Book 3: Chapter 18 - Grit, Determination, and Blunt Force Trauma

Callings are not balanced like classes in a game.
There is no thumb on the scales, and no care put into keeping the world fair.

Some callings are simply better than others.
They grow faster. They have more useful talents.
They don’t force you to cut holes in all your shirts.

The world isn’t fair, and neither are the magic powers we got with the end of the world.

Just try to be grateful if your calling doesn’t need pain to grow.
—Virgil Clay, Lecture

Kiera was actually having a good time with Aubrey and Koral. As far as she could tell, the two made an excellent couple. They seemed to genuinely like spending time around each other. More importantly, they obviously shared a level of trust most people never had. Neither made this explicitly clear. Not in front of Kiera, anyway. But the fox could tell.

It was little things, really. Aubrey didn't mind being touched by Koral. Not in an intimate way, but in more casual interactions. Like putting a hand on the banshee's shoulder to get her attention. Aubrey had never complained about that, to be fair. But she'd tensed a little on contact. It was subtle, but noticeable. And it was even more obvious when she didn't react to Koral the same way. It was a bit like the feeling of a subtle vibration. Easy to miss, and obvious when it was suddenly absent.

It was undeniable that Aubrey trusted her girlfriend. Kiera wanted to be happy for her friend, especially considering the banshee's past. At least what Kiera understood of it, anyway. If it weren't for Violet’s talent, Kiera would’ve been happy about the relationship. 

But she knew it wasn't real. Koral was harder to read than Aubrey, of course. Kiera didn't know the girl as well, and she wasn't sure it would help if she did. Koral was extremely careful with her words. Always guarded and intentional in everything she said. That hadn't bothered Kiera at first, but now she wondered if it was a red flag. Surely it shouldn't have been so difficult to carry on a conversation if she wasn't hiding something?

It didn't help that the girl was, well. A bit full of herself. Kiera had met worse, but Aubrey's girlfriend did have a tendency to brag, given the opportunity. This also wasn't necessarily a deal breaker, but it could be annoying at times. And again. The context Violet had provided pushed the habit into more insidious territory.

“I have a lot of practice with breathing exercises, and I've got extremely efficient clarity control. I can show you some tricks,” Koral suggested. 

And there it was again. Koral had the lowest category of the three, yet she seemed eager to provide advice and guidance. It did irk Kiera a bit, even when it was Aubrey receiving the advice.

“Although I don't have any talents quite as impressive as yours, so it may not work as well,” Koral added after a brief pause. This seemed to be a pattern. Koral would talk herself up, think about it for a moment, then offer calculated praise a few seconds later. Kiera couldn't tell if it was some level of self-awareness or if it was manipulative. But considering what Violet had seen, it was almost definitely the latter.

The three had reserved an orange training room on campus, with Koral's presence offering a training target for Aubrey. Kiera and Aubrey wore their PT clothes, while Koral demonstrated the benefits of hiring a tailor. The uniform really did look better on her than anyone else.

Briefly, something about that thought tickled the back of Kiera’s mind. But the fox drowned it in illusions before it could distract her from the task at hand.

“Let me try again,” Aubrey demanded. “I think I almost had it that time.”

Kiera flicked both of her tails as she imagined denying the request. Having two was annoying as hell, and she was essentially forced to stand as long as Aubrey was training. After practical training days in class, too, which felt particularly grueling. She declined to complain, however, seeing as Aubrey was burning through all of her own clarity every single day. It had been a long week, but the banshee claimed she was improving. And Kiera had to admit, she admired the dedication. The motivation was primarily to not die, which was fair. But even so, Aubrey was working hard. 

“Sure thing, just let me get a drink of water real quick. You should, too, actually. All the screaming must be wearing on you by now,” Kiera suggested. She walked to the side of the room where her water bottle sat on a table. She unscrewed the top even as Aubrey refused the suggestion.

“It’s fine. I get more clarity this way,” Aubrey insisted.

