I fell in love with you in my new life

POV - Luahn

El sonido del metal contra el metal me era tan familiar como el viento susurrando entre los árboles.

Y sin embargo, ese día, la primera vez que volví a cruzar las puertas de la Academia de Guerreros Hypnos después del accidente, sentí como si todos esos ruidos fueran de alguna manera más agudos.

No las espadas.

Sino las miradas.

Los muros de piedra, las salas de entrenamiento, los tableros con los nombres de los mejores espadachines del año... todo parecía igual.

Pero yo no era el mismo.

Había pasado una semana desde el ritual.

Siete días desde que mi cuerpo casi se había roto por dentro, cubierto de vendas.

Desde que sentí las dos energías colisionando dentro de mí, tratando de destrozarse mutuamente.

Y ahora... ahora todos lo sabían.

Sabían que el mestizo que se suponía que no tenía ningún poder había despertado la energía Yang.

Y eso, para muchos, era una amenaza.

"Aquí viene", susurraron.

"El chico del desastre".

"¿No deberían sacarlo de aquí?"

"Dicen que le creció cola y orejas de lobo, pero de luz."

"Una ilusión... Qué raro es todo eso."

Ignoré las voces.

No valía la pena detenerme en cada comentario, pero los sentía.

Los ojos.

Pesaban más que el entrenamiento con piedras a la espalda.

A veces era desconfianza.

Otras veces... miedo.

Miedo puro y crudo. Como el miedo que uno tiene a una tormenta que no entiende.

Había quienes se apartaban a mi paso.

Había quienes me seguían con la mirada sin pestañear, y luego estaban quienes esperaban a que explotara de nuevo.

La primera clase del día era técnica de espada.

Me asignaron al grupo intermedio, como siempre.

Pero ese día no había lugar para la rutina.

Cuando entré, Emil y su séquito ya estaban allí.

Emil.

El prodigio de una de las Familias líderes, rápido, carismático, cruel cuando los instructores no miraban.

Y sobre todo, celoso.

"Mira quién ha vuelto..."

Su voz rasgó el aire como un dardo envenenado.

"El hijo del escándalo."

No dije nada.

Apreté la empuñadura de mi espada. Caminé con paso firme hacia el lado izquierdo del círculo, sin querer escuchar su sarcasmo.

«Qué raro que no te hayan expulsado», continuó.

«Quizás sea por lástima. O por política».

Algunos rieron.

No todos.

Pero los suficientes para que supiera que aún tenía poder.

Me giré lentamente hacia él.

«¿Has terminado?».

«¿Disculpa?».

«Te oí. Todos te oímos. ¿Eso fue todo? ¿O tienes más?».

"¿Y si lo hago?"

"Entonces dilo con tu espada."

Un murmullo onduló por la habitación. El instructor apenas ocultó su sorpresa.

"Reto aceptado", dijo con fastidio.

"Espadas de entrenamiento. Un punto."

Se formó el círculo.

Los demás retrocedieron.

Vi a uno de los chicos de Emil sonreír maliciosamente.

Esperaban verme caer como siempre.

Derrotado. Humillado.

Antes del ritual, eso era casi inevitable.

Ahora... yo tampoco sabía qué podía pasar.

Subí la guardia.

Sentí la energía dentro de mí reaccionar. La sentí fluir por mi cuerpo, pero también algo desordenada.

El Yin, suave, serpenteante.

El Yang, como una chispa que se negaba a extinguirse.

Todavía no podía usarlo por completo, algo me bloqueaba y no sabía qué era.

Pero algo había cambiado.

Mis reflejos.

Mi percepción.

Mi centro de equilibrio.

La pelea duró exactamente doce segundos.

Emil cargó con su clásico corte ascendente.

Me giré a su lado.

Apunté mi espada a su punto ciego, que en ese momento era la nuca.

Pero no podía controlar mis movimientos, todavía no, me di cuenta demasiado tarde.

Ahora, mi ataque podría haberle hecho mucho daño, pero al instante siguiente, alguien me agarró la muñeca.

