The sound of spells being sent could be heard on the training field. It was a crisp, autumn morning, and the leaves were just beginning to turn all shades of gold, orange, and red. The cool air gently rustled the leaves that still clung to their branches, as the ones that couldn't gently floated toward the ground.
At least until the next burst of mana was felt.
Meliss wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, as her eyes darkened once more. She stared up at the swirling globe of mana high above her, and extended her metaphysical hand out towards it, watching the tendrils of golden mana embrace her like rays of a morning sun. She felt it wrap around her, warming her body in the Real through the cool breeze of the morning air.
She began to condense the mana into her off-hand, and ran it along the length of her training sword. The mana-flame coated the blade in a gentle, candle-like manner, casting some of its light on the sheen of sweat now coating her face.
Just like we practiced. Dash, pierce, and push, she thought, eyeing her target.
With one hand choked up on the guard, and the other gripping the pommel, she dashed forward with all the speed she could muster, feeling every fold of her jerkin and boots stretching out to accommodate her movements. The training dummy, approximately fifteen meters away from her, was being pulled left and right. Thorsen and Pyle had developed this kind of training together, and quickly found that it was a lot more difficult than it seemed to be.
As she approached her target, she let out a forceful grunt, exerting her energy once more to try to stab the target clean through. The tip of her sword sang through the air, as the mana-flame bent backwards with the force she generated. An almost whistling sound came from her sword, but stopped as soon as the tip pierced the target.
Instead of the target merely lighting on fire, Meliss pushed the entirety of her mana-flame into the target at once, forcing it to burst out into shards and splinters that covered the small corner of the training area. As they fell, she waved her hand in front of her face, trying to find a gap in the smoke to be able to breathe.
"Aaaaaand that makes twenty in a row! You're growing stronger, Meliss," Pyle said with genuine pride in his voice. Meliss, sheathing her sword, turned and walked towards him with a shrug. "I guess. I still don't think it's anywhere near enough, though," she said, her voice coming through more frustratedly than she would've liked to admit as she rubbed her ear.
She's still not used to her appearance, and is constantly comparing herself to the others around here, huh? Pyle thought, noticing her dejection.
"Meliss, I know how it seems, but there is something I would like to impart on you, if I may," he said in a gentle tone. "What might that be?" she asked, looking up at him. He chuckled softly, brushing a long strand of his white hair behind his ear as he bent to meet her eye. After a brief pause of the pair staring into each other's eyes, he flicked her forehead. "Ow! What was that for?" she asked. "Stop comparing your own progress to that of others," he said in a half scolding tone.
"What use is it to compare yourself to others, huh? The only thing that is going to do is give your brain more things to overthink about. Oh, how am I ever going to keep up with so-and-so? Oh, no, this person is so much better than me at this or that! No, child, this line of thinking is not the way you want to go about this," he began, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"There is knowledge you have that they don't, and there is knowledge they have that you don't. Experiences through life can and will vary greatly, this is true for all life on this continent. Regardless of your own inabilities and shortcomings, whatever they may be, you need to be patient and give yourself grace when you struggle to learn something many here took years to learn," he continued.
"It doesn't do you any good to worry about how far others have progressed. Be proud of what you have accomplished so far, and use others not as a tool for comparison, but as motivation to grow, instead; like they are a display of what can be achieved. Do you understand?" he asked in a tone full of patience and warmth.
He reminds me a bit of my mother, honestly, she thought, feeling her eyes beginning to water in frustration.
She nodded her agreement, sniffling and turning her head away for a moment. "Good, then how about we do a few more and move on to do something a little more exciting, yeah?" he asked, setting up another target before he had even gotten confirmation. As she continued her training, Pyle walked over to where the Master was observing a few of the senior synners conducting their training exercises alongside Roburn.
"Master," Pyle said from behind him. "Ah, Master Pyle. I was meaning to speak with you about something regarding Meliss," he said, wincing as he saw one of the seniors get tripped and slam into the ground harder than was originally intended. "Are you asking me for an update on her progress?" Pyle returned quickly.
Did the bastard read my thoughts? He wondered.
"No, but I've noticed you've been spending a lot of time with her since the removal of her earrings. Now, what seems to be the matter?" Taegin asked, turning to face his old friend. "Well, Master, she's been putting a lot of pressure on herself to catch up to the others," he said plaintively. "I see. It's only natural for someone like her to feel like that here. Comparison to others is a fickle thing, as we both know. But I do have to ask whether you're worried about her," Taegin said, lifting an eyebrow slightly.
Pyle shook his head. "I don't think there's much to worry about. If there is, there's nothing I or anyone else here can really do about it now that Thoma's up and fucked off, I mean," he answered with a shrug. The Master, now lifting the eyebrow even higher, scoffed and chuckled lightly. "Oh, to be young again," he sighed.
"In any case, I think we should have someone who at least knows Thoma well enough to help her through whatever it is she's struggling with," Pyle suggested. "I think you're right. Actually, I have just the person in mind," Taegin said thoughtfully, a wry grin showing on his face. "However, I'd like to speak with her first. Perhaps a second set of eyes will unveil something we otherwise might have missed," he continued. "Of course, Master. I look forward to your insight," Pyle said, dismissing himself and moving on towards Roburn's group.
After the day's training was completed, Taegin pulled Meliss into his study, and had her sit in the carved, wooden chair across from him. His hands were loosely on his lap, and his straight posture made him look a little taller than his usual, hunched over position. Meliss, kneading her hands out of nervousness, bounced her leg on the ball of her left foot.
"It's good to see you, Meliss. Thank you for accepting my invitation to talk," Taegin said warmly. "O-of course, Master. I'm just a little confused as to why I'm here," she replied nervously. "You have nothing to worry about, Meliss. I just have a few questions I'd like to ask you away from prying eyes and ears," he said nonchalantly.
By the Graces, is he trying to give me more anxiety? She thought.
"I understand that you're having some difficulty adjusting to your unsealed appearance, as well as during your training. I was wondering if you would like to shed some light on that with me. If not, I will respect your privacy, and will not push the subject any further," he said calmly. "Of course, Master. Might I speak freely, then?" she asked, using the conversational skills she'd picked up on in the Palace to their utmost advantage. "Naturally," he said without trying to show much emotion.
His tone suggests otherwise, she thought.