“I’d prefer you didn’t hurt yourself,” Koral tried. Her habit of slow, calm speech seemed to actually help. Although Kiera didn’t think that had been the intent. She really couldn’t get a read on Koral. 

“That’s why I need to reach orange,” Aubrey insisted. “I am not going into a yellow nest at my current category, and we leave in two days. I have to keep pushing.”

Koral pouted but nodded. Kiera shrugged, then took a drink. The water had turned warm, which was annoying. But she was tired enough that it was still refreshing. “Alright, well, I’m ready if you are. You want to try Scream or Danger Sense?” They’d been working with both talents, just to be sure. Scream seemed to help more, in regard to growing her calling. But Aubrey didn’t like using it in such an enclosed space. Not since Stephanie’s death, and especially not with her girlfriend in the room. Training with Scream involved a sound illusion that Aubrey had to overpower. Training Danger Sense involved a visual and a sound illusion. Kiera liked that one better because she got to attack Aubrey while transformed as a fox. 

“Scream. I can’t waste time anymore,” Aubrey answered immediately.

“Fair enough,” Kiera agreed. “You cool with that, Koral?” The other girl’s role was primarily just to listen for the scream in question. If she could hear it, even a little, then Aubrey was making herself heard. That would feed her calling. This was also why Koral was there at all. Kiera had suggested getting Kassie’s help, but Koral had insisted she’d be more reliable. And that she’d be more dedicated to Aubrey’s success, which was probably true. That, and Aubrey apparently wanted to spend time around the girl she liked? What a weirdo.

“I’m ready!” Koral agreed with a thumbs-up. 

“Alright, turn around, please,” Kiera ordered. Aubrey sighed, then turned and faced the far wall. A necessary precaution to protect Kiera and Koral. The illusion of silence wasn’t real, and a direct hit from Aubrey's Scream could’ve been dangerous. As soon as Aubrey was obviously ready, Kiera started weaving her illusion. Aubrey’s half of the room went dead silent, and Kiera sent a flash of light to let the banshee know she was ready.

And so they continued. Pushing, and pushing, and pushing. Kiera’s red tail actually started to lose opacity as her own clarity was being used up. She was exhausted. Aubrey was exhausted. Even Koral was obviously ready to leave. But they pushed themselves, because this mattered.

Until finally, hours later, the room was suddenly filled with a loud, almost impossibly shrill screech. 

Kiera and Koral paused, both staring at the exhausted girl in the center of the room. Neither had expected the talent to break through all at once, and the surprise was obvious on their faces. Enough that Aubrey didn’t even have to check if she’d managed it. She looked over her shoulder, saw the response, and put her hand on the ground to read her attributes. Finally, Aubrey had hit Category Orange.

“It’s fine. I... I can handle it.” That had been Guy’s promise. Every day, before training started. He repeated those words like a mantra.

Violet watched Guy with Fatal Flaws active. She’d been sparing with the talent at first, since she didn’t want him catching her using it. But his Gargoyle talent had a major benefit. Not for him, maybe, but from Violet’s perspective. The boy couldn’t move while it was active. As such, so long as she stayed out of his line of sight, she could keep her own talent active the entire time.

Which was much to his benefit, even if he didn’t realize it. His cowardice and fear were obvious, of course. She didn’t need her talent to tell her that. But it also revealed the weaknesses in his physical armor. This would be useful for breaking him. In this case, however, it was more helpful in avoiding any permanent damage. She knew exactly how hard and how often to hit his armor without doing any serious damage. She knew his exact limits, and she could see when they changed. It made her the perfect trainer for him. And she would make him an acceptable partner for her friend.

She hit him again, this time directly between the shoulder blades. The orange crystal of the bat in her hands cracked the red of his skin. But it didn’t break. So she swung at the arm covering his head, and again left only a crack. 

“I really am sorry about this,” she lied. “You understand, don’t you?”

