Harmonia Calendar 715, Thal 22 - Ashspire Estate, Elandor
Early Morning - Training Yard
Mist hung low over the yard, my feet sank into the cold sand, the sword heavy in the morning chill.
Master's breath smoked white as he spoke.
"Guard."
I raised the sword, both hands tight on the grip.
"Cut. Recover. Guard."
I stepped forward, swung, turned my hip, and let the sword run cut through the air. As the swing ended, I brought it back into guard, my feet settled firmly, my shoulders tight, my breath steady.
"Again."
I lifted the sword, feet light, hips driving the swing. The cut ran smoothly, cleaner than before.
The swordmaster's voice came sharp.
"Stop."
I froze and blinked, confused. My voice came out unsure.
"Did I—"
He cut me off as he stepped closer, eyes narrowing.
"Stand still."
I waited for him to speak, for his correction. Then it came, not words but heat, rippling through my chest like a spark. It pressed out from my center, pulled through my arms and legs, down to my fingertips and toes. My knees nearly folded, but I caught myself before I fell.
My voice thinned.
"What…what happened?"
His eyes widened, the usual composure vanished from his face, and his voice came low.
"At twelve..."
'Twelve? Why does that matter?'
He moved at once, boots sinking in the sand as he stepped toward the runner's bell. His voice was firm over his shoulder.
"Hold still."
The bell rang as he pulled.
Cling
The chime echoed across the yard. A servant came running.
The swordmaster barked orders at him.
"Go. Tell the lady. Tell anyone, the boy has awakened."
The word struck something inside me.
'Awakening...Awakening!"
I focused on my body again, on the heat. It wasn't pain, not exactly, more like pressure, a flood that finally found a channel.
The swordmaster stepped closer. His hand caught my wrist, and the touch brought my focus back. His voice came softer.
"Breathe slowly. Careful."
My fingers shook on his grip, but they still held the hilt steady. The heat climbed my spine, flooded my chest. White filled my vision for a heartbeat. Then...it settled as though a hand had pressed against my core and held it steady.
He loosened his grip, pried the sword from my hands, and stepped back.
"Breathe, boy."
I did. Breath in, breath out.
The heat settled, but it left exhaustion behind. My shoulders sagged, legs heavy, strength drained. I tried to steady myself, but my balance wavered, my feet swayed.
Step.
Step.
My focus shifted at the sound of footsteps drawing near.
Mother rushed into the yard, skirt caught in her hands. She threw her arms around me, pulling me into a warm embrace, emerald eyes wide with fear as they scanned every inch of me. Her voice came fast, out of breath.
"Are you hurt?"
I returned her hug, arms circling her. I shook my head.
"No, I'm alright, Mom…really."
She smiled, and relief flashed across her face. Her hands stayed firm on me as she turned to the swordmaster, her voice sharper, commanding.
"What happened?"
He bowed, voice firm.
"Awakening, my lady."
At first, her eyes flickered, and she looked from the swordmaster to me, disbelief widening her eyes. The connection struck a beat later, and her lips parted, voice rising with each word.
"Awakening...Awakening at twelve!"
I smiled, my voice came a little hoarse.
"Did I do well?"
Her laugh came loud, breaking on relief and amusement. She pulled me tighter, and her scent of lavender washed over me.
"You did."
I sank into her arms, letting the warmth of her hold steady me. I forgot the ache in my chest and the burn in my limbs.
Step.
I heard footsteps, then a shout.
"Adonisss!"
I glanced back over my shoulder, just as Theodora came running. She leapt onto my back, arms thrown tight around my neck, tears mixing with laughter. The force pushed me forward, and I fell on my knees. Mother's hands loosened, and she took a step back to give us space.
"Adonis, you did it!"
I turned and wrapped my arms around Theodora's waist, pulling her closer. Her hair brushed against my face, and our skin pressed together. Her scent filled my nose, light and flowery.
I pulled her even closer with a wide smile. My voice came loud.
"I did it, Dori!"
Her arms hugged my neck tighter, her short legs hooked behind my waist. Her cheek brushed mine, her lips touched my ear, softly, as she whispered.
"My hero."
The words rang inside me. Only then did I realize how close she was. Her lips, her scent.
