Damien’s training was going excellently. Ever since that helplessness, he felt a couple of years ago he started training. Constantly sprinting, bodyweight exercises, and training the control of his magic just so he wouldn’t have to rely on luck to provide opportunities for him. His body became leaner, no very muscular due to his elven nature and young age, but he definitely had more definition than before. The constant mental and physical strain he placed upon himself revealed self-discipline that was unseen before in either of his lives.

He by no means enjoyed the constant exertion, the never-ending studying, and constant cardio and strength training. Every time he thought of taking a break though, flashes of that day would resurface and torment him.

“It will happen again,” his mind would whisper. These echoes of his subconscious caused him to push himself. The one part of his training that was lacking was actual fighting. He did get some basic sword fighting and close combat lessons from the of the ex-mercenaries and guards in the town, but many refused to “indulge his trauma.”

This routine would become uprooted soon enough. As his age encroached on 13, he was informed that he and the rest of the children would be attending a school in the capital. Him Kera, Lance, Sera, and My’til were all to prepare to leave within a few months, right at the end of harvest season. This put Damien in quite a bind. He wanted to protect the children he grew up with, but now instead of his small village, he had to do it in one of the biggest cities on the continent, Geldun, the capital of the Aldi nation.

The Aldi nation was the nation in which the village was located. They were far from the center, located near the border of the Farlen nation, a predominately Elven country. Nearly the entire village was from Farlen or had ancestry that led back there. Due to their location, it would take several months to reach the capital which is why they needed to leave soon in order to get there at the start of the semester.

This preparation also had supplemental lessons held by Damien’s mother in order to get all the kids up to par for the education they were going to receive. All of the kids could do basic arithmetic alongside writing. Saria and My’til could both do more involved mathematics, likely taught to them by their parents, showing competency for lower level algebra. Lance and Kera weren’t as talented in maths but still could keep up, if only barely.

Damien found himself drifting off in his thoughts whenever they weren’t doing lessons related to writing or magic. Damien had finished his education up to basic Calculus, although he did find it hard to recall not having used it in over a decade. C’est la vie.

This intruded upon his training but there was nothing to be done. His mother wouldn’t stand him skipping the lessons as it was noticeably important to her that he did well at the school. The good thing was that these lessons had them learn the basics of arcane magic.

Arcane energy had a multiple of ways to influence it, mainly consisting of spell formations and casting. Spell formations were usually used for spells where stability is the utmost importance. Summoning, contracts, etc. or for mass production. Casting was typically used in most other. Elian had no alchemical mixture for increasing sensitivity to arcana so they had to do this the hard way. That meant hours upon hours of meditating and focus. This was not an easy task for a bunch of children, no matter how prodigious some of them were.

The magic prodigy, Saria, was the first of them to managed something. They were all attempting to conjure light, which required one to focus on the arcana around them and will it to emit light. Saria was the first to finally sense it and the first to command it. The rest followed over the next week or so with Lance being the last to finally control it.

At this point, they were transferring to combat training led by some of the ex-mercenaries. This training was focused on self-defense, in case they needed to deal with some vagrants. Each of them was granted a dulled wooden knife and taught basic knifeplay. They were also taught to avoid a knife fight if at all possible. It was common knowledge that the loser bled out on the ground and the winner bled out waiting for a healer. This wasn’t as true for elves due to their healing aptitude, but still a factor nonetheless. Damien was far happier with this knowledge, he was finally getting formal training and the dagger techniques could be used for his horn he uses as a weapon.

They practiced for weeks, and when they weren’t practicing they were studying. Until the day of departure arrived. The children would be accompanied by a few of their parents and the ex-mercs. The mercs would be guarding the caravan that they were going to join up with and the parents would reside in the city near the campus. As Damien gathered his few possessions a quiet bit of wistfulness welled up within him. Despite the few traumas acquired, Damien had a relatively peaceful life due to this village and was sad to see it disappear into the distance.

As the carriage they were in trekked along the bumpy path, the villagers quietly talked into the night. Damien felt himself dozing off, only staying awake due to the jostling of his body from the uneven road. He once again found himself reflecting upon his new life. This was something he found himself doing a lot lately. He was still fascinated by so much and didn’t truly appreciate it often. He was an elve, a being with thousands of years ahead of him if he played his cards right. It was so incredible the different opportunities offered by this. He was going to capitalize.

As sleep took him, Damien stared into the sky, watching the stars.