The week passed faster than Uma thought it would
And somehow
she never lost that buzz under her skin
Every morning she woke up like it was camp day
Cleaned her board till the wood shone
Repacked her bag four separate times
Even folded her scarf like it was going into a warzone
Serosa tried to play it cool
Acted like she didn't notice the countdown Uma had carved into the windowsill
Didn't mention the way Uma kept checking the road
Didn't tease her once
Not even when she caught her pretending to wave at imaginary future friends
The morning finally came
The cart pulled up right as the sun hit the top of the trees
Creaky wheels
Dust trailing behind it
Three other kids already waiting in the back
Nervous energy clinging to all of them
Uma was already at the door
Boots laced
Bag slung over her shoulder like she was going off to war
She bounced on her heels
Didn't even try to hide it
Serosa stood behind her with a second bag
Packed fuller
Zipped tighter
More snacks than any child would reasonably need
She didn't say anything at first
Just walked up and started adjusting Uma's scarf
Again
And again
Then stepped back
"You got everything?"
Her voice was steady
But her hands kept twitching
Uma nodded
Tight and excited
Like if she spoke she'd explode
Serosa crouched just enough to meet her eyes
"Alright
Stay close to the group
Don't eat anything glowing
Don't sign anything you can't read
And if anyone starts something—don't finish it
Just walk away
You hear me?"
Uma gave a tiny thumbs-up
Her grin couldn't be contained
She raised her board
Wrote:
I ' L L
B E
F I N E
Serosa stared at that for a second
Then hugged her
Not quick
Not light
Not even pretend-casual
It was a real mom hug
She let go just as Hamron came around the corner
Dusting spot off his sleeves like he'd run from the forge to make it in time
"Still here?" he said
Grinning
Serosa looked at him
Then at Uma
"Barely"
Hamron leaned down
Ruffled Uma's hair
"You see someone twice your size
Challenge them early
Get it over with"
Serosa rolled her eyes
"Don't you dare—"
"Hey she asked for advice"
"I didn't see her ask anything"
"Body language"
Uma was already scribbling
F I G H T
T H E
B I G
O N E
F I R S T
G O T I T
Hamron gave her a proud nod
Serosa just sighed into her hands
The cart driver called out
"Let's move!"
Uma didn't hesitate
She turned
Climbed up
Flashed a smug little wave
And didn't look back
The cart rolled off
Dust swirling behind it
Sunlight catching the edge of her scarf
Serosa stood there
Arms crossed
Eyes still fixed on the road
Hamron glanced over
"You alright?"
She took a long breath
Folded her arms tighter
"…Yeah, Just already bored"
The cart rolled on for hours stopping at dull little villages picking up people Uma barely looked at. A girl with knife eyes. A boy with too many opinions on bowstrings. Nobody worth noting. She leaned back in her corner bored out of her skull. Then came the fifth stop.
The village looked like a misplaced barnyard and the guy who got on looked even more out of place. He wasn't some twitchy kid or fresh-faced hopeful. He looked thirty. Not grizzled but lived-in. Warm brown coat, rough hands, tied-back hair, a scar on his neck like he forgot it was there. He climbed aboard with a grin and a bag he half-chucked up like it insulted him.
"Morning travelers," he said like he'd been invited. "Name's Harin. This the rowdy cart?"
Nobody answered. Nobody glared either.
He plopped down, adjusted once, then started talking again. "Alright let's get to know each other. Who's from where? What weapon do you hate using but secretly love? Who's gonna cry first in training?"
Uma didn't look up. She already hated how likable he sounded.
No one spoke but no one stopped him either. He kept going like the silence was just a dramatic pause. Told some story about falling through a rope bridge during a delivery job and swimming upstream with a satchel full of scrolls and a trout that kept biting his thigh. Said the trout won. Ended the story by saying he never trusted rivers again.
Uma side-eyed him. He didn't even flinch.
Eventually he leaned back, closed his eyes, looked like he was ready to nap. She let her guard down for a second before he mumbled, eyes still closed, "Did you know wind drag shifts around carts? That's why the north wind usually smells like old bread this time of year."
She stared at the roof of the cart. 'This man doesn't shut up. This man doesn't know how to shut up. This man doesn't even need an audience.'
But no one told him to stop. Even the flute guy nodded off. The murder-face girl blinked slower. Harin just kept muttering casually like his words were part of the weather.
Uma leaned her head back and sighed.
This was going to be a very long ride.
After a while of cart riding Harin stretched with a grunt and cracked one eye open before leaning sideways and scooting down the bench like a man casually invading personal space out of habit more than malice. He stopped next to Uma and nodded once like he was already mid-conversation.
"You've been real quiet" he said with a grin "Mysterious type huh?"
