Seria, I'll Get Stronger for You
From that day on, Cassian trained Aren and Ariel together.
At first, Ariel was openly displeased at the prospect of training alongside me.
"Why do I have to train with a beginner?"
She complained without bothering to hide it, but Cassian didn't so much as acknowledge her.
"Ariel, you and Aren are the same age, so you'll train together and help him along the way."
"Can't you do it yourself?"
"Teaching others is a form of training in itself, Ariel."
"Tch… you just can't be bothered, that's all."
Even as she grumbled, Ariel pointed out my mistakes the moment my form slipped.
"You're gripping the sword way too hard."
"I don't want to lose my grip on it."
"Grip it like that and your wrist will give out before the sword ever slips."
Ariel snatched the wooden sword from my hand and demonstrated the correct posture herself.
"You put strength in only at the moment you need it. If you're squeezing the hilt the whole time, you won't have any power left when it's time to actually swing."
"Like this?"
"Your fingers are in the wrong place."
She adjusted my fingers one by one.
"Honestly~ you sure need a lot of hand-holding."
Her tone was curt, but her explanations were surprisingly thorough, and they helped me grow accustomed to the sword far faster than I would have on my own.
Since arriving at the Black Tiger Corps, I never let the sword leave my hands except to eat and sleep.
Cassian and Ariel both told me not to push myself too hard… but I couldn't stop training.
I had to grow strong as quickly as possible. Seria was still out there, waiting to be saved.
Around twenty days after I first took up a sword, Cassian called Ariel and me out to the training ground.
"Get ready too, Ariel."
"Me as well?"
"Yes. You'll spar with Aren."
Ariel turned to look at me.
"Are you serious?"
"I am."
"It hasn't even been a month since he picked up a sword. How is he supposed to be any match for me?"
"Ariel, you never know until you try."
Ariel looked me up and down with a doubtful expression.
"Consider it an honor, Aren."
She picked up the wooden sword that had been leaning against the wall.
"Don't blame me if you get hurt."
Instead of answering, I raised my wooden sword into guard. I hadn't wasted the past twenty days.
I'd repeated the same stances hundreds of times, and even as I drifted off to sleep each night, I replayed every movement Ariel and Cassian had shown me in my head.
I knew perfectly well that Ariel was stronger than me.
According to Cassian, she possessed swordsmanship talent that appeared perhaps once in a century, and every time I crossed blades with her, I realized he wasn't exaggerating in the slightest.
But I refused to collapse helplessly on the ground the way I had before.
"Begin the bout."
Cassian tapped the floor with his wooden sword.
The moment Ariel raised her blade, the atmosphere around her changed completely.
"Here I come, Aren!"
With those words, she kicked off the ground. There was a time when I couldn't even follow a movement like that, but not anymore.
Ariel had a habit of stepping her right foot half a pace forward right before attacking.
She raised her sword high to mislead my eyes, but the real strike would come sweeping up from the lower left.
Her target: my right shoulder.
I brought my sword down in a diagonal arc.
Just before her wooden sword could reach my shoulder, ours collided.
Crack—!
For the first time, I had successfully blocked one of Ariel's attacks.
"Huh?"
Ariel's eyes went wide.
I didn't waste that opening—I swung my sword straight at her wrist.
But Ariel simply leaned back and slipped out of range with ease.
"Not bad."
In a blink, her body dropped low again, and her foot hooked my ankle.
"Ugh!"
I lost my balance and crashed to the ground. By the time I came to my senses, the tip of her wooden sword was hovering right in front of my throat.
"Winner, Ariel."
Cassian's verdict rang out across the training ground.
Ariel lowered her sword and looked down at me where I lay sprawled on the floor.
Ordinarily she would have teased me until I couldn't take it anymore, but this time she didn't open her mouth right away.
"Well……."
She glanced away, almost awkwardly.
"For a first try, you've gotten just a little bit better."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Don't get the wrong idea…! You're still looong, long way from catching up to me."
Ariel turned her back on me. Even so, her grip on the wooden sword was tighter than before.
"Next time, I won't let you block a single one."
"You'd spar with me again?"
"If you stay this pathetic, it'll embarrass me for having taught you."
"Guess I'd better practice more, then."
Still, she didn't seem to be in a bad mood about it, whatever her words said.
From that day on, every morning began with a bout against Ariel.
Of course, I never beat her. But I never lost to the same move twice.
When Ariel went for my wrist, I changed where I gripped my sword; I moved the way she moved, adapting to her rhythm. Every time I fought her, I saw a little more, learned a little more.
And then, I beat her.
About a month later, our record had grown to nearly an even split of wins and losses. I was growing.
"Aren, you just went for my ankle, didn't you?"
"Nope."
"Don't lie. You know I'm weak against ankle attacks, so you keep aiming there!"
"It's called tactics."
"That's just dirty!"
"In a real fight, the enemy isn't going to avoid your weak points out of courtesy."
"Grrrr……!"
Ariel bit her lip, clearly frustrated.
"One more match."
Clack! Clack-clack—!
Our wooden swords clashed again and again.
Ariel swung at my side. It was an attack I knew well by now.
I retreated half a step, let the blow slide past, then twisted my wrist and went straight for her shoulder.
Ariel ducked reflexively, and my sword grazed past a few strands of her golden hair.
"That attack's obvious, Aren."
Still low, she slipped inside my guard.
A thrust aimed at my abdomen—one of Ariel's favorite combinations.
