When bones and muscles are broken down they regrow stronger but what about the mind? If a mind was shattered would it be empowered by the experience? Or would it be forever broken? These were questions that I had never thought about before but over the two weeks of hellish agony I felt like small pieces of me were chipped away bit by bit.

It was maddening, my body was broken more times than I cared to count. Was any amount of strength worth this suffering? I couldn't feel myself improving at all, the strength of one's bones wasn't something that yielded upfront benefits. After each cycle, Olma would have to strike harder and harder just to shatter the newly strengthened bones again. Alternating between sleep and torture made me lose track of the days, time seemed to slow and stretch beyond what was natural.

"Heya little rose, guess what day it is!"

Ms Average's voice rang out interrupting the time I spent with the children. A part of me wanted to be struck dead where I stood. Even if I tried to run or hide, Olma was far too fast and strong to escape from, she didn't lie, I wasn't allowed to stop her insane training program. With a powerful fighter like her around, any plans to escape would be over before they started if she caught wind of them.

For now, I resigned myself to my fate and headed toward the door with my head hung low. To my surprise, It wasn't Olma that awaited me but an unknown woman, I wanted to think of her as chubby or pudgy but the more accurate term was grotesquely fat. She had long braided locks of greying brown hair and the fat on her face seemed to fill in her wrinkles making her look very slightly younger.

"Ah, this one is it? It's so hard to tell the rats apart Cleo dear."

Her speech was refined and precisely pronounced. Much like the others that I'd met, my first impressions of her weren't very high and as she spoke more my opinion only continued to drop.

"What the Mistress sees in this creature is beyond me, but I must make do. Do you not agree Cleo?"

Ms Average looked increasingly concerned,

"Hey Tubby cut it out, you know she likes this one. I'm not responsible if you get smacked around for those comments but don't drag me into it."

"And I'd receive my punishment gladly. My job is to make this rat into a passable lapdog and I shan't fail as I did with you."

These two talked as if I wasn't there and it irritated me,

"You must be the etiquette teacher. My name is Joan Briar."

Without skipping a beat the fat woman spoke,

"Ah, does my noble bearing give it away that easily? Look Cleo, she is already leaps and bounds above you. What does that make you then? Hmmm, what is less than a rat I wonder?"

Ms Average's face was flush with anger, she clenched and unclenched her fists a couple of times while breathing deeply to calm down.

"I, Ms Briar, am Lady Lissana. Now come along, I have a class to teach let us leave the worm and rats and join civilised peoples. One taste of life at the top and you will be hooked."

Ms Average was seething. I could tell that she wasn't far from completely losing it, I should've felt bad for her but I remembered how she made the kids quake in fear. I couldn't find any sympathy for her after she was so openly and unapologetically monstrous.

The fat woman took me through the same route as Olma, but she was far bossier about every aspect of the routine.

"No, no, no you barbarian! You must comb the soap into your hair. Here let me do it for you, long smooth strokes like this…

Green robes? I suppose that you intend to spit on the Mistress? No, all of her attendants must wear red robes. Green is for lesser peoples you should be glad to have such a privilege…

At least you've some sense of complementary colours, but lighten up that skin a shade with a base layer, it'll smooth out those imperfections too. There! Far better."

Everything about her annoyed me, the way she spoke to me, the way she bossed me around, and how little she cared for my opinions. Olma's honesty made her surprisingly reasonable as long as you didn't anger her, maybe I was judging the fat woman too soon. Maybe she was unexpectedly nice past all of the posturing.

Instead of being taken to the training hall, I was led down a different corridor, through the new doors was a large classroom that put the only one I knew to shame. Rows of sturdy desks and chairs filled the back half of the room while there was a raised section at the front that had a single desk. The front wall behind the desk appeared to be one massive blackboard.

There were about twenty other students and while most were decorated with various jewels and rings, there were a few that looked as out of place as me. The bejewelled ones wore blue robes and the others wore green but I alone wore the silky crimson robes, against my will.

"This is Joan Briar, she will be joining our lessons from this point forth. Ms Briar, pick an empty spot and be seated."

The fat woman smirked as she watched the students on crowded benches shoving each other to make room while others waved to catch my attention. If I was going to be seated anywhere I would prefer to be among the green robes. I started towards the back where a small group were chatting away but on my way, a green-clad woman around my age was kicked to the floor.

"Look no further, a spot just opened up!"

A redhead in baby blue robes stood up and wrapped her arm around my shoulder. As she pulled herself closer I felt something poking into my side and she whispered into my ear,

"Just follow me nice and easy and there won't be a problem. We can be good friends."

I wasn't sure what she was going on about but I wasn't about to give her what she wanted after that display of cruelty. I knocked her arm off and as I did I felt the pressure in my side get stronger for a brief moment. As I made my way toward the back of the class I noticed the horrified expressions on everyone's faces. Had I just brushed off someone important? Well, it was too late to care now, I'd just have to deal with the problems later.

I made it to the back and seated myself next to the now silent and pale-faced group of green robes. I knew something was wrong for sure when I looked at the fat woman and she beamed with a wide smile,

"An excellent display of power and pride! Looks aside, perhaps you have more promise than expected Ms Briar!"

I wondered what was going on until I noticed the bloodied hand and chisel that the spooked redhead held, a snail trail of blood led from her, right up to me. I reached down and felt my side where I had been poked and my hand came back bloodied. I didn't even register the pain and the sight of the blood didn't cause any panic within me, I just felt oddly confused for a moment as I stared at my bloody fingers. Was this why Olma seemed so emotionless, is this what Karkarin destruction did to your pain tolerance?

I turned my mind towards the steps of the Karkarin path: Destruction, Adaptation, Distillation, Ascension. That last step 'Ascension' intrigued me but Olma said that she was unable to reach that level and her distillation was considered sub-par. I wanted to know now more than ever, what power lay at the end of the path? The only issue was my lack of concern at the injury I'd sustained, would going further change my mind more drastically? But there was enough time for those thoughts later, the class seemed to be resuming.

The etiquette lessons were interesting? They covered useless things in great detail like the proper order to use cutlery and how to eat food to elicit a certain response from someone. At no point had it ever crossed my mind to eat my food in a way that made me seem confident, seductive or shy but my library-like brain stored it all anyway.

All of the useless fluff did allow me time to carefully inspect the room for weaknesses. There were four doors in the room: One at the back next to me, where the various foods on carts were brought in by chefs. A second to the right appeared to be some sort of closet filled with props. There was obviously the door I entered through and that only left an unknown door to the left of the fat woman's desk. I'd like to know what was behind that mystery door.