Sariella

It had been two weeks since the day I first arrived at the quarters of the Paladins, and I was still trying my best to adapt to my new life.

Every day, I woke up at 6:30 AM and got myself prepared before rushing to the church within fifteen minutes. Since my father was a friend to some of those seniors here, they were told that I was capable of playing the organ for masses, and so I was soon assigned the position of organist. The choir was lovely, and this job gave me certain comfort and joy to some extend.

The mass would end within one hour, more or less, and as we were all yawning and stretching, we would help ourselves to the canteen at around 8 AM.

Breakfast would be dealt with within twenty minutes, and then there would be two hours of physical training in the training halls. At 10:30 AM, we would have a recess of half an hour, and at 11:00 AM, we would receive different lessons in books. For me, I had subjects and books in my school before, and there were some difficult books about history, bible analysis, books on mental health and encouragement for teenagers (which I failed to seek a cure from), and formal literature selections.

Lunch break started with a quick prayer at 13:00, and at 14:30 there would be lessons with books again for one hour. Our day would end at 17:30 with special training for our powers, as for the elites their training would end at 19:00.

We were all put into different teams, and for my team, there would be: the two Macanese boys, Michael Lang and Nelson Lok as the team captain and vice-captain respectively.

My beautiful roommate Harriet·Bradley, a gorgeous blonde from Naphtali who happened to be a tranverista, mages that could transform into animals. Her favorite form of the animal was the lioness, and she could do much more than that. Her code was Leona.

Felix·Lowe, a fire mage of the house of Reuben with blazing red hair, Harriet's boyfriend. I was not a close friend of his, but he was a nice, enthusiastic young man who loved to entertain his friends with his comedic facial impressions. His code was Flare, simple.

Erica Mei, in my opinion, is the kind of lady that is lucky enough to have inherited every eastern Asian beauty trait, and she would definitely appear like a princess in traditional garments. Her grandparents immigrated to this country decades ago, and her accent was pure American. She was a healer of Reuben, with a flawless reputation, and her code was San Wu (Coral).

There was another girl, Eevie Wu, a girl from Hong Kong or, Macau? I forgot. We were not close, and I did not plan to get close to her, there was always something in her words that felt like bee stings to me. She always tied her hair into a tidy bun, like a ballerina, and, to be honest, she would be an attractive lady if she did not pull a long face 24/7. Her code was Dynamite, and she belonged to the house of Reuben.

Vladek and Ria also belonged to my team, but they were so busy and we seldom met each other in the canteen.

Apart from waking up a bit too early for me, I enjoyed my new life, except for one thing.

I really could not keep up with the demands of my mentor, Sir William Cole, the Scorpion.

I just got another bruise on my shins, and the pain coated all over my legs had just intensified to another extend.

Vladek·Wolgan, a young Israelite of Russian origin, together with Ria·Baptista, a cute Filipino girl who was younger than me for a year or two, was accompanying me on the bench.

Vladek preferred us addressing him as Phantom Moth of Benjamin, or TJ —— I think that was his pseudonym —— he was nearly six feet tall at the age of twelve and was incredibly gifted. This Russian-Israelite brunette had deep-set, slanted, hooded eyes and a tall nose, as well as strong facial features founded on most people with Slavic origins. He was always wearing a leather vest full of pockets, a long chain of bullets hanging across his shoulder and torso decorating his black T-shirt, and he preferred military boots and camouflage trousers.

A pair of green guns were clung to his belt, and he was conjuring his daggers in both hands as he talked to me. He had been selected by the mentors of Gad, and his special training as a member of the elites had already started.

"Here, have a candy," He pulled out a small carton from one of his vest pockets and shared a bar of chocolate with me, "Sugar, the best cure for depression."

Ria, or as her preference, Sangria, was handing me ice cubes for my bruises, and her sparkling black eyes were filled with friendly worry. She had a beautiful complexion of honey and olive, and a very sweet voice as well.

"That's a very bad bruise," the sweet Filipino girl whispered.

"Oh, gosh, Vlad, I think I'm half-dead," I thanked Ria for the ice cube and took the chocolate, "Is there any tip for me to survive his class? You two were just... brilliant."

