Chapter 3: Talents

       It has now been three years since that eventful day, I am now fourteen years old, taller and my wavy white hair has grown past my shoulder. I think I'm starting to like my hair in a longer fashion. After going through Léam’s rip we arrived at his villa-like home which happens to be located deep in another forest called the Forest of Lyra. The forest I died in is called the Dark Forest. Our parents had cautioned us about going there. Our village, Sankther, was located a few kilometers from it. There should have been a barrier to keep beasts out. But for some reason, it wasn’t there.

       Looking at Léam’s villa-like home, I was astonished. The villa is a nice ten bedroom house, secluded by the thicket surrounding it. The building structure of the villa was strange, to say the least, it contained many windows with a long spacious yard.

       After I had fully recovered, Léam immediately started my training. These past three years Léam has been training me to move faster or as fast as my young body permits me. I am also stronger than before, but Léam doesn’t seem one bit impressed. He is always going on about how I can’t stop training when it hurts.

       “When it hurts, that’s your body telling you that the warmup has ended, You Fuck” said Léam when I tried to stop training because of the pain. “If you truly want to improve, then push past those limits. Every day your body will require more to get to the point where it hurts. That just means that you are getting stronger, and it now takes more to maintain. Once you pass the maintaining threshold- your muscles will hurt, and your second wind will begin. That’s when your effort counts. “

       “Well Fuck me, that means that it will never stop hurting” I complained.

       “Stupid girl, do you know what it means to be tough?”

       “What? Does it mean that I need to get accustomed to the pain and it will suddenly stop hurting after my body assimilates to it?” I replied with a sassy tone.

       “If you attack someone and they respond with “it doesn’t hurt” What do you think that means?”

       I squint and glance left to right awkwardly. “Either they are lying, or it doesn’t fucking hurt.”

       “You need to see deeper You Fuck. That is like a mantra or something they need to tell themselves, as well as others to remind themselves that they can tolerate it. They can use it as a challenge or as a mockery, it doesn’t matter. It always means the same. I can tolerate this.”

       “So, someone saying it doesn’t hurt is always more for them than for you?” I asked to confirm.

       “To be tough is to realize that pain will be a part of you forever and that you know you can tolerate it without complaint.”

       Yeah, I know he is right most of the time, but man does he like being all philosophical.

       “One must treat the body and mind as one.” he says “just as your body grows stronger so should your mind. Discipline and knowledge are your biggest allies.” blah blah fucking blah..

       He is quite demanding, but I shoulder it because I feel indebted to him for my resurrection. My daily training consists of weight training, while learning psychology, a shit ton of cardio while discussing philosophy with him, and the strangest of all the things he has me do is breathing exercises. At first, I argued over the cardio part. I believed that he was exaggerating the amount we were doing every day. I remember that my uncle Charles and uncle Jun used to argue if cardio was necessary or not to hone the body. Uncle Charles ended up proving that you can get faster results and a prettier body without cardio.

       “It’s not beauty that we are working for.” is what Léam responded to that.

        “Cardio is energy, the body can’t have a lot of stamina without cardio. Power flows through the breath.”

       He didn’t let me pry anymore after that, dismissing me by saying that he will teach me more in time. I think he is full of himself at times but can’t argue with his strength. I asked him once if he was going to teach me magic as strong as the S rank Mages in this country. He looked at me with a funny looking grin that made him look like he was constipated. I’m sure he thought he looked cool by the way he responded.

       “Their magic is closer to a prayer” he said, “what I’m going to teach you is power to command and bend to your will.”

       As things are right now, I don’t see him teaching me magic anytime soon. He hasn’t even taught me how to properly fight yet. The good news is that after I finish this run, Léam said he will start to teach me how to use my undiscovered talent. He said that it’s my foundation into speeding up my intake in experiences and different kinds of knowledge.

       ‘Well, Heli, let’s push it!’ I thought, pumping myself up.

       As soon as I finished. I got an hour to rest, eat, and clean myself.

       “Alright I’m ready. Let’s fucking do this.”

       I hope my talent is something awesome like awareness or powerful intuition. I want something that will make me unique, and it will end those stupid comments of being a puppet who just copies and does what is told. No longer will they think I don’t have an original thought of my own. No wait, it’s probably something dark. When I asked him why he chose me without even knowing my name, he said because he liked how dark my aura was. He said that my despair was something he could use. It was not too much to keep me frozen, but enough to get me desperate in order to move. Perhaps it’s my pessimistic view of this world and how easily detached I am to most things. Nothing can truly shackle me.

       He he he. Yes, that’s it.

       “Heli... HELI! Are you fucking listening, You Fuck?” said Léam with an annoyed expression. That snapped me out from my daydreaming.

       “Sorry, what did you say?” I asked.

       “I was explaining what a talent is.”

       “Can you start over?”

       “Perhaps you are not ready yet. We might need to work more on discipline to get you out of your distractions.”

       “Please continue. I was just excited and wondering what my talent was.”

