Inner Region of Agora.
The snowy mountains of Sierra where blizzards never stopped, threatening wildlife and obliterating anyone trying to fight against it. Its harsh terrain proving difficult even for most experienced trekkers, whose direction could not tell if its left or right.
But despite this, two people continued to traverse down the ranges, carrying sacks of dead game on their back.
"How much longer is it?"
"Be quiet. We're almost there."
Teeth chattered from the cold, his hands that held the bow shivered as he huffed down the mountain. The meager sack he carried will only be enough for three days' sustenance at most, maybe five if he rationed.
From the distance, a fortress gleamed in black stood tall at the precipice of the mountain. A young man waited by the gates, carrying a dead deer on his shoulder. The biting wind did not mask the scent of blood on him, overwhelming the man with a bow.
"Good heavens, how many did you kill? That smell can't come from that deer alone."
"I lost track of time and got lost in the mountains. I stumbled upon some wolves hunting me and killed them by chance. A pity I couldn't carry them back."
"Vihrea, what did you catch?"
Vihrea muttered a spell under her breathe as the gates opened. She adjusted the sack on her shoulder and said, "Foxes."
"Foxes? Multiple? How on Eos did you manage to see them?"
The chill dissipated once they stepped foot in the fortress. They made their way to the kitchen, where chefs and servants bustled about preparing for the upcoming dinner.
She shrugged and said, "What can I say, I have good eyes. Porte, can you give this to the head chef? I have somewhere else to be."
The petite young man who had managed to hunt only hares took the sack from her. "No problem. We'll drop this off to the kitchen. I'll see you for training later. Don't forget!" Porte yelled as they scurried off to the kitchen.
Vihrea nodded and went to another wing of the fortress. The obsidian sheen of the place also included the inside, giving the place a cold and gloomy atmosphere. But unlike the cold exterior, warmth filled the inside.
Agora had been standing for centuries as Lords came and went. Heroes were bygones and war had dwindled. The fortress, which now functioned more as a castle, had been reduced to training grounds for beginner knights and warriors.
Except for the occasional beasts invasions that were minimal at best, the continent had been at peace for the last three hundred years.
Reaching the sleeping quarters, Vihrea opened the door to her room and found her roommate immersed at her vanity.
"You're back quite early. No game?"
Vihrea sighed and removed her shoes by the bed. "Hardly. The winter seemed never ending. We had no choice but to turn back lest we freeze to death."
"Understood. Have you heard of the new instructor coming this spring?"
"You say instructor as if this is some kind of institution and we're students." Vihrea said while stretching her limbs.
Agora had turned into nothing more than a glorified institution that taught knights and warriors how to kill. She disdained the thought of these young men and woman who had never learned the hardships of life be taught techniques meant for war.
She, on the other hand, not such a big fan. But knowing her unknown origins and as an orphan with no backing, there were hardly other options to choose from. It had already been fortunate enough that she ended up here.
"As someone who grew up with an education yes we might as well be students in an institution. But never mind that. His name is Kapfem and he's a lower-ranking noble from Werdolf."
Vihrea's hands paused. "And what makes this man so intriguing you would bring him up during casual conversation, Fleur?"
"Because his background is interesting."
A former knight and suspected member of Oleander. Whether truth or hearsay, none could confirm. Fleur had her own suspicions of whether he had been invited by the Lord or simply came of his own accord.
Vihrea tilted her head and thought about it. The Lord of the castle gave her a new lease in life, but she had never heard that name from him before. Then again, they were not on such good terms with each other and neither treated each other with such familiarity to remember each other's friends and acquaintances.
But it did arouse her suspicion. An instructor out of the blue? Of course it was out of place.
She shook her head and said, "Too much speculation. We'll know more once spring comes. That's enough."
Fleur pouted. "You know sometimes I hate that you're not as invested in hearsay as much as I am. I'm telling you all these things most people would die to hear and you hardly care."
"Of course I care."
"Hardly!"
Vihrea sat up and said, "Let's not talk about that anymore. When was the last time you trained?"
"I refuse."
Despite this, Fleur had still been dragged out of the room to train with the person she hated training with the most. It was not as if she was not fit, but Vihrea's training was on another level.
She didn't hate herself enough to go through the kind of training that seemed more akin to self flagellation and penitence of a deeply religious person.
When the sun had set and both women were soaked in sweat, Fleur panted and said, "You are a monster. You and Kassis."
"Mhm."
Fleur shook her head. "You don't remember his face, do you?"
"Mhm."
"He might as well be your other half, minus the addiction to training and sparring. He's the one who's always holed up the Black Tower, lean body and handsome face?"
"I'm surprised you have more to say beyond his looks."
Fleur smiled. "Of course darling, I remember anyone who's a threat to you."
Vihrea furrowed her brows. "Why would you do that?"
"Of course I want to see if there's anyone around us who can beat you, with that godsforsaken talent of yours."
Talent, huh? Vihrea scoffed in her head. If only people actually knew the price to pay for this enviable talent of hers. Rolling in the mud, day in and out, never useful for anything else except her strength. She wanted to see if people could pay the price for that.
But she just shook her head and muttered, "Luck and hardwork is all it is."
In the east courtyard stood the Black Tower, a building for tempering the body to withstand pressure exuded by Soturis of each class. It was useful for beginners, but an inaccurate mimicry of real people.
After all, pressure did not match a Soturi's true strength.
A Soturi is a person blessed by Eos itself, represented by the number of rings around their hearts.
There is no limit to how many rings a person can possess, but through research and past knowledge, the known bottleneck was from a Zabiya in the 11th class.
Vihrea was in the fifth class, not that she think she ever deserves it, not when all those people only think it's because you're talented. But that's hypocritical and a lot worse if she said it aloud. People would only think she's bragging.
And who could bother explaining all of that?