Chapter 81 – Excellence Camp – Outcast IX

Veiled Forest - Inner Section, 27th of Brightforge, year 315 UC

Bryan closed his eyes and let his consciousness sink into the ether that permeated everything around him. It was like diving into an ocean of energy, each layer denser than the last as he descended deeper into concentration. The surface thoughts—concerns about tomorrow's journey, irritation at the delay, worry about Alexander—all faded away as he immersed himself in the exercise.

He felt as if he were drifting on a cloud, weightless and formless, as the ether currents flowed around and through him. Then he pushed deeper, grounding himself until his mental feet touched something solid. The pressure here was immense, enough to crush someone without proper training. It pressed against his consciousness from all sides, trying to force him back to the surface.

But Bryan held firm in this space that would overwhelm most students.

He reached out with his right hand—not his physical hand, but its ethereal counterpart—and grabbed at the ether itself. The energy resisted at first, but he imposed his will upon it, envisioning it condensing, transforming into a thin thread.

'Make it thinner.'

The command echoed through his consciousness as he worked the ether like a craftsman with wire, smoothing and stretching it until it was nothing more than a line barely visible to even his perception.

Opening his awareness to the landscape around him, Bryan saw the world as it truly was—everything drowned in ether. The grass beneath him and the trees towered above, their ether flowing through blade, trunk, and branch. The trees didn't sway despite the night breeze he knew was blowing. Time seemed suspended, frozen in the moment of his concentration.

He set his sights on one particular tree five meters away. Between two of its lower branches was a small gap, barely large enough to fit a finger through. The opening was partially obscured by leaves.

A perfect warmup.

With the thread of ether held in his mental grasp, he cast it forward. The thread moved through the ether-dense environment, and Bryan had to constantly adjust its trajectory. It zigged around a stone embedded in the earth, weaving between blades of grass. It curved around a fallen leaf suspended in mid-air by the forest's natural ether currents.

The slightest loss of concentration would cause the thread to unravel, making the entire exercise pointless.

Bryan could see his target clearly now, only two meters remaining. The thread had to arc upward, avoid a cluster of mushrooms that grew at the tree's base, then slip through the narrow gap. His mental grip tightened as he began the final approach—

"Hey."

A hand landed on his shoulder, shattering his concentration instantly. The ether thread dissolved like smoke in wind. Bryan's consciousness slammed back into his physical body with jarring suddenness, leaving him momentarily disoriented.

He opened his eyes to find Farrah standing beside him, her hand still on his shoulder. She'd approached completely silently—or perhaps he'd been too deep in concentration to notice.

"Why are you way over here, Snowflake?"

"You and that name…"

Bryan's response came out more resigned than annoyed. The nickname had started as her way of teasing him about 'being' jealous. He still wasn't used to it and didn't think he ever would be.

"I know you like it."

She grinned, moving to sit beside him. She chose a spot close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her body in the cool night air.

"Did you need something?"

He asked, trying to refocus his scattered thoughts. The abrupt return from deep concentration had left him feeling exposed.

"You didn't deny it."

Farrah raised her eyebrow with an all too knowing smile. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as she studied his face in the moonlight.

Bryan chose not to respond to that, instead waiting for her to explain her presence.

"I was just checking up on you, you know, seeing how you're doing."

She said finally. Her fingers played with a blade of grass, twisting it absently.

"Fine."

Bryan and Farrah said at the same time. Although she started laughing when they did.

"Did you really just…"

Bryan started, but then stopped. He couldn't believe what just happened, and it was better not to think too deeply about it. Was he really becoming that predictable?

"What's with you?"

Bryan turned to look at her fully.

"What do you mean?"

She met his gaze directly.

"Repeating what I say, interrupting me. That's not like you."

He countered.

"Oh, it's not?"

She tilted her head, studying him with an intensity that made him want to look away.

"No, it's not."

Bryan insisted. There was something different about her tonight, an energy he couldn't quite place.

"I don't know, it feels like me."

She shrugged, then seemed to remember something.

"What did you mean interrupting you? Were you doing something?"

Her eyes scanned the area as if looking for evidence of what he'd been up to.

"I was training."

Bryan said simply, gesturing vaguely at the space around them.

"Didn't look like it."

Farrah's skepticism was evident as she shifted to face him more fully, her knee now touching his leg.

