64th day of Summer, 513 AV
Savio’s heart was hammering as his feet pounded the ground beneath him. The world around him moving past him in a blur of colors and sounds as the young man ran laps around the perimeter of Ximal’s school, Iron Fist. It wasn’t a punishment from the Master; Savio chose this form of training himself. He needed to get faster, and he needed to endure more if he wanted to have any hope of getting better. The extra training would help too with his Messenger job. Faster delivery meant higher pay, and Savio needed the mizas to pay his tuition if he wanted to keep learning under Ximal.
The sweat poured down his bare back and chest, having forgone his shirt long ago. The running gave him a chance to think, to tune out the world and focus inward. Savio had been training every morning for the last fourteen days, and he could almost see it when he looked upon his reflection. But mostly, it was his clothes that told him how his body was changing. His pants were loose around the waist but his tunic was getting tighter around his arms and chest. He also realized that he could do more for longer than he did before he joined Ximal. It gave him a bit of delight to see how he was progressing, but he still had much more to go before he was done. Perhaps he will never be done. Savio figured that the day he stops pushing himself to be better will be the day he dies.
After a few more laps around the school, since Savio had lost count, he finally came to a stop at the small pile of clothes he had left at the center of the training grounds, and picked up his water pack to take a drink. The water, though warm, was bliss to his dry throat. He even poured some on his head to cool down a bit. Perhaps he will go to The Post after he washed up to get an early start on his deliveries. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea.