Soul of a Human

While Mor was honing his skills and training his body, with the single-minded intent to return home as fast as possible, Orth had his own things to worry about. The second he stepped off the glider on his home Isle, the next step of his father's scheme revealed itself. Well, more like himself, as Orth's oldest brother was waiting at the military airfield for them, he was dressed in the standard military uniform of the Soul-kin, consisting of a short robe and fitting pants embroidered with a bunch of symbols and rank insignias. While the Soul-kin lacked any physical intimidation, the uniform cut is fitted to substitute for it, giving them an imposing posture, even while lacking the body to make true of it.

Orgen saluted his father, both hands close to his body, his posture perfectly straight. He relaxed his stance when his father gave him a nod. Orth rolled his eyes at the display, then wondered if Clare would like to see him in such a uniform.

"Father! It's a pleasure to see you, sir." Orgen greeted his father, completely ignoring Orth.

"Good to see you, too." Lord Obsidian replied.

"Then you do indeed want me to take care of little Orth?" Orgen asked, and his father nodded, while Orth glared at his brother for being called "little".

True, he was a handspan smaller than his brother, but age would remedy that sooner or later, just as the difference in magic power. Orth was still in his growth spurt, so he was catching up day by day. Also, the physical training he had adopted gave him a more considerable growth of his reservoir. At this thought, he looked a bit down. If only Mor would still be around if his magic "puberty," for lack of a better word, would have started, he would quickly become a fearsome foe. He might have even caught up to the high nobles in pure magic power and adding his physical talents… Orth shuddered at the implications.

Orth's little musings hadn't gone unnoticed by his father and brother. His father smiled, an assured smile, while Orgen sighed.

"Orth, no need to look so depressed. You only have to endure until your school year starts again."

"Well, then, I need to return to the mansion. Orgen, I leave your brother in your capable hands. You're the most capable master we have," Lord Obsidian said. After another salute from his oldest and a forced smile from Orth, he entered the glider again and left the boys to their own devices.

Orgen waited until the glider was out of sight, then dropped the nice brother act.

"Come on, crybaby, let's see if I can make something useful out of you. First, let's get the little boy a place to sleep."

Orth stared at his big brother in annoyance, then shrugged.

"If you say that." He stated in an uncaring voice.

Orgen balked at the uncaring tone and suppressed his growing anger. This little upstart would learn to respect his betters, even if he had to beat him physically for it. Still, Orgen had to adhere to his father's orders, so he brought Orth to the quarters of future officers and showed his little brother the room he would be sharing with another officer in training, just as their father had ordered.

"Here's your bed. Throw in your stuff and change into the training fatigues. NOW!" Orgen ordered with a shout.

Orth sighed, threw his bag on the bed, and waved his brother out of the room. "I don't want a pervert to see me naked." He reasoned, making his brother even more angry.

After his brother left, Orth quickly changed into the loose training fatigues designed for someone a bit older and bigger than him. His sleeves, pant legs, and shirt were too long. A very observant person might notice that while the length was too long, the shirt's width wasn't as much.

When Orth appeared before his brother, Orgen, of course, noticed nothing. Instead, he laughed at his younger brother's ridiculous appearance.

"Are you done?" Orth asked, annoyed, trying not to lose his pants.

Instead of answering, Orgen waved Orth along while giggling continuously. His humor seemed to last until they reached the first training field, where a bunch of older Soul-kin were doing "endurance training".

"Drop the weight and gather here!" Orgen ordered, and most took off the specially weighted robes, leaving them on the ground wherever giving Orth the feeling he would be ordered to gather them all later. Well, it's not that he was really complaining because this fitted his planned training regime well. He had talked at length with the late Mor about the possibilities while they were pouring over interesting spells, stories, or simply hanging out.

Here, Mor's human buddy was of great help because while Mor wanted to be a complete powerhouse to compensate for his apparent lack of confidence, Orth wanted something else. For him, endurance and flexibility were vital. His granite armor spell would provide strength and power, and this spell was also the reason for his decision. Training his flexibility also gave him a greater degree of body control, which in turn made his armor more responsive. Because of that, he even started to reduce the thickness of the armor on the less endangered spaces, giving him more mobility.