She couldn’t even make out his organic body anymore. The crystal was running so deep into his skin. He was crouched in a defensive position on the orange floor, and he had no way to answer. She hit him in the ribcage, causing another spiderweb to draw itself along his side.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt out there. And I want to protect you, but I can’t do that if you’re not ready,” she continued.

The bat ran into his lower back. Violet had said all of this to him before. Every day, she reassured him. Before every hit, she reminded him why he was there. He was having a much harder time with this rushed training than Aubrey was, but he needed it more, and he knew that. It just so happened that it also hurt him more. Violet idly wondered how he’d even made it so far through Category Red. Before enlisting in the lancers, at least. If he grew by withstanding pain and injury, that meant he’d experienced a significant amount before she’d met him. She knew that, of course. Like her, he had visible scars. And like her, he claimed clarity wouldn’t heal them. That was surprising, considering how frightened he was of risking pain.

“I’ve been through worse,” he continued to insist. Whenever they took a break, and he had the breath to speak. Every time Violet feigned concern. Every guilty look she gave him, and every hint that she worried she was pushing him too hard. “I’ve been through worse. Please. Keep helping me. I can take it, I swear.”

Then again, he was doing this willingly. He could face his fears. He was just... unacceptably slow to do so when it mattered. That wasn’t something she could train here. But if she got him to orange, she could push him to competence when they entered the mist. There was some hope for him, at least. 

“Kiera really trusts you. She really admires you. And she is going to rely on you out there. You know she will. You know she doesn’t understand. She is going to trust you and assume her back is safe, and she is going to get hurt. Staying out of the way won’t be enough. You need to try and be the man she thinks you are,” Violet lectured.

She punctuated each word with another strike, and another crack in his armor. 

“I care about you, Guy. But I care about her more. And more than either of you? I care about fulfilling my role as a good leader. We are going to the most dangerous place any of us has ever seen. And every single one of us is coming home safe. Do you hear me? All of us. You. Aubrey. Kiera. Angelo’s entire team. I’m not letting any of you get hurt. So I have to. I have to protect you—and everyone else—from your fear. I hate this. I hate hurting you. But if this keeps you alive? I am not going to stop until I can trust you are as safe as I can make you,” she recited.

Every afternoon for six days, she’d told him all of this. That hadn’t been her plan, of course. She’d said what she had to on the first day. And she’d been denied a response by his talent. But when their training had finished, and his Gargoyle skin melted into actual flesh, he bit his lip and thanked her. He’d had tears running down his cheeks and a newfound fear of Violet in his eyes. But he thanked her. He asked her to repeat the same every day. Just to give him something to focus on. A way to remember that he was doing this for Kiera’s sake. And for his own. 

Violet agreed. And Guy agreed to keep the intensity of the training private. It would only upset their friends, after all. And this had been exactly why Violet was doing this instead of Kiera. She was the only one living in reality. The only one who would cross the line from training to causing genuine pain. They both understood this, and they both agreed it was necessary.

“I’m sorry. I am,” Violet insisted, and she hit him again.

Except this time, the bat cracked instead. It had hit a stronger orange crystal, after all. They’d finally done it, and just in time. Guy immediately released his talent, and Violet returned the borrowed bat to the other weapons hanging on the wall. It was over. Finally. Violet was a busy woman, and Guy had been slow to advance past that last degree. 

He didn’t celebrate like he usually would. All she could hear was heavy breathing and sad attempts to hold his sobbing back. Something he hadn’t managed for the first few days. He really was improving.

He only had a few words for her when he finally caught his breath. “Thank you,” he whimpered. “I couldn’t have done this without your help.”

“I’m sorry there wasn’t a better way to do it,” Violet apologized.

Guy sniffed. “It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re the only one who saw it,” he insisted. He paused for a moment, taking a few heavy breaths as bruises formed wherever crystal had cracked. “Don’t tell Kiera I cried, okay?”

“Of course,” Violet agreed. 

She was just relieved it was done. She had other things to worry about on her final day, and she didn’t want to waste it on the pathetic boy.