Kael followed Oren back into the cave. As they crossed the threshold, Oren casually swiped his hand, and with a low rumble, the cave entrance sealed itself behind them with living stone. They descended a long flight of stairs that twisted through narrow, stone corridors lit faintly by lamps embedded in the walls. The silence was thick, except for their echoing footsteps.
Eventually, the path opened into a spacious subterranean hall. At its center stood a long, dark-wood dining table, ornate yet worn with age. To the right side, Kael spotted the auburn - haired girl already seated, a bowl of steaming soup before her. Two more bowls sat waiting - one at the head of the table, and another to the left.
Oren took the seat at the head. Kael, hesitating for only a second, moved to the left.
The girl didn't acknowledge him, sipping quietly from her bowl. Her eyes stayed low, her posture relaxed but closed.
"I presume you've already met my sweet granddaughter," Oren said, voice light with mischief. "This is Selene. She has her mother's temperament and her father's skills. Lucky me."
Kael gave a polite nod, unsure how to respond.
Oren continued, smiling wistfully, "Let's just say I sometimes wish she'd inherited some of her old grandfather's gentler qualities - but an old man's wishes are often spent long before his age catches up."
Selene shot Oren a dry, sideways glare, spoon pausing mid-air.
"Oho," Oren chuckled. "Would you look at that - my soup's getting cold. Best I eat quickly and shuffle off to bed before she poisons me with that stare."
Kael gave a nervous smile and quickly buried his face in the soup. The flavor surprised him - rich, hearty, laced with herbs he didn't recognize.
After dinner, Oren rose with a groan and stretched. "Rest well, boy. Your training begins first thing tomorrow - with Selene."
Selene, who had remained silent, turned sharply. "Why with me? I don't want to train with him."
Oren waved her off. "You're the two youngest here. We don't have the luxury to assign separate instructors."
Selene flushed. She pointed at Kael. "Listen, newbie. If you slow me down, I'll kill you myself."
Kael blinked.
"She's serious," Oren added with a grin. "Give it your all. Be ready in the morning - Selene will show you the way."
That night, Kael lay in bed staring at the stone ceiling. His body ached from tension more than exhaustion. Oren and that man - Rook - they were both unbelievably strong. Their movements, their power... it felt more like sorcery than strength. Were they Stigmata-bearers too? If so, was this what awaited him? Could he become like them?
The thought both terrified and thrilled him. With those thoughts swirling, he finally drifted to sleep.
A thunderous knocking jolted him awake.
"Hey!"
Kael stumbled to the door and cracked it open. Selene stood outside, arms crossed.
"I'm ready - let's go!" he said groggily.
She winced. "Ugh. Go wash your face. Your breath could kill a crow."
"Right, sorry - one minute!"
After freshening up, Kael followed her down a different tunnel that branched off from the main cavern. The passage opened into a massive training arena - flat stone floor, high ceiling, and walls lined with weapon racks. Bows, swords, shields, chakrams, spears... and dozens of strange weapons Kael couldn't even name.
Selene began warming up without a word. Kael mimicked her from a respectful distance.
Just as they finished, a side door creaked open. A tall man stepped into the light.
His body was lean but solid - muscles carved from years of work, marred by old wounds: slashes, burn marks, even what looked like a puncture from a spike. He radiated quiet danger.
Selene's face lit up, then fell into a half-frown. "What are you doing here, Father?"
Rook gave a rare, warm smile. "Your grandfather asked me to oversee your training. Said Kael only has three years, and he needs to be strong enough to handle the gift waiting for him."
Selene's face darkened. "Gift? He's never given me a gift."
Rook chuckled. "He has something for you too, Selene. I've seen it. He'll give it to you when the time is right."
Selene hesitated, then looked away. "Fine. Let's train. Spar with me, Father."
Rook glanced at Kael. "Good to see you again, Kael. Ready to start?"
Kael blinked. "Again? Have we met?"
Rook smirked and conjured a porcelain mask into his hand - the same cracked mask from before.
"You're Rook."
"Correct. Now, down to business."
He crossed his arms. "Your body is too weak to handle your Stigmata. So we'll break it down and rebuild it from scratch."
Kael's eyes lit up. "Yes, sir!"
Rook smiled faintly. "Since you've never trained before, we'll start light:
100 laps around the arena. 100 squats. 100 push-ups. 100 burpees. 100 mountain climbers...
...and the list went on, including strikes, jumps, sprints, lifts, and stretches Kael had never even heard of.
"No rest," Rook concluded. "If you slow down, we start over."
Kael paled. "I don't even know what half of those are."
"You'll learn fast," Rook said. "And when you can do a thousand of each without stopping, we'll move to phase two."
Selene smirked with devilish glee.
"As for you," Rook turned to her, "200 of each. Then we spar."
Her smirk vanished. "But - "
"No buts. Move."
The training was brutal. Five hours later, Selene stumbled to the center, drenched in sweat and barely breathing.
"Ready... to spar..." she gasped.
She took a shaky step forward - then collapsed to her knees and vomited.
Rook crouched beside her, not unkindly. "You need to condition more. I know you're still young, but this is the only way. If it's too much, I can ask your old instructor to take over."
Selene looked up, face flushed with effort. "No. I'll do it. I'll follow your regimen to the letter."
She wiped her mouth and glanced around. "Where's that guy?"
Rook pointed toward the shadows. "Passed out after 20 pull-ups."
Selene chuckled, breathless. "Figures."