Chapitre 62: Regularity - 2
[Atalante pov - A couple days ago]
A breath. One that took all my effort to take. Beaten into the ground as I was, my hands carrying my body. Just as my legs should have.
I felt a weight over my fingers, tapping with force. A groan of pain echoed from my mouth as she put pressure on that very hand.
"Must you be so harsh?" I breathed out. A fire within my mouth, the thin air, the harsh training. It all culminated in an air around me that would never let me become full.
A hand reached to my arm, another to my back. Peeling me from the ground and back onto my feet.
I turned and looked her way, feeling that intense gaze of hers. All as I did the same. Except mine was aimed at the ground. Embarrassment within my mind. For I had collapsed at such light work.
A mere eight hours of intense training and I had collapsed. Where was my stamina.
I took one more look at her visage. In remembrance of the way… the way that she handed me that letter.
The arrow it was shot upon. That same intense look within her eyes as she invited me to her class. One that could be called nothing more than exclusive.
Unorthodox was the nicest way to put what she taught. She had seen my nimbleness. How and the ways in which I fought, the speed of my disengagement. Found it to be intriguing. Along with a few others. We were dragged here to learn from her.
As I was the only new one she gave me a one on one. Pushing me into the ground as she gave me a bow.
"Of course. Your talent lies in your feet. Your speed, that means that you must be fast… must be accurate, if you are none of those you will die."
I groaned and picked up the bow that she had given me. Knocking an arrow on it as I let it go. I already knew how to aim and release. The only problem was that I was not accurate nor was I precise.
Every now and then I could hit the target. But that was random luck. My stubbornness would not allow me to be so mediocre. And so, as she taught me with vigor, shooting down each and every step that I took.
I found myself improving. Despite the harsh conditions. Once our teachings ended. Our one on one. She turned her back and gave a general lesson. Expecting, me of all people, to do my own training.
"By three days from now, there should be no deviation in your arrows. Let them fly true and accurate to that target. Remember what you were taught."
With that she left. My feet constantly shifting, so too was my stance. Trying this way and that to correct my posture. Correct my aim. No matter how horrendous it was.
…
I stood there for hours, committing to memory what had worked and what had not. The times that I had hit the target. What I had done right and what I had done wrong.
And when my feet could no longer support my weight. After constantly shifting from here and around the target to pick up each and every arrow I wasted.
It made me jealous of those that could hit the target with terrific accuracy. They had to stride over there once and take their arrows.
Me on the other hand, I had to go search for them lest I be forced to make my own. It was a warning from one of my seniors. Apparently she had experienced the same thing.
Another part of my mind was whispering… asking why she had been so helpful when the others had not. When they all scowled at me and went back to their practice. Aura flaring through their respective weapons and cutting through whatever it was that they practiced.
It seemed like she, my teacher, was quite the weapon master. As she was able to teach each and every weapon she saw fit to give to her students.
Or maybe she just picked and chose. Either way it was impressive. Quite impressive of her.
"Here. Drink this." One of the seniors, the same that had given me that advice, brought a cup of water to me.
"It's not much but it will help."
I sighed, devouring the water. Not even thinking of the consequences. But afterwords I found her smirking.
"Thank you."
…
The next thing I knew… I was not outside. I was within the cabin. She had… she had drugged me. The bitch.
I struggled against invisible restraints only to fall off the bed as there were none. Surprise in my eyes.
"Surprised?" She giggled.
"Of course, if you were going to kidnap someone… it is only common courtesy to tie them up."
She giggled once more.
"I have no need of that."
I scowled. She was right. I stood no chance against her. Especially with how weakened my muscles were right now.
I sighed letting the scowl fade from my face.
"What is it, what do you want?"
"Nothing much… just a small favor."
…
It was in the back of my mind… for each and every one of those three days. As I improved here and there. My stance set within my mind.
I let loose another arrow. Absently watching it fly. And when it hit the target, right where I wanted it to… I let loose another. Making sure that it was close to the first.
But it went off to the side a bit more than I wanted it to.
"Tsk…" I echoed out. Letting my disappointment be known.
"You did good… better than those three… they took a year before they were at all comfortable with their weapon."
She praised me, and my efforts too. But as she did so. I couldn't help but notice the pair of eyes that screamed at me. The intensity within them was something that even I could not match.
Whatever this favor was. It was truly something important to her.
She would tell me at the end of this little trip. As we headed back and prepared for the next essential lesson. It was there where we would see the results and progress of our training against those that had no personal training and those that had.
I scowled for a moment. Then… when we were to leave. I let that scowl fade. Charlotte, her sword at her waist, let her hair down. Golden green. The same as Gabriel.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone