The next day, Atticus woke up and went through his normal routine before heading to the morning training session as usual.
He met Nate and Lucas on the training ground, and they exchanged brief greetings with him.
Nate, after losing to Erik, seemed to have been humbled. He was not as boastful as usual, appearing calm and quiet, occasionally looking at Erik with determination.
Lucas, though, was happy about Nate’s changed attitude. He had grown frustrated with always having to rein him in whenever he wanted to do something foolish. Despite this change being at the cost of Nate’s loss, he was still glad about his friend’s change.
Atticus briefly shifted his gaze away from the duo and scanned the training grounds, searching for a particular red-eyed girl.
However, no matter how much he looked, he couldn’t find her. Despite waiting until 6:00 AM, Aurora had yet to appear.
‘She missed today’s training session too,’ Atticus noted.
At exactly 6:00 AM, Elias as usual walked into the training grounds and immediately commenced their training session.
Throughout the course, Atticus was completely lost in thought, struggling to understand the nagging feeling that persisted in his consciousness.
Despite being distracted, he still reached the starting line first, leaving the rest of the trainees in his dust.
Upon reaching the finish line, Atticus began walking away before Elias even spoke. Elias didn’t stop him, seeing no need to do so.
After the training session, Atticus returned to his room and took a shower. But despite feeling refreshed physically, something continued to bother his consciousness.
In an effort to dispel the unsettling feeling, he decided to train. Upon entering the training room, he sat down cross-legged, closed his eyes, and began meditating, attempting to clear his mind.
After a few minutes, he opened his eyes in frustration.
‘What’s wrong with me?’ he thought.
He closed his eyes again and tried to focus inwardly, repeating in his mind, ‘Concentrate, concentrate.’
However, after a few moments without any progress, the nagging feeling still persisted.
“Fuck,” he muttered and stood up, leaving his room.
Later that night, Aurora, with her usual struggling gait, leaned on the walls of the camp building to support herself as she made her way toward her room.
As she reached the end of one building, she paused, looking at another building a few feet away. She took a deep breath and encouraged herself, ‘You can do it, Aurora.’
She left the support of the building and began walking toward the next, her legs wobbling, each step causing pain to course through her body.
Before she got halfway there, a voice broke through the silence, “Do you want to keep doing this?” The voice asked, emanating from the space between the two buildings.
Aurora’s eyes widened. She always waited until nighttime to go to her room for two reasons: to rest after the grueling training and to avoid other trainees seeing her battered form.
Aurora couldn’t help but wonder, ‘Who?’
She quickly turned and saw the last person she wanted to see her in this state—a boy with spiky, mane-like hair and blue eyes, Atticus.
Immediately upon seeing him, she stood upright, not wanting to show weakness. However, even that small movement sent a wave of pain through her body, causing her face to scrunch up momentarily.
She quickly composed herself, concealing the pain deep inside.
But had she been able to hide it from Atticus? No. With his heightened perception, he would be ashamed to miss something so obvious.
Atticus repeated his question, “Do you want to keep doing this?” while looking directly into her eyes.
Aurora’s heart skipped a beat, ‘He knows.’
Throughout her life, she had been regarded as a genius and pampered. The only significant hardship she could recall was her mother’s death when she was young. But even then, her father had always been there for her, providing her with everything she needed.
This was even more evident when she awakened her transcendent talent at the age of 7. She could never forget the happiness on Rowan’s face that day.
Every fight or spar she had engaged in with people her age or even slightly older had always resulted in her victory. Only the top talents in the family reached the intermediate- rank at the age of 10, and she was one of them.
So when she came to the camp, she was filled with pride. However, it all changed when she lost to Atticus. It was a first for her, a feeling she had never experienced before. She started regarding him as her rival after that, someone she had to defeat.
The last person she wanted to witness her in such a state was her self-proclaimed rival.
Then Atticus’s question finally registered in her mind, ‘Do you want to keep doing this?’
Immediately, a whirlwind of emotions washed over her—confusion, understanding and eventually anger.
In anger, she shouted, her voice trembling with fury, “Do you think I want this!?” Her words pierced the stillness of the night, the intensity of the moment escalating.
Despite the excruciating pain coursing through her body, she continued to walk toward Atticus, her voiced laced with fury.
“It’s all your fault! Dad was always so nice to me before, so caring. It was when you came that all this started!” Her voice grew strained as she attempted to wipe away the tears streaming down her face with her sleeves.
With each painful step, she reached Atticus, poking his chest gently with her finger as she accused him, “This is your fault!” Her voice quivered, coming out in sobs.
Atticus remained unmoved, his stoic expression belying the turmoil within.
Aurora’s anger gradually gave way to profound sadness. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, her head bowed using her fist to hit his chest gently as she whispered, “It’s your fault, or else Dad would never…”
Atticus, as if he hadn’t heard her, simply repeated his question, “Do you want to keep doing this?”
Aurora paused, her head still lowered. She wiped her tears with her sleeves and sniffled before finally looking up, meeting Atticus’s gaze directly.
She uttered, “I don’t need your pity,” and without waiting for a response, she turned and began to struggle away.
Atticus watched her departure in silence, making no attempt to stop her.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
