The morning arrived sooner than Garima wanted. She woke up but still wanted to laze around in bed. For a while she stayed there beneath the covers, staring blankly at the ceiling above her bed. The artifact sat on the table beside the bed, cold and dim without its glow.
The conversation with Cosmo had ended hours ago but the weight of it hadn't.
Renya's face kept surfacing— exhausted eyes. Carefully rationing the meat buns.
Surviving. That was the word Cosmo had used. Garima pressed her palm flat against the bed. Her ribs and shoulders protested immediately. Everything hurt a little less than yesterday. It still hurts.
Getting out of the bed and reaching the bathhouse took longer than she would ever admit—forcing herself upright. Changing clothes was a nuisance. Bending hurts. Turning hurt. Stretching hurts. Even untying robes had become difficult. Those were small humiliations. A tiny annoyance that nobody noticed.
She stepped in. The stored water was cold. But after spending two days having people wipe her down like a child. Garima didn't even care.
She lowered herself into the marbled tub and relaxed. She just sat there for a moment with her eyes closed.
Then— Knock. Knock.
"Garima,! When did you wake up?" Ava's voice called from outside. "You went in alone! should I come in?"
Garima spoke without even opening her eyes.
"I can manage, Ava, don't worry it's alright."
"Are you sure?"
"I am."
"Are you sure?"
"Very."
There was silence. Then — "...Moderately sure?"
Garima nearly laughed. "I can manage, Ava."
Another pause.
"Okay." Then — "Oh. Breakfast is soon."
"Ava."
"Yes?"
"Can you tell Agatha to summon Rowan? I need to discuss something."
There was silence on the other side of the door.
"What? Why?" Ava asked immediately. "You haven't fully recovered.."
"A new vision!" Garima interrupted quickly. "Please."
There was a pause for sometime.
"Okay!" Ava sighed. "I will tell her."
Garima heard rustling of clothes.
"And I prepared your robes outside."
Garima blinked. She had forgotten to bring clothes.
"Thankyou Ava."
"Welcome" Footsteps disappeared down the hallway.
Garima stared at the tiled wall for a moment then buried her face in her hands.
She got out and dried herself slowly before putting on the robes Ava had prepared for her. Which irritated her. All the knots, strings and layers. Even Sarees felt easier to drape than mediaeval clothing. Still it was a relied she didn't have to wear corset. Or else she would have died of suffocation.
She adjusted the final knot and picked up the artifact, slipping it inside her robe. She walked slowly through shire halls.
Technically she could have gone back to bed afterward. She was still a patient. But she didn't.
The corridors were quiet this early. A few priest carrying buckets filled with water or bath or mopping the floors. Or others with scrolls beneath their arms. Greetings her politely.
Garima walked quietly. Thinking. Contemplating. She had already decided. Renya was heading toward Solmere. A city where nobody knew her. A place where her past would not follow her. But Solmere was days away on foot.Renya didn't have money to hire wagons. Which meant Rowan's people could reach her first.Offer transportation from a natural meeting.A kind merchent nothing suspicious. Nothing grand. A lucky coincidence. She could take Immediate action with minimum visibility.
The kind that would make Rowan suspicious. But still pull Renya toward her side. Garima didn't realise when she reached the courtyard. She had an appointment with Sir Lawrance later after breakfast.
So seeing someone already sitting there made her pause.
Sir Ruslan sat at the stone table with a rigid posture and arms folded. Expression blank as always.
Garima kept walking and sat across him carefully.
"You took your time." His voice carried sarcasm. "Your Holiness."
Garima didn't react. Dylan. Definitely Dylan. He probably told Sir Ruslan she would be here and intentionally forgot to tell her. A petty revenge. Unfortunately Sir Ruslan was immune to pettiness.
"Goodmorning." Garima said as she sat carefully. "Sorry for making you wait."
Sir Ruslan studied her. His gaze moved over her shoulder to her face and finally towards her hands resting against the table.
"You look terrible."
"Oh, just lack of sleep." She said.
"Your form." Garima looked at him.
Garima looked at him.
"The movement in the training hall." He continued. " The way you redirected the strike—it wasn't instinct." He leaned back slightly. "You understand the principle, the execution collapsed. It was a foundation."
Garima was quiet for a moment. She looked down at her hands."You are right."
"I tried incorporating two things." She said. "A dance and a combat form. They compliment each other. Same roots. One became art, the other became war."
"A dance?" Sir Ruslan repeated. Unconvinced.
"Yes" Garima answered moving her fingers slowly. "It trains the body in weight and flow. To move without resistance. To make something look effortless while your entire body is working."
"And the combat form?"
"You could call it one of the oldest form of combat." She watched him. "The footwork, the strikes, the way the body shifts from one foot to another. It trains the body to be a weapon itself."
Ruslan was silent for a moment.
"Did the Goddess teach you?" He asked.
Garima didn't reply. Neither agreeing. Nor declining.
"But you do not know it"
"I know the dance. Some steps not fully?"
"So both should be mastered."
"No," Garima said. "The dance is like water. And the fight style is the current beneath."
"You only know the Dance."
