35th of Spring 515AV
Timothy strolled down the winding stairs at a leisurely pace. He didn’t often come down into The Within anymore, except for bathing. Until, in an determined mood, he’d gone out and met Mizra Aqdas at Riverfall’s training facility. The Akalak hadn’t spared him and he still felt stiff from the exercise.
It was only after he’d done his share of tasks at The Sanctuary that he would flee into The Within. The cool and quiet of the rocks provided shelter from sunlight and prying eyes. A place to collect his thoughts and work on his secret skills. One of those secret skills was physical exercise. During the training sessions after their first meeting, Mizra had made clear that Timothy’s wiry arms and ‘cushion’ stomach were ill-fitting of a warrior. Having paid close attention to the Akalak’s instruction, Timothy had come down into The Within’s training room with a pillow under his arm.
It would be a waste to soak his good clothes in sweat and so he had slipped into a slightly tattered, oversized sleeveless shirt and wrinkled knee-height pants. Only the Benshira bracelet dangling from his wrist was the same as always.
He lay down on the cool floor. The air was still clear. Soon, he knew, it would smell of sweat. Interlacing his fingers behind his head, he took a deep breath in preparation. He brought his knees closer to his body and lifted his head forward. The tension in his stomach was immediate but brief as he settled his head down.
One, he counted in his head. Laughing, Mizra had said, also trained the belly. There hadn’t been much too laugh at though. His lips rarely broke from the stern, straight line they were settled in. With his newfound determination to become as strong and resourceful as any Akalak boy his age had come an attitude of indifference and social reclusion. He knew the people at The Sanctuary meant well, but none could grant him the time of day. Deeming it too demanding to ask for attention, he simply did as they and spent swathes of time in his own company.
“-Seventeen, eighteen…” he murmured. It felt like his stomach was being kneaded like dough, only every time his chin pressed against his kneecaps, his belly tightened and the next sit-up would be doubly painful.
I have to make it to thirty, he kept reminding himself. Just a few more…