Chapter 54
The days flew by and training grew more intense.
Zion and I forced ourselves to keep our desires in check—something that became harder after the funeral.
We’d created a routine, and if there was anything in the world I loved, aside from Kiara, it was routine.
There was something comforting about waking up with a schedule, knowing exactly what came next.
When you’ve had a childhood full of uncertainty, routines as solid as mountains are something you learn to treasure.
Whenever we could, Zion and I had breakfast together.
Most days, I was already sitting at the counter waiting for him.
It was my favorite spot for us to connect, and that daily dose of affection seemed to make us more addicted to each other.
I liked the closeness. Serguei sometimes popped in mentally to say good morning and, like it or not, Zion was starting to get used to his father’s presence.
The two of them argued, butted heads, and contradicted each other at every encounter.
Some days I caught myself thinking Serguei picked fights just to have something to talk about with Zion—and somehow, that was progress.
My partner didn’t see it that way, though.
The more I watched them interact, the more I understood each of their personalities—and the more I noticed the similarities.
Zion seemed to try his hardest to be different from Serguei, and to do that, he often turned grumpy around his father.
But when Serguei wasn’t around, the playful, sarcastic side took over.
That’s when I saw Serguei in every feature: the crooked smile, the clever jokes, the way he drummed his fingers when nervous or worried.
It was strange and satisfying at once. Strange because I’d begun to admire my father-in-law, and satisfying because I knew that despite both of them hiding their enormous hearts from the world, they didn’t hide them from me.
It was a kind of bond I’d never had, and I quickly discovered that reciprocity was the best feeling in the world.
Within a month, I’d learned enough of the ten movements that Zion could increase his attack speed even more.
Our training had reached a new level of intensity, and I noticed my body reacting to his movements before the strike was even halfway there.
I knew he was holding back, but I felt proud just keeping up with the pace he set.
I still hadn’t won a single match, and the safe words kept changing at his whim, provoking me in every way.
Our days revolved around training—we took seriously what Serguei had said about preparing me for what the sonar predicted—but my main motivation was passing the test with a good grade, both to be freed from the agreement and to secure a position at the hospital.
During afternoon sessions, we continued with the obstacle course and weapons training.
For weapons, I stuck to bow and arrow, though some students preferred heavier options like swords, axes, spears, and shields.
I didn’t see the point—they were too heavy, outdated, and uncomfortable.
Each student had already registered their weapon type for the test. Breno and Aish would use daggers, a set of three.
Hiro and I chose the bow, which came with ten arrows, since we’d become excellent with it.
The advantage was range and the number of shots we could take.
The disadvantage was that arrows couldn’t cut, so if we killed an animal to eat, we’d have to figure out how to butcher it on our own—plus we couldn’t reuse arrows once they hit a target.
So we agreed to try finding each other during the test, since our chances of victory would be better together.
Even forming pairs would be a win, but that was difficult—the field was huge, and we could end up in opposite areas.
Hiro had the biggest advantage on his own, but from the way he looked at Aish, I knew his focus would be finding her during the course.
Not that she needed it—Aish was strong, smart, fast, and perfectly capable on her own.
The two of them kept exchanging sidelong glances; Hiro hadn’t given up, and Aish seemed increasingly irritated.
Breno, for his part, had ended his fling with an army captain and now seemed involved with a lieutenant much older than him—somewhere around four hundred years old.
Being the good friend I was, I started giving him grief about it, just like he did whenever he insinuated I had cobwebs between my legs.
During Friday fights, I was making progress against the other students—I’d already beaten more than half the class, which left Zion and Breno increasingly proud of my small victories. The only ones I still couldn’t beat were my three friends, plus Adrian and Ethan.
Adele was still recovering in the hospital, leaving her room in the psychiatric ward only for academy training, always accompanied by an Amperian hired to escort her.
Sometimes on visiting days, I spotted her younger sister wandering the corridors, always curious about the equipment and everything around her.
Lana, who to my surprise had the psychic gift, was a smaller version of Adele—the same features, the same gray-blue eyes—but with a calm, cheerful personality.
I wondered if Adele had ever been like that.
If that’s who she would have been, had she not suffered years of abuse.
I started buying chocolates and giving them to the little girl whenever I saw her in the corridor.
She wasn’t comfortable talking to me, but she accepted the chocolates and then ran off to her older sister’s room.
Adele had forbidden me from coming near her bed.
Soon autumn gave way to winter, and each day grew colder.
It was my least favorite season, and like Aish, I turned into a natural grump.
But even though I complained, it wasn’t as bad for me as it was for her.
Amperians were accustomed to high temperatures—programmed to withstand a three-day trek through scorching deserts without water or shade.
But the cold? That was their natural enemy.
Meanwhile, Naoki, Adele, and the other Yonserians in the class seemed perfectly relaxed, parading around in light clothing as if they were finally home for those three months.
Now there were only two weeks until the tests, and the city of Interion was already filling with foreigners for the grand opening event.
The streets were being decorated with lights and ancient paintings symbolizing the marks of the Gods.
Each God had their own color and specific runes, and people had begun decorating their doors with the symbols of whichever God they would ask for blessings.
The opening night of the tests coincided with Lúmiran.
As soon as the first snow touched the ground and the aurora borealis shone on the horizon, we would be presented to the Gods before the entire city in a parade of armies.
We had to choose a divinity to ask for blessing and protection during the test, and we would be painted with the colors that represented them: blue runes for the God of Intelligence, red for the Goddess of War, green for the God of Life, yellow for the Goddess of Love, and black for the Goddess of Death.
During the presentation, each student would cut their palm and let ten drops of blood fall into a bowl.
This blood would be mixed with paints and given to the student’s parents, partners, or guardians.
Afterward, each participant would be taken somewhere private to have their entire body painted with runes.
This part was more of a blessing ritual, a tradition steeped in meaning.
The person chosen to paint us had to be someone we loved, because love was essential that night—it was the bond that linked us to the spiritual realm.
That person’s feelings would bring the blessing of the Gods.
Serguei, Ambrose, and Zion all offered to be my family representative, but my choice was never in doubt.
I chose my partner without hesitation and now was simply waiting for the big day.