Taní’s short, eventful life should’ve prepared him for just about anything. He had traveled the coastal expanse of the kingdom as a Grazer, explored endless, ravenous forests that devoured the distant brush in liquid shadow, and brushed against the fabled Dagger of Vale?o. It was the one place that never failed to unease Danza. The nights there were…different. A dark so absolute that no light could pierce its drape save the roiling glow of his phialed blood.


    People there rambled about a voice. One so soft that it spoke to you in your dreams. Taní never heard it, just as Taní didn’t believe the ghost story surrounding the Eastern Green’s malicious forest. Not that his jesting ever dissuaded the man from performing the proper sancraments. The man still made him cling to his most prized possession. Said it “repelled the touch of the brush.” Paranoid bunch.


    Beastless and bandit-ridden as his travels have been, none of that prepared him for the ungodly, pervasive stench hanging in the instructor’s office. Good blood, how did it smell worse than the main training room?


    “Master…”


    “Once more, D’Histell.”


    “Master, please…my arm… I think it’s gonna pop off.”


    “Once. More. D’Histell.”


    An arcing blur flanked Taní, prompting his aching arms to adopt a guard. Or they would’ve if he could muster any strength to do so. His vision flashed red, and with it, the familiar searing of something crashing against his skull.


    Taní stumbled back, his jelly-filled legs wobbling as they threatened to give out, but in the end, he stood tall. Buckling, really, but tall. Somehow. Folding after a simple blow like that was, as Eleanor lovingly critiqued with that austere front of hers, inexcusable. A moment of weakness only resulted in death.


    He had to be clever, faster than the god-blessed Lunarkin saluting him.


    Once Eleanor’s office cooled to its blues and whites, Taní sliced forward with a quick thrust of his blade. Form impeccable, wrist snapping with the practiced ease of a thousand lessons. The Tyrian, unphased by his ferocity, parried the blow with a deft flick. In that split second, she retaliated, blade crashing like a soundless thunderbolt.


    The bite never came. Eleanor gently graced his shoulder with the waster’s edge, still as a branch on a windless day, but he saw it move. Each image coalescing into a single wooden blade. Not an afterimage.


    “You—You aren’t using Sedd, right?” Taní squeaked.


    Eleanor drew her sword back with a rigid flourish. That’s when it came to him: she carved the pyramid favored by the royal guard after a live exhibition. “As I’ve stated before: No. I am not.”


    “Then how’re you moving so fast?”


    “Practice makes perfect, D’Histell.”


    “…Do you even realize what you’re saying? Actually, do you even realize how fast you move most of the time? It’s like you already lived the moment, and the world’s trying ot catch up!”


    “What else is training for, if not to overcome our deficiencies?”


    Taní stared at her. “Master, you’re almost seven feet tall. No amount of training’s ever gonna make up for that.”


    An amused smile touched Eleanor’s lips. She paced, the flat of her waster tapping against her sturdy thigh. “While our physical limitations may hinder us, one shouldn’t resign themselves to disappointment. Answer me this, D’Histell: What is one to do when they cannot accomplish a task through practical means?”


    “Find a shortcut.”


    “Ah, but rarely do shortcuts ever exist. We might believe them to be wholly good, perhaps even revolutionary, so why do they remain obscure?”


    Taní rapped his ankle with the tip of his blade. Danza believed the hard way was the only good way. Shortcuts weren’t entirely realistic, but why was that? “Maybe they only work for some people?” he assumed, voice distant with thought.


    “No, D’Histell. They work only for those who’ve dedicated themselves to a craft. Those with decades, even a lifetime’s worth of experience. It is through one’s intimate knowledge of a subject that they can bend the rules. That is what separates the competent from the great: the ability to understand why something works the way it does and how, in altering the formula, we ascend,” Eleanor explained.


    Taní’s heart fluttered. Her matter-of-fact explanation, the underlying confidence of her firm tone, and the effortless ease with which she brandished a saber? Grazers and Preservers prided themselves on competent swordsmanship, but her? She needed not demonstrate to prove her ability. Not when the unyielding spirit of fencing spoke through her.


    “Master?” Taní called, his voice low and filled with awe.


    “Yes?”


    “You’re beyond cool.”


