Julien was relentless.
What little time the boys were not sent flying across fields, lakes, and forests was spent sparring one another beneath the wide clearing behind the mansion.
Bruises bloomed across their bodies like dark flowers, and the dust of the training ground never quite left their skin. Even their arguments had grown hoarse from exhaustion.
On the first morning of the next phase of training, Julien stood before them with a quiet expression that made Stephen uneasy.
"Your objective is simple, Stephen," he said.
He raised his hand. Wrapped around his wrist was a length of chain. At the end of it hung three small bells, each one polished to a dull shine. They chimed softly whenever his hand moved.
"Grab at least one bell and you will have supper tonight."
Stephen frowned, studying the chain.
"Two bells," Julien continued, "and you will have tomorrow off."
Torren, who had been lounging on a nearby stump with his chin resting in his palm, lifted his head.
"What if he gets all three?" he asked.
Stephen crossed his arms. "Yeah. What if I managed to get all three?"
Julien's lips twitched into a faint smile.
"Then," he said calmly, "I would have nothing left to teach you."
Torren whistled low under his breath.
"Well that sounds optimistic."
He gestured vaguely toward the clearing. "So what exactly am I supposed to be doing while Steph plays bell thief?"
Julien turned toward him.
"You," the old man said, "I am to teach courage."
Before Torren could question what that meant, Julien stepped forward. With careful hands he unwound the chain of bells from his own wrist and looped it once around Torren's neck.
The bells chimed quietly as they settled against his collarbone.
"Hey—hold on—"
Julien produced a strip of black cloth and tied it securely around Torren's eyes.
Torren froze.
"You're kidding."
Julien tightened the knot.
"Instinct and action," he said. "You boys will function as the left and right hands of the same body. One strikes when the other creates the opportunity."
Then, as if Torren weighed nothing at all, Julien lifted him clean off the ground with one hand.
"Whoa—!"
The old man carried him forward a few paces and set him down roughly three feet in front of Stephen.
"That should do."
Julien stepped back the same distance and folded his arms.
"Again," he said, "quite simple."
He gestured between them.
"Reach Torren and retrieve the bells, Steph."
Stephen's brow furrowed.
"And you, Torren—put your faith in him."
Torren shifted uncomfortably, blindfolded and listening to the faint jingle at his throat.
Julien clasped his hands behind his back.
"Ready—"
Stephen was already thinking.
Alright, if we can figure something out—
Maybe if Torren shifts slightly to the right, I could—
Julien moved.
In the span of a heartbeat the old man crossed the distance between them.
Each step dug small craters in the earth.
His hand shot forward and grabbed Torren by the face.
Torren gasped.
"Stephen—Shi—!"
Stephen barely had time to shout.
"Stop it!"
But Torren was already lifted clear off the ground, hanging from Julien's grip like a rag doll.
For a moment Stephen braced himself for the inevitable.
He had seen this before.
He expected Torren to be hurled skyward.
Instead Julien calmly set him back on his feet.
Then he walked back to his original position as if nothing had happened.
"Let us try again," he said.
Stephen stared at him.
"And this time," Julien added mildly, "try not to make it so easy for me."
The cycle continued.
Day after day.
Night after night.
Stephen tried everything he could think of.
Direct charges.
Sudden feints.
Running arcs through the clearing.
Each attempt ended the same way.
Julien would close the gap before Stephen reached Torren.
Every single time.
Sometimes he grabbed Torren by the face.
Sometimes by the collar.
Once he simply flicked a finger against Torren's chest and sent him sprawling.
Each failure left them more battered than the last.
By the third night their stomachs were empty and their bodies ached with dull exhaustion.
Arguments filled the silence between attempts.
"You're hesitating!"
"You're standing like a statue!"
"Well maybe if you weren't so slow—"
"Maybe if you weren't blindfolded like a fool—"
The shouting usually ended when Ana appeared.
The maid would quietly sneak them bowls of soup and thick slices of bread once Julien disappeared inside for the night.
"Eat quickly," she would whisper.
The boys did not argue with her.
They devoured the food in silence.
Stephen rarely made it back to his bed before sleep claimed him. Most nights he collapsed where he sat.
Torren, even half asleep, still attempted some weak charm while Ana dragged them toward their rooms.