       And with a long-annoyed sigh Léam continued “Have you ever heard people compliment someone’s achievement by saying “You are so talented, you sing very well, or you are a good fighter, etcetera?”

       “Yeah, all the time, but I feel that compliment undermines the effort it took to hone their skills.”

       “Exactly those are skills, the people that call them talents are inconsiderate fucks. Who try to justify someone’s achievement by calling them talents as an excuse for why some could reach those achievements while they didn’t and or don’t.”

       “If that’s so. Then what is talent?”

       “Talent is barer. It’s the god given ability to learn. Not everyone has the same talent which is why I believe that the current education system is idiotic and ignorant. They are trying to make everyone learn through similar means without categorizing people’s talents. Most think everyone learns through analyzing theories, strategies, and so on. They implement a bit of practice for better understanding and when some don’t learn, they think it’s just that some are not as capable as others.”

       “That’s when the comparisons to make themselves and their loved ones feel better begins, isn’t it?” I added. Remembering my family. I wanted to cry but I took long slow breaths to keep my composure.

       “Yes, the weak humiliate the one that wasn’t participating with an advantage.” Replied Léam.

       “What categories are there, and which one am I in?” I asked while pretending to be calm as I suppressed my eagerness to know.

       “I won’t go over them all because it might confuse you. You know, in the case you like the idea of having a different one. You first need to know that we can use all the talents, but one is just more dominant in each individual. We will start with three for now.” Proclaims Léam.

       “How many are there?” I ask.

       “Seven.”

       “The first one you understand more, and for now, we will call it ‘The Inspector.’ This one helps the individual learn through theories and experimentations. The second one we will call it ’Intuition.’ This is a rare one. It has more to do with sensations. This is where lots of psychic abilities come from, including and not only limiting to, the sixth sense. And now we have yours, the one potentially capable of amassing everything. We will call it ‘The Imitator.’” He said this as if it was something grand.

       “…. Wait, what did you say mine was?” I ask with a bit of irritation leaking out of me.

       “The imitator.”

       “At the risk of sounding stupid” I said.

       “With you it’s not a risk, it’s a certainty” Léam replied.

       “So, what does that one do?” I asked with a super boring tone.

       “You copy.”

       “DAMN IT” I yell “YOU’RE FUCKING WITH ME AREN’T YOU?”

       I threw a small little tantrum while Léam stared at me with a stoic expression and just as quickly, I tried to calm myself using the breath technique I was taught. I took a slow deep breath and when I felt I couldn’t inhale any more. I inhaled a tiny bit more, then I proceeded to release it slowly. After I calmed down, I asked “Sooo… it’s not my detachment?”

       “The fuck are you on about?” Replied Léam.

       “N-Nothing, never mind.”

       “Did you have some expectation or something you were leaning to?” Léam asked with a grin.

       “I just thought it would be something dark and powerful, you know?” I responded embarrassed.

       “Talents aren’t dark or light. Where the fuck did you get that idea.” asked Léam. I looked away, half embarrassed.

       “Don’t tell me you thought…...? Noo…” chuckled Léam.

       I know that I shouldn’t have been so immature. I shouldn’t have run away, but he was fucking laughing. The only thing I heard him say after my stupid tantrum was:

       “We will address this again, once you have been able to accept it.”

       I don’t want to be an imitator. I hated to be accused of copying. It made me feel like I was just someone’s shadow. Everywhere I went people were always complimented for being unique and original. Whenever I copied someone’s creation whether it was an art piece, a carving, or a clay model, I was always told how bland I was for not being able to use my imagination. They loved to remind me how I lacked creativity. They even accused me of trying to steal someone’s credit. In the end I stopped imitating and people ended up accusing me of it, nonetheless. Like I was branded the shadow as well as the puppet and nothing I would do could change it.

       The next day while doing my cardio, Léam decided that instead of another philosophical debate, we will instead address my issue with copying.

       “I don’t think we should waste time with your self-pity. This is the most important weapon in your arsenal, and you are avoiding it because it’s not what you had desired?”

       “It’s not just that,” I replied.

       “This is about fighting with your strengths. This is not about your exalted ideal self.” Said Léam

       “Look, you don’t know what I’ve been through with the subject of imitation.”

       With a bored expression Léam replied, “I could imagine, but I don’t need to hear it. I know that you were surrounded by ignorant fucks. It’s obvious that they- “

       “It all started when I was five and started attending daycare with my cousin.” I said, interrupting him on purpose.

       “Oh, for fucks sake” Léam remarked.

        I Info-ed dumped. My whole backstory as revenge for mocking me. I knew no better way than this. To annoy that fucker. He even tried creating rips to get away, but I stuck to him like glue. Going through rip after rip. I didn’t know how good getting something off your chest felt. This was so uplifting. It felt even better when I saw the defeated look on his face. YES. Léam was not the same for days after that. He didn’t do his philosophical rants, he used shorter answers, and talked with a quieter more annoyed tone.

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