Through The Fractured Lens

Lucian

As I dragged my body through the wet mud, I felt the rain pummeling on my back.

Despite this—I had to keep going.

Pushing through, I kept crawling underneath the tight net, before pulling myself up at the end, at a wooden wall. I jumped up, grabbing one of the ledges peering out.

Pulling myself over the ledge, I swung up to grab the next, and the next.

Making it to the top, I slid over and fell on the other end. My vision became blurry for just a moment, as Claire was waiting for me on the other side.

"Record timing, Lucian." She said with a smile, before offering me a hand up.

I refused the gesture, eager to get up on my own, which I did. The rain kept pouring down as mud covered nearly my entire body, slowly washing away as the rain dripped down my uniform.

The training course stretched behind us, a gauntlet of obstacles designed to break not only your body, but your spirit as well.

While I had beat it—in record time as well, it meant nothing to me in the end.

Just another lousy expectation met.

Claire's smile faded as she studied me. "You okay? You seem…"

"Fine," I cut her off, my tone sharper than intended. I softened it slightly. "Just tired."

She nodded, but I could see the concern grow in her eyes. I'd become quite annoyed of others worrying so much about me, even those I only recently met.

I can handle myself, and the only person I need is me. Nobody else.

Everybody else is just a waste of space in my world. A waste of oxygen. They didn't benefit me, they didn't truly care.

They just wanted to feel better about themselves, and use others to reach that.

Lightning flashed, dancing through the sky above—illuminating the desolate landscape around us.

Claire tried to speak, but her voice was barely audible over the storm.

Finally, I made out a few words. "We should head back."

I didn't respond, my mind already elsewhere. I don't care if I got soaked or not, battered or bruised. I would survive.

As we trudged back towards the main compound, my thoughts spiraled inward. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of the war—and what's at stake pushing me down.

While I had wished for something simpler—patrol duty, anything, it seems my skills didn't go unnoticed.

I would be deployed, and sent out to the frontlines.

Although, I doubt I wouldn't have had any luck being sent elsewhere. It had seemed everybody in my barracks are being sent out tomorrow, as today marked the last day of training.

The others, they seemed to all find collective struggle in the fact that as soon as tomorrow, they could be dead. They could be another lifeless body getting shoveled off the empty battlefields as their sacrifice meant truly nothing.

They've come to realize that—and genuinely started worrying.

If I die or not, I simply did not care. I've already died once, and while that's one more time than anybody around me, that still didn't change anything.

Despite this, I did want to survive. Even in this world, there are cruel people.

People always flaunted their slaves and servants on the streets as they get paraded around, bragging about their royal families and blood—or how they son is a wartime general… anything.

Seeing all those scum just made me feel pity for the people that raised me.

They worked so hard for so little, while others have generational wealth, taking every worry off of their shoulders from the moment they are born.

The rain intensified as we neared the compound, the droplets stinging my skin like tiny needles.

As we entered the barracks, the bustling noises of the soldiers around me began harassing my eardrums. Some were worried, while others were joking around.

Despite this, they all yearned for a sense of distraction, and hope.

I made my way over to my bunk at the end, ignoring any of the concerned glances and attempted conversations that were made along the way. My wet uniform clung to my skin, but I didn't bother changing.

After all, it wasn't long before it would be soaked in my blood. Whether that would be my blood, or the blood of my enemies—or even allies. That was still to be seen.

***

The sound of people rushing by startled me awake.

'Well shit. I guess I fell asleep—who knows for how long. Seems to be night outside, though.'

I rushed out of bed, quickly brushing off excess dirt that still lingered around on my uniform. I began to follow the crowd outside, where people where shouting and cheering.

Pushing through the crowd, I finally saw what all the fuss was about.

"Come on boy, put your back into it!"

"Yeah!"

"—lose like that!"

"This is child's play for him!"

Two men seemed to be sparring, both wielding gauntlets. What a useless waste of time, I thought. However, I might learn something new here, so why not watch.

I found a nice spot to observe from, watching as the fight unfolded before my eyes.

One of them was exceedingly taller than the other, with torn up sleeves and long blonde hair that went down to his shoulders—while the other was quite short, with glowing brown hair.

While the shorter one seemed to be at a natural disadvantage, as the other man seemed to also possess immense physical strength, his usage with spirit energy was some of the best I've seen, better than mine, even.

I soon found out that the tall man was named Nico, the same Nico that stayed in my barracks. I never spoke with the man, but he did try to scare me when I first arrived, which was a surprise.

Everybody seemed to be cheering for him… like he was the obvious winner.

That was far from the truth.

