Chapter 5: Elcarim's Training

Chapter 5: Elcarim's Training

In Aethel, life for the girls was a rigorous preparation for survival. They learned intricate martial arts not for mere defense, but for the hunt, their lithe bodies moving with practiced grace as they tracked game through the forests. Sword training was essential for protection and bringing down larger prey.

Their skills were honed for a purpose beyond simple fitness; they were the providers and protectors of their all-female society. Noal and Healnor, in stark contrast, endured a monotonous regimen focused solely on building raw strength and endurance. Their training felt devoid of the purpose and skill the girls’ activities embodied, often leaving them with a quiet sense of envy.

Their usual trainer, Clara, was away on a vital hunt, leading a group to secure supplies for the coming season. In her stead was a temporary instructor, a stern woman named Kaelen, known for her rigid adherence to tradition and an uncompromising approach. Kaelen’s methods were harsher, her expectations unyielding.

The training task remained the same: a grueling ten-kilometer run, followed by a hundred push-ups, a hundred squats, and a hundred pull-ups. Noal, his powerful young body responding well, completed the exercises, though with more strain under Kaelen’s watchful gaze. Healnor, however, faltered significantly. His frame, built more for agility than brute force, struggled with each repetition, his muscles trembling with exhaustion. He failed to meet the required numbers for both pull-ups and squats.

Kaelen’s voice was sharp and unforgiving. "Neither of you met the standard. The Elcarim must possess strength. Failure will be addressed."

As they walked away, Healnor’s frustration simmered. "A hundred of everything? This new trainer is relentless! Does she expect us to be made of stone?"

"I finished mine," Noal said quietly, a hint of pride mixed with concern for his brother.

Healnor shot him a weary look. "Easy for you to say, Noal. You're built like an ox."

Noal frowned. "But because you didn't finish, we both get punished. And knowing our luck," he added with a sigh, "I'll end up carrying most of your burden too."

Their punishment, under Kaelen’s strict command, was to haul water from the distant stream to fill two large storage tanks near the village entrance. Healnor’s struggles were immediately apparent, the weight of even a half-filled bucket straining his arms.

Noal, witnessing his brother’s difficulty, began carrying two buckets, his muscles protesting but his resolve firm. Healnor managed one small, unsteady bucket.

When Kaelen returned, her eyes scanned the nearly full tank beside Healnor and the significantly emptier one beside Noal. Her lips thinned.

"Noal," she stated, her voice like ice. "You clearly did not fulfill your duty." She produced a thin, stinging switch from her belt.

Before Healnor could plead for his brother, Kaelen struck Noal’s back 20 times, each lash leaving a red welt.

She turned and left without a word, her disapproval hanging heavy in the air. Healnor stood there, his heart pounding with guilt and anger.

"Why, Noal, why?" Healnor whispered, tears welling in his eyes as he gently touched his brother’s injured back.

Noal winced but tried to smile. "It's alright, Healnor. It stings, but it will pass. I couldn't just leave you to struggle alone."

"But… but now you're hurt because of me," Healnor choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't want you to suffer for my weakness."

"And I don't want you to feel weak, Healnor," Noal said, his voice firm despite the pain. He attempted a small flex of his bicep, then grimaced.

"Owww. Maybe no flexing for a bit."

Healnor gently supported Noal as they made their way to the secluded hot spring. The warm, mineral-rich water offered a small respite. Healnor carefully cleaned the welts on Noal’s back, applying a soothing balm made from local herbs. His touch was tender, his concern evident in every movement.

He wrapped clean bandages around Noal’s torso, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and guilt.

As Healnor finished, Noal, a mischievous glint in his eye despite his discomfort, splashed a handful of warm water towards Healnor. Healnor, ever cautious and aware of Noal’s injuries, could only sigh and shake his head, a small smile finally breaking through his worry.

The shared moment of levity, a brief defiance against the harshness of their training, reinforced the unspoken promise of their unwavering loyalty.

Chapter ending

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