Chapter 141: Chapter 141: First Training
The living area was cast in the soft, warm glow of the house’s evening lights, a quiet sanctuary after a day of chaos.
Ysmeine was curled up on the plush sofa, a data-slate hovering in the air before her, its cool light reflecting in her smoky green eyes. The rich, floral scent of her perfume mixed with the clean pure air, created a fragrance that was uniquely home.
She was looking at a message from Athea, about how apparently, someone new was in on the secret about Zaeryn’s existence, and it just brought a frown to her face.
The circle kept on growing, and she didn’t know when it was going to stop before he got in trouble because of that. But the good news was that according to Athea, she had taken care of it.
Just then, Zaeryn appeared on the top of the stairs, and the frown lines etched by Athea’s message smoothed away instantly. She immediately navigated from the message and pretended like she was looking at something else through the media.
"Alright, I’m ready." Zaeryn said. Having changed out of his academy uniform into some casual wear.
"Good. I want you to start from the beginning to the end." She gave him a smile.
Zaeryn didn’t walk down the stairs: he practically bounced, his steps hurried. The faster he finished this, the faster he would go to sleep and the faster tomorrow would come so that he can go to the academy for his second day.
He didn’t bother with the empty cushions. Instead, he collapsed onto the sofa beside her and, out of familiar habit, rested his head directly in her lap. "Long day," he mumbled into the soft fabric of her dress.
Ysmeine’s smile was instantaneous and warm.
She dismissed the data-slate with a wave of her hand, and her fingers immediately found his hair, scratching his scalp in that absent-minded way that always made him feel grounded. "So I heard," she purred, her voice a low, comforting melody. "Detention on your first day, Zaeryn? You really can’t stop attracting attention can you?"
He tilted his head back, grinning up at her. "It’s not my fault Professor Jade has a thing against ’disruptive variables.’ Apparently, my charming personality is a threat to her academic environment."
"I’m sure it is," Ysmeine chuckled, her fingers gently massaging his temples.
Normally, these evenings were sacred. She’d ask questions, he’d draw out every detail with theatrical flair, savoring the retelling as much as the day itself. They’d laugh. The house would settle around them. Time would stretch and soften until neither of them wanted it to end.
But tonight was different.
"And the spar?" she asked. "Lysara said you fought one of the top prospects. Are you alright? She didn’t hurt you, did she?"
"No she didn’t. I actually think I held my own against her." he said. Then he continued, "Although, she is a bit out of my level for now, but I’m sure I can beat her with some training...."
"I know you can. Just, don’t try to make enemies with everyone, okay."
"Got it. And you don’t need to worry about that. I’m honestly more of a lover first. Making enemies is so much work. It’s far more rewarding to make them fans, don’t you think?" he finished, a roguish grin spreading across his face.
Ysmeine let out a laugh, the sound of a warm melody in the quiet room. "Oh, darling, only you would see a potential rival as a networking opportunity." Her fingers continued their gentle massage, a silent, loving anchor.
"Exactly! And it’s already working," he continued, the words tumbling over each other in a rush of pure adrenaline. "I made a couple of friends. Jyn and Yuna. They’re... surprisingly normal."
"Of course they are," Ysmeine murmured, a knowing, almost possessive smile touching her lips. "I’m sure half the academy is already secretly a fan. You just have that effect."
Then, just as suddenly, he was pushing himself up from her lap. "I should go, I need to go to sleep early and get maximum sleep. Can’t be at the top of the combat classes if I’m sleep-deprived."
"Of course, honey." She gave him a quick, affectionate kiss that was more comfort than passion.
"I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?" He was already halfway to the stairs.
"Sleep well, darling," she called after him, a fond smile lingering on her lips.
"You too!" His voice echoed from the stairwell, still bright with that maddening, irrepressible energy.
The house settled into silence.
Ysmeine remained on the sofa, her hand still resting where his head had been moments ago. She shook her head slowly. That boy.
Lysara’s report had detailed the whispers, the glares, the open hostility he’d faced. Normally, it should have affected him. But if it did, he never let it show.
He had this infuriating, beautiful ability to find wonder in things that would crush someone else. To see the academy not as a place that tolerated him, but as a place full of possibilities he hadn’t discovered yet.
The sheer resilience of him, the way he could walk through a firestorm of prejudice and come out not just unscathed, but energized, it filled her with a warmth that settled deep in her chest.
Her smile disappeared as her thoughts drifted, inevitably, to the woman who was missing all of this. The woman who received data files instead of messy, excited retellings. The woman who chose a crown over these quiet, perfect moments.
Remembering Athea, Ysmeine’s smile was no longer there, and she sighed, the sound heavy in the sudden quiet of the house. The data-slate still hovered nearby, forgotten, its cool light casting pale shadows across the empty sofa.
