Chapter 62: Physical training

Frost let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. It would have been nice to receive an explanation as well, but after everything he had gone through, being told that another part of his body wasn’t falling apart was good enough for the moment.

Ava remained beside the chair, her arms folded.

"Could it be related to his affinity?"

Gwendolyn glanced at her. "Possibly. Has anything changed on your status?"

Frost hesitated before drawing up the panel. The familiar information appeared before him, and he studied it more carefully than he had in the past few days, moving his attention past the usual entries to the sections that had troubled him for so long.

His affinity was still listed as Void, but other than that, there was nothing unusual.

"Anything?" Gwendolyn asked.

"Nothing new," Frost replied, looking up. Not that he would tell her if there was anyway. He could still recall Harod’s warning after all.

The only reason he had even exposed his affinity was because he wanted to see if they had any information about it, or that at least they wouldn’t cast him away because he couldn’t be of use.

She nodded slowly, then glanced towards Ava.

"Let Varren know. He might have a better idea of what we’re looking at."

Ava reached for her information plate, while Frost leaned forward a little.

"Do you think they’re connected, my eyes and affinity I mean?"

"I think it’s worth asking someone who knows more than I do," Gwendolyn replied. "For now, your eyes appear healthy, and you can see properly. If that changes, come straight to me."

There wasn’t much he could say to that. Frost nodded and dismissed the panel, though the names remained in his thoughts. He didn’t dare assume the change meant anything useful, especially after how badly his discovery of the Void affinity had gone, but it was difficult not to wonder.

Gwendolyn watched him for a moment before her gaze moved to the hair hanging over his forehead.

"In the meantime, we can deal with something considerably less mysterious."

Frost raised a brow. "What?"

"That."

She pointed at his hair.

He instinctively pushed his bangs aside, and Ava made a faint sound that might have been agreement.

"I was planning to," he said.

"When? Once it reached your chin?"

Frost looked between them, beginning to feel that the examination had taken an unnecessary turn.

"I only noticed how bad it was today."

"Yes, well, we’ve all been noticing it for a while," Gwendolyn replied, smiling again. "Get something to eat, then ask someone to show you where you can wash properly. I’ll find you a pair of scissors."

Ava looked down at him.

"And be back before your afternoon session."

Frost got up carefully, deciding to leave before either of them found another reason to comment on his appearance.

At least he was getting breakfast out of this visit, though he would have preferred not to earn it through a discussion of his failing personal grooming.

The dining area was already busy when they arrived. Some people were eating, while others sat over empty dishes, talking with the relaxed air of people who had nowhere urgent to be. Frost followed Ava to the serving counter, collected a plate, and looked around for somewhere to sit.

A young man at one of the tables noticed them and raised a hand.

"Ava! Over here."

She glanced in his direction, then continued walking. Frost followed, carrying his food with both hands as they approached a table occupied by the young man and a woman with her sleeves rolled up.

"So this is your new student," the man said, looking Frost over with interest. "You can still walk. That’s a good sign."

"Barely," Frost replied before he could stop himself.

The woman laughed and shifted her chair to make room. "Sit down. I’m Talia."

"Soren," the man added, gesturing towards himself.

"Frost."

"We know," Soren said, then paused at Frost’s expression. "Not like that. Gwendolyn mentioned you’d finally woken up."

Frost sat down, unsure whether he liked being known around the base as the person who had spent six weeks refusing to wake up. Still, they seemed friendly enough.

Ava remained standing beside the table.

"He’ll be joining you in the afternoons when he has the energy for it," she said. "Basic practice only. He isn’t ready for your regular sessions."

Soren nodded. "That’s fine. We can show him a few things."

"No runes."

"I wasn’t planning to throw anything at him."

"I’m making it clear."

"Very clear," Talia said, reaching for her cup. "We’ll try to return him with everything still attached."

Frost paused with his fork halfway towards his plate.

Talia noticed, and her smile faltered.

