Elara didn’t move from the desk. Her eyes lingered on the bloodstains, then flicked back to him.
"You know you’re not as good at hiding as you think," she said.
rlin leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Didn’t realize I was hiding."
"You are. Every ti you dodge a question, every ti you force that blank look on your face, every ti you pretend like nothing’s gnawing at you." Her hand brushed the dent in his breastplate, almost absentminded. "You may fool Nathan, but you don’t fool ."
’That’s exactly what I was afraid of.’
rlin didn’t answer. He watched her fingers trace along the gouge in the steel before she pulled back like the touch burned.
She finally turned to face him, eyes sharper now. "Co on. You need food. Don’t argue."
He almost did anyway. Almost told her to leave him alone, that he didn’t need her watching over him like a nurse. But the stubborn set of her jaw told him it wasn’t worth it. He didn’t have the energy to fight her today.
"Fine," rlin muttered.
The faintest ghost of a smile tugged at her lips before she pushed the door open and stepped out into the hall.
—
The ss hall was less crowded than yesterday. Morning sun bled weakly through the tall windows, casting pale light across long wooden tables. The sll of bread and porridge filled the air, mingling with the damp stone and oil of the fortress walls.
rlin trailed behind Elara, scanning the room. Most soldiers were either already out drilling or too hungover from the night before to bother eating. The few scattered at the benches glanced up briefly, then quickly back to their bowls.
They still looked at him differently.
’It’s not awe. Not exactly. It’s distance. Like I’m sothing they can’t touch anymore.’
Elara chose a bench at the side, away from the main cluster of n. She slid onto the bench and gestured for him to sit.
rlin lowered himself opposite her, the wooden seat creaking under the weight of his armor.
"Eat," she ordered, sliding a bowl of porridge toward him.
He eyed it, then her. "Didn’t realize I was back in training camp."
"You’re worse than the recruits," she said flatly, spooning her own portion with no hesitation. "At least they complain while eating."
rlin snorted softly but dug in. The porridge was bland, heavy, but it filled the empty space in his gut.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The scrape of spoons against bowls was the only sound between them.
It was Elara who finally broke the silence.
"Nathan told you sparred this morning."
rlin’s hand stilled halfway to his mouth. "He talks too much."
Her eyes narrowed. "And?"
"And what?"
"How far ahead are you?"
’Too far. Leagues. More than he can ever know.’
rlin shrugged instead. "Far enough."
She set her spoon down, leaned forward slightly. "rlin. Don’t play dumb with . Nathan’s strong. Stronger than most I’ve ever seen. If you’re... more than that—"
"Does it matter?" rlin cut in, sharper than he ant to.
Elara froze. For a mont, her eyes softened, searching his face. Then she leaned back slowly, picking up her spoon again.
"It matters," she said quietly. "Because if you’re carrying sothing the rest of us can’t even keep up with... then sooner or later, you’re going to be alone on that road."
rlin clenched his jaw. He didn’t answer.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
—
Nathan found them after breakfast, of course.
He strolled into the ss hall like he owned it, bandages still wrapped around his side, grin plastered on his face. "Knew I’d find you two here. Thought maybe you’d ditched for so secret mission."
Elara rolled her eyes. "We’re not always plotting without you, Nathan."
Nathan smirked, dropping onto the bench beside rlin. "Good. Wouldn’t want to miss the fun."
rlin glanced at him. "Should you even be walking around?"
"Should you even be sulking around?" Nathan shot back, already stealing bread from Elara’s plate. "Guess neither of us listens to orders."
rlin shook his head, but a faint twitch at his mouth betrayed him. Nathan noticed, of course, and grinned wider.
"See? Still human after all."
Elara sighed. "Barely."
—
The yard again. This ti not for sparring, Nathan dragged them both out with a half-ford plan for "light training," though his version of light usually ended with soone bleeding.
The sun was higher now, bright but hazy, shadows cutting sharp across the training field. A few squads drilled at the far end, but Nathan steered them toward the open ground near the dummies.
"Alright," Nathan said, clapping his hands once. "Yesterday was swordwork. Today? Movent. Reflexes. Keeping sharp."
rlin arched a brow. "Reflexes. When you’re half-bandaged."
"Exactly," Nathan said cheerfully. "If I can dodge while half-dead, imagine at full health."
Elara muttered sothing under her breath about idiots, but she stayed, leaning against the fence to watch.
