The cleric smoothed the front of her yellow cassock and she slicked back an errant strand of silvering hair that had fallen into her face during the frenzied start to my morning training. She breathed deeply, controlled despite the flurry of action she had just taken to jump start the manifestation of powers that had laid dormant within me. The leather flail she had been using on me was set aside onto a table next to her observation chair as a warning what would happen if I let my focus falter and my power receded. I was not certain if she particularly saw it as a warning, to her it was probably just a reminder, a tool to help a wayward soul, I was quickly learning that she perceived my training situation, and perhaps life in general, very differently from me.

“On your feet.”

It was always the same. The first step of morning training was a physical and verbal assault to get my powers flowing, then I was expected to work on expanding and contracting them until she was satisfied on my progress or I collapsed with exhaustion. The former rarely occurred.

“Focus on drawing power and expanding your will.”

I was mildly surprised to find myself able to focus a bit more on the feeling of the magic coursing through the core of my body. Typically right after her encouragement I was in too much pain to focus on much else, but either she had taken it easy today or I was becoming accustomed. I would have bet my kingship that she didn’t take it easy on purpose. Her head was cocked slightly to the side and a small, satisfied smile ghosted across her lips, I wondered if she had realized I was in less pain then felt a small wave of panic as I realized that might mean she thought a round two was appropriate. To my relief, she instead sank into her chair and motioned for me to hurry up and get to work with one hand while resting the other on the handle of the flail.

Turning my consciousness inward, I reached down into my core to find it already humming and swirling, more active than in prior training days. The well where my power dwelled also felt more defined and solid, which was confusing since it simultaneously felt ethereal and immaterial, but I assumed it meant that something was strengthening, either the power or my ability to harness it. I sincerely hoped that I was beginning to get a grasp on it, perhaps that would mean that my training would become less brutal. I had been operating on the assumption that once I got more powerful and she was satisfied with my progress that her hand would become lighter, in a way it had been an effective motivator to work harder.

“Excuse me.”

A servant girl timidly stood at the door, her eyes wide with fear. Servants were expressly forbidden from interrupting my training and she wore on her face just how terrified she was that she had been sent to do so. Her eyes were trained firmly on the cleric like a small prey animal paralyzed with fear as a predator approached. Not wanting to be caught in the wrath, I kept focus best I could while still keeping my ear trained on what was happening.

“This better be very important or you’re going to regret this interruption for the rest of your life,” the trainer snarled, hand clenching the flail as she considered using it on the girl. I had to bite my tongue at what I considered to be an overreaction, she was just a small girl, probably a few years younger than myself. Obviously she had been sent with the idea that the woman would not be as cruel with a little girl, it appeared that the servants had not quite caught on to how vile she could be.

“I-” The girl was stuttering, her face flushing deeply as fear rose even higher choking the words before they could leave her lips.

“Spit it out.” She was threatening to rise to her feet and I briefly, though foolishly, wondered if there was anything I could do to protect the girl. I guessed that maybe for the shortest of moments I could distract her wrath and give the girl enough time to get her wits and run, though that was certain to reward my valor with a beating of a lifetime and the girl would only get a delayed sentence.

“A- A Miss… um… Miss Aela wishes to see you,” the girl managed to squeak out.

The annoyance on my trainers face did not vanish, but she did remove her hand from the flail and she nodded her head once. “Boy, go report to the priest and instruct him to guide your study until I return for you.”

Confused, but happy to get a break from training, I carefully backed off from focusing on my core and relaxed my body into a normal stance. I could feel the power push out against me, confused on the sudden change of plans, it almost ached from being swelled to a height then denied use. I did not think it was a separate entity from myself, but it did sometimes feel like it acted with its own needs and desires.

By the time my trainer had stood from her chair, the little girl had scurried away, perhaps hoping her face would be forgotten, though I highly doubted the cleric forgot any perceived slight against her authority. I bowed my head as I was expected to until she left the room, then I let out a long huff of air in relief. There was a tickle in the back of my mind as a very bad idea bubble into existence, she had forgotten her flail on the table, of all the different weapons she rotated through it was the one I hated the most. She had explained that she intended to use a variety of devices on me to unlock different parts of my potential, though I had made the mistake of being more vocally in pain the first time the damned weapon had been used and since it had become her tool of choice. Those kinds of actions made me wonder just how much she did was purely in the interest in my advancement and how much was for her enjoyment. I knew it was dangerous to have such thoughts and that it would be easier to just accept the idea that it was all of my benefit, but there was a doubt wedged deep into my mind that would not budge no matter how many times she explained to me how fortunate I was to have the Great Church look after me and to have her as a guide who understood my fate as walking the path of martyrdom. Perhaps it was true that this particular tool was just more effective for my training, I suppose I was making noticeable progress, though it just didn’t sit well with me. In either case, the rational side of my mind won out and I hurried along to go find the priest and left the flail sitting where it was.