Era el instructor, que estaba a mi lado sujetándome, la punta de mi espada estaba a milímetros del cuello de Emil.

Segundos después, Emil se giró para mirarme con incredulidad, como si no pudiera creerlo.

Recibió un golpe limpio; en una batalla real, habría muerto.

El instructor levantó la mano.

"Punto para Luahn".

Silencio.

Por primera vez, no pudo decir nada.

"Luahn, has progresado mucho.

Pero una cosa, antes de continuar con tu entrenamiento, debes tener control total de tu cuerpo.

Como vi hace un momento, no pudiste controlar tu fuerza; podrías haber herido gravemente a tu compañero, así que por ahora concéntrate en tu cuerpo".

"Bueno, no debería tardar mucho".

Después del entrenamiento, nadie me habló.

Pero tampoco me presionaron.

No me miraron con desprecio.

Ni con la risa burlona, ​​ahora tan común.

Era como si el aire se hubiera suspendido.

No era aceptación.

Ni respeto.

Era incertidumbre.

Y en esta ciudad... la incertidumbre es algo que no había sentido en mucho tiempo.

Esa noche, llegué a casa más cansada por dentro que por fuera.

Mamá me esperaba con una sopa caliente y una sonrisa serena.

"¿Qué tal tu día?"

"...Tranquilo."

Me acarició la cabeza.

A veces el silencio es solo el preludio de una voz que aún no sabe hablar. ¿

Lo leíste?

Sí. En un libro sobre cómo criar niños testarudos.

Sonreí.

Al menos en casa... el silencio era algo más.

Algo agradable.

A comforting one.

*

POV - Emilia

There was something strange about the days following the ritual.

As if the sunlight felt a little colder.

They didn't punish us.

Not me, not Grisel, not Luahn.

But that didn't mean they had forgiven us.

Some said it had been an accident.

Others said it was heresy.

And the most daring... that we had committed a divine act without the Goddess's permission.

In the streets, people greeted me.

But it was no longer the same courtesy.

It was caution.

Distance.

Respect... tinged with fear.

I wondered if Luahn felt the same way.

Surely he did. Although he always said less than he did, it was something Luahn had recently acquired.

We had grown closer again.

We talked to each other, we understood each other with our eyes.

But... we didn't spend as much time together anymore, at least not like before.

Not because we didn't want to.

It was just that our activities no longer coincided.

Sometimes I would watch him train from a distance.

Concentrated in silence.

The Yang energy appeared around him in a slight, intermittent way, like a fire that was unsure of itself.

I had seen him wake up.

I had seen him shine.

And I had also seen him scream.

I never completely forgave myself for pushing him into that.

But I didn't regret it either.

Because that power... although incomplete, was his.

It wasn't stolen, nor was it given to him; it was his.

That night, Mom called me while I was cooking.

"Help me prepare dinner."

"I'm coming."

I was peeling root vegetables when she dropped the first bombshell:

"Grisel visited me today. She asked about you."

"And what did you tell her?"

"That you were swallowing everything without talking about it. Like your father."

"Mom..."

"Don't look at me like that. You're just like him when he locks himself in his 'everything is fine' armor."

I sighed.

"I'm not that bad."

"Emilia. The whole town thinks you almost killed your friend."

I froze.

She continued peeling as if nothing had happened.

"I didn't kill him."

"I know. But do you know?"

"...I don't know."

I put the knife down on the table. I sat down.

"Everything got out of hand, Mom.

I thought I could help him.

I thought that if I awakened the Yin energy, he might have a chance to no longer be bullied.

But... I almost lost him."

She came closer. She put her hand on my shoulder.

"You didn't know what would happen. None of us did.

And yet, you were the first to jump in to protect him."

"It wasn't enough."

"No, but it was more than most would do, and that matters."

I looked at her. Her eyes were green like mine, but older.

More worn by things I didn't yet understand.

"Would you have done something like that too?"

She crouched down to my height.

"If someone important to me was in danger... yes.

I would have done it.

And I would have been judged just the same...

