Chapter 63: Progress

Still, little by little, his body began to change. His appetite grew, and he started finishing meals that would once have left him uncomfortably full, only to find himself hungry again by the next break.

The hollowness in his face gradually faded, his shoulders filled out, and the loose appearance he had acquired during his weeks in bed began to improve greatly.

His arms and legs developed more shape, while the training clothes that had seemed unnecessarily tight at first began fitting differently across his chest and thighs.

He didn’t become some towering wall of muscle, but when he caught his reflection after washing, he could finally see the work taking effect.

The improvement was even clearer during training. He could run farther before his breathing grew ragged, and the ache in his legs no longer forced him to slow down quite so early.

Exercises that had once left him trembling after a handful of repetitions became manageable, while getting up from the floor stopped requiring a moment of preparation and a quiet plea to whichever powers might be listening.

His balance improved as well.

He learned to turn without tangling his feet, to move backward without leaning so far that he nearly fell, and to keep his body steady when fatigue made him want to slump.

It wasn’t smooth progress. There were mornings when he felt stronger than ever, followed by days when everything seemed harder for no obvious reason.

He used the incident at the swamp as fuel, instead of letting the near-death experience eat away at him.

He still remembered what had happened with vivid clarity, and he doubted he would forget it anytime soon, but remembering no longer meant losing himself in it.

By the end of the six weeks, Frost could make it through the routine without passing out.

He still sweated, still ached, and still regarded certain exercises with a hatred that had only grown more personal, but he could finish them and remain on his feet afterward.

For once, when Ava finally allowed him to stop, he wasn’t too exhausted to notice what that meant.

Six weeks earlier, he had struggled to last twelve minutes on the running lane. Now, tired as he was, he could walk out of the training hall knowing he had completed everything she had put in front of him.

He had yet to cast a single rune, but at least his body was finally beginning to feel like something he could depend on.

…

“Ava tells me you’ve been doing well.”

Frost shrugged. “I guess. She put me through quite the wringer,” he said with a chuckle.

Varren laughed. “That does sound like her.”

Ava snorted from the side, but Frost’s gaze remained focused on Varren’s face. “By the way, what happened to your eye?” he asked, pointing towards his own.

“Ah, that.” A wry smile appeared on Varren’s face. “I met a rather vicious woman on my last job, and she took my eye with her claws.”

Frost shuddered. He didn’t even want to imagine what that felt like. He knew the pain of losing a body part, but that hardly meant he had grown comfortable with the thought, especially when the body part in question was an eye.

‘Gwen can probably take care of it though.’

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said after a moment, “but what exactly does Zero Dawn do? I mean, day to day, and what is the purpose of this organization?”

“Curious, huh?” Varren asked. “Well, to be frank, we don’t trust you enough to tell you any of that yet. At all. You might be a spy, after all. Finding you lying half-dead directly along our route was rather convenient.”

Frost nodded slowly.

Given what little they knew about him, he could understand why they might be suspicious, though he would have preferred a considerably less painful way of becoming a spy.

“Besides, only the higher-ups know the true purpose of this organization,” Varren continued. “For grunts like you, we’re simply a resistance force who are dissatisfied with the way things work in this world.”

“Actually,” Frost began, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, but you were away for so long that I never got the chance. I’m an Earthling.”

Varren raised a brow, and Ava did the same.

“You mean you’re one of those people who’ve been appearing here from another world?” Varren asked. “The ones the cities have been taking in?”

Frost nodded. “Yeah.”

“How curious. That explains your lack of knowledge, especially when it comes to runes. Otherwise it wouldn’t make sense for someone your age to know nothing about runes and rules of power in this world.”

Frost’s brow twitched. It was a fair observation, though he couldn’t help feeling that his intelligence had just been discreetly insulted.

“So, in a way, that means there’s no reason for me to be a spy; I haven’t been around here for nearly long enough to be someone’s spy,” he said.

Varren shrugged. “Who knows? I’ve heard more than a few of your fellow Earthlings have been struggling to adjust. Perhaps someone offered you the opportunity to live in comfort in exchange for your services.”

Frost smiled wryly. He had considered that possibility himself, but he hadn’t expected Varren to take that into account as well. Then again, he probably should have.

The man was leading a branch of a rebel organization with this many people under him; he had to have a decent head on his shoulders, even if his usual manner made it easy to forget.

Telling them he was from Earth explained his ignorance, but did very little to improve his credibility.

“So, I take it you won’t be giving me any valuable information about Zero Dawn anytime soon?”

Varren nodded, managing a calm smile. “I’m glad you understand. That being said,” Varren continued, “we can’t simply get rid of you because you might or might not be a spy. I went through the trouble of saving your life, so I need to make sure I suck you dry. You owe me your life, after all.”

Frost’s expression darkened. “You know, when you put it like that, it’s very easy for someone to misunderstand.”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” Varren asked, regarding him curiously.

Frost quickly shook his head. “Never mind.”

It seemed he was the only one around here with a mind dirty enough to turn that into a gay joke. Ava’s blank stare certainly wasn’t helping, so he decided to let the matter die before someone asked him to explain.

“In any case,” Varren continued, “you don’t look nearly as frail as you did a few weeks ago. You’re still not as strong as you need to be, but you’re ready to join the group training. I’d like to see how much more you’ve improved after a few weeks with the others.”

Frost nodded, a smile spreading across his face. “Thank you. And… Does that mean I can start learning about runes as well?”

Ava’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Frost hurried to clarify.

“Not casting them. I mean the script. I still can’t read any of it, and I thought perhaps I could work on that while I continue training.”

Varren regarded him for a moment before nodding. “That’s reasonable. There’s no point having you sit around waiting when you could be learning the basics.”

Frost felt his shoulders ease. After spending so long hoping for the chance to learn, even that small bit of permission was enough to brighten his mood. He had expected another refusal, or perhaps a reminder that he had yet to earn anything beyond his meals.

“Ava will find you something suitable,” Varren added, earning a glance from the young woman. “Nothing complicated. Start with the common symbols and their functions.”

“Yes, Master,” she replied, though the look she gave Frost suggested that he had somehow managed to inconvenience her personally.

‘Arghh! Shit, I know training will be hell tomorrow!’

“And don’t assume recognizing a few symbols means you’re ready to cast anything,” Varren continued. “You’ve spent weeks preparing your body. It would be rather unfortunate if you ruined all that work because you got impatient.”

“I understand,” Frost said.

He certainly wasn’t eager to find out whether Gwendolyn could put him back together a second time.

Once had been more than enough, and although the idea of finally using a rune excited him, he would rather reach that point with his limbs still attached.

Varren leaned back in his chair, satisfied. Ava took that as the end of the conversation and gestured for Frost to follow her, giving him just enough time to thank the man again before leading him out.

“You’ll report to the main training hall tomorrow morning,” she said as they walked. “I’ll introduce you to the instructor before the session begins.”

“So I won’t be training with you anymore?”

“Not every morning. I’ll still be checking your progress.”

Frost nodded, doing his best to keep his expression neutral. He was grateful for everything she had taught him, but the thought of spending a few hours outside the reach of her criticism was rather pleasant.

Ava looked sideways at him.

“You look relieved.”

“I was thinking about the script.”

“Of course you were.”

Fortunately, she left it at that.