Eileithyia's Warmth

Chapter - 20

A month had slipped by since my duel with Tiberius, and life at the academy had settled into a steady, sometimes tiring, rhythm. After the duel and the boost in stats, I'd decided to put in some extra effort—not because I had any crazy goals yet, but because I wanted to see what a little hard work could get me. The thrill of completing that quest, of feeling like I'd actually accomplished something, stuck with me, and I wanted to build on it.

My days were now filled with a regular routine of classes, training, and Iridium exercises. Each morning brought a new ache, the kind you get after a decent workout, and while my body complained a bit, I got used to it. I was just doing what I needed to do to improve a little each day. In class, I did my best to stay focused, especially when it came to magical theory, which, to be honest, was still tough to stay awake for. Still, I managed to scrape by, avoiding any more of those awkward, confused moments that had plagued my first few weeks.

In the evenings, I practiced Iridium control exercises, trying to get a better feel for the power flowing through me. At first, it felt strange, like trying to flex a muscle I hadn't known was there. But bit by bit, I was learning to control it, even if the improvement was slow. 

Over the course of the month, I could feel a difference. I was a little stronger, a little quicker, and my control over Iridium was getting smoother. Looking back over the past month, I had something to show for my hard work.

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Callum Brown

Age: 19 

Level: 1 

Stats:

- Strength: 14 (+1) 

- Endurance: 16 (+1)

- Speed: 13 (+3) 

- Iridium: 20 (+1) 

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I couldn't help but feel a flash of pride. I'd earned each of those stat boosts through sweat and strain, pushing myself with routines that included push-ups, pull-ups, and endless running sessions. Each morning started with sprints, and afternoons were packed with exercises to build speed and endurance. The speed stat increase was especially satisfying—it felt like I was finally starting to shake the weight of my own two feet. 

But I'd also noticed something else: each new stat increase felt harder to earn than the last. Progress wasn't coming easily. And while I was content with the small gains, there was a strange frustration bubbling in the back of my mind. Ever since the duel, I hadn't received a single new quest. I was left waiting, wondering when the "system" would prompt me again, curious—and maybe a bit apprehensive—about where this "system" was taking me.

I couldn't shake the thought that someone or something was behind it, watching and controlling what quests were assigned to me. And I wondered, what purpose could they possibly have for me? For now, though, I waited, and I trained.

Of course, every day wasn't just training and classes. In those precious moments of free time, I'd found a small corner of calm—the bench in the field where I'd first met Eileithyia. It had quickly become 'our' bench, not just hers. Whenever I wasn't in class or worn out from training, I'd find myself wandering over to that quiet spot. Each afternoon, like clockwork, she was there. At first, she seemed hesitant, as if guarding that little slice of peace from intrusion, but soon she started to relax around me, talking more freely, and I quickly realized she was a natural storyteller.

Eileithyia spoke softly, in gentle tones that always seemed to float on the wind, and she had a way of making even the smallest things sound wondrous. She would talk about the flowers she'd sketched, the shapes of clouds, and the places she dreamed of visiting. Each story was painted with wonder, and I was perfectly content just to sit beside her, nodding as she talked on and on about everything and nothing.

One thing I couldn't help but notice was that she never spoke of her godhood, her family, or her life on Mount Olympus. There was a quiet distance between her and those grand tales of divinity; she didn't seem to cling to that identity at all. It was as if she'd left the life of a goddess behind, choosing instead to embrace a different existence here at the academy, one filled with quiet afternoons and sketches of fleeting beauty—a life as a painter, and perhaps a lonely one at that.

Today, as we sat in our usual spot, she was sketching a tiny, lively scene: a fox hidden in the tall grass, frozen mid-step as it stalked its prey. Her skill was undeniable, each pencil stroke filled with so much life it seemed as though the fox might leap from the page. She spoke softly as she drew, "I want to roam outside these academy walls, to see the animals I adore in their natural habitat." Her gaze drifted to the horizon. "I believe that if I could see them up close, my art would grow… become something more real."

As she spoke, a stray strand of chestnut hair fell across her face, framing her delicate features in a way that caught the afternoon sunlight. I don't know what came over me—perhaps the softness of her words or the quiet peace of the moment—but without thinking, I reached over and gently brushed that stray lock back behind her ear. My fingertips grazed her cheek, warm and soft, and for a second, I could feel my heartbeat quicken. She turned to me, her wide, dark eyes searching mine, as if seeing me clearly for the first time. 

For a heartbeat, time seemed to pause. My hand lingered, her soft gaze holding me in place. But then, reality crept back in, and I cleared my throat as I pulled my hand back, breaking the silence. "I... I should probably get back," I said, getting up and stepping away to mask the sudden awkwardness that had filled the space between us. "Thanks for, uh… We'll meet again tomorrow."

Eileithyia simply nodded, her expression imperceptible as I started walking away. I could feel her eyes on me, and as I reached the path back to the dorms, I glanced over my shoulder to find her still watching me. She wore a quiet smile, her gaze lingering, as if storing the moment away.