    Eleanor’s stoic fa?ade shattered, her once narrowed eyes widening into saucers. She glanced either way, her lips continuously parting for a response but erring from production. Finally, she gave up. Her regal features quicksilver.


    “Yes, well… I—I’m honored.” Pausing, she gave a rough shake of her head, her pale blonde strands whipping in front of her face. “Enough of that. We must proceed with our lesson.”


    He nodded and followed through. She quizzed him over the Western stances and, though she had yet to delve into the unit with the rest of the class, discussed the Eastern schools. Those—as Taní learned—encompassed the styles that inspired D’Arcian fencing.


    One thing he found more fascinating than the style was the history behind Harusto itself. A sort of island nation drowned in reeds, not unlike New Nimmin, but more temperate. How anyone ever found their way back home when the reeds were taller than men was beyond him.


    D’Arcy’s decade-long stay in the kingdom, as well as the odd trade agreement between New Nimmian and that eastern land, proved the only reliable sources of the nation. Knee-deep blood flooded the land, turning the tall stalks a crimson hue. If people weren’t fighting, wandering swordsmen took up apprentices with a fervor matched only by their thirst for battle.


    Despite being something of a shut-in, Eleanor owned dozens of paintings hung at the back of her office. Each portrayed a sweeping vista with a tall, wooden shrine and things called “keystone graves.” There were also trees with peculiar pink leaves that looked tasty enough to eat and fire mountains with snow-capped tops.


    All these discoveries tickled Taní’s brain in the right way. A place so unlike Corat?o… What were the people really like? And the clime? Were there really wandering swordsman roaming the land capable of slaying dragons, even splitting a mountain in twain?


    As Eleanor finished her breathless lecture and Taní returned to the moment, he raised a trembling hand.


    “Yes, D’Histell?”


    “When do we learn about using Sedd?” he questioned.


    Eleanor frowned. “That would be master Ayra’s duty, not mine.”


    “But you said we’d be applying Sedd to our routine, right?”


    “Yes—”


    “And you said we’d be doing it in a few months, right? So why aren’t we focusing on that?”


    Eleanor sighed. “D’Histell…”


    “What? You’re the Art teacher. Shouldn’t you be teaching what they’re paying you for?” Taní pressed.


    “I’m trying to make it easier for you to understand.”


    “But you said there weren’t shortcuts, so why bother making it easier?”


    “Shortcuts are not my primary concern, D’Histell. My issue lies with your…how should I put this?” Eleanor pursed her lips, blade whipping pensively against her palm. When the soft smack of wood on skin finally ceased, she murmured, “Inability to express your Sedd.”


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Right. The only thing he ever wanted since he left Histell was beyond his grasp. Preserver he may be, his Mother’s blessing had yet to stir. Maybe there was a reason why.


    Maybe she didn’t consider him worthy enough.


    Ashamed, he looked away. “…Are you angry?”


    “Pardon?”


    “That I can’t use it like everyone else. I’ve been trying to for years, trust me, but no matter what I do, I’m just stuck like this.” He gestured to himself. “Being with a squire that hasn’t even Awakened isn’t ideal. I know it isn’t. You don’t have to lie. Masters probably work their butts off just trying to Awaken their students, but Danza… I dunno. Maybe that’s why he left me here. He probably just gave up like everyone else did.”


    Eleanor knelt with a swiftness that belied her stature and, gingerly taking his arms in her hands, whispered, “If I were to choose a squire based on Sedd alone, I’d have done so long ago. Sedd isn’t what makes a Juneac?o a Juneac?o. I’ve told you this countless times before, and if I must, then I will endeavor to do so.”


    “Then why bother going through all of this?”


    “Because you’ve taught me something I never thought I’d learn. A gift greater than the blood of the founders. I could never hate you for that, and if your master was half as kind as your stories make him out to be, then neither did he.” She gently squeezed his arms, just like his mother would whenever she wanted to emphasize her point. “You needn’t fear your inability, Taní. It is but an obstalce. One you are destined to circumvent.”


    “…How do you know that?” Taní asked.


    “Because you’ve yet to yield. Not then, and certainly not now. You’re better than that. Most squires after a year end their apprenticeship because they could not Awaken. Either through their own volition or their master’s shame, yet here you remain. Why?”