"Well, I do have a tip," Vladek handed the chocolate to Ria and stuffed some into his mouth as he entered deep thought.

"Oh, right — — What I lack in performance, I compensate with a brilliant personality!"

"...Erm..."

That was too deep.

Some boys on the other side of the training hall waved at us, and I recognized their uniforms."

"Thank you for your accompany though, the Gad boys over there are calling you."

"Oh! Well... We should go then, take care," Ria stood up and studied my bruise again before she left, trotting back to one corner of the training hall and blended in the crowd immediately.

"My angel told you to not worry too much," Vladek squinted his eyes and said whispered, "he says, you need to put aside your anxiety and focus on the present, or else you are forever stuck at the same place."

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Please show him my gratitude for his words," I bowed my head, "that's very kind of him."

'Nah! You had heard that for million times before, right?' Suriyel laughed in my mind.

"... He says, you're welcome," Vladek looked behind him and replied, then he left quickly.

Anyway, I got to get back on my feet, I had been resting at the bench for nearly half an hour already.

I slowly made my way through the conflicted crowd, tried my best not to interfere with any combat pair, and arrived once again in front of my scowling mentor, Sir William Cole.

'For God's sake, DODGE,' Suriyel was talking to me inside my mind, 'it is already stupid for you to hold a heavy sword, and your pure stupidity for not even thinking about escaping is giving me a hard time. Seriously? Why so obedient!"

I picked up the blunt sword from the ground, and my arms were sore and weak that I could hardly hold it properly.

'Because he knows my dad, and he reports my everyday life to him!' I replied in my mind.

My mentor showed me zero tolerance. He swung his sword immediately and I tried to dodge his attacks instead of parrying.

I tried my best to follow Suriyel's advice and kept a distance of a few steps from him. However, he used some kinds of Aikido skills that, with one step forward, he was already close to me, facing me with the side of his body. He quickly lifted my chin with his arm, still holding his sword firmly in his hand, and the rest was only a matter of seconds. I lost balance immediately and fell backwards, crashing my head onto the floor.

What was that again? Similar to shomen uchi Irimi nage of Aikido, slightly altered for combat reason.

'Ouch!' Suriyel said sarcastically, 'I told you to DODGE! RUN! MOVE YOUR DAMN FEET!'

'Shut up already,' I replied as I was distracted by the pain. Damn, I still had not understood the moves!

"Terrible. Get up!" My mentor said, and I tried to put myself back together.

As I struggle to stand, he hit my head with the pommel of the sword.

As far as I could recall, the pommel was the size of a ping-pong ball, made by lead, for the purpose of steady hands.

Did he do that on purpose?

Pain from the wound of my head soon spread out to every nerve, and I fell back onto the floor, crashing myself once again onto the floor but with no control of my body. I was left half-conscious with the blow, with tinnitus began to join in.

For goodness sake, another anxiety attack.

"Get up." Was all I heard once the dizziness wore off.

'Bullshit, stay on the ground,' this was Suriyel saying, 'If you want to live, don't move.'

I followed Suriyel's instruction and remained station on the ground, but to be honest, I could not move at all.

"Get Up!" William Cole repeated, and he kicked me tauntingly with the tip of his shiny boots.

Help, I wanted to shout that word out loud, but I was too exhausted and scared. I felt myself slowly curling up, my breath getting faster and heavier, and the tinnitus was getting louder and louder.

Stop. Breath. Calm down. Relax. I repeated these four words in my head as the pressure intensified along with the stares from the other apprentices

No use, it got worse.

I could not hear a thing at that point — — my tinnitus was so loud that I could not hear the outer world.

I could feel my mentor snatching my shoulder and yanked me up, but I stubbornly curled up like a cocoon and covered my ears unconsciously.

'I'm back!'

Suriyel's insincere laughter in his voice brought me back to life miraculously, and the wave of anxiety attack was over.

For goodness sake, finally over!

However, before William Cole could have any other say, the door of the training chamber was opened from the outside.

