She never knew when they might come for her. She would fall asleep in her bed, in the orphanage, alongside the other children who had lost their families, and wake up somewhere else entirely. At first it was confusing, opening her eyes and finding herself still enveloped in perfect darkness, but she grew used to it. The nameless one would meet them when they awoke each time, welcome them back to the sanctum and initiate the next round of training.
The loss of her sight was the first challenge that was posed to her and the others. Could they learn to move in the darkness as if it were the light? Were they able to adapt until this state of sightlessness was as comfortable and relaxed as the daylight. To achieve this they needed to rely on their new senses, to follow the scent that the nameless one lay down for them, even if it was an indistinct wisp, masked by misdirecting and misleading trails.
"Our training for you will be difficult for both of us," the nameless one told them, "we have never explored the different ways the System interacts with you as opposed to our kind. You cannot mutate, cannot evolve, but you have your own advantages. We will push those to their limits, but it will require patience, trial and error and dedication. Remember, you can quit any time you like."
The reminder that they were free to leave came often, at the end of every session. That first night they had to walk through a maze relying only on their strange new sense of smell. None of the children succeeded, wandering for hours between cold stone walls. When the time ran out, the nameless one gathered them up and reminded them that they could quit if they so chose. None of the children took the ant up on the offer.
She didn't remember drifting off, but she awoke back in her bed, somehow refreshed and rested. She went about her day as usual, and the next, and the next, never knowing when she fell asleep where she would wake.
"Welcome back," the nameless one greeted them the third time. "Let's get back to it."
Over the weeks they sharpened their senses and their minds to the point where traversing the maze without sight was trivial. Their trust in the new sense was absolute and it continued to level at a rapid pace. If the ant was pleased with their progress, she did not show it, she simply told them that the next time it would be harder. And it was, it always was. The next time they entered the sanctum the maze was gone, replaced with a running track. They would only be allowed to move on when they were able to complete it in under a minute.
Determined to show how much she had improved, Emilia took off as fast as she could, her concentration complete as she sought any hint of scent.
"Jump," she perceived.
Then she fell in a hole.
"There are obstacles on the track," the nameless one told them, "which will change every time you arrive here."
In order to complete the course in the required time the three had to sprint as fast as they could, ducking, jumping, swerving hazards that they could not see, the scent warnings coming at only the last possible moment. She was grateful that the ants had managed to find a way to pad everything, otherwise she would likely have knocked herself out a dozen times over the month it took the three to master the course.
"Remember, if you do not wish to return, you have but to say so," the ant reminded them at the end of each session.
None of the three replied.
The next time they awoke they were upside down.
"Unlike we ants you do not have Grip, nor do you have the claws which we use to hold fast to the stone," the nameless lectured the three startled youths from her position hanging from the ceiling. "Nevertheless we believe that this training is a fundamental part of being one of us. You must be able to move where the other humans do not think you are able to move. You must be as silent and as still as the stone itself. They must never see you coming."
Emilia's forearms were burning after a minute and her fingers locked after three. Without a sound she dropped from the roof to land on a soft padded surface.
"Rest for five minutes, then climb back up," she was told, so she did.
When they could cling to the stone for an hour without falling, they were deemed to have passed.
"If you were ants, it would be twenty four hours, but I suppose this is sufficient," the nameless one stated.
On and on it went. Every time a challenge was overcome, a new one was presented. Move without sound until they could run without making a whisper. Blend into your surroundings until it was impossible to tell them and the darkness apart. They played games where they had to find each other whilst remaining completely hidden from the others. Emilia asked the nameless one to play once. Only once.
"This is called the eightfold genuflection," they were told, "it will be difficult to perform with only four limbs, but I believe we will be able to modify it so that we can recognise it and you can still comfortably perform it."
The ant contrived a series of moves that pushed the three humans to the brink of their flexibility, straining and contorting their limbs to their limits and beyond. Then they practiced for hours on end for weeks until the nameless one was satisfied.
"It will do," she finally relented, "you will repeat this practice for an hour at the start of every session here. Now you will learn the hidden speech of the order. Again, it will be hard, your bodies are different from ours, but I believe we are clever enough between the four of us to make it work."
It took a long time for them to master the signs, a whole new language of gestures and postures that were designed for a shape so much different than their own. The nameless one never allowed them to grow complacent as they practiced. They had to practice while running the ever changing courses. They had to practice while hanging from the roof. They had to practice while hiding from the nameless one.
You have done well, the ant signed to them. I am proud of you.
The rare word of praise filled each of the three with a warmth that they could not express. Emilia's eyes welled up but no sound did she make.
You have become as comfortable in the dark as you are in the light. Your skills have improved, along with your levels and you have each proven that you are dedicated to our ways. I ask you one final time: do you wish to end your training? Do you wish to never return to this place?
They did not speak and the ant dipped her antennae in respect.
Then come and take your rest.
The ant turned and walked from the chamber and the three human youths hesitated. They had never left this single chamber within the sanctum in all the nights they had been there. Where they supposed to follow? The three looked to each other for support and finally summoned the courage to step forward. The tunnels were winding and long, yet they followed easily, their movements flowing, their limbs suffused with almost inhuman strength and agility.
Finally tunnels gave way to corridors of carved stone, which changed to vaunted halls, which led to a grand temple. The ants were everywhere now, along the walls, the roof, alongside them on the ground. Even so, they were able to follow the nameless one without losing her in the crowd of near identical creatures. They could find her anywhere. The temple was strange, the floor carved into a giant circle divided into eight massive segments, each filled with ants at rest.
The nameless one led them outside the great circle until they and a host of ants stood just outside the segment, waiting. Soon, all the still figures on this section of floor began to stir, turning, stretching and then leaving from the outer edge of the circle. Once the segment was empty, they began to shuffle forward as an ant signed to each member as they passed. Eventually the three children reached the front and the figure turned to them.
Good work, nameless ones. Please take your deserved rest, as the Eldest intended, she signed.
The three children choked up instantly, though they did not know why. Emilia couldn't say which was the first to sob, perhaps Allison, or Trean, or even herself, but once they did, all three began to openly cry, their wailing the first sound to ever be heard within the heart of the Sanctum. As they wept, the ants continued to march onto the segment, but as they did, each of them stopped to embrace the three, a leg thrown around them to press their shaking bodies against hard carapace, an antenna reaching down to gently pat their head. Eventually the nameless one gathered them and led them onto the circle where they found three soft, comfortable beds had been erected for them.
Sleep nameless ones. You are one of us now, and we will never abandon you.
Exhausted and drained, the three folded themselves into the warm blankets and fluffy pillows they had been given and slept more deeply and rested more thoroughly than they ever had before.
Emilia awoke in the orphanage, a soft smile on her lips and gladness suffusing her soul. She rolled out of bed and began to perform her regular morning chores, assisting the little ones to prepare themselves for the day as Maria prepared breakfast for them downstairs. When she arrived at the table, Maria took her to one side.
"Is everything alright, Emilia?" the old woman asked, "I know you've been busy, with your new apprenticeship and all, but you just seem so much more quiet than you used to. I hardly hear you make a sound these days."
Emilia looked up into the familiar face of their caretaker and noticed something.
"You look tired, Maria," she said, reaching out with one hand to touch her on the arm, "are you getting proper sleep?"
