Trainer

(TW: Graphic descriptions of dead animals)

The dagger felt cold in my hands.

The Training Grounds were not like the other courtyards, not soft or pleasing on the eyes. I suppose the Gardens always had a slight feminine touch, while this was practically drowning in testosterone. The flowers and trees had been replaced with racks of swords and spears. Even the adorable little gazebos had been exchanged for ugly, black viewing lodges.

My eyes centred on the target. This time, this time.

I was alone, all the macho Lords who practically lived here were still up in their tower, having a lie in. Sleeping peacefully in their guarded rooms. I hadn't slept well since... forever.

My muscles clenched bracing for release and, just maybe, a hit.

I breathed outwards; I had done this before. At least, I tried to. This time it will hit.

My body swung forwards as the dagger flew through the air. It spun uncontrollably but it kept flying. Closer, closer. I watched in anticipation, frozen in my position. Time seemed to freeze, until a clunk broke the silence. The dagger had hit, just a few centimetres from the bullseye. I droplet of pride warmed the pit of my stomach. Well, at least until-

"Terrible shot. Abysmal."

I spun around to see Lord Andrew Brawn, dressed in a military uniform and carrying a bag of something. His expression was truly bored, as if had something better to do, which I doubt.

"You're late." I said, slightly annoyed.

"Sorry, had to get my beauty sleep. You look like you could really use some." He dumped the bag on the floor, yawning thematically.

"Thanks."

"So training, right? Sorry I haven't had my morning coffee." He slumped himself onto the floor, leaning on one of the training arenas. I roll my eyes but don't answer, instead joining him on the ground.

"Right, I suppose we are getting right into this, aren't we? What do you know about magic currently."

I try to rack my brains of everything I know, which is surprisingly little, considering they drill it into our minds from a young age. My mother used to read me a story about a lost Warlock who wanted to re-join the secret citadel of Warlocks. They barely explained how it worked, the magic. I guess they didn't want us to learn of its weaknesses.

"Umm, I know you pull the energy of animals' souls. The more powerful the animal the more energy you get, right? You use that energy to perform spells."

"Yea, that's the basic idea. We can also use their souls for other things." He said, picking up a stick and drawing into the sand. He drew in the sand a little dog before adding three arrows coming off it. At the first arrow he wrote spell casting and drew a little fire.

"We can do spellcasting, what you just described, summoning, and enchantment." He continued, adding more to the diagram.

He proceeded to explain everything to me, how, using a soul, they could steal attributes from it and apply it to other objects. The diagram depicted a warlock using a chameleon's soul to make camouflaged armour. Afterwards, he explained how you could summon a soul you had stored and they could do your bidding.

"Wait so we can bring things back to life! How did I not know about this?!" I shouted, a bit to enthusiastically.

"No, you can't bring things back from the dead using summoning. You just use their soul to recreate their physical body and they will do you bidding, until they fade." He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, if you summon a human soul, could you-" I began.

"Never attempt to summon a human soul. It will create a monster called a husk, or, even worse, a witch. Swear to me you won't try to bring back one of your dead friends or something, promise me!" His tone turned much more serious and me grabbed by the shoulders and shook me. His eyes filled with panic and pain.

"Ok, ok! I won't, I swear! Calm down!" I said, panicking slightly. Shaking, I wrenched his hands of me.

"I- I'm sorry. Anyway, the first I need to teach you, is how to draw energy," He opened the top of the bag and pulled out a rabbit, still with the arrow in its eye. I felt a little sick in my stomach, perhaps a little bit guilty for sucking the soul of an innocent creature but I pushed it down. It's just a rabbit, you've killed worse.

Andrew placed the corpse at my feet and walked me through it.

"Place your hands on it, feel the life drain from it and enter into yourself. Feel it fill you."

Concentrating, I close my eyes. It's fur was still soft, its body was still warm, its blood seeping from its wounds. Breathing deeply, I concentrated on the warmth, the echoes of its thudding heart. When I felt only the abyss of death, I dug deeper and deeper, pushing myself past the physical. Then I felt it.

At first it was just a tendril, a flicker of energy, but soon I found a forest, an inferno of a thousand colours. Free, it billowed within its dying body.

"I can feel it, I can see it, I think." I whisper to him, in fear whatever I had found will run away.

"Take it."