All of a sudden, every instructor and apprentice was stoned right where they were. Whether they were practising swords or weapons of any sort, giving a lecture, or being lectured, regardless of their positions and their conditions, they all stood still and faced the door. All of a sudden, this room was soulless.

The man standing at the entrance seemed to be comfortable with this suffocating atmosphere, from the torso to his face, he was drowning in shadows, and the first thing I could notice was his shiny leather shoes.

The newcomer made his way through the crowd as the people before him made way as swiftly as Moses separating the red sea, his shiny leather heels knocking on the floor, playing pleasant rhythms in a breathless surrounding.

I could not understand why everyone seemed to be at the edge of their nerves towards this newcomer, for he had an aura so clean and peaceful, but also very vigorous, perhaps that was the reason why everyone parted like the Red Sea before Moses, as soon as he stepped in front of them.

He was wearing a black, embroidered coat, which reflected rays of dark grey color. As he approached, I realized the silver reflection on his torso was from his pocket watch, worn traditionally, clinging onto his vest.

The Victorian style of clothing did not seem odd to him, apparently, he was a man of important position. As he stepped right in front of me, his cold, black eyes studied my face for a few seconds before he turned around and studied all the others in the chamber.

Within a breath, everyone resumed their practice and routines, and the noises camouflaged my embarrassment.

"Such a disgrace," the stranger gently pushed aside William Cole and leaned over to grasp both my shoulders before I fell down again.

He frowned and held my shoulders, and I could feel his power entering my body, mixed into my blood, flowing through my body. Soon, the pain was soothed and gone, and I could stand on my own.

'Say thank you to Philipp,' I heard Suriyel talking in my mind.

"Thank you very much, Sir Philipp," I did hastily as told.

William Cole was shocked while Philipp seemed to be pleased, he then grasped my shoulder and led me out of the training chamber, leaving all those behind.

The door closed itself as we made for the corridor, and Philipp patted my head gently. Surprisingly, I was comfortable with his affectionate action. Sometimes, strangers triggered my anxiety.

"No, no, Suriyel, you have me wronged, I had acknowledged your arrival since you stepped on the ground, but I was put to other chores, far away from here," Philipp said apologetically in my mother tongue, Cantonese.

With a black twister, my angel appeared next to me with scorn, "Oh, really? What kind of chores so important that you didn't greet your old friend upon his arrival?"

"Someone might pass by!" I whispered to him in Cantonese.

"Hush hush," Suriyel waved his hand," they won't see me."

Philipp took a deep breath and whispered something in a foreign language this time, and I heard them talking to each other while Philipp put his hand on my shoulder, in the manner of a father leading his child.

Surprisingly, I feel comfortable with him around, and I did not feel scared or anxious with his touch.

Suriyel took notice of my change and chuckled, "I knew that children get along well."

"I'm not a youngster anymore," Philipp sighed, "time flies, doesn't it?"

Right in front of the library, we stopped and Philipp turned to me.

"I'm sorry, Sariella, but I need to get my chores done before we can start your training."

"This kid likes reading," I heard Suriyel said, "unlike her brother."

Philipp curled his lips and patted my shoulder, "I'd chosen some books for you, try to finish them before Friday. If you want to take a break from the books, you may do as you wish, but you are recommended to have basic physical training apart from that."

"Sir, you mean, training with... Sir William?" I cringed upon my assumption.

"Nope," Philipp smiled, "with Tiago, Ranger of Dan, he is an upright man. I'll see to it, and you may pick up your homework at the receptionist, Lady Peruzea."

"Thank you, sir."

He somehow stopped smiling and put on a more solemn face, "From now on, you should address me as your mentor. Of course, only if you're comfortable with this sudden change in arrangement."

Mentor? This stranger before me, Philipp, as my new mentor? Am I comfortable with this change? With no doubt, yes!

I bowed my head, then I felt Philipp's palm on my head.

"Thank you, mentor," I said.

The pain in my head began to disappear and I could feel his energy entering my body to heal me.

"Good girl. We'll meet again after Friday, see you." As soon as he finished, he turned around and left, and was consumed by the light and shadow.