"No." She said, "You were correct about me. I abandoned both halfway. At different ages." She looked at her hands. "A body remembers what the mind forgets. But memory without discipline is a disaster. That's what you saw in the hall."
Ruslan unfolded his arms.
"So we are not starting from nothing," he said.
"I don't know." Garima said "I don't think it will matter after what you saw."
Ruslan almost smiled. "That is for me to judge."
Garima tilted her head. "I thought you disliked me."
"I don't trust you."
"That's not the same thing."
"No." he agreed. "It isn't."
The. He stood.
"When Priestess Agatha clears you—Come to the hall.Before everyone is awake" He looked directly at her. "I want discipline. Not performance."
"Thankyou."
He nodded once and turned to leave as footsteps approached from the corridor. Sir Lawrance arrived carrying a stack of document and a few maps tucked beneath one arm. Slightly breathless. He stopped the moment he saw Ruslan. Ruslan stopped too.
They stared at each other for sometime. Their gaze held the shared history that Garima was not privy to. She watched them both with great interest and said nothing..
"Headmaster Lawrance." Ruslan nodded.
"Sir, Ruslan." Lawrance replied.
Ruslan left without further comment. Lawrance watched him go, then turned to Garima with an expression that said nothing at all.
"Old friend?" Garima asked.
"Something like that." Lawrance said and sat down. "How are you?"
"I am okay as you can see."
Lawrance unfolded the map first. The Kingdom of Arden spread before them in the stone table— borders, territories, rivers mountains. Garima leaned forward despite her ribs.
"Let's learn something you love." Lawrance began. "Solmere is he capital and the King resides and the major guilds and the academy." His fingers moved east "Berriet borders the Salan Forest known for its military might. The knights are often from that region. Duke Ruslan's territory. They have trade posts and lesser nobles." He pointed to the west. "Fanthia governed by Marquees Silas. This is the wealthiest territory. This place can be considered a merchant heaven." Then he pointed to north. "Ozgar surround the sirien forest. Governed by Marquise Riven. It known for Agriculture and they have the highest number of mages." He paused then tapped the remaining side"And the southern region Domnur. Governed Duke Eren."
"What's wrong.?" Garima asked.
"It complicated. Duke Eren recently inherited after his father's death. The region is famous for a specific thing. It has smaller guilds and multiple smaller territories and lesser royal control." He folded his arms. "Many political issues, internal strife. People are watching to see him if he holds."
Garima looked at the map quietly. Her eyes drifted towards Fanthia. She looked at it a little longer then necessary. She didn't want to learn Geography today. Then—
"Tell me about the currency."
Lawrance blinked. "Currency?"
"Money.How does that work here? She asked.
Lawrance stared at her for several seconds. Then sighed.
"Sils" he said. "Gold, Silver, Copper and Iron."
Lawrance reached into his robe and placed four sils on the table in descending order.
"Common people carry Copper and Iron. A Copper covers a day's meal or modest lodging. Iron for smaller things — bread, market stalls." He tapped the silver. "This is the commoner's comfortable living. Gold is savings,Trade between merchants and nobles."
"Above gold?"
"You know about Exchange houses?" Lawrance raised an eyebrow.
"I don't, so tell me."
"The Exchange houses— or Exchange convert accumulated sils into stored metals for large holdings. Adamantine ingots and Platinum plates." He settled back slightly "Most common people never see them in their life."
She thought about Renya. Two meat buns. A handful of copper. She would compensate her properly when the time came. A real sword. At least twenty silver sils worth. She had already decided that much.
Then she thought about the other sword. A sentient sword.
The one she had written in a single paragraph without stopping to think about it. Sitting— unclaimed, rusted, tucked in a small smithy down an alley nobody bothered with anymore. She had written Renya taking it for free after saving the smithy master from trouble. Not knowing what she held. Not knowing it had been waiting for her specifically.
Garima had called it Excalibur in her manuscript because that was exactly what it was.
Renya had named it Darla. After her mother.
And Renya was enroute to Solmere. Which meant Garima needed to take the sword before Renya. She still remembered Cosmo's words. But she needed it more than Renya did at the moment.
Her fingers tightened slowly beneath the table.
"Garima?"
She blinked. Sir Lawrance was looking at her with mild concern.
"You looked troubled for a moment."
"No." She looked at the map. "Just thinking."
Her stomach growled. Only then did she remembered she hadn't had her breakfast.
Then Renya's face surfaced again.
Hold on Renya.
Then she thought about the sword.
She looked at Lawrance. "I want to see the city properly." She paused a little. "The smithies, the education institutes for commoners. I want to see them."
"That's oddly specific." Lawrance paused a little. "But Agatha won't allow it"
"Visual learning is more effective" she gestured at the coins on the table."Even you just proved that."
Lawrance looked at the sils. He was out maneuvoured by his own methodology.
"When you have recovered." he said carefully.
"Tomorrow." Garima said.
"But—"
"I will manage Agatha."
Lawrance opened his mouth. Then closed it.
Garima looked at Fanthia one last time. She had to get the sword before Renya arrived. Only that was she will be strong enough to protect people close to her. And even Renya
I am sorry Renya.Hold on