But I would have slept peacefully."

Her words touched me. More than I expected.

"Is that why no one punished us?"

"Not just for that."

"Then why?"

She sighed. She got up to continue cooking.

"Because you're my daughter, Emilia.

And because Grisel's mother is not just anyone.

And because Luahn... is now an anomaly.

But above all, because the city needs hope.

And you, whether you like it or not, represent that."

"I'm no hope."

"Sometimes, hope is born from wounds.

And you, my dear... you will act when that moment comes."

That night, I stayed awake longer than usual.

Thinking about what Mom had said.

About how I felt about Luahn.

About what I didn't yet know how to explain, we hadn't said it out loud.

Neither me nor him.

But when I saw him collapse that night...

When I saw him scream, and glow, and tremble...

Something inside me broke.

And what remained...

Something, a strange feeling, painful but pleasant at the same time.

Maybe I didn't fully understand it yet.

But one thing I knew.

I would do whatever it took to make sure he never fell alone again.

*

POV – Melhe

The Spiritual Council chamber smelled of incense and nerves.

The elders had gathered with long faces and trembling hands.

Not because of their age.

But because of uncertainty.

They didn't like what they couldn't explain.

And Luahn... was a mystery that didn't fit into any scroll.

"Priestess Melhe," said the oldest, his voice dry as old paper.

"What happened was an unprecedented transgression."

"It's unprecedented because nothing like this has ever happened before," I replied calmly.

"Precisely. That's why it must be investigated."

"Investigate. But don't punish."

There was a murmur. Someone else spoke up.

"Emilia is the granddaughter of a war hero.

Grisel... is your daughter.

But the half-breed... he has no backing."

I clenched my fists under my ceremonial robe.

"He has his Yang energy. That's more than backing.

And Dievas has not spoken out against him.

Are we going to punish a child just because he breaks our notions of what is possible?"

"What if he's a danger?"

"Then we'll guide him. Like all children who have power."

An uncomfortable silence rose among us.

Then I spoke more forcefully.

"This event has shown that the impossible can happen.

That should alert us... but also motivate us.

The power that awakened in Luahn did not come from hatred.

It came from love. From protection.

And if we punish him now, we will teach him that his power must be hidden."

"What if he gets out of control?"

"He did. And yet the girls tried to protect him.

Doesn't that say something about what he means to them?"

After a long debate, the decision was sealed.

There would be no punishment.

Luahn could continue his studies.

Emilia could continue her training.

Grisel would remain under my tutelage.

The verdict was not unanimous.

But it was enough.

Hours later, I entered the private sanctuary.

Grisel was there.

Sitting on the floor, in front of a small altar where she used to pray before she met Luahn.

"Praying?"

"No. Waiting for you to punish me."

I sat down next to her.

"I'm not going to do that."

She glanced at me sideways.

"What does that mean? Are you happy about what happened?"

"No. It means that for the first time in a long time, you acted without asking my permission."

"...And that's bad, isn't it?"

"No. It means you're starting to think for yourself."

She lowered her head.

"I just wanted to help Luahn..."

"And you did. Even if it went wrong.

Did you do it because you're his friend? Or because you feel something more?"

She fell silent.

"I don't know," she whispered.

"I just know that when I saw him screaming... I couldn't stand still."

I leaned toward her a little.

"And what did you feel?"

"...Fear.

Not of him, of him leaving, of never hearing him laugh again.

Of him disappearing without me telling him... that I care."

My lips trembled.

Grisel was never an effusive child; she always kept her emotions under a thousand layers of self-control.

But now... she was breaking down in front of me.

And for the first time... she was allowing me to see it.

"You're not just a priestess, Grisel.

You're a girl who feels. Who makes mistakes.

And that's okay."

She hugged me awkwardly.

"I thought you would hate me."

"I love you. Even if I don't always know how to show it."

We stayed like that, under the soft glow of the candles.

And I felt that, for the first time, we were mother and daughter.

Not teacher and student.

Not priestess and successor.

Just two people who had finally found each other.