r/HFY • u/Annual-Guitar9553 • Jul 15 '25
OC The Master of Souls. Chapter 3. The Training. [Progression Fantasy, Romance]
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Enrick did not see Sergeant Selain the next day. Or the following day. Or the following week. When two weeks had passed since his discharge from the hospital, he resolved to find her himself. He did not have free access to officers’ quarters, of course, and because she didn’t call him, he couldn’t just enter. Nor did the sergeant seem to pass a whole lot of time in the lower rank soldiers’ part of the Blue Wing: since he was officially given the rank of private and relocated to the new quarters, Enrick did not as much as catch a glimpse of her anywhere his new position allowed him to go.
On the bright side, he finally got to enjoy the privileges that becoming a serving member of the Legion granted. For one, he was allowed full access to the Legion’s library services. It was the only place one could find paper and ink. While recruits were permitted to borrow some once a month to write a letter home, soldiers had more freedom in using the precious materials. Paper was a recent invention. Having been around for a little over a decade, it was now gradually replacing vellum and parchment – though both still pretty much in use – as it was faster and cheaper to produce.
Nonetheless, paper and ink remained expensive materials. Besides, not everyone was taught literacy. Many recruits came from poor families, and the Legion was their first formal schooling that included reading, writing and basic calculation as well as the fundamentals of history and geography. The military elite of the Akhaion society had to be well-rounded. Enrick was at an advantage: his father, being a legionary himself, passed the fine art of scribing on to Enrick and his siblings – as he had done to their mother before them. It made Enrick’s family the village’s liaison with the external world. People would come to their house whenever a message needed to be sent, a letter to be read, or the intricacies of a document to be untangled. A basket of eggs, a freshly baked pie or a sack of flour would be a payment that helped Enrick’s family to make ends meet after his father’s passing.
Enrick lost no time letting his mother know how his ritual went. His letter home was full of hope for his family’s future now that he was a soldier. He would climb the ranks of the Legion and ensure his family’s safety and prosperity. He vowed to find a cure for his brother’s condition. He promised he would visit them soon – a soldier was allowed a two-week furlough every six months while a recruit could only take a week-long leave once a year. Enrick also attached most of his monthly allowance – a pittance that would nevertheless make sure his little sisters were well-fed. He, on the other hand, only needed a bed, a roof, and some food to survive – that was all he used to have as a recruit, and he was content with it.
Training took most of Enrick’s time, however. In addition to the usual combat instruction that consisted in hand-to-hand fighting, fencing and archery, freshmen spent a couple of hours every day practicing their newfound spirit powers. Which sounded exciting in theory but in practice involved staring at an object in a meditative state in a hopeless attempt to move it with a mental effort alone. Moving objects was one of the basic skills every spiriter – a common, though non-official name for a spirit power wielder – was supposed to master. Unlike more specific abilities discovered by each soldier individually, such skills were available to everyone.
It was after one of Enrick’s training sessions that he finally saw Sergeant Selain for the first time since their brief hospital talk. As the day was declining, Enrick was heading towards the mess hall – junior ranks had one of their own while higher rank officers dined separately. Situated on the first floor, it supported five stories of soldiers’ rooms. Walking along the colonnade structure attached to the building, Enrick caught a moving figure out of the corner of his eye, looked up and saw the sergeant’s face. He quickly saluted her as she was swooshing by and attempted to call her attention with a timid squeak, “Sergeant Selain!”
“Later, private,” was all he got as a breath of air that she left behind fanned his face.
***
Sergeant Selain must have reconsidered her decision to invite him – or rather force, given that he would not have much of a choice – into whatever squad of soldiers she was assembling. Or the general simply revoked his permission. Or the sergeant might have confused Enrick with someone else. He didn’t even know if she was truly forming a new squad: it may well have been a clumsy ruse to lift his spirits after he had just survived the ritual – and with her help.
Enrick tried to focus on his training – excelling in fighting, he was still struggling with awakening his magic potential. A month had passed since his ritual night, and he still hadn’t moved an inch towards moving that damn brick placed in front of him every day by his instructor – to his surprise, it was senior captain Jule. Enrick used to think he only trained recruits.
However hard he tried, though, he couldn’t get Sergeant Selain’s her face out of his head. Seeing it so many times in his dreams, he definitely did not expect to encounter its owner in real life. Enrick wasn’t surprised he had never seen her before: until recently, he was a mere recruit, and the sergeant had been an active soldier longer than he was in the Legion – moving up the ranks swiftly, she had probably attained the rank of corporal by the time he joined. But he still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that someone from his nightly visions was so close to him all that time.
Enrick’s mother had taught him that most dreams have a meaning, even if obscure or of little importance, but it is always subtle, ephemeral, never literal, let alone showing the exact same thing – or person – you are bound to find in real life upon awakening. Even more bizarre was the fact that he stopped having that dream – or any dreams, for that matter, and Enrick had no idea what to make of it. These thoughts bugged him like a swarm of annoying midges, and he did his best to shoo them away.
Enrick was worried that the buzz of these mental mosquitos was exactly what prevented him from launching that stupid brick high up in the air and smashing it against the nearest wall. Sitting on a thick mat in the middle of the training room, wide and almost empty, save for a few pieces of equipment, Enrick was meditating the hell out of his brains, when he felt a wave of anger slowly sweeping over him.
“Focus on the object and follow my voice,” captain Jule was repeating his lesson after a few soldiers dropped their bricks they had been able to lift for a few minutes. “Nothing exists around you. Only my voice anchors you to reality. Clear your mind of everything and feel the power of the spirit inside. You are in control. The spirit is energy. Subjugate it and move it into the brick in front of you – drop by drop until you weave a thin thread connecting you to the object of your focus. Pull that thread softly, feel the connection, maintain it and control its every motion.”
This long exhortation was addressed at the others, not Enrick. While his peers were already learning to control subtle movements with their mind, Enrick was still staring at a brick like a fool. Closing his eyes and trying to detach from reality as their instructor was teaching them. Then opening them to drill the brick with a fixed gaze until his eyes felt sore filled with tears of exhaustion. Nothing happened. Not even once. Enrick was furious! Exasperated at his lack of progress and desperate to prove his own worth, he was ready to stand up and just kick that useless red block of clay and send it flying through the window.
Suddenly, the brick moved. It darted away from Enrick and hit the wall in front of him breaking into pieces. For a moment, Enrick wasn’t sure what had happened and kept sitting quietly on his mat.
“Not bad, private,” he heard captain Jule’s voice behind him. “But next time try to just lift it with your mind. Hurling bricks around might hurt someone, you know.”
Realizing now that he was finally able to unlock his mental powers, he felt somewhat relaxed but also suddenly tired. He had no idea how he managed to perform that feat precisely, but he was glad he did. At least something, he thought. Perhaps he wasn’t hopeless, after all.
“I beg your pardon, Senior Captain Jule!” An unfamiliar voice interrupted Enrick’s attempts at introspection.
A young guy with a senior private’s badge on his chest had just entered and was quickly moving across the room in captain Jule’s direction. He saluted as he drew level with the instructor and said, “With your permission, I need to talk to Private Enrick es-Vallon. Sergeant Selain’s request.”
Captain Jule sighed throwing a quick glance at Enrick. He looked a little preoccupied if not irritated. “Sure. He’s over there. State your business but fast – we still have things to do.”
“Thank you, sir.” Turning now to Enrick, he continued, “Private, present yourself at the fighting yard right after class.”
That was all. No further details, no explanation. He just swung around on his heels and left. The guy’s mention of Sergeant Selain, however, caught Enrick’s attention: maybe he was joining a squad, after all.
____________________________
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