Chapter 29 - Awakened Manhar
The afternoon drags on, filled with Cain's dull but necessary lessons. He works with Howard, going over the fundamentals of controlling an Awakened body refining his movements, adjusting to his enhanced reflexes the same shit he did with me. I, on the other hand, get stuck with a different kind of torment. Cain decides to test me on math and other basic subjects, making sure I'm "keeping up with my studies so that I don't look like a bumbling buffoon." Blonde hair prick.
I grumble my way through it, answering most of the questions with ease because despite what this freak may think, I do pay attention to that hag's lessons, if not just for the fear of my knuckles becoming nothing but bone to her ruler, though Cain still takes the time to correct me where I slip up.
By the time the lessons are over its dinner time, I'm half convinced my brain is melting. I wander back to my room, intent on getting some rest, but a few hours later, Cain is at my door again, his usual smirk in place.
"Come on," he says. "It's time for you to meet one of my bosses; he's finally arrived to heal Howard."
"What does that have to do with me" I sneer rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
'He wants to meet you so get dressed"
I follow him through the now dimly lit corridors, my boots making once again no noise on the carpeted floors. The castle has settled into its evening routine, servants moving quietly in the background, a few sconces staying lit, flickering along the walls. When we finally reach a side hall leading to one of the lesser chambers, Cain pushes the door open without hesitation.
Inside stands a man I don't recognize, but the moment my gaze lands on him, I assume this is who Cain was talking about. Awakened Patel Manahar.
He's not what I expected. An older man, probably in his late thirties. He's a little shorter than Cain, only around 5'8, with a slim build that makes him seem almost unassuming. His skin is wheatish in tone, his curly black hair slightly tousled, and his deep brown eyes... They hold something that makes me pause. Pain. Deep, quiet pain, etched into them like old scars as if he carries the weight of multiple tragedies.
Yet, when he looks at me, he smiles warmly.
"You must be Awakened Daath," he says, his voice carrying a strange accent, one I haven't heard before. "And you," he turns to Howard, "are Awakened Ashland. It is good to finally meet you both."
His voice is kind, his posture relaxed, but when I glance at Howard, I see the barely concealed look of distaste on his face. It's gone after a few seconds, but I caught it, and so did Manahar.
The older Awakened's smile doesn't falter, but there's something knowing in his eyes as he speaks again. "I come from Trola, the easternmost country in the Empire," he explains casually, as if addressing an unspoken question. "Perhaps you have not met many from my homeland before."
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Howard stiffens slightly but says nothing. I just watch, curious to see where this is going.
Howard's face flushes slightly as he realizes his blunder, and he bows his head in apology. "I meant no offense, sir," he says, voice more subdued than usual. "Your... skin color and accent just threw me off for a moment. I wasn't expecting it."
Awakened Manahar merely smiles, his expression completely unbothered. "No issue," he says easily. "I appreciate that you have the courtesy to apologize at least."
Howard nods stiffly, still clearly uncomfortable, but Manahar has already shifted his attention back to me.
"And you," he says, his smile growing slightly, "I am glad to finally meet Cain's prodigal student. I never thought I'd see the day he took someone under his wing."
Cain, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, rolls his eyes. "Can you get to the point, old man?"
Manahar chuckles, shaking his head. "See how he treats not only his elders but also his supervisors?" he says to me with mock exasperation. "Such a pain of a subordinate."
"Truly disgraceful," I reply with equal mockery, smirking when Cain shoots me a betrayed look.
Are all Awakened like these two? It's really throwing me for a loop how every Elite I've met so far hasn't been some ruthless, bloodthirsty killing machine. Instead, they're just eccentric weirdos. Not that it means much—I've only met Cain and now his boss. And Howard, I think as an afterthought.
Manahar's amusement lingers for a moment before he sighs and folds his arms. "I heard about the duel," he says, his tone still light, but now carrying a note of curiosity. "And how you apparently injured young Ashland here."
At the mention of it, Howard's eyes flash with anger, his posture stiffening slightly his pride still hasn't recovered. I catch the way his breathing increases and his nostrils flare, the memory of his earlier humiliation clearly still fresh.
But then, after a second, he exhales and bows his head again, this time in shame. "Yes, sir," he mutters.
I can't help it; I smirk.
Manahar's eyes catch my smirk, and his tone shifts, losing some of its warmth. "Be careful, my young friend," he says, his voice quieter but carrying undeniable weight. "That you don't make a habit of enjoying the pain of others. The measure of a man is what he does when he has power."
Something about the way he says that makes my smirk falter.
Manahar doesn't press the point. Instead, he exhales and turns away, dismissing the conversation as quickly as it came. "Now, down to business. I don't have a lot of time, so let me quickly heal young Ashland here, and then I'll have a few private words with Cain."
Howard straightens slightly as Manahar steps toward him, clearly trying to maintain what little dignity he has left. I watch as the man places a firm yet gentle hand on Howard's head.
Then his brown eyes suddenly turn a striking, bright orange. A soft green light blossoms from his palm, spreading over Howard's body in a thin veil before dissipating just as quickly as it appeared. The entire process takes barely a second.
Howard blinks in surprise, then flexes his previously fractured arm before waving it around experimentally. "That's it?" he asks, his tone almost skeptical.
Manahar chuckles, his eyes back to normal brown. "Injuries like that don't take much effort to heal," he says simply, as if he had not just mended broken and fractured bones.
Cain stretches his arms over his head, exhaling lazily before waving a hand in dismissal. "Alright, you two can do whatever you want. I know it's late, but I expect you both in the courtyard at dawn for training."
Manahar chuckles at his casual tone and says, "Once again, it was a pleasure meeting you both. We probably won't meet again before you depart to Lusa, but good luck in advance. He turns his attention back to Cain with a more serious expression. Clearly, their conversation wasn't over.
Howard and I exchange a glance before bowing slightly. Without another word, we turn around and exit, the door clicking shut behind us. As we step into the dimly lit hallway, I catch the low murmur of their voices resuming inside.
I narrow my eyes in suspicion at the door for a moment, then sigh and turn to Howard. "You've lived here your whole life," I say, keeping my voice low. "I assume there are secret passageways in a castle this big, right? Somewhere we can listen in?"
Howard snaps his head toward me, eyes flashing with immediate disdain. "Why would I disobey two Awakened?" His voice is tight, filled with the rigid discipline that had been beaten into his privileged skull since birth.
I sneer at him, unimpressed. "They're talking, and you have no desire to know about what? What if it's about you?" I watch as doubt flickers across his features, his noble upbringing warring with his curiosity. I press on, voice lowering into something more insidious. "Do you have zero sense of adventure? Think of it as practice for the Academy. From what Cain has told me, that place is more of a culling ground than a school weeding out Elites who aren't apparently cut out to bear the divines blessing.
Howard's eyes widen just slightly before he scowls. A sharp breath hisses through his teeth as he hisses, "Fine. Follow me. But if we're caught, I will—"
I snicker, cutting him off. "You'll what?" I taunt, watching his pupils dilate in irritation. Now hurry up and lead the way, rich boy."
"You insufferable bastard," he snaps as he turns away from me and starts a hurried walk down the corridor.
I grin and follow, anticipation curling in my chest.