Return to Training

Ignacio slowly stepped towards the glass room, the light orb in the centre still glowing. He passed Ezequiel’s office, taking a steady breath.

Please don’t be awake, he thought.

He couldn’t have any of them being awake. It was late, almost two in the morning. But he’d spent enough time with them to know someone was almost always awake. Just not always near the Cypher room.

He reached the glass door, glancing over his shoulder. It was empty, but someone coughed from one of the rooms in the distance.

He let out a sharp breath. “Kai.”

The glass door slid open. It was normally so quiet, but at that moment it seemed as loud as a charge-pistol being fired. He stepped in, bare feet warming against the carpeted floor. He spotted a small puddle of blood beneath the Cypher he normally used as he walked towards it.

That’s yours, something told him as he stood in front of the Cypher.

He took a deep breath, and sat back on the seat.

That’s your blood, Ignacio, that voice said again.

He closed his eyes, laying back on the Cypher.

He lowered his hand to the priming switch on the Cypher’s side, hesitating. He didn’t know how to disconnect himself from the Ethergeist. He was still dependent on the others to do it for him. And on top of that, he had no clue where he’d wake up. From what Koharu had told him, though, the man he trained with was an old friend.

Maybe he can teach us how to disconnect, he thought, fist clenching.

But is recovering lost time really worth your life, Ace?

But that wasn’t the right question. The right question was: is lost time recovered worth her life?

He clenched his jaws, a jolt of fear sprawling through his body like electricity as he flipped the switch. The arms of the Cypher closed on him, the electropads touching down on his head. They gave a low buzz, stiffening his whole body with a gentle electric current.

He breathed out, his cheeks puffing. “I’m not giving up, Celeste,” he whispered.

And he pushed the switch again. The necklock closed around his throat. And his eyes opened.

He groaned as he sat up, fingertips against his temple. His eyes widened as he stared up at a giant, glowing crystal jutting from a ceiling of dirt, its base wrapped in tree roots.

He took a look at himself, disappointed to find he wasn’t a Werewolf or Kraken. Instead, he was naked, wrapped in a white, gold and red blanket.

“Ah, you’re back, Ace,” a hollow voice boomed.

A giant suit of armour lumbered towards him, clanging with each step as his ears cleared up.

He stumbled backwards, raising a pathetic arm in self defense.

The armour stopped. It raised its hands to its head, removing it to reveal a man inside. He had ginger hair and a beard, an eyepatch matching his helmet’s covering his eye.

“Woah, you look like you’re seeing a ghost, boyo,” the man said. “Where’s the others?”

Ignacio swallowed. “I came alone,” he said, lowering his arm. “Are you Blackwell?”

The man frowned, tilting his head to the side. “I hope our training session wasn’t so boring that you’ve already forgotten me?”

Ignacio held up his hands. “It’s nothing personal. I seemed to have absorbed too many Aspects in our last training session and forgot everything.”

Blackwell’ frown deepened. “That’s not good.”

“Look, Blackwell,” Ignacio said, keeping the blanket around his waist clutched with one hand. “I need to relearn everything you taught me earlier, but in a shorter time period. Can you do that?”

“I didn’t teach you all that much,” Blackwell said. “But if you’re asking me to train you…”

“Please,” Ignacio said, “teach me everything you can in the next hour.”

Blackwell sighed, but held out a hand. “Since you’re with Genesys, and since you’re so persistent. Sure. But you’re first going to put some clothes on.”

Ignacio Kept his arms out at his sides, staring out the glass window onto the streets of Miraveth. Men and women passed by, up and down, in pairs, families, and some by themselves. But all had a distinct style.

They all wore cream or red coloured garments, the men wearing pale belts with a large red tassel on one end, and a large golden medallion on the other. The women wore scarves or shawls of a similar style.

“There,” the old woman said.

He looked down at himself, patting down the new clothes. He wore a dark brown coat made of some kind of leather, a pale blue shirt, and pants that had repeating flaps going down the back and sides. His sleeves ended sharp and curved like axe-heads, his collar standing high around his neck.

“Now you’re a Ronin,” she said, walking around him. She held a glowing purple needle in one hand, the thing large enough to be a dagger.

Blackwell stepped in front of him, holding his chin in thought. “I like it. Thank you, Terry,” he said.

She bowed. “Always a pleasure, Blackwell. Oh, actually.”

She swished her pin in an intricate pattern, leaving behind a detailed drawing of a purple hat in the air. She spun the pin around, tapped it, and something popped onto his head,

“Okay, now you’re a Ronin,” she said, grinning with a missing front tooth as she tucked the pin into her bun of hair.

Ignacio turned around as Blackwell whistled. He dragged a mirror out, its stand grating against the wood flooring. Ignacio frowned.

His clothes looked awesome. The hat was sharp at the back, wide brimmed with a crown of fangs around the top. A double belt formed a cross at his hips, the buckle gold and embossed with a symbol; an open set of fangs.

But it was his face that startled him. He had aged a few years compared to the real world, his eyes narrower and sharper, his jaw stronger. He looked like a man, not the boy he was used to seeing in the real world.

“What happened to me?” he asked, touching his face.

“Oh, you mean why’d you look different from the real world?” Blackwell asked. “It’s all self-perception here, Ace. Your psychological age shows in the Ethergeist, not your biological age.”

He stared at himself for a moment longer, his eyebrows lowering in a frown. He was a man. He was stronger than he’d ever thought he could be.

Look how far you got without him, Koharu’s voice echoed.

“Let’s train, Blackwell,” he said.

“Oh, not here,” Blackwell said. “You’ll survive the five minute walk back to the Aspectary.”