Uma raised her brows and tilted her head just slightly
"Oh come on don't leave me hanging—what's your story?"
She lifted her board and started writing, slow deliberate strokes. Before she could finish, Harin reached over—not snatching but definitely without asking—and took it from her hands
"Hey this yours? What is this a sketch pad?" He held it up squinting at the chalk lines "Wait no these aren't doodles—are you a poet? Artist? Secret war tactician?"
Uma reached for it but he leaned back casually, holding it higher like he was still reading. He wasn't mocking her—not really—but he was tall. Really tall. And she was… not.
She gave him a look like she was about to kick his shin
He blinked down at her like he just realized something, eyes flicking from her lips to the chalk to her hands poised mid-grab
"Oh wait" he said softer now "You don't talk do you?"
She shook her head once
'No duh or I'd be asking for my board back'
He looked at the board again, finally handing it back without hesitation
"Got it—mute not shy. Sorry little lady I wasn't trying to be a dick" he said and leaned his elbow on the cart frame like nothing happened
Uma wrote quickly and flipped the board up:
Y O U
A R E
T A L K A T I V E
Harin snorted "You'd be shocked how many people survive because I won't shut up. Makes me harder to stab when they're laughing."
She raised a brow
He held up two fingers like a scout's honor
"I swear. Talking saved my ass more than armor ever did."
Then, after a beat:
"So what's a mute little lady doing on a training cart? You here to show us all up?"
Uma didn't answer right away
'You have no idea'
Just leaned back and wrote:
Y O U ' L L
S E E
Harin grinned wide "Now that's what I like to hear"
The cart rolled to a slow creaking stop just as the sky started to lighten a little—still mostly dark, but that soft navy color that meant dawn was stretching its legs
The driver called back with a grunt "End of the line for this batch"
Wood groaned as boots hit dirt and everyone started filing out half-asleep
Uma moved to stand but Harin was already there—off the cart in one motion, then turning to offer his hand like they were stepping into a ballroom instead of a muddy field
She raised a brow at him
He just smirked "C'mon little lady—every princess deserves a proper landing"
Uma hesitated for a second… then placed her hand in his
He didn't yank or pull
Just gently guided her down like she weighed nothing
She landed light on her feet, but didn't let go right away
'Okay… I could get used to that'
She gave his hand a single firm shake like a handshake wrapped in sarcasm
He just winked and stepped aside
They weren't alone
At the edge of the field stood a woman
Stiff posture
Long silver hair streaked with strands of bright gold, tied into a precise braid that fell over her shoulder like a rope that could strangle someone
She wore a crisp uniform—black and steel grey—with accents of deep blue that matched the sapphire of her eyes
Eyes that scanned them all like weapons not worth unsheathing yet
The crowd quieted fast
"Welcome" she said flat and sharp "I am Silva. I'll be your instructor. And unless you have a death wish or a god complex—don't waste my time"
Harin leaned over to Uma and whispered "She seems fun"
Uma didn't smile
Didn't write
But the look she gave him said
'We're so dead'
Silva stood still as stone, hands behind her back, eyes cutting across the group like she was counting flaws
"I don't care what village you came from" she said "You're here now and for the next month, you belong to me"
Her voice didn't rise or strain
It didn't need to
"I will break you down and rebuild you into something barely competent. You will sweat, bleed, probably cry, and if you survive long enough to stand at the end, you might even be worth calling 'decent'"
Uma leaned back slightly
'This lady's got the emotional range of a guillotine'
Silva kept going
"Drills every morning. Sparring before meals. Weapons forms. Conditioning. No shortcuts. No whining. And if you so much as breathe wrong during night watch—I'll personally bury you in your own boots"
Uma wasn't even writing this down
She just blinked slowly
Mentally checked out by sentence three
'Gods she doesn't shut up'
Then Silva clapped once
Loud
Sharp
"GO!"
Everyone else heard something before that
Some cue
Some direction
Because the second her hand dropped, the whole group exploded forward like race dogs let off leash
Uma jolted
'Wait wait wait—what are we doing—?!'
Too late
People were sprinting
Rushing to a long table stacked with weapons—swords, spears, axes, staves—laid out like some war-themed buffet
By the time Uma got there—panting, weaving through taller bodies—the last guy was already lifting a short sword over his shoulder with a grin
She skidded to a stop
Looked at the table
Empty
Except
One thing
Right in the middle
A coiled rope with a dart-shaped head
Bright red
A weapon that looked more like a mistake than a choice
Uma stared at it
Then glanced around
Everyone else was already backing off, sizing each other up with shiny blades and confident grips
She reached out slowly
Picked up the rope dart
Held it like it might bite
'What the hell is this anime shit'
From across the field, Silva watched
And didn't say a word