They started simple. Nathan tossed small stones at rlin, fast as he could. rlin caught every one. Then knives. Then sudden lunges.
Each ti, rlin’s body reacted before his mind. He flowed, sidestepped, caught, deflected.
Nathan grew more frustrated with every pass.
"Damn it!" he growled after rlin stopped his blade inches from his chest again. "It’s like you see it before it happens."
rlin’s grip tightened. "Maybe I do."
Nathan blinked at him, thrown off by the seriousness in his tone. Elara’s gaze sharpened, lips parting like she wanted to ask, but rlin stepped back, sheathing his sword.
"That’s enough."
"Like hell it is," Nathan snapped, bristling. But rlin didn’t turn back.
—
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Rebuilding. Reports. More drills. rlin moved through it all like a shadow, doing what was expected but never more.
By the ti night fell, his body ached with exhaustion, though not from the work. From restraint. From holding everything in.
He sat alone in his room again, armor off, tunic damp with sweat.
The system’s voice pulsed faintly in the back of his mind.
[Progression Status: Accelerating]
[Warning: Gap Widening]
rlin pressed a hand to his temple. "Shut up."
The words didn’t stop the ssages. They never did.
[Warning: Emotional Stability Declining]
He shoved the notifications aside, leaned back in his chair, and stared at the flickering lanternlight against the wall.
’If I keep this up, Nathan’s going to notice. Elara already suspects. And when they know... what then?’
He dragged both hands over his face.
’What happens when I’m not just ahead, but so far beyond them I can’t even see them behind anymore?’
The knock at the door was soft this ti.
rlin froze, head snapping toward it.
"Elara," he muttered, half to himself.
But when the door creaked open, it wasn’t Elara.
It was Nathan.
He slipped inside without waiting for permission, closing the door behind him. His grin was gone for once, replaced with sothing harder, more serious.
rlin straightened slowly. "...What is it?"
Nathan studied him for a mont, then crossed the room and dropped into the chair opposite.
"You’re hiding sothing."
rlin’s chest tightened.
Nathan leaned forward, forearms on his knees. "I don’t know what. I don’t know how. But you are. And don’t bother denying it."
rlin’s fingers curled against his leg.
’He doesn’t know. He can’t know. But if he keeps pushing—’
Nathan’s voice was quiet, steady. "I don’t care what it is, rlin. Not right now. Just... don’t shut out. Don’t shut us out. You’re not carrying this alone, no matter how much you want to."
rlin stared at him.
For once, he didn’t have a ready answer.
—
The night stretched long after Nathan left.
rlin sat alone, listening to the faint sounds of the fortress settling. Soldiers shifting in their bunks. Wind pushing against the shutters. The faint hiss of lanterns burning low.
His system chid once more.
[Objective Reminder: Survive]
rlin closed his eyes, whispering to the empty room.
"I’m trying."
—
The morning haze clung low over the fortress grounds, dampening the air with a chill that clung to rlin’s tunic. Nathan was already out in the yard, stretching his shoulders like the bandages ant nothing, wooden sword in hand and that cocky grin plastered on his face.
"You look like death," Nathan called. "Perfect ti to spar."
rlin rolled his shoulders, stepping onto the dirt. "You just don’t learn."
Nathan barked a laugh. "One of these days I’ll catch you slipping. And when I do, you’ll owe a drink."
Elara leaned against the fence again, arms folded, watching them with the sa guarded expression she always wore when Nathan was about to get himself killed.
rlin picked up the wooden blade Nathan had tossed to him. The weight was laughable compared to the real steel he was used to, but it would do.
They squared off.
Nathan lunged first, fast, his blade coming in from the side. rlin’s body moved before his mind even registered the attack, he stepped past, twisted, and his sword tapped Nathan’s ribs before the other boy even realized he’d missed.
"Cheap," Nathan muttered, resetting.
"Clean," rlin corrected.
The next flurry ca harder, sharper. Nathan’s strikes had weight behind them now, his movents honed by months of drilling.
Anyone else would have struggled. But to rlin, it was slow. Too slow. Every swing felt like it ca in fragnts, he saw where it would land before Nathan’s body even followed through.
Tap to the wrist. Tap to the collar. Tap to the knee.
Each ti rlin struck, Nathan stumbled back, frustration burning hotter in his eyes.
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