    Taní conjured several lies to defend himself with, yet he could utter none of them. Even the vile, venomous ones the other squires whispered behind his back were there.


    To be here, to just meander, hoping something good would come of his efforts…that wasn’t why he tried. So why couldn’t he remember the actual reason? Wasn’t that why he had begged Danza to take him along?


    Stories often detailed the heroic nobility of the Juneac?o. That they were chivalrous do-gooders that defied evil in all its forms, so why had every squire shunned him? Why had the Preservers passed him without ever so much as acknowledging his existence? That he, just like every Grazer, just wanted to be like them.


    His late father always said that he wanted to be like them. That it was the highest calling in life, and maybe a small part of Taní wanted to believe that the man was his inspiration. But he didn’t want to fight because the old stories were exciting. He didn’t want to work just because it made him “better” than everyone else. That was shallow.


    And not knowing what he wanted, or who he was, left him with a chill that coiled in his guts.


    Realizing he couldn’t respond, Eleanor continued. “Greater Juneac?o than us have failed at lesser tasks, Taní. Remember that. It is through your will, and yours alone, that an Awakening will come to be. Not mine, not the founders'', and certainly not Tygenna''s. You, just like everyone else, possess the potential to be more. Claiming otherwise is naught but a complete fallacy.” She eased her grip, yet her tender gaze never left his. “That is why I shan’t relent. Your Awakening will come, and if I must, then I shall fuel it myself. I swear this upon my mother’s honor.”


    Despite the dark thoughts, despite his want to stay rooted in that gloom, a grin wormed its way onto Taní’s lips. “Y’know, you sound a lot like Danza when you speak like that. Just fancier.”


    Eleanor returned the smile. “I suppose a true education has its perks.”


    She broke away from him a moment later, her eyes resting on a shelf across from him. They appeared a little misty, but that might have been his smell more than anything. He still hadn’t showered despite Jaster’s objections. Maybe tonight he could get a light rinse in. No one deserved that sort of stenchful agony.


    “Master,” Taní said.


    She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. “Yes?”


    “How was Hierrsé for you?”


    “Adequate. I never struggled with any of my courses, though Literature and Mathematics were unpleasant. Why?”


    “Did you ever struggle with Sedd?”


    Eleanor shook her head. “I can’t say that I did. Sedd…came naturally to me. Though I suppose that’s on account of my blood.”


    “Lunarkin, right?” Taní asked, dropping all pretenses.


    Eleanor tensed. “…Yes.”


    “Do you not like being one?”


    “I wouldn’t say that, I’m just…” Her lips thinned into a line. “Are you not bothered by the fact?”


    “Not really. You never really seemed…” Taní debated on how to best word his response but ultimately threw caution to the wind. “Normal. Not weird! Just different, y’know?”


    “I suppose it’s not common to come across one such as I.”


    “Because you’re almost seven feet tall and built like a wall?”


    “Why, yes I— Did you just call me WIDE?”


    Taní tapped his chin. “Maybe? A little? You’re not really…skinny. Even in the art uniform.” He tilted his head. “Actually, you look kinda bulky when you’re wearing your regalia.”


    A low rumble emanated from the towering instructor. “D-D’Histell.”


    “It’s kinda weird since you dance around real good when you’re fighting. It’s like…I dunno. You’re so elegant for someone so powerful.”


    “Cease your ramblings this instant.”


    “Like, are all Lunarkin born like this, or are you just—”


    A blur of motion followed by the unholy radiation of heat erupted from the top of Taní’s head. He desperately clawed at the open wound, a soundless howl touching his lips as blood rushed to the bump.


    “Do you learn nothing, D’Histell?” Eleanor growled, the thick cords in her neck bulging.


    “God, was that you?”


    “Indeed, and if you’re thick enough to recap the subject, then I’ll clout you in the ear.”


    “I was just asking a question!”


    “How is insulting a woman’s beauty appropriate?”


    The throbbing ebbed with each second until (thankfully) only a faint sting occasionally bothered him. Not that it left him any happier. How she could hit harder than a full powered sword swing, he didn’t know.


    Taní righted himself and instantly averted his eyes from Eleanor’s as soon as he discovered she was glaring at him. It was just like when they first met.


