Winter. Deep.
Aldric had lost count of the days.
Somewhere around week seven, the numbers had blurred together. Training. Eating. Sleeping. Training again. The rhythm was constant, relentless, the same every day.
But his body had stopped screaming.
That was the first thing he noticed when he woke on the first day of the third month. No sharp pains. No stiff joints. Just... quiet. His muscles hummed with readiness instead of protest.
He lay still, testing.
Arms: strong. Legs: ready. Back: solid. Ribs: healed.
When did that happen?
He couldn't pinpoint the moment. Sometime in the past weeks, his body had stopped fighting him and started working with him. The running was easier. The lifting was lighter. The falling—
He still hated falling.
But it didn't hurt the way it used to.
---
The training ground was frozen solid.
Winter had deepened over the past month. Snow covered everything—the practice dummies, the supply tents, the paths between buildings. Soldiers moved through it like ghosts, bundled against cold that could kill.
Aldric barely noticed anymore.
He stood in the center of the ground, staff in hand, waiting. His breath misted in the air. His feet were cold, but not painful. His fingers, wrapped around the wood, were red but functional.
Mirena arrived exactly at dawn.
"You're getting faster," she said. Not a greeting. Just observation.
"I've been practicing."
"Alone?"
"Some."
She nodded. Walked past him to the rack. Selected a staff. Returned.
"Today we run."
Aldric blinked. "Run?"
"You can fall while walking. You can fall while standing still. Now you fall while running." She gestured at the training ground. "Full speed. End to end. When I call it, you fall."
Aldric looked at the distance. Fifty yards. Frozen ground. Ice patches hidden under snow.
"This is going to hurt."
"Yes."
He ran.
---
The first fall came twenty yards in.
Mirena's voice cut through the cold—"Now!"—and Aldric's body responded before his mind could catch up. He dropped. Rolled. Came up running.
It worked.
Actually worked.
He reached the end of the ground, turned, ran back.
"Now!"
Again. Drop. Roll. Up. Running.
Again.
Again.
Again.
By the twentieth repetition, his body moved without thought. Mirena's voice became a trigger—sound, then motion, seamless and automatic.
He didn't think about falling anymore.
He just... fell.
---
They broke at midday.
Aldric sat on a frozen log, breathing hard, steam rising from his body in the cold air. Mirena sat nearby, silent as always.
"You're improving," she said.
It wasn't praise. With Mirena, it was never praise. Just fact. But Aldric had learned to hear the difference.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Thank yourself. You're the one doing the work."
He nodded. Stared at the snow.
"The running falls," he said slowly. "I didn't think about them. I just—did."
"That's the goal. Thought is slow. Instinct is fast. In a fight, you don't have time to think."
Aldric considered this.
"How long until everything is instinct?"
Mirena was quiet for a moment.
"Years. Maybe never. But the more you practice, the more becomes automatic." She looked at him. "That's what we're doing. Building automatic. So when the moment comes, you don't have to decide. You just act."
The moment.
She meant the cavern. The final battle. The choice.
Aldric pushed the thought away.
"When do we start the next thing?"
"Tomorrow. Today you rest."
He blinked. "Rest?"
"Your body has adapted. That's good. But adaptation isn't unlimited. Push too hard, too fast, and you break." She stood. "Rest today. Tomorrow we add the staff while running."
She walked away.
Aldric sat on his log, alone in the frozen training ground, and tried to remember the last time he'd rested.
He couldn't.
---
That afternoon, he wandered the camp.
It felt strange—walking without purpose, without urgency. Soldiers passed him with nods or ignored him entirely. The camp did what it always did: drilled, repaired, prepared.
He found himself near the supply tents. Watched quartermasters argue over counts. Watched soldiers load wagons. Watched the endless motion of an army preparing for something.
War was coming. He knew that now. Lira had told them weeks ago.
Spring. Maybe sooner.
He should be scared. Part of him was scared. But mostly, he felt... steady.
I'm getting stronger, he thought. Really stronger.
Not strong enough. Not yet. But stronger.
He walked on.
---
At the edge of camp, near the trees, he stopped.
The forest loomed ahead. Dark. Silent. Full of things that watched.
He stood at the edge, staff in hand, and waited.
Nothing moved.
But he felt them. The hunters. Somewhere in that darkness, watching him with those patient, patient eyes.
"You know I'm getting stronger," he said quietly. "You can see it."
No response.
"That scares you, doesn't it? A little?"
Still nothing.
Aldric smiled. Just a little.
"Good."
He turned and walked back to camp.
---
That night, he sat by the fire with Grog.
Just the two of them. Lira was on duty. Mirena was researching. The camp was quiet around them.
"Mirena said I'm improving," Aldric offered.
Grog nodded. "You are."
"You've been watching?"
"Always."
Aldric stared into the flames. "I stood at the edge of the forest today. Talked to them. The hunters."
Grog went still.
"Nothing happened. They didn't show themselves. But I felt them watching." He looked at Grog. "I told them it scared them. That I'm getting stronger."
Grog's expression didn't change. But something flickered in his eyes.
"What did they do?"
"Nothing. That's the point." Aldric turned back to the fire. "They didn't respond. Didn't threaten. Didn't do anything. Like they didn't know what to say."
Grog was quiet for a long moment.
Then: "You're right. It does scare them."
Aldric nodded slowly.
"Good."
They sat together until the fire burned low.