Chapter 972 - 971: Nine Days

Rowan watched Celeste close the door, taking longer than he intended to look away.

She wore a plain cream blouse and a black skirt. Her pale-gold hair was tied back with a ribbon, leaving a few loose strands beside her cheeks. Without the embroidered gown and the soldiers waiting on her every word, she looked much closer to his age.

She really was beautiful.

Then she caught him looking, and he hurriedly stepped away from the window.

"Saintess."

"How are you settling in?"

It had been two days since they arrived from the Northern Carpathian Front. Rowan had learned where the dining room was, which corridor led to the garden, and when the maids came to change his sheets. He had spent most of that time in this room.

"It’s comfortable here. Thank you."

Celeste approached the tray on the table.

"Is the food not to your liking?"

"No. It’s good."

She looked at the few bites missing from the meal.

"The maids told me you’ve hardly been eating. I was hoping they were worrying over nothing."

"I’m sorry."

"You don’t need to apologise. I’d just like to know what’s wrong."

He rubbed his thumb along the window frame.

"I haven’t felt like eating."

Celeste waited.

"I keep dreaming about them," he said more quietly. "My parents."

In one dream, he had managed to wake his mother. She had taken his hand, and they were about to leave the house when he woke instead. For a few seconds, he had searched the unfamiliar room for her.

He hadn’t gone back to sleep afterward.

"Sometimes I see them die again."

Celeste pulled out a chair and sat.

"Come and sit with me."

He took the other chair.

"If you need someone to talk to, ask for me. Even if you don’t know what you want to say."

Rowan nodded, watching his hands.

"I’ve been having nightmares too. So I understand," she murmured softly.

He lifted his head.

"What did you say?"

"Don’t worry about it."

She tucked a loose strand behind her ear and gave him a small smile.

"There is something important I wanted to discuss with you."

"The demon?"

His shoulders tightened.

"I’ve told you everything I remember. I don’t think there’s anything else-"

"No, Rowan. I’m not here to question you about him."

He relaxed a little.

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"And when do you turn sixteen?"

"In nine days."

"Nine?"

Celeste sat forward.

"So soon?"

"Is there a problem?"

"No. I was wondering how much time we had before your System awakened."

Rowan raised his eyes to hers. The light of excitement and anticipation flickered in his eyes.

"I know about the System. Mum and Dad had one. Every adult in the village did."

He almost smiled.

"They used to talk about what would happen when mine awakened. Dad said a good Blessing could get me into a good academy. Or help me find work somewhere better."

His voice faded.

"They were looking forward to it. We all were."

Celeste opened her mouth, but he spoke before she could.

"Do I have to do anything?"

"For the awakening?"

"Yes. Is there a ceremony? Something I need to prepare?"

She shook her head.

"Your System will awaken automatically when you turn sixteen."

"That’s all?"

"That’s all you need for it to awaken."

Her answer should have reassured him, but he noticed her looking at his arms, then at the unfinished food.

"Is there something else?"

"Your foundation concerns me. Without proper preparation, I can’t say what your initial status window will show, or what sort of Blessing you might receive."

"Foundation?"

"The condition you’re in before awakening. Your body, what you’ve learned, how well you can use what you’ve learned."

She rested her hands in her lap.

"Have you ever received formal training?"

Rowan shook his head.

"My father showed me how to hold a sword a few times."

"Martial arts? Any body-training or cultivation methods?"

"No."

Celeste nodded, choosing her next words carefully.

"Families like mine begin preparing their children years before they turn sixteen. Physical training, martial practice, suitable body arts, the early exercises of cultivation methods. They’re also taught about Aether, creatures they might encounter, and how to handle themselves in danger."

"Before they even have a System?"

"Yes. A well-trained child can begin with a stronger body and a better chance of receiving a powerful Blessing."

Rowan looked down at his own hands.

"Nobody told us."

"Most commoners aren’t taught this. Some train because they want to become fighters, but they don’t know how much the preparation can matter at awakening."

She paused.

"In the old families, children don’t always get a choice. They’re made to train while they’re young, whether they enjoy it or not."

"Does that guarantee a strong Blessing?"

"No. It improves their chances. There are people who prepare for years and are disappointed, and people without that preparation who receive something extraordinary."

He listened, trying to find something in her explanation he could use.

"Could I start now?"

"You can. I’d hoped to help you build a proper foundation after what happened. But that usually takes years, Rowan. We have little more than a week."

He lowered his head.

He had thought the real training would begin after his awakening. No one had told him he was supposed to prepare years before.

Outside, a train passed above the street. He followed the noise toward the window.

"Do you think I could ever kill him?"

Celeste’s hands stopped moving.

"Blackmoon," he added.

She had known the conversation might come to this. Knowing had not given her an answer.

"Rowan-"

"I know the answer to that... Probably not."

He pressed his palms against his knees.

"He beat the God of War. Commander Mara said so. And I couldn’t even hurt his eye with my sword."

Celeste remembered the shattered blade, but said nothing.

"I keep trying to think about something else. Then I remember Mum holding me, or Dad lying there, and I want to find him again."

His fingers dug into the cloth.

"I don’t want him to go on living as though nothing happened. I want him to hurt. I want to hear him scream before he dies."

His lips drew back from his teeth. For the first time since she entered, something approaching pleasure crossed his face.

Celeste had seen that expression on creatures standing over wounded humans. Seeing it on Rowan made her stomach turn.

He caught her watching and shut his mouth.

"I’m sorry."

She took a breath.

"I understand why you hate him."

She could neither promise him revenge nor ask him to forget what had happened. For a while, she studied the boy sitting opposite her and wondered whether teaching him to fight would help him at all.

"There is something we can do before your birthday," she said eventually.

Rowan looked up at once.

"What?"

"A medicinal bath. I’ll have one prepared for you."

"A bath?"

"It’s used to strengthen the body. The ingredients are different from those used to treat injuries. They can nourish your muscles, improve your condition, and help prepare you for training."

He sat forward as she continued.

"It won’t make you enormously stronger, and it won’t replace the years you’ve missed. But it can give you a better start."

"I’ll do it."

"You don’t need to answer so quickly. It’s painful and some children usually run from such baths."

"I want to."

His hands had loosened against his knees.

"Even a little stronger is better than this. I know I’ll have to work hard before I can even think about fighting Blackmoon."

"Then you’ll have to eat, too."

He glanced at the tray.

"I’ll try."

Celeste sighed.

"Give me two or three days to gather the ingredients and arrange everything."

"Thank you, Saintess."

"In the meantime, why don’t you see some of the city? I’ll send one of my trusted guards with you."

Rowan looked toward the window again.

"You’ve been watching that street for two days," she added. "Spending all your time shut in here isn’t good for you. You could at least find out where it leads."

He considered the suggestion, then nodded.

"All right. Thank you."

Celeste stood and moved toward the door.

"I’ll have the guard come by later. And Rowan?"

"Yes?"

"If there’s something you think you could eat, tell the maids. It doesn’t have to be what they’ve brought."

He looked down at the meal.

"Some soup, maybe."

"I’ll ask them."

She gave him a warmer smile before stepping out and closing the door behind her.