"Sorry. That was—"

"It’s fine," he said, shaking his head. "I’d appreciate it, actually."

Soren let out a short laugh, and the tension eased enough for Frost to begin eating. Ava watched them for another moment before apparently deciding they could be trusted with him.

"After lunch," she reminded him. "Don’t be late."

"I won’t."

She left without another word, and Soren waited until she had disappeared through the doorway before leaning slightly across the table.

"Well?"

Frost looked up from his food. "Well, what?"

"How bad was it?"

He thought about the running, the exercises, and the fact that Ava had found more problems with the way he stood than he had known it was possible to have.

"Apparently, I’ve been using my body wrong for nineteen years."

Talia laughed into her cup, while Soren nodded with an expression of solemn understanding.

"Sounds about right. Wait until she sees you hold a weapon."

Frost glanced towards the doorway, then back at his plate. He was tired, sore, and still uncertain about what had happened to his eyes, but for the first time since he had arrived here, he had somewhere to sit that wasn’t beside his bed and people to talk to who didn’t seem interested in reminding him how weak he was.

That was an improvement, at least.

He took another bite, then looked towards Soren.

"So, how am I supposed to hold one?"

...

The next six weeks were brutal for Frost. His life settled into a routine so simple that he could have described it in four words: train, eat, sleep, and shit.

There was hardly any room for anything else, and whatever little time he had between sessions was usually spent sitting somewhere, wondering whether his legs would cooperate when he eventually had to get up.

The comfortable bed and regular meals were still a blessing, of course, but he soon discovered that having his basic needs taken care of gave Ava one less reason to let him off easily.

He was still forbidden from leaving the base or exploring its other sections, though the restrictions quickly became almost meaningless.

Even if someone had opened every door and invited him to wander wherever he pleased, he doubted he would have found the energy to take them up on the offer.

Most evenings, the walk back to his room felt long enough already, and once he reached his bed, he rarely remembered much beyond lowering himself onto it. Sometimes, he fell asleep before he had even managed to pull the blanket over himself.

Waking up at five in the morning was its own kind of suffering. His body would still be aching from the previous day, his eyes barely willing to open, and yet the knowledge that Ava would be waiting made staying in bed a dangerous temptation.

He learned to get up before he could talk himself into another few minutes of sleep, wash his face, and drag himself towards the dining area for something light to eat.

By half past five, he would be standing in front of her, trying to look more awake than he felt, and she would begin finding things wrong with him before they had even started stretching.

It quickly became clear that carrying those monstrous packs had been child’s play compared to this.

The pack had been heavy, yes, and there had been days when Frost genuinely believed it would fold him in half, but at least he had been allowed to put it down while the others fought. Ava’s training left no part of him untouched.

When his legs were tired from running, it was time to work on his arms and back.

When those had reached their limit, she found something for his stomach to do, and when he thought surely there was nothing left, she had him moving around the training floor, correcting the way he stepped, turned, and kept his balance.

He stopped counting how many times he had passed out during a session.

The first time had embarrassed him terribly, especially when he woke to find Ava crouching beside him with that familiar disapproving expression, but after it happened a few more times, embarrassment became a concern for someone with more energy to spare.

He would be trying to finish an exercise, determined that he could manage just a little more, and then the room would tilt, the sounds around him would grow distant, and his body would make the decision for him.

Waking up meant water, a recovery break, and another reminder that being stubborn was useless if he couldn’t recognise his own limits.

Ava adjusted the workload as she had promised, though Frost soon learned that this didn’t necessarily mean making things easier.

She watched him closely, noting how long he could keep running, how many repetitions he could manage, and which movements began falling apart when he grew tired.

Whenever something became less difficult, she found a way to make it demanding again.

A weight he had finally grown comfortable lifting would be replaced with a heavier one, or a movement he thought he had mastered would have to be repeated more slowly, with less room to hide his mistakes.

His progress seemed to exist mostly for the purpose of giving her new ways to exhaust him.

It was absolute hell!