Chương 203: A Dream

I wasn't prone to dreams. Not back on Earth, and not since arriving here. But today was a rare exception. I walked through a field, cresting a foothill in the shadow of the mountains. It was springtime, and the grass was short. A trail of packed mud ran beneath my feet, still sticky from the recently melted snow. I approached a house on the hillside. It was a respectable house. Timber frame, shingled roof, cobblestone foundations. A porch circled the bottom.

A pair of horses were tied up to the porch's bollards, and young boys tended to them, silhouetted by the rising sun. They were far more familiar than a servant, or even a squire. I had no idea what it felt like to have a son, but this feeling of stewardship had to be it. I was certain. I glanced back as I crossed the fields. Burr trotted behind me without a lead, her pelt glossy as ever, saddle laden with a shield. The pattern on the shield's face was blurry. As I approached the house, the door swung open.

A woman stood in the doorway, candlelight turning her face dark. I couldn't tell who she was, and the closer I walked, the longer the distance seemed to grow. I tried to walk faster, pushing myself along the pathway, and when that didn't work, I mounted Burr, trying to use her to ride faster. It didn't work. The house was always the same distance away. My heart raced. I panted. The longer the dream went, the more I yearned. I couldn't explain the feeling. I wanted everything about that.

Peace, calm, happiness, a family. A world that I built for myself, with my own strength. How was I supposed to get that? I woke up with a start, flinging myself upright on my bed and casting off the bedsheets. The sun hadn't risen yet, and when I looked outside, there wasn't even a hint of light on the horizon. I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't. I stared up at the roof. What was this feeling? This longing? Was it Alis? I'd never felt a sense like that for anyone else. No one back on Earth. Not Fleda.

How stupid was I to think I could 'woo' a princess, though? Surely, her suitors were better than me in every other respect. I couldn't explain the feeling, and it slowly faded as I waited. But I couldn't fall back to sleep. After an hour of tossing and turning, I decided to craft my response to her letter. Croak still waited on the windowsill, hopping back and forth. I didn't need a candle, not with my Perception as high as it was. My eyesight worked perfectly fine in the dark.

And this way, I wouldn't wake up Brawl or Anchor. I wrote: Dear Alis, Your suggestion for a shield is excellent. I'll do my very best to translate the idea. I'll tell Hardric and Cuthward, and they will be able to make the adjustments. I'm sorry I don't have anything nearly as sentimental to say in return. I'm afraid I'm just not knowledgeable enough in writing letters. However, I am aware that your suitors will try to be suave and smooth and as romantic as possible.

Hopefully my letters have a certain casualness that you can appreciate. As for business, I'll make it quick. I received your letter late on the 29th, and I'm replying on the 30th. I'll meet Arnulf this evening. I suppose he likes to keep things secretive? Either way, it's probably for the best. If people see me with him, they'll assume I'm making a play for Hinlaw's position, won't they? Either way, I'll do my best to endear myself to him.

Since I doubt this will be the only meeting, is there any advice you can give me to help me convince him? As for your request: training has been hectic. I finished Vaelheall Week, and I really don't want to brag, but I'm surprised I lasted that long. If you found me two years ago and told me I would've been able to last the whole two weeks, I wouldn't have believed you. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

I elaborated on our most recent Labyrinth run, where we each faced our lava gorillas to test ourselves, before finally explaining the next phase of our training. I wrote to the end of the page, shook it to dry the ink, then flipped it over and continued writing. After I was done with the letter, I finished it with: I hope to see you again, Alis. I'm not sure when, but when my training is over, I'm thinking of trying to look for a placement up north. Hopefully, I'll see you again in person some day.

All the best, Levi I rolled up the letter, fed Croak a handful of dried fruit, then gave him the letter and sent him on his way. He launched up into the sky and took off. I watched him until he disappeared, turning into a black speck in front of Welkinmere's lilac glow. Then I set off to the stables. I'd get an early start with Burr, today. ~ ~ ~"The Drillmaster has informed me that yesterday's schedule is unsustainable," Moonhand began, standing firm in front of our group of spearmen.

"Thus, we will spend the morning drilling you on tactics. The afternoon, as promised, will go toward cultivating your mental attributes.

"That means we will have to work twice as hard in the mornings. I would ask if you are ready, but I do not particularly care about the answer. You will be ready." We began our training today with a set of basic spear exercises, practicing moving in formation and striking targets (which Moonhand conjured out of silver energy) as a unit. We could only hit what was directly in front of us. Our shields had to stay in the right position to guard the man beside us, protecting him from incoming blows.

Halfway through the morning, we switched to the same exercise that we'd finished with yesterday. Moonhand conjured a set of hovering shields and spears, and then he took a position in the ranks himself.

"The sapper is expected to be a strong point of any unit he takes part in," Moonhand said.

"Give orders, be decisive, and move your squad across the sand pit. Maneuver to best destroy your enemy with minimal losses." We continued. Again, with almost every exercise, Moonhand seemed to target me. He twirled his spear, navigating perfectly through our phalanx, before striking me with a palm or a fake spear. He'd call out, "You're dead, Sergeant," or, "Your squad has crumbled, and you've failed," or some other variation. No matter where I put my spear, he got past it.

I tried to move to intercept him, but it felt like I was moving reactively. It didn't help that, no matter how strong we were, holding up our gear for this long was bound to make our limbs ache after a time. Sweat leaked from my hairline, and my breaths drew thin. Right before lunch, he struck me especially hard in the chest, knocking me back to the sand and sending me crashing through a Dupe in our formation behind me.

"Not good enough, Levi," he stated.

"Sir, what can I do better?" I asked.

"Right now, you are holding yourself back." He stepped back and pointed his spear at all of us.

"I was promised a generation of heroes. But if the best of you cannot even defend against my attacks for a few seconds, what hope do the rest of you have?"

"Sir Levi may not be the best of us," a different Dupe said, and I grimaced at the comment.

"Habit says Yesman is far more deserving of the first place position." Moonhand only snorted.

"What about you? Do you think you could try your luck?"

"Perhaps." Moonhand motioned for the Dupe to attack, and he did. He rushed forward, shield out, whirling his spear. I didn't even see what happened. Moonhand whirled his weapon, something cracked, and the Dupe flew back across the sand pit, his shield splintered. I scowled. He could do that to the others, but he still insisted on trying to break me down in particular? What was his problem? Moonhand shook his head.

"All of you need more training." He knelt in front of me, and though he spoke to everyone, something about the way his green eyes dug into my forehead told me he was speaking to me in particular.

"You doubt too much."

"Sir?"

"You hesitate. You might fail your first jab, but instead of leaning into it, instead of letting your shield do the work, you doubt yourself and back away. How many times has this happened before? How cautious do you play it?"

"We're just soldiers, sir. Dupes. And at that, I'm a Soulstealer." Moonhand scoffed, then stood up and stepped back.

"Your souls were not manufactured. You are all unique in one way or another. Your body is a lump of flesh, but it's what's in your head that matters." He crossed his arm.

"I came here hoping to find great men. A soul makes a man great, no matter his body. Aelfwine had a crooked back. Yes, yes, I know it won't appear in any of your history classes, but it's true. I met him. When I was a young elfling, I trained alongside him. He didn't let that stop him."

"So you are immortal…"

"Somehow, it seems you already knew." I winced. After a short paused, I asked, "Sir, you really expect us to become…great?"

"That is up to you. All souls have the potential, but they must seek it out. You must choose to be great. You must stop doubting yourself and start acting. And once you stop doubting, you must start improving. You have a long way to climb yet."