Proof of Progress

The training hall of Valtryn wasn’t what Joren expected.

Another four days of healing and recouperation under Covinth's nurses brought much quicker recovery than one would typically see naturally, leading to the collective bruising and Joren's busted hand, now partially metal-plated, being fixed.

When Nyra told them she’d arranged for a “training session,” Joren pictured an outdoor yard, maybe a sparring ring fenced in by rope. Instead, she led them to another building located just east of the base they were observing a few weeks ago. She had organized the Auspex training hall for the group to use, allowing them to train in some more 'explosive' ways.

The floor was packed sand, designed to swallow impacts. The walls were layered in stone and some kind of black composite that shimmered faintly, absorbing sound the way cloth absorbed ink. Apparently, the work of some peculiar artifacts kept this place under some serious protection from internal (and external) blasts, slashes, and anything else that was the result of powers or serious strength.

“This is an Auspex training hall,” Nyra said, hands clasped neatly behind her back. Her voice carried easily in the dome. “Reinforced, monitored, and licensed for… less subtle displays. You won’t need to hold back here.”

Bart clutched his notebook to his chest like a holy scripture. “A true testing ground for all of us. We shall train our strengths for the coming battles."

Joren flexed his plated hand, the faint ache reminding him this wasn’t going to be easy. He glanced around at the others, all of them thinking about how best to train themselves given their strengths. The battle with Commander Coral showed all of them they were severely lacking in many departments, or perhaps files.

For the first time in weeks, it felt like a challenge.

Two Weeks Later – Training Grounds

Two weeks later, the training grounds bore the marks of their effort.

The sand was no longer smooth, but pushed into uneven dunes from countless falls, dashes, and impacts. The walls bore faint scorch marks that even the enchantments hadn’t quite swallowed, reminders of Willow’s strikes or Joren’s poorly controlled bursts. One of the wooden dummies lay splintered in the corner, Gus’s fist still the obvious culprit.

Bart’s notebook was thicker now, crammed with diagrams, equations that probably made no sense, and the occasional crude drawing of all of them mid-training. Within also contained strategies and blueprints for contraptions he could try using in battles. Another page talked about looking into some artifacts for him.

Joren had learned more in these two weeks than in those couple of months on the road.

Training sessions with Willow taught him more about close-combat at a fast pace, helping him keep up in the heat of attacks. He still wasn't able to beat her once, but he did see some minor improvements in his capabilities there.

When he trained with Gus, he learned more about his technique, finding ways to allow for all the lean muscle he had built over the years of farming to aid him better. No longer were the sloppy punches of a seventeen-year-old taking place, but now the semi-experienced punches that felt like a whip, channeling much more of his body through stance. Gus's teaching and sparring was not as helpful as it could have been, but only because of Joren's substantially smaller frame.

Nyra’s lessons were the opposite of brute force. She drilled him on awareness, forcing him to notice patterns in movement, angles of attack, and how to pace his strength for endurance rather than short bursts. At first, Joren hated her clipped corrections, but he couldn’t deny the difference they made. His instincts were sharper now, less reactive.

And then there was Bart. His contributions were… unusual. Using methods of projectiles from a slingshot, he had Joren evading attacks from enemies, which happened to be all four of his friends at once. In other sessions, he had Joren working on his concentration under distractions, which happened to be him screaming and telling weird jokes.

Through it all, Joren pushed himself harder than he ever had.

He found notable progress in his star creation, creating them faster and at larger sizes. He also found ways in channeling his stars power and increasing it, creating an even denser, faster, and larger star for a build-up attack. Another by-product of his training of star usage led to him finding ways to create stardust, trails of light in the air that he could use as a way to write.

Another area he worked on was his gravity manipulation. The growth in his technique and battle-sense helped his force amplification attack see great improvement. He also found out how to bring out the gravity field he displayed in his fight with Thunderclap, though without those heightened emotions, he could only focus on maintaining it while stationary. That one was way more complex on his mental than anything else he knew how to do, unfortunately.