___
The pre-dawn light of Sector Seven was a soft, bruised purple, casting the world in shades of gray and silver. The air was cool and still, holding the faint, electric hum of a city that never truly slept.
Tangled in sheets and deep in a dreamless sleep, Zaeryn was dead to the world. Then, a sharp, impatient rapping echoed from his door, cutting through the silence.
He groaned, burying his face deeper into the pillow. ’Go away,’ his sleep-addled brain mumbled. The knocking came again, louder this time, insistent.
"Ugh, fine," he grumbled to the empty room, rolling onto his back. He squinted at the chrono-display on his wall. 05:05. Who in the hell...? It couldn’t be Ysmeine; she never woke him this early. Aeris or Ravena? Maybe, if they were feeling particularly cruel.
With a final, put-upon sigh, he threw the sheets back and stumbled to the door, the cool floor a shock against his bare feet. He slid it open, ready to unleash a wave of sarcastic fury.
Standing in the dim hallway was Mireille.
"Uh, Mireille?"
"Yes, me," she said, a single eyebrow arching as she took in his sleep-tousled hair and shirtless state. A faint twitch at the corner of her lips was the only sign of her amusement. "You’re a deep sleeper. I’ve been standing here for five minutes. Doesn’t your AI announce visitors? I had to pound on your door to finally wake you."
Zaeryn scratched the back of his neck, suddenly very aware that if he’d gone through with his usual plan to be impulsive and snap at whoever was outside, he would’ve just snapped at Mireille and not Ravena or Aeris.
"Sorry about that," he said. "Didn’t realize. And no, I don’t have an AI in my room. I like my privacy."
Mireille’s gaze traveled beyond his face then, her professional mask seeming to slip for a fraction of a second. Her icy blue eyes took in the defined lines of his chest and shoulders before snapping back to his face, her expression unreadable once more.
"It’s time for your first training session, as we agreed."
"Sure, I...." He looked over at himself realizing he had to get some clothes suitable for training. "Can I get dressed? I’m wearing...."
She simply gave him a nod and strode away, her boots silent on the polished floor. "Find me on the patio."
Zaeryn watched her go, then closed the door, a slow grin spreading across his face. The last vestiges of sleep vanished, replaced by a surge of adrenaline that sharpened his focus.
This was it. He moved to his wardrobe, pulling on a black training shirt and pants. The fabric was light, cool against his skin. He thought of the academy, of the simmering resentment and grudging curiosity in the eyes of his classmates.
This training wasn’t just about control; it was about survival. It was about proving he belonged. ’Imagine going to the academy with some new moves,’ he thought, a thrill of anticipation shooting through him. ’Leia won’t stand a chance.’
When he was dressed, Zaeryn went to the patio.
Mireille was already there, a silhouette of disciplined stillness against the glowing hydro-therapy pool. Steam rose in lazy curls from the water’s surface, mingling with the cool morning air. She wore a sleek, black training uniform that hugged her athletic frame, her silver braid a stark line against the dark fabric.
Arya was seated in one of the lounge chairs, sipping a steaming mug, her lips curving into a warm smile when she saw Zaeryn. "Morning, Zaeryn."
"Oh, Arya. Are you going to train me too?"
Arya laughed, a light, clear sound. "No. I’m not sure I can teach you anything Mireille can’t, but I want to watch."
"Want to watch me get completely bested by Mireille huh?"
"You bet."
Mireille turned as he approached, her icy blue eyes assessing him with a look that was all business. "You’re on time," she stated, her voice flat. "That’s a start."
"I aim to please," Zaeryn replied, stretching his arms over his head.
Mireille’s lips twitched, the barest hint of a smirk. "Today, you will aim to survive. Your little stunt in the pool yesterday was reckless." Her gaze was unyielding. "Kinetic Acceleration is not a toy. It draws directly from your core, and without control, it will tear your muscles to shreds or send you through a wall. Today, you will learn the first principle of Vitae."
Zaeryn looked at the dark metal band on his wrist, the smooth obsidian stone seeming to absorb the pre-dawn light. The Vitae Harmonizer Sage had created for him. "Well, lucky for me," he said, meeting Mireille’s stern gaze with a confident grin, "I don’t have to worry about overexertion, because I have this."
"What is it?" Arya asked from her chair, leaning forward with genuine curiosity.
"It’s a Vitae Harmonizer." He responded, "It helps me regulate my core so I can train without the risk of overexertion."
Mireille’s eyes narrowed, her professional skepticism kicking in. "That’s advanced tech, far beyond standard academy issue. Let’s see if it works as advertised."