'My cheeks flushed, I panicked. Too close.'
My saviour came with a clap that cut through the moment.
Clap
Clap. Clap. Clap.
The sound made her arms and legs loosen around me, the tight grip easing as I glanced over my shoulder.
Lucien stood a bit away, hands raised, a grin stretched across his face. His voice came proudly.
"Well done, brother!"
He whistled, raising his arms like it was a festival.
In the corner of my vision, a figure moved. I glanced up toward the balcony.
Above, Favian leaned against the railing. His red eyes were on me, cold. His face gave nothing. No cheer. No smile. Just silence.
My focus slipped as a tiny ache began to spread in my head. I pressed a hand to my skull and winced.
The swordmaster's voice came gentle for once.
"It's over. Enough for today. Go drink, eat, and rest."
I tried to speak, but the pain grew stronger, and I clutched my head.
"I can still—"
Mother's voice rose in panic. Her hands gripped my shoulder.
"Adonis!"
Theodora clung tighter.
"Don't scare me like that!"
Lucien stepped closer, his voice filled with worry.
"What's wrong with him?"
The swordmaster's tone was calm.
"Aftereffects. Nothing more. He'll recover with enough rest."
I forced another smile, weakly.
"I'm fine. It's okay."
Mother's eyes narrowed, and she spoke in an authoritative tone that allowed no notions of refusal.
"You will rest. No training."
I knew that tone and gave in.
"Yes, Mother."
Her eyes softened, a small smile flickering with satisfaction at my answer. Theodora's arms stayed around me, unwilling to let go, while Lucien turned on his heel to call the servants.
I lifted my gaze back to the balcony.
But Favian was already gone.
***
Early Morning - Anton's Study
The Swordmaster's report arrived before breakfast.
I unfolded the parchment and smoothed it flat across the desk. My eyes traced the lines as I read it.
[Awakened. Core stabilized. Recommended rest.]
My voice slipped out low.
"Awakening..."
I set the parchment aside, sliding it beside the stack of guest lists. The leather creaked under me as I leaned back in the chair.
Children awaken between fourteen and fifteen. That is the course of nature. The gifted awaken at thirteen.
But twelve?
At twelve, there is no training, no talent. That is fate itself.
'Father like son.'
The thought almost amused me.
'So the boy wasn't useless after all.'
With this, nobles of rank will take notice. A high match might be possible. And by chance… Grand Duke Valmontis's daughter had just turned twelve.
Fate had its way.
I took up a slip of paper and dipped the quill, my hand wrote in tidy strokes.
[Keep Adonis presentable.]
***
Noon - Training Chamber
The chamber was built from plain stone, its walls pressed close, meant for focus. The floor bore the marks of drills, scuffed lines, and gouges. Training dummies stood in a row along the wall, beside them leaned the weapon stand.
I stood in the center. The blade sang as it cut air, and the dummy shuddered beneath the blow.
But it wasn't the sound that rang in my head. It was their faces.
Mother's soft smile.
Lucien's proud look.
Theodora's bright cheer.
All of them, clapping for him.
For the bastard.
I changed my grip and drove the point into the dummy's chest. The wood cracked, splinters flew.
Again.
Again.
The wood shook with each strike.
'He's twelve and they're already calling him a prodigy. He remembers the names of kitchen girls, and they swoon. He stands like a servant, and they call it humility. Ridiculous.'
The sound of steps broke my thoughts. A servant waited at the gate, head bowed low.
"Lord Favian, the tailor asks for your measure."
My voice came flat.
"Then he should come and take it."
I drove the sword into the post, leaving it humming.
***
Noon - Garden
The garden was small but well-kept.
At its heart stood a springwell of white stone, its sides decorated with faded engravings. Water shimmered silver in the sunlight as it trickled softly down. A circle of marble tiles surrounded the well, from which flowerbeds spread in every direction. Bursts of purple, white, yellow, and red.
Tall trees ringed the garden, their leaves tinted red and orange instead of plain green. They stood like a painted wall, giving the place a quiet air of secrecy.
Tall trees rose in rows behind them, their leaves grew small colorful flowers. They stood tall like a wall around the garden, giving it a sense of privacy.
I sat on a stone bench by the springwell. This was my place. My refuge. I spent every break here, eating lunch, watching butterflies drift lazily through the air.
