Lady Olma Helg of house Karkarin, a name that I didn't know before today and one I would never forget.

The Karkarin came from a long line of great warriors said to have been feared even before the gods gifted mankind with Animus-Blades. Instead of surcoats and swords, their skin was the only armour they needed and their weapons were their fists. These warrior peoples knew better than any other that the body must be broken before it could be reforged.

It started with a mistake on my part, I wanted to get to know Olma better. If she was going to be my tutor for any length of time, it felt like a smart idea for my continued safety to get on her good side. A week had passed since the rib breaking incident, I had long since healed because of the potions that the guild stocked. Compared to the balms and salves of my village. The syrupy green liquid was truly miraculous, able to fully regenerate someone's wounds over a day. They were too slow and expensive for use in combat but excellent for treating injuries that the body could heal with enough time. Once I had recovered Olma started training me in a one-handed fighting style for the flamberge.

"I never thought I'd get used to this."

I said as I swung the blunt practice sword at Olma's head, instead of dodging she batted the sword away with the back of her hand. It may not have been sharp but it was still a hunk of metal with decent heft but she knocked it away with ease.

"You're a fast learner. Good instincts just like she said. Keep this up for a week longer. It builds stamina."

Every day I was taken to the labyrinthian training hall. Usually, I would have started with lessons on manners and etiquette but the Mistress thought I already had the basics down. So for the next month, I was only going to have combat training with Olma until the lessons reached my level. I threw out a slash at her stomach but she used her knee to knock the strike off course and it missed entirely.

"Mistress said that you resisted her powers. Is this true?"

Olma asked. I had tried to learn more about her before but I was largely ignored, so her question was a somewhat pleasant surprise.

"Kind of. I only managed to move my arm and leg a little."

Olma tried to find any hint of a lie in my face and when she couldn't I saw her smile for the first time. It was gorgeous, her whole face lit up with innocent joy. When she was like this it was hard to believe that she had threatened to kill me only a week ago.

"Incredible. I couldn't move at all."

It was surprising to me that someone as strong as her couldn't force a movement. How did the paralysis work? Then a more intriguing thought came to mind,

"You've fought the Mistress? Really?"

Olma nodded slowly,

"She desired me for my height. I agreed to serve her if I lost."

"Do you like being here?"

"No."

Her voice was sombre. So it wasn't just me, there were others here against their will. Olma's hatred of lies was probably what tied her to this place. Maybe she could be an unlikely ally if she hated being here,

"If you don't mind me asking, why do you hate lies so much?"

I asked as gently as possible just in case it was a sore subject, I wasn't in the mood for another broken rib.

"Not lies. Lying women. Harlots. Snakes."

From the state of her Animus-blade I had assumed that she was in great pain. Unlike everyone else I had met, she had no problem sharing her sadness with others. She explained how her beloved older brother had met the woman of his dreams, they were inseparable for years until the time came for them to marry. The woman got cold feet during the ceremony and left Olma's brother at the altar. Heart-broken he became a recluse until,

"He's long gone. Suicide is taboo for us. So he was dishonoured after death. All I want is revenge."

The hurt in her eyes was like a gut punch to me. I knew that feeling, the desire to see someone's life end by your own hands. I still wanted it even now, revenge for Alessia and revenge on the Mistress for everything she had done. I felt compelled to share my story, and how I too felt the burning desire for retribution. Aside from my status as a blade tender I left nothing out, including my hatred of the Mistress. The way I saw it, that wasn't a secret. If I was able to move on that day I would have killed her where she stood.

Together, we found a strange thing to bond over. We shared our feelings openly and over the week an unexpected kinship grew. We weren't friends as far as I was concerned but there was mutual respect between us.

The week passed without event but I could increasingly see that Olma was distracted during our sessions. I even almost landed a strike on her. Once I got used to the feeling of swinging a sword we should have moved on to the next stage of swordsmanship but Olma had other plans.

"I think I get it now."

She said,

"You lie out of weakness. If you had strength you could be honourable."

It was a little too blunt but I supposed it wasn't wrong. I usually lied to avoid confrontation. She continued,

"I could make you stronger."

"You're already doing that."

