The Circle warriors were unstoppable. They walked for twelve hours a day, and only stopped at the end of that because Ren and his men were exhausted and winded. At night, they stayed awake, speaking silently. Sarno and his soldiers were incredibly fit and could march further than Renado’s group—but they at least slept. Kazra and Virn seemed to have no need of rest whatsoever.
The rolling hills of the Raderan Highland passed them by, day-by-day. They passed a few small villages, a dozen weaving brooks and streams. They heard the cries of a Vorin buck for about a week, before leaving its territory behind.
Every other day, the group would hike a less-substantial distance in order to allow time for training in the cool evenings. The majority of the training was conducted between Sarno’s men and Ren’s, including the leaders of each party. After a few hours of different drills and quick bouts, Kazra or Virn would enter the ring themselves.
Ren had never seen anything like it. As fast as he could swing at Kazra, she could easily have stepped out of the way. Or, even worse, she could have stepped right round him. Her lightest jabs with a sparring sword left Ren bruised and knocked from his feet. Furthermore, she had once asked the entire group to help her practice her other senses. For this, she had asked they surround her, while she was blindfolded. She did not attack any of them, but accurately defended herself if they attacked one at a time. She could hear their footsteps, no matter how quiet, or the swoosh of air severed by their dull wooden practice swords.
Virn and Kazra never trained against each other, Ren had noticed. When their alternating day schedule had been decided upon for training, he had assumed sparring between the two enhanced warriors would be the only apt way for them to hone their skills. Nonetheless, it was never mentioned, and they often avoided one another when it came time to fight.
Furthermore, Virn had uttered scarcely a hundred words since their departure from Vagren. He kept to himself, while Kazra would join in the jokes of Sarno and his men, or the discussions of Ren’s previous reconnaissance in Ith.
One day, as they sat around the campfire, Ren asked about it. “Is everything alright with Virn?” he asked Kazra, as they sat near the others.
Virn sat up straighter and looked at him.
“What do you mean?” Kazra asked, confused.
“He hardly speaks,” Ren said. “Did something happen to—”
“I speak,” Virn said, blandly. “I just have nothin’ to say.”
“Did we do something to offend you?” Asar asked, leaning back on his outstretched palms. Their camp rested against the corner of a rocky ridge, casting flickering lights between the gaps under his arms that looked like enormous eyes on the stone face behind him.
Virn shook his head. “Nothing particular.”
“Virn has had a rough time with the Circle,” Kazra said. “It’s best not to antagonize that thought further. He’s got our back though, have no doubt.”
Virn pursed his lips, nodded, and leaned back against the tree trunk behind him. The short exchange did not resume, but when the groups separated to curl up in their cots, Ren asked his men if they had any ideas what Kazra might have been referring to. They knew as much about the Circle as Renado did, but altogether, they came up with a few ideas. Maybe the warriors of the Circle were born with their abilities, via magic, and Virn had been stolen from his family to be raised as a warrior. Or maybe the training process was so rigorous that it had left these warriors dazed or damaged in their minds. Ren hoped it was not this option—despite Kazra’s assurances to have no doubt, Virn could be incredibly dangerous as a proverbial wild card.
Ren fell asleep slowly that night, wondering if whatever affected Virn in such a way also affected Kazra, albeit without him noticing. Instead, she reminded him vaguely of his sister Antha, but with generally better spirits. He tried to distract himself from thoughts of his lost home and family with thoughts of Ira, but he felt it only partially worked and he fell asleep to bittersweet dreams.