It took only a moment for everyone to gather. The nine officers in training saluted by standing ramrod straight, their hands on their sides, until Orgen gave an appreciative nod.

"Everyone! This is my little brother Orth, who will be joining your group for the duration of his school break! Treat him like any other trainee." Orgen stated with a sly grin.

Orth looked at the other trainees, and while all eyes were on him, one mustered him more than the others. The only woman in the group looked at the boy almost disgusted, which tipped Orth off as to who she might be even while he saw her for the first time.

"Well, now that you are all acquainted, let us test the strength of our nestling." Orgen continued. "Trainee Orth, get a robe!"

Orth shrugged and walked off, picking up the closest of the dropped robes and wondering why it was so light. With his back turned to the others, they interpreted his hesitation as struggling, and a low giggle started.

"Now come here." Orgen ordered, and Orth obliged, slowly walking back to the group.

Again, his slow movement was interpreted as struggling with the weight, and the amusement grew, though no one outright laughed.

"Put on the armored robe and walk three laps! No magic allowed." Orgen gave the subsequent order, and one of the other trainees flinched.

Orth nodded, then put on the weighted robe, which counted as heavy armor in the Soul-kin military. Those robes weighing an additional 5 kg were used to "test" physical fitness. You would have to walk a certain distance without a time limit to be deemed fit enough. What Orth didn't know was that the standard distance for officer trainees was at most two laps, each consisting of 1000 meters. This whole thing was designed to make the young Soul-kin look bad.

"How much time do I have?" Orth asked, not familiar with the exercise.

"If you're that sure of yourself, how about you do it in an hour?" Orgen said smugly.

Orth looked confused, then tried to figure out if he had misheard and asked. "An hour?"

His big brother smiled in assured victory and nodded. Then his look grew annoyed when Orth shrugged, got ready, and started.

Orth quickly got bored of just walking and started a light jog. The weighted robe was a bit in his way but wasn't that much of an impairment. While he continued his run, his mind wandered off, thinking about something he had done with his late friend. Something they called a half marathon, which they would do once a month after lessons, taking two to three hours.

While he reminisced about the good times with his friend, Orth didn't notice that he quickly had gathered pace and was no longer jogging but running at his usual pace. Finishing the third round at the twenty-minute mark, then thoughtlessly continuing, not noticing the stunned stares of the older Soul-kin.

After a while, he started to get a bit tired. He then idly wondered how far he had run before remembering that he only had to do three "rounds". Orth finished his last lap and returned to the waiting group, only slightly out of breath.

"I said, no magic!" Orgen shouted at his brother.

"I didn't use any," Orth replied, confused.

"How else did you do over five laps in half an hour? You would have to use magic, or else it's impossible!" Orgen continued his tirade, and the other Soul-kin nodded.

In the end, Orgen pulled his brother away, dismissed the other trainees, and gave the boy a furious talk about disobeying orders. Orth took it with a bored expression, enraging his brother more and making the dressing down take longer. When his brother finally ran out of steam, Orth was sent back to his quarter and reminded not to cheat in training anymore, or Orgen would tell their father.

When the boy returned, his roommate was the woman, just as he had guessed. But of the disgust from before, nothing was visible. Instead, she smiled at him and purred. "I know you didn't cheat, and that really impressed me. How about we see what else your incredible endurance can accomplish?" She patted next to her on her bed, inviting the boy closer, but one look at her half-revealed body was enough for Orth to state simply.

"Good for you. I'm going to sleep."

The woman's malnourished body was no competition to Clare's well-defined and growing figure. Orth's apparent immunity against her allures made the woman leave in a huff. She slammed the door shut with all the meager force she could muster and didn't return until the next morning, stinking of something Orth couldn't place. He had a good guess and was disgusted at the idea.