I hated to admit it but I was making more progress here than I ever had on my own, having a dedicated tutor to tailor training to you was highly effective. But she corrected me,

"Fleur's training isn't any good. I could train you like a Karkarin."

I could be like the great warriors who had countless stories that sang their praises. I was too blinded by the lust for power after all this talk of getting back at those that wronged us, how could I say no when I was offered their secrets?

"Really? Do you know one of them? Would they be willing to help me?"

"I am one. You're a little late for training. But your mind is strong. I've seen your willpower. You could handle a faster course."

"You'd be willing to train me for free?"

I still couldn't believe it, the offer seemed too good to be true.

"As long as you're determined. If your vengeance succeeds I will be freed. But if you start the Karkarin path I won't let you stop."

"I want to get stronger."

I was foolish, nothing is free.

I hastily agreed because I was scared that she might take back the offer if I hesitated. I was just so swept up in the excitement of it all that I didn't ask her anything before agreeing.

How many bones would an average person break? A child might break a couple being reckless, an adult might break a few earning a living, and the old might break some accidentally. It wouldn't be strange for an average person to break six or more bones in their lifetime.

Crunch! My femur was shattered by her Screeching Guandao, the pain would have been debilitating if I wasn't already on the verge of losing consciousness. That was only the eighth bone, there was still a ton to go. Numbness became the only sensation my broken body could feel. My senses were so overwhelmed that my mind just shut it all out. I couldn't see through my tears and even if I could my brain wasn't in any shape to process the world around me.

Step one of the Karkarin path was destruction after puberty children had their bodies completely broken and then they were allowed to slowly heal. Over a year of abuse, the bones would strengthen, providing the necessary foundation for further training. But we had the accursed potions it would only take a day to undo the horror that I'd endured and then it would start again.

Was this what it felt like to be eaten alive by a great beast, to have your body mangled and crushed by their powerful jaws? I wasn't allowed to pass out, powerful smelling salts kept me barely awake, enduring the pain was part of the process. The skull was made of bones too, the last thing I remember of our 'training' was a blurry object moving towards my face.

I woke up with a start and lashed out at the first thing I saw in my hazy vision. It barely dodged my punch before shouting at me.

"Stop freaking out!?"

Said a startled boy's voice. I blinked and rubbed my eyes until I could see properly again, it was Art. I started patting my body in a panic to see if anything was out of place and breathed a little easier when I realised that I was fine. Everything I had experienced in that half-conscious state felt so hazy and far away like a nightmare. Art turned around and called out,

"Cala! She's awake!"

The twins came over immediately, Cala rushed to my side while Exa snuck up behind Art and hugged him tightly even as he tried to shake her off.

"Thank the Gods, the Angels okay."

She was just as motionless as usual but tears streamed from her eyes. I was informed that, without speaking to the kids, Olma had just dumped me onto the bed and left me to heal for a day. Seeing me looking like a corpse had caused a panic among the kids.

"Did they catch you looking for a way out?"

Art said without a hint of his usual disdain for me, while he pushed Exa off. Unfortunately, I hadn't had any time to look yet. Every day Olma and I took the same route through the heated bath, the changing room, the makeup room and then the training hall. Olma was too sharp for me to slip away unnoticed and I wasn't allowed anywhere unsupervised. My only hope was that there would be time to investigate when I started the etiquette lessons at the end of the month.

"No, that was training…"

"Training for what? Being crushed in a landslide?"

Art retorted. I didn't blame him for his scepticism. The later stages of Karkarin training techniques could snap your bones if they're too weak. So the first step was to build up the proper bone strength. Destruction typically lasted for a year but I was going to experience a year's worth of bone breaks in just under two weeks.

I went around reassuring the kids and singing for them. I was able to lose myself in the moment and forget about everything until the lock on the door cracked.

"Heya little Rose, it's that time again."

Ms Average said. She looked around the room for a moment before winking at Art but he didn't give her any attention. I was perfectly fine until I saw Olma crouch through the doors. My mind was slow to catch up but my body remembered immediately. Before I was aware of my actions I instinctively scrambled away from the threat but Olma swept through the room like lightning and picked me up under one arm. May the forge mother have mercy upon me.