"When I came over you were just seated here with your eyes closed. It didn't even look like you were meditating."

"I was doing an exercise for ether manipulation."

He explained, trying not to focus on the point of contact between them.

"Guess I won't be finishing it tonight."

There was a hint of reproach in his voice, though not as much as there might have been with anyone else.

"Don't let me take you away from training."

She said it lightly, but he caught the slight hurt in her eyes.

"I get the feeling that's not true."

Bryan's response was dry, and it earned him a small smile. She relaxed again, settling back into her previous position.

A comfortable quiet fell between them. From the camp, they could hear the low murmur of Christopher and Sabrina talking by the fire, their words indistinct at this distance.

"Thanks."

Farrah said suddenly, breaking the silence.

"For what?"

Bryan turned to look at her.

"For taking the day to rest. For not doing something you might regret."

She paused, her hand unconsciously moving to her right arm.

"And for healing me."

The last part was added quietly, almost as an afterthought.

"I try not to have regrets."

Bryan said.

Farrah laughed softly.

"You know, back home I used to be scared of messing up. Embarrassing my family, letting them down."

She spoke while looking up at the trees, where stars peeked through gaps in the leaves.

"I take it this story has some meaning?"

Bryan's voice carried a hint of impatience. He wasn't good with allegories or hidden meanings—he preferred direct communication.

"Let me get there. Aren't you the impatient one."

She nudged him with her shoulder.

Bryan made a gesture for her to continue, settling back against one of the roots.

"As I was saying, I was scared of messing up. I just felt out of place, not really the heir, not the favored child. I just existed and tried not to do anything to ruin that."

Her voice took on a distant quality.

"That was especially true when my family was hosting this party to secure a trade agreement with some merchants. I was so scared of doing something wrong, that I ended up bumping into a merchant's wife, causing her to spill her drink all over her white dress."

She laughed ruefully, shaking her head.

"I remember it was white too, because the front was soaked red. The look she gave me, I could tell she wanted nothing better but to murder me."

Farrah's hands moved as she spoke.

"But, my grandmother pulled me to the side after apologizing to the woman, and told me to stop being stiff like a tree. I needed to loosen up a little."

Her impression of her grandmother's voice made Bryan's lips twitch slightly—not quite a smile, but close.

"I told her I should just leave, I already caused a scene but she refused to let me go. Said I wasn't going to leave until I danced with her."

Farrah's expression softened.

"And, I love my grandmother dearly, but she had two left feet. We were out of sync, but she enjoyed herself, and I did too."

"At the end of it, she asked if I had fun. I did, being around her always put me at ease. She told me good, because I had a lot more to do before the night was over. And when I told her that I was scared of ruining the event for my family, she assured me that wouldn't happen."

Farrah turned to look at him directly.

"If we all live our lives afraid of what might happen, then we'll never realize what could happen. If you make a mistake, learn from it."

She let that sink in for a moment before continuing.

"I say all that to say, regret is a tough teacher. To live without it is to believe you have nothing to learn, and no opportunity to become a better version of yourself."

"I guess that's true, to an extent."

Bryan conceded. In his experience, mistakes in the real world had consequences too severe for regret to be a luxury he could afford.

"Why do you have to sound like an old man?"

Farrah complained, but there was affection in her tone. She pulled up a handful of grass and tossed it at him, the blades scattering across his lap.

"Just the way I am, I guess."

He brushed the grass away, trying to ignore how her casual familiarity affected him.

"You know, when you met my mother and younger brother, I thought things would turn out differently."

She said suddenly.

"Why? What did you imagine?"

Bryan asked.

He had only met them a few days ago, not even a week. It was odd that she was bringing this up now, of all times.

"The cold detached version, I guess."

She picked at the grass between them, not meeting his eyes.

"You weren't in the right headspace then, so honestly, I was not sure what version of you I would get."

"You make it seem like there's multiple sides to me."

Bryan said..

"There's no version A or B or even C for that matter. It's just me."

"I mean, we all have versions of ourselves."

Farrah countered gently.

"Sometimes we want other people to see them, sometimes we don't."

She was watching him now.

Bryan noticed her hand move again to her arm, fingers ghosting over the spot where bone had pierced skin. The movement was subtle, probably unconscious, but he'd seen her do it several times since the healing.

"Are you alright?"

He asked abruptly, nodding toward her arm.

"Huh?"

