58 Extra firm
Upon arriving at the camp, Atticus went directly to his room. When he reached his door, he noticed a girl holding a tray of food waiting patiently outside his door.
She had white hair and stood at 5 feet tall, exuding an aloof demeanor. It was none other than Ember who stood against the wall, her eyes fixed on the door, anticipating his arrival.
Seeing her brought a smile to Atticus's lips. "Hey, Ember, what's up?" he greeted, walking up to her.
Ember, noticing his arrival, turned her gaze to him and smiled a little. Her response was simple – she raised the food she had brought.
Atticus chuckled in appreciation, "Thanks! I'm a bit hungry. Did you wait long?" he inquired as he walked toward the door and opened it.
Ember shook her head in response and followed him inside the room.
As they entered, Atticus continued the conversation. "So, how's training?"
"It's fine," Ember answered, seating herself at the table and placing the food on it.
"Hmm, that's great," Atticus acknowledged, taking a seat as well, his senses picking up the inviting aroma of the food.
Then they started eating, the memory of the torment he had inflicted on Helodor completely pushed aside.
In the Raven camp infirmary, a few hours later, Helodor had been patched up after the beating inflicted by Atticus. Bandages covered his body, addressing the injuries sustained during the encounter.
While his jaw wasn't fully healed, it showed significant improvement compared to earlier.
The camp invested a lot in their infirmary, remaining ready to respond to any injuries. Given that fights were permitted, injuries were a common occurence and the infirmary staff stayed on high alert, ready to deal with any cases that might pop up.
Lying on the bed, thinking about his life, a man suddenly walked into the room. Helodor stiffened as he saw the man. The sight of this man compelled him to push past the pain, rising from the bed and bowing deeply, despite the protest of his still-healing body.
The man observed this display with an unmoved expression. After a few seconds, during which Helodor remained bowed, he spoke. "You couldn't even manage this simple thing, Helodor. How do you expect to earn his favor?" His gaze bore down on Helodor, cold and unwavering.
Helodor swiftly attempted to provide an explanation, his words spilling out in his desperation. "I'm sorry! I didn't know he was that strong! He had a second element! If I could get an—"
"He had a second element?" The man's tone shifted, becoming considerably more serious.
"Yes, Master Finn! He used fire when I cut the rope!" Helodor responded with haste, clinging to this revelation as a potential reprieve.
"I see. Master would want to hear this. Good job," Finn acknowledged, yet his eyes retained their cold regard.
Helodor felt a glimmer of relief – 'Maybe I still have a chance.'
Attempting to continue, "Then-" he was abruptly halted.
"Unfortunately, Master doesn't offer second chances. You're on your own from now on, Helodor," Finn's tone remained frigid as he delivered the final blow.
With that, he turned and departed the room, leaving behind a Helodor whose eyes had grown devoid of life.
"It's over," Helodor whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks in silent despair.
Coming from a lower status within the Ravenstein hierarchy, his recruitment by Rowan upon joining the camp in his first year had left him ecstatic.
Ever since then, he had been actively assisting their cause. His efforts included recruiting new members, contributing to their shared objectives through various means.
A recent task had been assigned to him – dealing with Atticus. Initially, the plan involved provoking Atticus to the point where he would attack, giving Helodor the opportunity to retaliate and subdue him.
This strategy aimed to tarnish Atticus's reputation, undermining the respect people held for the heir and lowering his self-esteem. Despite Atticus's status in the main family, Helodor placed his trust in Rowan's protection.
However, the plan went awry as Atticus didn't fall for the bait. Frustrated, Helodor opted for a more direct approach, seizing an opportunity when Hella selected the mission.
He got to the training ground early and was surprised that Aurora hadn't arrived yet. 09:47
He was aware that the AI would record any direct harm toward Atticus, potentially alerting the instructors. However, the act of simply cutting a rope carried a different implication.
But he never would have guessed that Atticus was a monster in human skin. The torture Atticus had inflicted on him was something he would remember for the rest of his life.
"But it's all over now," within the room, only the sound of a young boy sobbing echoed.
The next day, Atticus woke up early, went through his training routine, and arrived at the morning training session, ready for whatever Elias could dish out.
He got to the training ground early and was surprised that Aurora hadn't arrived yet. After a few minutes, other youths began to arrive at the training grounds.
Lucas and Nate approached him and greeted, "Good morning," Lucas greeted with a smile.
"Hey," Nate said awkwardly. Atticus noticed that Nate was acting slightly cautious around him.
'Did I take it too far?' Atticus thought inwardly. Then he shrugged. 'Nothing's going to change. This is how I will always treat my enemies.' Atticus had no intention of changing his ideals because of him.
In fact, he thought it was necessary for them to know how he treats those he considers enemies. He felt it would be a huge deterrent for betrayers in the future.
They stood together and waited for the instructor to arrive.
A few minutes later, Aurora eventually showed up, just two minutes before the scheduled time.
She appeared tired and worn out, a sight that was becoming familiar to Atticus. His heightened perception allowed him to notice bruises on her body that couldn't have been caused by hard training alone. 'She's like that again,' he thought.
However, he quickly reminded himself, 'But it changes nothing. It's still not my business.'
As he was contemplating Aurora's condition, Elias walked into the training ground, and the youths couldn't help but gulp when they saw the extra firm look on his face.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
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