring straight behind him and Lucas followed her gaze. There was a middle-aged man with violet-blue hair, Cole, who was approaching the cockroach at a great speed. He was seething, his lips puckered.

The cockroach was bewildered by Leta’s silence and wheeled around to see what she was looking at. He froze as soon as he saw the middle-aged man and began to back away. In a flash, he was off and you could see a tail between his legs.

There was a sigh. “I’m so sorry about my son, Leta. Teach him a lesson later on, will you?” Said, Cole.

“Of course, Uncle Cole. It would be my utmost pleasure,” she replied.

Once again, Cole took off in the direction that his cockroach son had gone, at an unsettlingly fast pace considering his age.

Leta walked out of the main room, across a hallway and into a small side room. There was a pile of clothes neatly folded on a chair.

“Stay outside,” she said to Lucas, shutting the door as he walked back into the hallway. Not long afterwards, Leta came out in a regular outfit, a plain t-shirt, trousers, and a leather belt with a sheathed dagger.

“Isn’t this a celebration?” Lucas tilted his head.

“It’s hard to celebrate someone’s successes without seeing them for yourself.”

Lucas noticed it was unusually quiet. The music and the clamour of the crowd had ceased. The main hall was silent and empty, a chilling silence. There was not a single soul in sight.

As they approached the large, arched front doors, Lucas could see powerful lights shining through the windows, illuminating the floor beneath them.

The doors slammed open and the lights blinded Lucas. He blinked a few times and saw that everyone was gathered around in a large circle, behind what appeared to be a translucent violet-blue barrier. Cole nodded to Leta and she stepped through.

“Just stay here and watch,” Leta said to Lucas as she walked forward.

Lucas went as close to the barrier as he could, pressing his hand against its solid surface. The cockroach was standing around with the large man who had grabbed Lucas.

“Couldn’t bring your companion?” He said scornfully.

“Don’t need one to beat you,” Leta retorted. She had her arms crossed and was leaning against the barrier.

The cockroach growled and unsheathed his broadsword pointing it at her. “You’ll regret that,” he said.

A loud voice startled Lucas and the two competitors.

“And now, the most anticipated event of this celebration, the candidates’ duel.” Leta’s father was on the roof of a building, overlooking the people.

“In one corner, we have Nero and his companion.” There were a few whoops and whistles around the crowd.

“And in the other corner, we have Kytaris’ Rose, Leta.” There were ear-splitting cheers, accompanied by deafening applause.

“Candidates, ready up.”

The cockroach, Nero, gritted his teeth and prepared himself in a fighting stance, his companion doing the same.

“Three.” Leta was still leaning against the barrier, flicking a ball of light up and down.

“Two.”

“One.” She moved her hand over to where her dagger was sheathed, her entertained expression disappearing completely.

“Begin.”