TEN. LONG. YEARS.

How do I describe it?

Where do I start?

Maybe… at the beginning.

If there is one thing that Sin understands, it’s pain.

The knife was yanked from my hand by whatever invisible force Sin commanded.

I picked up the poetry book, holding it parallel to my chest with both arms straight… and waited.

The exercise was as simple as it was cruel. It tested my body, my mind and my willingness to endure pain.

For the next month, that was most of my morning. After breakfast and helping with the plates, I would spend hours in the Red Room holding that position. Sin would watch, leaning back in her chair and humming to herself in a pleased tone. I would be forced to reset every time my shoulders gave out and made to continue until I couldn’t lift my arms.

This simple and boring exercise taught me something almost as important as her three lessons:

Pain is not an enemy or a friend. Pain is a neighbour.

We wave at it when we leave our house and when we return, but we never let it in. After a week, I realized that the burning sensation in my shoulders and arms could be ignored. I could move my mind to a new house, somewhere far away, where the pain couldn’t reach me. By the end of the month, I could hold the position until noon, and I was ready for Sin’s next phase.

There is no separation between the mind and the body. The brain is a physical thing affected by diet and exercise. Sin wanted to strengthen my mind, so first, she strengthened my body. It started small, with Gren adding flakes of dried beef into my morning stew and evolved into complex exercises that used my body weight. These exercises dominated my mornings, and my afternoons belonged to everyone else.

After lunch, I would go with Mr. Reeves to learn about the history that the Revisionists wanted to hide. I learned about the rise and fall of the Old Elven Empire, their subjugation of the beastkin and the truth of humanity’s origins. When that subject was exhausted, he moved on to the Petty Kingdoms Era. With every lesson, my reading and writing improved, and, over time, the subjects broadened to include Math, Philosophy and Mr. Reeves' favourite subject, poetry. I remember him reciting his favourite poems to me from an old, beige book he kept under his pillow. The book was important to him—almost as important as the necklace with two gold rings that he would rub for good luck.

After my time with Mr. Reeves, the rest of my afternoon was a free-for-all. On some days, Gren would grab me to help him prepare and preserve food. He would regale me with more stories from the war and his short stint as an adventurer. On other days, Mrs. Dulldrey would find me and force me to stand still as she measured me for more clothes. It was her excuse to lecture me on my duties and responsibilities as a noble and Lady Sin’s heir.

And then there were the twins…

I was bounced between them like a ball in a game of keep-away. No, that was the wrong game. Their game was different—one I didn’t understand. There was a rivalry between them—a war with many fronts, and I was one of them. They would each pull me away to the secluded places of the mansion to play games… among other things.

No matter who stole me away, Sin would find me after the evening meal. She would sit me down and spend an hour teaching me the language of my ancestors before disappearing into the night.

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Where did she go?

What did she do all night?

When did she sleep?

None of us knew…

When I reached puberty, everything changed. My hours of training bore fruit, and I grew muscles in places I didn’t know I had. My shoulders broadened, I shot up to an average human height, and, most importantly, I was strong enough for sparring.

I remember the day it began. Sin was hiding behind the door when I entered the Red Room. Her wooden stick struck me between my shoulder blades.

I winced. She laughed, tossing another forearm-length stick on the floor for me to pick up.

That was sparring in the beginning. No drills. No techniques. Only pain. I would spend the first half of my morning training and the second half trying in vain to land a single strike against her. She would block or twist out of the way to leave me swinging at empty air. Every attack was returned, and I would leave the Red Room every morning covered in angry welts.

When I blocked more strikes with my stick instead of my face, we moved on to the next phase. She taught me everything. How to hide. How to sneak. How to punch. How to kick. What to do in the bind when two swords met. In great and painful detail, Sin showed me how the body could break. How to tear tendons, snap bones and bend joints the wrong way.

How to be a weapon.

It was amazing.

It was terrifying.

I had to know more.

Outside the Red Room, life also changed. I was free from Mr. Reeves’ lessons but still borrowed books from his small library. Gren was still Gren, and we had only grown closer with the passage of time. Mrs. Dulldrey’s hard exterior had softened towards me. It was hard to hate elves when you lived with a half-elf for years.

And then there were the twins…

They had outgrown their games, but they still vied for my attention. Like their opposite personalities, they brought out different sides of me. I was the young Lord with Cynthia, accompanying her on her daily errands around the capital. Sin let me leave the mansion as long as I wore a cloak to hide my ears. With Cindra, I was the rogue, breaking into the mansion’s locked rooms and sneaking out at night to wander the capital’s winding streets. I told her all my secrets. Why I came to the mansion and what Sin was teaching me. I told myself it was because I wanted a sparring partner my age, but I think I needed a friend.

If I had to point to the moment when everything started to fall apart, it was my ninth year in the mansion. It’s when we got word that Mrs. Dulldrey’s youngest son died fighting in the war. She took it hard—we all did. Mrs. Dulldrey was the backbone of our household. A matron who ruled with an iron fist. We were all worried when she locked herself away in her room— locked herself away from the world that stole her son. It took weeks for Mr. Reeves and Cynthia to get her to join us around the table.

It was also around this time that Sin started disappearing. She would tell Mrs. Dulldrey in advance about trips outside the capital, and, over time, those trips became more and more frequent. It fueled a growing resentment within me. She was seeing me less and less. It was like Sin was bored of me.

Why?

I was good and getting better every day. Why didn’t you see that? I wasn’t that skinny, illiterate boy anymore. I was a man, strong and educated, with her lessons carved in my heart.

Why would she throw me away now?

After everything I’d done to be like her.

By the tenth year, I’d had enough.

Sin had returned from her latest trip and retired to the Red Room to do who knows what.

It was now or never. I was running out of time.

I marched to the door and swung it open.

No more waiting.

Sin was going to give me what I deserved.

She was going to give me her third lesson.