I wasn’t exactly sure where the priest wandered to before our scheduled meeting time, but his private quarters seemed as good a guess as any. I had hoped that perhaps he was already out somewhere when I rapped on his door and then had an excuse to wander a bit more than I was typically allowed, but after a moment the door swung open and the priest greeted me with a confused smile that slowly dissolved into a look of unease.

“Yes, my child?” His eyes searched behind me up the hallway leading away from his room like he expected me to have been the bait to a trap.

“I was told to come have you begin my studies until I am fetched for training again,” I explained.

He looked at me a long moment, but then motioned for me to step into his quarters. It seemed strange to me that he would choose to have our session there, but any change of scenery was welcome, I rarely saw any of the castle anymore outside of the areas I was scheduled to be in. The inside of his room was less plain than I would have expected for a priest, though I didn’t exactly know where I had gotten that assumption from. Paintings depicting various recognizable scenes from various myths and legends hung on his walls, each looking fairly old, the style of many of them was not one that I had seen before. Most paintings in the castle were fairly realistic, but the ones in this room were more stylized while still trying to depict real events, faces were more exaggerated and gestures a bit more grandiose though I could tell they were still trying to convey an event that actually happened.

“Something interrupted your training?” His voice was worried, he wasn’t even trying to hide it.

“Someone requested they speak with my trainer,” I explained, “she didn’t seem happy about it, but went anyway.”

“Did you happen to catch a name?”

“I think it was Aela,” I answered.

The priest’s face went pale and he sat on the edge of his bed, looking at me with a serious expression. He did not speak, instead looked me over, the intense look on his face drawing more and more grim as the seconds ticked by.

“As I feared,” he said quietly.

“What have you feared?” I asked.

The priest took a deep breath in, then let it out slowly as if collecting his thoughts before speaking. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now what I say, my fate will be the same.” He chuckled like it was an dark joke. “Remember how I told you that some people use the facade of the Church to hide the darkness in their hearts?”

I nodded, there was no way I could forget such lesson, it had been counter to everything else I had been told.

“Good, never forget that. I believe you are currently a helpless lamb in the hands of lions, they will try to break and manipulate you for their own desires, not for the greater good as they should.” The priests face darkened and he stood and approached me, embracing me in a warm hug. “I doubt that I will see you again, but don’t be sad about that, I’m glad I’ve had this time with you to provide a little guidance and perhaps set things in motion to where you will not just be a mindless pawn.” He stepped back from me and gave me a wan smile, then ruffled my hair. “I remember you as the small babe that I had the honor of baptizing into the true goodness and light, please don’t let them snuff that from you.”

Before I could reply anything, the door to the priest’s room slammed open and I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, I was well accustomed to her aura of fury.

“Priest,” she spat out with contempt, “I need a word with you.”

Despite the fear that had been evident on his face a moment before, he now looked at her with defiance and calm. “As you wish, I am always glad to speak with a sister of the light. It’s been a pleasure, as always, Florin.” He glanced to me and gave me a sincere smile that conveyed his acceptance that it was his final goodbye.

“Boy, to the training room and wait for me, no questions,” she barked with barely contained rage.

Knowing better than to question or protest, I bowed and left the room, making it most of the way down the hallway before a screech of rage rose goosebumps down my spine. I kept walking despite the sounds of harsh thumps, the kind I knew far too well and I picked up the pace to try to escape the sound, though it seemed to follow me, taunting me until I was in a full run. Still the sounds did not fade and I could even hear the pained groans and gurgling coughs of the priest as the thumps became sickly wet sounding. The hallways were a blur as I ran trying to escape, begging my ears to fail and give me peace. Now in the training room with the door closed and far away from the priest’s room, I could hear what was happening still clear as if I had never left. I pressed my hands to my ears and hummed hoping to drown it out, but it did nothing to help, the sound felt like it coming from directly inside my head. Tears poured down my face as the gasps and cries of the priest cut off and the thumps became less frantic and finally stopped.