While Nico's physical prowess and movement was top notch, he lacked the proper thought and precision behind his hits, as most swings felt brainless and dull of any actual coordination.

The other boy had outstanding reaction speed, however.

He couldn't keep up physically, however he excelled Nico when it came to his battle IQ.

This is why he would win, I thought. Nico was a mind numbed brute who relied on his muscle to win fights, which could be quite the flaw in battle.

Nico had stepped back, quickly dodging an attack of spears conjured by spirit energy.

He leapt in for a strike, boosting off the ground and using his momentum to create an impact. He imbued mountains of spirit energy into his fist, which was really his only option here.

Through endless hits, he couldn't seem to crack through the boy's iron dome of protection.

Because of this, Nico must've realized that he would need a lot more spirit energy to fully crack the shield. However, this would also be where he loses. He practically left his body defenseless, and while if the strike connected would ensure him victory—he can't always rely on his opponents not being able to account for something like that.

The boy saw it coming, and quickly retracted his shield, replacing it with a smaller, less energized shield in place for a blow.

Genius.

Nico swung through, instantly breaking the light shield that was placed.

However, this was merely a diversion. The boy quickly adjusted his footing, sending himself to the side, as his spirit energy was already circulating around in his fist.

He swung his fist around, sending it straight into the chest of Nico, knocking him back and into the audience, making multiple people tumble over.

The crowd stared in awe as they watched Nico struggle to get back up on his feet, before collapsing on himself once more. He had been defeated.

Some people started chanting, while others began bickering.

"Nico must've been holding back."

"Yeah, probably felt bad for the twig rookie over there."

"—how strong is that guy?"

The sudden gossip came to a grinding halt as Claire stepped forward, clapping slowly.

While she wasn't a general, she was in charge of our barracks—in command of all of us. She had proven to be quite annoying, at least to me, however a lot of people seemed fond of her.

I never understood it myself.

"Great fight boys, seems like you are all making the most out of the night." She spoke softly, trying to make people feel less worried about the dreaded tomorrow.

This may very well be the last time some of us see each other, and it seemed like everyone picked up on that quite fast.

"The night is still young, so enjoy yourselves!" She shouted.

Everybody started getting reckless at her words, clanking bottles and swinging fists.

'What a useless waste of time…' I thought to myself, as I started walking back over to the barracks, eager to sneak in a few extra hours of sleep from the rest.

As I pulled myself away from the crowd and into the barracks, I felt a sense of relief for tomorrow.

The training period proved to be utterly useless, as I had suspected. They trained only the physical, which I was in no need of.

I had wished for some more insight on spirit energy, but they didn't provide any.

Even at that, some people here couldn't even manipulate it.

How dead they were, I thought. While some of them took the extra time to hone their physical, swordsmanship and other factors—it simply wasn't enough to contend.

I sat back down on my bunk, letting out a sigh of relief, thankful for the peace.

However, that was short lived, as I noticed Claire coming by, taking a seat across from me in the empty bunk ahead.

She examined me for the millionth time—something she did on a regular.

It really did piss me off, however I always refrained from saying anything. Speaking up to her would cause more trouble than I cared to deal with.

Claire seemed quite groggy, but attempted to hide it and pose no emotion. But, it was obvious.

"You know, nobody has ever interested me as much as you have, Lucian."

"What?" I replied, confused.

"The way you carry yourself around, you know. You keep to yourself, never interacting with anybody. You've been here for a month and hadn't once had any sort of introduction to anybody else."

She spoke with such confidence, like she could relate to this.

However, how could she? She's so light and charismatic, which left a bitter taste on my tongue just thinking about it.

"Thanks." I mumbled, too tired to properly converse with her right now.

"I don't exactly mean that as a compliment. You've locked yourself away… for what? Tomorrow could very well be your last day. What do you make of that?"

"Do you want my honest answer?" I groaned.

"Yes."

"I don't care if I die. I don't care if my limbs get torn off and scattered across the battlefield. I don't care about it all." I explained, hoping this would make her go away.

A deadly silence struck between us, but I was grateful for it.

I took this time to actually put some focus into her. I never cared enough to actually acknowledge her appearance, just always wanted her to go away.

She had long white hair that seemed to glisten in the light. She always wore a smile on her face, even in what appeared to be their darkest moments. While her figure was small, her very aura spoke strength—enough to spook others.

"And why is that?" She finally replied. Curiosity painted her face clearly.

"Very few things scare me. Death is not one of them."

"You speak like you've experienced it before, like you know how it feels. Yet when blood leaks from your body, what will you feel then?" She retorted, clearly not happy with my answer.

"Relief."