Instant Regret

I regretted my decision almost immediately. While I had known, in the abstract, that this was going to be a physically intensive task, I didn’t realize what that would mean for me. More importantly, what it would mean for my out-of-shape body.

On Earth, I was not a sporty person. I never had been. I hated gym in school and avoided any extra curricular where running was required. I don’t mind a nice walk, or even a short hike. Anything beyond that was not for me.

Even if I was decently fit, I would have needed to start a strict regiment to begin training in order to climb that enormous mountain. I wasn’t fit, so my regiment would be all the stricter. That was where things started to go wrong. I was taken to a giant set of stone steps that ascend a hill so steeply you’d be forgiven for thinking it was a cliff. First, I had to climb that set of stairs as fast as I could. Then climb down. Then see how many times I could climb the stairs.

“Damn you,” I panted, bent over and gripping my knees for support. “Damn all of you.”

“That’s the spirit, my lady,” Daisuke said, clenching his hand into a fist. “Use that fire to push yourself even further.”

Daisuke was one of two demons assigned to my physical conditioning. He was the tallest man I’d seen so far in Wosurei, at least six foot five, and built like a rectangle. His black hair was tied up in a top not with a superbly groomed mustache. He was full of two things: muscle and enthusiasm. Far too much enthusiasm.

“I’ve pushed—as far —as I can,” I panted, sweat dripping down my face and off my nose.

“You said that two sets ago, but look at you now,” he grinned that demented grin of his. “Why not try one more?”

I knew there would be no peace until I went. So I turned and started to climb back to the top of this infernal hill. It helped my soul to be surrounded by lush beauty and for the trees to be tall enough that the stairs were in shadow. My cursing had scared off the birds though I wish it would have scared off the bugs. The sun was crawling up in the sky, approaching its zenith.

I reached the top of the hill to find my other demon waiting.

“Well done, my lady,” Fumi said. Where Daisuke was fire, she was water. Cool, calm, collected. She rivaled him in height with a similarly impressive muscle mass, like a chestnut-haired valkyrie.

“I might—collapse,” I said, working hard to breathe.

She regarded me, then nodded. “This is your last one. You may tell Daisuke I said so.”

“Your mercy—is much—appreciated.” I turned, staring down the steps. Daisuke waved at me from far below.

“Why did—you marry—him?” I asked.

Fumi chuckled. “Not everyone is as averse to exercise as you are. His passion leaks into everything he does, and I admire him for that.”

I nodded, too winded to speak further. They were definitely fated to be together.

The trips down were much better, though it was important not to go too fast. There was a real risk to falling, and the hand railings on either side couldn’t provide perfect protection.

I arrived back at the bottom, full of exhausted triumph. “Fumi said—I’m done.”

Daisuke looked towards his wife, squinting at her distant form. Fumi raised a hand. He nodded. “That concludes our stamina building. We’ll move on to strength building.”

I nearly fell over. “W-what?”

Daisuke let out a booming laugh at my obvious distress. He patted my shoulder. “Fret not, Seer. We’ll take a lunch break first.”

Relief flooded through me. A reprieve, thank God.

We walked over to a stone table underneath some nearby maple trees. It reminded me of a picnic table. A vision of me and my family on my brother’s twelfth birthday flitted through my mind. He wanted to see the cherry blossoms bloom. I wanted to stay home and draw. Still, we ended up having a nice time.

Don’t think about them, I scolded myself. If I stopped, if I reminded myself of all I’d lost too frequently, I worried what I might do.

Fumi brought out food and flasks of water. I drained my flask in moments, despite being told I should slow down. I felt the cold liquid course down my throat and splash into my stomach.

“At least eat a little slower,” Fumi cautioned. “Or else you’ll feel terrible.”

That, at least, I could do. The couple had brought half a dozen small dishes in a basket: white rice, various vegetables cut into cubes or strips, chicken, duck, and a sort of trail mix with nuts and dried fruit. I was given a small plate, a pair of chopsticks, and a wooden spoon.

I was about to grab a piece of chicken, when Daisuke said, “Wait.”

Both he and Fumi placed their hands together in prayer. “To the gods, we thank you for this meal, and we ask that you watch over us as we train your new Seer. In them, we trust.”

“In them, we trust,” Fumi echoed.

I said nothing, unsure if I should speak or what it might mean if I did. Did the gods actually listen to such mundane requests? Either way, I wasn’t about to start asking favours when they were the reason I was trapped in the first place.

With that, the meal began.

I observed Daisuke and Fumi carefully. Up until now, I’d been eating finger food, so I’d yet to see what Wosurei cutlery was like. The method, I deduced, was to use the spoon to remove the food from the communal dishes, put them on your own plate, then eat them with chop sticks. You didn’t eat with the spoon, it seemed to be exclusively a tool for dishing up. The nuts and fruit could be eaten by hand. Armed with knowledge, I tucked in.

“So, how much more do I need to do today?” I asked, dreading the answer.

Daisuke held up a hand and ticked each task off on a finger. “Stamina is done, so next is strength training. We’ll start with swimming, then incorporate other, more targeted tasks to build up muscle later on. Then of course, there’s hiking with a weighted pack—”

“What he means to say,” Fumi said. “Is that we’ll be testing your ability to swim, doing a few laps, and then stopping for the day.”

I sagged with relief. But she kept talking. “Your full routine will start tomorrow.”

Perhaps it would be easier to just die now.