"You know," he mumbled once, eyes barely open, "I think the bruises really bring out my good side."
Ana rolled her eyes and pushed him through the door.
On the fourth morning something unexpected happened.
Julien stepped onto the porch with his cup of drink and glanced toward the clearing.
He had expected the boys to be asleep.
Or bickering.
Instead he found them standing at attention.
Waiting.
Julien paused.
He set his cup down carefully beside the porch railing and approached them.
"What," he said slowly, "are you two idiots doing?"
Stephen straightened.
"We will begin as soon as you are ready, Grandfather."
Julien raised an eyebrow.
"Say that you are," he replied. "How will today be any different?"
Torren grinned despite the bruises lining his face.
"Just watch."
Stephen nodded.
Their lips were cracked. Their cheeks were swollen. But their eyes held a quiet confidence that had not been there before.
Julien studied them for a long moment.
Then he shrugged.
"Very well."
He lifted the bells once more and fastened them around Torren's neck. The blindfold followed.
"Let us have at it."
Stephen stepped forward.
Or rather—
He pretended to.
Julien moved instantly.
The old man surged forward with terrifying speed, each step gouging the dirt beneath his feet.
In a blink he loomed over Torren, his shadow falling across the blindfolded boy.
Torren felt the presence before the touch.
His heart thundered in his chest.
Now.
"Now!" Stephen shouted.
Torren moved.
He dropped low, pivoting his stance in one sharp motion.
His leg swept across the ground toward Julien's ankle.
Julien reacted instantly.
He leapt backward, clearing the sweep with ease.
"Huh," he muttered.
"That was unexpected—"
Stephen was already moving.
He closed the distance the moment Julien's weight shifted.
Torren reached up, fumbling briefly with the chain around his neck.
Stephen grabbed the bells.
A moment later the blindfold came loose as well.
The clearing fell silent.
Julien blinked.
"Well," he said slowly, "I may have to eat my words."
He walked toward them, examining the bells now resting in Stephen's hand.
Then he frowned.
"Hold on."
Julien looked between them.
"You tricked me?"
Torren grinned.
"Yes."
Julien folded his arms.
"What was the point of this?" he asked. "You altered the purpose of the training. Yes, you bested me—but you betrayed the lesson."
Stephen shook his head.
"Instinct and action."
Julien's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Hmph."
Stephen took a breath.
"You told us those were our weaknesses."
Torren nodded.
"So we spent every night trying to figure out how to overcome them."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Honestly? We had no idea what we were doing."
Stephen sighed.
"So we argued. A lot."
Torren snorted.
"Day and night."
"And then it clicked."
Stephen paused.
"I realized—"
"Hold on," Torren interrupted. "What do you mean you realized? It was my idea."
Stephen turned toward him.
"I'm the one who turned it into an actual plan."
"Oh please."
"The two of you can fight later," Julien interrupted dryly.
"What exactly was this plan?"
Stephen gestured toward Torren.
"Instinct," he said. "To move without relying on expectations."
Torren crossed his arms.
"And action. To move with intention."
He pointed toward Stephen.
"Steph needed me to act first."
Stephen nodded.
"And I needed to trust myself to know when the moment was right."
He glanced down at the bells.
"By taking Torren's role, the expected passiveness became the opportunity."
Torren shrugged.
"Yeah. I relied on him."
Stephen added quietly,
"And Torren made it this far because he trusted my plan."
The clearing grew still.
Julien regarded them both with a thoughtful expression.
For several seconds he said nothing.
Finally he reached forward and took the bells from Stephen's hand.
"Return to your positions."
The boys exchanged a glance.
They obeyed.
Julien walked back to his mark in the dirt and wrapped the chain once more around his wrist.
When he turned around, the faintest smile had crept onto his face.
"Again," he said.
Stephen frowned.
"We already—"
"This time," Julien interrupted, lifting his hand, "the bells will be with me."
Torren groaned.
"Fantastic."
Julien's eyes gleamed.
"Remember, lads."
He tapped the bells lightly. They chimed in the quiet clearing.
"Instinct and action."
He spread his arms slightly.
"Now come at me."
The wind stirred the dust around their feet.
Stephen glanced toward Torren.
Torren grinned back.
"Let's show him what we've learned."
Julien's smile widened.
"Indeed," he said.
"Show me."