Willow saw improvements in her own abilities as well, and her progress was perhaps the most visible of all. Taking note of the Coral fight, she found out she could extend her limbs outwards just like his drawer. Her fighting technique also became far more relentless, getting faster and rebounding from parries better. If she had the higher endurance, you would likely not beat her one on one.

Gus’s growth was quieter but just as clear. His raw strength had always been obvious, but now it carried refinement. Most of his time was spent on endurance training, carrying two hundred pounds on his shoulders as he ran laps until he gave out. In sparring, Gus was becoming harder to move. He used his size to anchor himself, cutting off angles and pulling opponents into his range rather than chasing them to theirs. Against Joren’s tricks of gravity or Willow’s quick flurries, he’d adapted to stay calm, defend tight, and wait for the opening to hit back twice as hard, just like Coral did to him.

Bart’s growth leaned toward support, and though his methods raised eyebrows, the results were hard to ignore. In sparring, he tested a pouch of toys scattered across the sand, forcing Joren to watch his footing mid-duel. A chalky powder thrown at the right time blurred Willow’s vision just long enough for him to land a clean tap, which he said would do wonders with the right tool in his hand. Every so often Bart’s interference turned the flow of a fight in ways that couldn’t be dismissed. Joren realized it most during a drill when Bart deliberately broke the rhythm with a nonsense whistle and a pebble pitched across the room.

Each member was finding their role, cementing their place in any team fight with clear expectations. Although there was a strangely good cohesion in their battle with Coral, it improved even more through the collective sectionals they did with Nyra. Surprisingly, Nyra was able to fend them off in those 4v1’s quite well, though none of them were using lethal means.

Evening – Continuity Headquarters

After wrapping up their training camp, the group made their way over to see Nyra at her place to receive their rewards for their work. Shortly after waking up in the hospital, Gus began writing a letter to his family to notify them of the new shop he secured for them to use as a secondary location.

The headquarters was just as they left it last time, filled with bustling clerks and analysts getting documents to other workers and chit-chatting. Nyra greeted them as they arrived and brought them to her main office.

The office itself looked lived-in compared to the polished halls. A neat stack of scrolls and folders sat on the edge of her desk, a small window overlooking the lower courtyard where streetlights were being lit up. On one wall, a map of Varenthal was filled with colored pins, some recent enough by the looks of them.

“Sit, if you like,” Nyra said, smoothing the front of her jacket as she crossed behind her desk. Her tone carried the same professionalism as always, but the faint curve of her mouth betrayed position. “The King was impressed enough by your contributions and went through with approving each of your requests. Consider this the formal acknowledgment.”

Bart gasped, already leaning forward. “Formal acknowledgment? Do I get a seal? A wax seal? Or better yet, a wheel of cheese with the seal pressed into it?”

“Sit down, Bart.” Willow muttered, though she was hiding a grin.

Nyra sighed, reaching for the first folder in her stack. “One at a time.”

Nyra flipped open the first folder and adjusted her glasses. “Augustus Marcellus.”

Gus sat straighter, hands folded on his knees.

“As you requested,” Nyra continued, “the Department has approved a secondary storefront for your family’s porcelain trade. The deed is signed under your name, though the taxes and inspections will be waived for the first two years, during which you should keep a fairly accurate record of sales and logistics. A courier will deliver the official notice within the week to your family.”

Gus let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His voice was steady, but his eyes shone faintly as he nodded. “Thank you.”

“Bartholomew.”

Bart immediately straightened like he was being knighted. “Ah, the moment at last.”

Nyra just slid a wrapped parcel across the desk. “Lifetime grant of cheese rations within Varenthal’s borders. Redeemable at all approved dairies and government-affiliated storefronts. Try not to abuse it.”