Obeying, I felt the energy filter into myself. It felt... magical. But the corpse began to writhe and screech and I stole more and more. I felt the soft fur turn to thorns, the warmth drained, the blood blackened. The screeches drowned out Andrew's voice. Horror crept down my spine and strangled any nice feeling the energy may have given me. Nausea rocked my stomach. My heart beat quickened. Andrew shouted something I couldn't hear.

Once there was nothing left to take, I ripped my hands from the rabbit and collapsed. The soul seethed within me. I couldn't breath fast enough, or deep enough. I rocked back and forth, unable to contain the energy that pounded inside me. I didn't even notice the tears streaking down my face.

"Hey, its ok. It's always hard the first time." Lord Andrew's voice was surprisingly gentle as he helped me too my feet.

"Does... Does the body always do that?" I said, shakily pointing at the once-rabbit pulp.

"Yes...Um, get used to it." his voice returned to that harsh tone, as if he had forgotten he was supposed to do it.

"Anyway, now you have a bit of energy in you, I'll teach you some basic spells. What do you want to learn first?"

I though back to the story I was told. I remember the main character being able to do the craziest sh*t. Things like reading minds, controlling them, creating swords out of thin air and way, way more. I imagined controlling armies, levelling cities and moving mountains. Although, I decided to start small.

"Flying."

My request was met with uproarious laughter from Andrew. He buckled over and even began to tear up. What an immature prick.

"You can't cast magic on yourself. Try again."

"Mind control."

"No."

"Telepathy?"

"No."

"Creating a weapon?"

"Yes!" He said, his face brightening.

"Really?"

"No."

"Well, what in the Spirits CAN a Warlock do then?!" I said angrily.

"Our magic uses soul energy, so we cast spells by transferring that energy into other forms, such as light and heat." As much as I was annoyed for being cheated out of flying, I knew deep down that it made sense.

"Fine, I'll do fire or something. But, mark my words, I haven't given up on on flying just yet."

For hours at a time, I tried to perfect my flames. Surprisingly, actually summoning the flames was easy. Stopping the energy from leaking out of my body was the hard part. So often I would summon a flame and my energy reserves would come rushing out in uncontrollable bursts. As if I had a massive dam in my soul, and when I try to open the smallest hatch to drink from, the entire river runs through. Then I would waste all my energy and have to draw again, each time less pleasant than the last.

By the end of the day, I was ready to collapse into bed, order my servants to get me some Spirit-damned meat rolls and stay there the rest of the day. So I rushed back to my room, pretending not to hear people who called on me. Entering the Relanos Ward was a bombardment of 'How was training?' and 'What are you doing out of your room?' and the mutters of 'Disrespectful child.' I shook it off, as I had learned to do and just silently continued to my room.

I was about to rip open the door when I heard a sound. The sound of quiet weeping. Slowly I opened the door and saw my servant, whom has spoken to me all but once, crying bitterly.

"Hey, are you alright?" I asked, concerned. She yelped and jumped up from my bed. Trying to wipe her tears she curtsied.

"Nothing, my Lady." When she returned to a normal standing position, I could see her hands shaking vigorously. Her breaths were shaky and shallow. Whiter than a sacrificial knife, her skin seemed sickly and over-worked.

"No, you are not okay. Are you stressed? Do you need a break?" I edged towards her slowly, readying my hand to place on her shoulder.

"No, my Lady. I- I do not require a break." her voice was hoarse and scared. Out of respect, I pulled my hand away.

"What is your name?" I tried to remain clam in the hopes that she would follow suit, but my question made her even more agitated.

"I don't have a name."

That stopped my train of thoughts in its tracks. I was just thinking that this poor woman had just had a bad week, that she was sick or stressed. But, now I knew it was something else, it had to be something else.

"What do people call you then?"

"My number is A-1657."

A number?! What in the f*ck does that mean?

"O-ok. Why are you crying? You won't be in trouble."

The woman fell to the floor, her body rocking with sobs and tears wetting her uniform. I tried to comfort her and get her to tell me what was happening but she barely get the words out through her overpowering distress.

"T-the cere...mony." she managed to force from her mouth between sobs, "Its... tomorrow. Throne... room."

"O-ok... I am going to get some help, okay?" I tried to leave the room but she clung to me, weeping harder than ever before. AS if remembering herself, she released me and got onto her knees.

"Please, please. Don't get... them. PLEASE!" she begged, beginning to shriek. In my fear of this sobbing mess, I ignored her and began to shout for help. A flurry of soldiers burst into the room and dragged the screaming woman from my room.

"Nooo! Please! I am not ready! HELP!"

Her pleas never left my head.