I closed my eyes, breathed in the scent of flowers, and listened to the soft trickle of water.
Step.
Footsteps broke the quiet.
My eyes opened, turning to the stone path.
Step.
And then he appeared.
'Young Master Adonis.'
He wore a plain black tunic, his black hair tousled, falling across his forehead. His steps were light, and his bright blue eyes scanned the garden until they found me. A smile spread across his lips.
He waved a hand.
"Sarah."
I looked away, heat rising up my neck.
'He's the only one who calls me by name. The others say "maid." My heart races every time he says it with that smile.'
He crossed over.
He crossed over and dropped onto the bench beside me. Legs stretched out lazily, head leaned back, eyes closing as he let out a heavy sigh.
"Haaah."
Too close. Closer than any boy had ever sat near me.
I shifted slightly, putting space between us. Silence fell again.
I glanced at him.
He sat spread out, eyes shut, almost sleeping. His lips still curved in that smile I liked.
But I grew annoyed.
'He barges in, steals my quiet, and now sits there without even speaking to me...'
I cleared my throat.
"Young Mast—"
His eyes opened, a smile tugging at his lips. He cut me off with a wave of his hand.
"Sarah. How many times must I say it? Don't call me 'master.' Just Adonis."
Heat rushed to my face. I turned away.
"But… if someone heard, it wouldn't look proper."
He chuckled softly.
"Sarah, look at me."
My head turned before I could stop it. His blue eyes caught mine.
"There's no need for titles between us. Or was I wrong to think we're friends?"
My mind blanked.
'Friends? A noble and a maid? Impossible. And yet…'
My heart pounded. My lips barely moved.
"A…Adonis."
His grin widened.
"Much better. Don't you think so, Sarah?"
He stretched my name, teasing, and I liked how he said it. I nodded faintly.
"Yes."
He leaned forward now, chin propped on his hand, eyes fixed on me as though nothing else in the garden existed. His voice carried a playful note.
"How is your work? I hope no one gave you trouble...or this young master here has to give some trouble to them."
My eyes met his. I loved it when he looked at me. It makes me feel…seen.
I chuckled as I spoke.
"No, nobody troubled me. But…"
His brows lifted.
"But?"
I took a breath.
"You know Elise, don't you? She works in the kitchen."
He gave a slight nod.
"She always brings me the kitchen linens to wash. Yesterday, she came while I was taking a break and got angry when I didn't jump up right away. I told her she could wait a moment, and guess what she said?"
His eyes widened in mock surprise.
"What did she say?"
I scowled at the memory.
"She said I should show her proper respect, since she's been here longer. But she's the same age as me. Then she said it wasn't right for a maid to receive help and to interact with you, that I should keep my distance."
Adonis's eyes sharpened. The warmth of his voice cooled.
"And why should it matter to them if I talk to you? Or if I help you?"
My breath caught. It wasn't anger exactly, but something raw flickered in him.
It felt good to see him like this.
He leaned closer, voice firm.
"Sarah. I help you because I want to. I talk to you because I like you. You can tell Elise that."
My eyes drifted toward his lips before I noticed it. When I did, the heat began to rise. I turned quickly toward the flowers.
"Yes, Adonis."
He nodded once and leaned back, gaze drifting to the flowerbeds.
We sat in silence, watching butterflies wander from flower to flower.
I found my courage after a moment, though my voice cracked.
"Adonis…don't you usually train at this hour?"
He glanced at me, then back ahead.
"Yes. But Mother ordered me to rest. After my awakening."
It took a moment before I realized what he had just said.
I froze, eyes wide.
"Awakening!? But...children only awaken at thirteen!"
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Normally, yes. Thirteen to fifteen. I was lucky."
Stories rose in my mind. Tales my father once told me.
"Awakening at twelve…I've heard stories. Heroes of past eras also awakened early. At twelve."
He gave a sharp laugh.
"A hero? Sarah, I was just lucky. I'm nowhere close to a hero."
My lips curved. A small smile spread at the thought.
"I didn't say you are one now…but maybe...you will be."
His eyes lingered on me, bright blue locked on amber. Then he looked away, voice low, almost a whisper.
"A hero…"