Training in the Nest was not just about muscles; it was about the mind. While the other boys spent their energy trying to be the strongest, Kaelen focused on being the most efficient. He had the advantage of a fifty-year-old's understanding of anatomy.
He knew where the liver sat, how the carotid artery pulsed, and how a small amount of pressure on the vagus nerve could drop a man like a stone.
"You move like an old soul," Lyra remarked one afternoon as they hung by their ankles from a stone beam. This was a 'stamina' exercise. The blood rushed to Kaelen's head, making his vision throb.
"I just don't like wasting movement," Kaelen grunted. "Energy is life."
Master Vane walked beneath them, carrying a thin willow switch. He struck anyone whose body swayed. "In the dark, your target will not wait for you to find your balance. You must be balance itself."
Vane stopped under Kaelen. "You. Show me a killing strike from this position."
Kaelen didn't hesitate. He swung his body with a core strength that surprised even himself, his small hand flashing out to mimic a throat-slit on an imaginary foe. Vane's eyes narrowed. The boy hadn't just swung; he had used the momentum of his own weight to increase the speed.
"Good," Vane whispered. "But the Veil is not just physical. Tonight, we see if your spirits are as tough as your skin."