She seemed genuinely surprised by the question, her hand freezing mid-motion.

"Ever since you got healed, you've been touching your arm where the bone broke through."

Bryan observed, his red eyes tracking the movement.

"So I'm asking, are you alright?"

"I have?"

Her hand dropped immediately to her lap, as if the arm had burned her.

"Yes, it hasn't happened often, but enough that I noticed."

Had his healing been incomplete? Had he missed something?

"Oh… I'm fine. My arm's fine."

She flexed her fingers, rotated her wrist, demonstrating the full range of motion.

"But?"

Bryan pressed, knowing there was more.

"No buts."

Her denial was quick.

"Yet, you keep touching it."

He pointed out, using logic to corner her into honesty.

"Yeah… I guess I'm still not over the whole thing."

Farrah finally admitted, her shoulders slumping slightly.

"If you need to, you can always get it looked at when we get back."

Bryan offered.

Did she not trust his healing?

"Oh, I most definitely am."

She said quickly, then seemed to realize how that sounded.

"It's not that I don't trust you, it's just…"

"You've never been healed that way before. Yeah, I get it."

He cut her off, not wanting to hear her try to spare his feelings. The blood healing was unsettling—he understood that. It didn't make it sting less.

"You know, that was the first time I've heard you sound upset."

Farrah observed, tilting her head as she studied his profile.

"That day during the fight."

She clarified.

"I wouldn't say that."

Bryan denied, though he knew she was right. Something about her fear, her injury, had affected him more than he wanted to admit.

"No? It sure sounded like it."

She pressed, a small smile playing at her lips.

"Like you wanted to bite someone's head off."

The image was so unlike him that Bryan almost smiled despite himself.

"What? It was sweet. Almost as if you cared."

Her tone was teasing.

"Don't put words in my mouth."

He warned, though there was no real heat behind it.

"I would never."

Farrah's mock innocence was ruined by her grin.

"But really, it was."

She added more seriously, her hand moving as if to touch his arm before she thought better of it.

Bryan didn't know how to respond to that.

"I just don't know why you did that. You aren't reckless, so why?"

Her throwing herself into danger didn't fit the pattern.

"You mean the thing with Alexander?"

She knew exactly what he meant.

Bryan nodded.

"There wasn't a better option, I just moved. Nothing more to it."

Her shrug was too casual for something that had nearly killed her.

"You could have died."

The words came out harsher than intended.

"Yeah… I know."

Her admission was subdued.

"Do you? Because you haven't been acting like you do."

Bryan turned to face her fully. She met his gaze without flinching, but he could see uncertainty there.

"How am I supposed to act then? Let fear control me?"

There was a defensive edge to her voice now, her body tensing as if preparing for a fight.

"No, but—"

He started, trying to find the right words to express his concern without revealing too much.

"But what?"

She stood abruptly, brushing her pants.

"I came over here to relax a little, not for this."

"Farrah, wait."

Bryan reached out as if to stop her, but his hand fell short of actually touching her.

She paused for just a moment, her back to him. Then she walked away, heading back toward the camp. The moonlight caught her retreating form until the shadows between the trees swallowed her.

She didn't look back.

Bryan remained seated, watching the space where she'd disappeared. He should go after her, apologize, try to explain. But he didn't move. He didn't know how to explain something he didn't fully understand himself—this protective instinct she triggered, this fear of losing her that made him angry at her recklessness.

'How did I mess that up?'

He asked himself, running a hand through his white hair in frustration. The conversation had started so well, with her teasing and her grandmother's story. When had it gone wrong?

A small movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Bryan's hand shot out with inhuman speed, snatching something from the air. Opening his palm, he found a small spider, its legs still twitching as it tried to escape.

It must have descended from the branches. Bryan studied it for a moment before closing his fist.

The tiny crunch was barely audible.

He wiped his hand on the grass, removing the remains.

Bryan considered returning to his ether manipulation exercise, but the focus required eluded him now.

Instead, he remained where he was, back against the rough bark, staring at the spot where Farrah had sat.

Tomorrow they would push to the center of the forest. And tomorrow, he would have to pretend this conversation hadn't happened, hadn't revealed things about both of them that were better left unexamined.

But tonight, in the silver-touched darkness of the forest, Bryan allowed himself one moment of honesty.

He'd messed up because he cared. And caring, in his experience, only led to pain.