Bart tore the seal open like a child at Midwinter and kissed the paper. “Finally, official documentation! No one can call me a madman now.”

“Not a madman?” Willow muttered. “That’s debatable.”

Nyra ignored them both and reached for the third folder. Her tone softened, if only slightly. “Joren Merrick and Willow Thornfield.”

“Your names have been stricken from all lists for retrieval and such. Within Varenthal’s borders, you are under the King’s personal protection. No warrants, no hunters, no inquiries. So long as you remain within the territories or capital, you are safe to walk freely.”

Beside him, Willow leaned back with her arms crossed, a lopsided grin tugging at her mouth. “Guess that makes us officially protected troublemakers now.”

Bart raised a finger. “Hold on. You’re telling me they’re untouchable? But if I so much as barter my cheese rations for socks, I’ll get fined?”

“Yes.” Nyra said without hesitation.

“Fair enough.” Bart muttered, hugging the paper to his chest.

"Beyond the individual rewards, it was also agreed upon that you would all receive a stipend for the troubles to help you on your adventure." Nyra added, pulling out a sack of coins. Inside was Copper, Silver, and a few gold pieces. That should be plenty to last them at least another two months.

When Joren started out, he took all of his savings and a small gift of money from Hazel into Glazebend. By the time he and Gus reached the Inn in the woods, they were seeing a fair dent in their coffers. After getting their reward money for the beast quest and had Willow join them, they were set for maybe two weeks at best. Bart's free housing and food helped mitigate any other hits to the funds so that they could manage a few days in the capital while looking for ways to make money.

Now that they were getting paid, they should be ok for whatever they decided, as long as it was fairly reasonable.

Nyra rested her elbows on the desk, fingers steepled. “That's all that we have for you. Now comes the difficult question. What will you do next?”

Willow was the first to answer, kicking one leg over the other. “What we always do. Walk until trouble finds us.”

Nyra’s face scrunched poutily at that, though her eyes stayed serious. “Trouble will find you, no doubt, but if you’re intent on walking, I would like to know where you are heading. Just in case."

Joren answered next. "We discussed briefly a few places we could make our moves towards, but I think I've decided that the Carnival city should be our next stop."

Nyra tilted her head, studying him. “Carnival City. A bold choice.”

Bart leaned forward eagerly. “Bold? Or brilliant? Imagine it, Ms. Nyra, a city where festivals run year-round. Lights, fried food, games, and—”

“Noise,” Gus interrupted flatly. “Too much noise. But I’ll admit… it sounds like work might be easier to find in a place that’s always moving. Maybe we could see some exotic animals, too.”

Nyra drummed her fingers against the desk, weighing the thought. “Carnival City has its charms, yes, but it also attracts all sorts of characters and products. Smugglers. Artifacts. Rival factions who use the chaos to cover their movements. If you go, stay alert.”

Willow grinned, as if that was exactly the sort of warning she liked hearing. “Sounds perfect.”

Joren sat a little straighter. “We’ve been drifting from place to place, but this feels like the right direction. If we’re going to keep growing stronger and pursuing our goals, we’ll need to see more of the world."

Nyra considered him for a long moment, then nodded. “Very well. I’ll mark it in my notes in case I need to send word to someone. Don’t vanish on me without a trace, Joren Merrick. If you do, I’ll assume the worst scenario.”

Bart cleared his throat dramatically. “Correction, we’ll vanish together, which is far more poetic.”

“Poetic isn’t the word I’d use.” Gus muttered.

Nyra sighed, but there was a trace of a smile at the corner of her mouth. “Then may the road treat you kindly. Carnival City will test you in ways far different than Valtryn ever could."

Then she added a note as they began to leave her office for the Inn. "Also, come visit me sometime. We are friends now, so I'll be looking for updates on you all in the news or reports."

With that, their adventure in the capital of Varenthal was coming to an end. On the horizon, the Carnival City awaited their arrival, along with new friends and foes alike.