    “Now, are you through with your questions? We’ve a lesson to finish,” she said.


    “Well…I’d be lying if I didn’t have more,” he admitted.


    She heaved a heavy sigh. “I will not answer them.”


    “You said something about being chosen? That’s what leads to Awakenings, right? The moment Tygenna claims you.”


    The dark rings under Eleanor’s eyes grew pronounced as she shot him a tired stare. She relinquished her grip on the waster, allowing it to clatter at her feet. “Yes. What of it?”


    “How do you know when she chooses you?”


    “She appears before you in the guise of that which you hold dearest.”


    “When you’re dreaming, right?” Taní pressed.


    “Yes…” Eleanor cocked a brow. “Has she presented herself to you?”


    Now that was going to be difficult to explain. Taní recounted his dreams to the best of his ability, earning reactions from Eleanor that bordered from pure bewilderment to outright confusion. The latter being received when he mentioned the “pulse” of the world. She passed it off as a noise in his waking world worming its way into his dreams.


    “One moment, D’Histell,” Eleanor said, raising a hand. “Did you claim Tygenna in the guise of her highness?”


    “Yeah… What about it?” Taní asked, trying to act cool.


    “Dreams do not lie, D’Histell. Would you care to illuminate?”


    “I could… I could…but we’ve got more pressing matters to discuss. Like why haven’t I Awakened? I’ve seen her twice, but I’m still like this.”


    Eleanor cupped her chin. “I know not, nor have I ever heard of Tygenna visiting more than once. Yours is a strange coincidence, D’Histell. Perhaps the history instructor can prove to be of aid.”


    Taní stiffened. “Oh, no thanks. I think I’m good. I’ll just think it over a little. Thanks for helping.” His gaze drifted to the door, and when he was sure no one was eavesdropping, leaned in and whispered, “Tygenna… She called me her blood. What does that mean?”


    “Is that not obvious? She considers you her child, as she does all Juneac?o. And so, that only confirms my suspicion.”


    “And what’s that?”


    Eleanor marched across the room until she stood opposite of her desk. “What drives you, Taní? Is it the thrill of your ascension? Or perhaps the songs they’ll sing of your glory? Do you find the prospect of teaching others as captivating as the rising sun, or do you dread to think about what could come if you remain idle? Lives are lost every moment. Even now, one could be suffering without your notice.”


    Taní squirmed. Corat?o’s peace encompassed every county, no matter where he and Danza went. Village after town, each city hosting a grand feast or parade to celebrate some holiday. Killings were rare. Fighting, sure, but taking another life? Every Juneac?o they came across, no matter how cruel, refrained from said act.


    And he? The one who dreamt of a Prism too perfect to exist, a sky that only glared at them with all the hate of the Solanarium? What could someone who only dreamt of the same thing ever want? If slumber served to remind them of past Wishes, of forgotten glory, then was there anything left for him? Was this all he’d amount to?


    If his mind could wander beyond the pounding rain of the Prism, beyond the glow of the Tower, beyond the slippery wet grass that threatened to devour him, if he could see more than HER face, then would this all mean so much more? Could it be so much more? Or was this all he wanted?


    “Taní,” Eleanor called, her eloquent voice breaking past the wall of thoughts. “What do you fight for?”


    Taní defaulted to what he so often told Danza. “The safety of Corat?o.”


    “No. What do you fight for? What do you dread losing? Peace will come and go. Any true Juneac?o knows this. That is why we cling to our hearts, our desires. They are what drive us when the world loses all meaning. Take me, for example. I thought myself beyond saving, yet it is through your kindness that my life was granted new meaning. Your faith not only restored my strength but made it twofold.” Eleanor bowed her head. “And for that, I am eternally grateful.”


    Taní tilted his head. He wasn’t aware that he made that much of an impact. Being nice wasn’t even that hard. Anyone could do it. Why would him being nice affect her any differently?


    “Do you understand, D’Histell?”


    “I think so. Before coming here, I just traveled with Danza because being a Juneac?o was the greatest thing I could ever think of doing. Saving people and being famous are just bonuses, y’know? But that’s not why I did any of this,” he said.


    “Then why, pray tell, are you here?”


    “…I don’t know.”