I stepped my right foot out to the side and turned my body. The instant her wooden sword brushed the hem of my clothes, I shoved her wrist aside with my hilt.
Her stance crumbled.
This time, it was my foot that hooked her ankle.
"Wait—…!"
Her balance broken, Ariel's body pitched forward.
I couldn't just let her faceplant into the dirt, so I caught her by the waist on reflex.
And just like that, Ariel's face stopped mere inches from mine.
We were close enough that I could feel her breath against my skin. Her wide green eyes reflected my face back at me.
"You okay?"
"……."
"Ariel?"
Her face flushed crimson in an instant. She shoved against my chest and scrambled away in a panic.
"Who—who told you to go touching me like that?!"
"If I hadn't caught you, you'd have hit the floor."
"I would've rather fallen!"
Ariel snatched her fallen wooden sword off the ground and pointed it at me.
"Again."
She glared at me, lips pressed tight.
This kind of thing used to happen all the time. Whenever I lost a bout and asked for a rematch, Ariel always gave the exact same answer. So I gave it right back to her.
"Don't feel like it."
"Y-youuu…!"
Her face turned even redder.
"You're getting back at me for earlier, aren't you?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Stand still, will you?!"
Wielding her wooden sword, Ariel came charging at me.
By the time Cassian's afternoon training ended, I didn't have the strength left to move a single finger.
I sat in the corner of the training ground, dragging in ragged breaths. The blisters on my palms had long since burst, and because I'd kept swinging the sword before calluses could form, blood was seeping through them.
"Give me your hand."
I looked up to find Ariel standing there with a bottle of medicine and a clean cloth in one hand.
"I'm fine."
"You don't look fine, so hand it over."
I held out my hand obediently, and Ariel crouched down in front of me and began cleaning the wounds.
"Honestly, you're such a handful."
Despite her words, her touch was careful and gentle.
Watching her, I found myself thinking of Seria. The way she would nag me over even the tiniest scrape. The way she'd scold me even as her hands moved with such tender care, weaving her holy magic.
Seria…
Cassian hadn't yet been able to track down where Seria was.
All he'd managed to confirm was testimony that the imperial army had taken a single young girl with them that day.
I couldn't be certain that girl was Seria. But I believed—had to believe—that she was still alive.
Because if she wasn't, I wouldn't be able to keep going.
"All done."
Ariel wrapped a bandage around my hand.
"There aren't many people as satisfying to hit as you, so… don't you dare get hurt on your own."
"You're the one who lost today."
Ariel scowled and pressed her thumb hard into my wound.
"Aagh!"
"Th-that was me going easy on you…!"
And with that, she settled herself down beside me as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
After a brief, awkward silence, Ariel asked, as casually as she could manage:
"So, um… what kind of person is Seria?"
"The most important person in the world to me."
Ariel just stared at me without a word.
"What?"
"……Nothing."
Ariel abruptly looked away.
"Why'd you ask all of a sudden? Did Cassian find some information about Seria?"
"No, he didn't."
She scrambled to her feet.
"Break's over."
"Training ended already."
"I changed my mind."
Ariel tossed me the wooden sword lying on the ground.
"You just finished bandaging my hand?"
"It won't get in the way of holding a sword."
"What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"
Ariel did her best to ignore me and stalked out to the center of the training ground. For some reason, her footsteps seemed heavier than usual.
I couldn't figure out why, but for the rest of that bout, Ariel singled out my bandaged hand with almost spiteful precision.
Deep in the innermost reaches of the Great Cathedral lay a small confessional that no one ever used.
The choir's singing drifted faintly through the thick stone walls, but inside the confessional it was so quiet that even the sound of breathing seemed loud.
In that darkness, a girl sat alone.
Silver hair hung loose and disheveled, veiling her face.
With her head bowed low, the girl stared at nothing but her own left hand.
In the center of her slender palm, a golden emblem was etched into the skin.
A pair of brilliantly radiant wings, and between them a blossoming sun.
The Mark of the Saintess—chosen by the Goddess herself, an emblem that every believer in the Empire counted themselves blessed to witness even once in a lifetime.
And yet the girl glared at that mark with pure hatred.
"Disappear…"
Her nails dug into the soft flesh of her palm.
"Please, just disappear…"
The girl clawed at her palm as if driven mad. Red welts rose across the white skin, and soon blood began to seep from beneath her nails.
But the moment the blood flowed, the emblem on her palm blazed with dazzling light.
Warm divine power wrapped around the wound. The torn flesh knit itself back together, the blood vanished, and even the marks carved by her nails healed without a trace.
"Why…"
The girl's shoulders trembled faintly.
"Why does only this…"
The one she had prayed and prayed to be protected hadn't protected him at all…
No matter how many times she repeated it, the result never changed. If anything, the emblem merely shone all the more brilliantly, as if mocking her.
At last, the girl stopped. Not a single wound remained on her limp, outstretched palm.
Her trembling hand rose to her neck.
Beneath the lavish necklace prepared for the Saintess hung a single shabby wooden ring.
Its surface was rough, and its shape was slightly crooked. But the girl cupped the wooden ring in her hands as carefully as if she feared it might shatter.
And in that moment, the tears she had been holding back spilled down her cheeks.
"Ah… ahh… I'm sorry."
Only stifled sobs echoed through the empty confessional.
The girl pressed the ring to her forehead—as if the warmth of the arms that had held her that day might still linger there.
Alone in the deserted confessional, the girl curled in on herself.
Ariel (Image generated by AI)