Chương 119: Chapter 17: The King's Seal - Part III

Garrick POV Six months have passed since Elyrion first showed me what mana could do to a sword, and in that time what once seemed like an impossible technique has slowly become something I can call upon when I need it, although I have learned enough to understand that being able to form an Aurablade does not mean I have mastered it. The first few weeks after my Communion were spent learning how to move mana through my body without losing control of it, and that alone changed the way I fought.

I no longer need to think about every movement before reinforcing it, because mana now responds naturally when I draw it toward my legs to accelerate a step, into my arms to strengthen a strike or toward my core when I know I am about to take a blow. The Aurablade remains different, however, because the amount of mana required to maintain the aura around my sword is far greater than anything I spend on simple reinforcement, and Elyrion has spent the last several months making certain I never forget the difference.

He stands across the training yard with his sword already drawn when I enter, and the sight of him waiting there tells me that today's session will be no different from the countless others we have shared since that first demonstration. The afternoon sun hangs low enough to cast long shadows across the packed earth, and the faint breeze moving through the yard carries the familiar smell of dust and steel, but I barely notice either as I tighten the leather around my wrist and settle my grip around the iron sword.

Elyrion watches the movement without saying anything, and when I finally look up at him, I find the same quiet patience in his expression that has preceded every lesson he has given me since I first began trying to understand what he already knew.

"You've been distracted lately." I give him a faint smile as I raise my sword.

"I've been thinking."

"Those two things are usually the same when you say them." His answer draws a quiet laugh from me, and I shift my weight forward as I prepare myself.

"Then perhaps you should give me something else to think about." The faintest change crosses his expression before he moves, and I respond almost instinctively by sending mana into my legs. The reinforcement carries me sideways before his blade can reach me, allowing me to avoid the first strike without having to meet its force directly, and I use the momentum of the movement to turn back toward him while shifting the mana from my legs into my right arm.

The transition has become familiar over the past six months, and when my sword comes around toward his shoulder, the added strength behind the strike is enough to force him to redirect rather than simply catch it. I follow before he can recover, but Elyrion has spent far too much time training me to allow a second attack to catch him so easily. He turns his wrist and guides my blade away from his body before stepping inside my reach, and I immediately feel his shoulder driving toward my chest.

I draw mana toward my core just before the impact, allowing the reinforcement to spread through my muscles and absorb most of the force, and although the blow still pushes me backward, I keep my footing and use the movement to turn away from him before bringing my sword around again. The attack forces him to retreat this time, and for several moments neither of us says anything as the rhythm of the fight carries us across the yard.

What I have learned during these six months is that mana is most useful when I stop treating it like something separate from my body. In the beginning, I had tried to strengthen myself all at once, filling my arms, legs and torso simply because I could, only to discover that the excess mana did little more than drain my reserves.

Elyrion taught me instead to let the flow follow the movement, sending it toward my legs when I need to close a distance, shifting it into an arm just before a strike lands and reinforcing my core only when I know I am about to receive an impact. It has made my fighting faster without making it wasteful, and more importantly, it has taught me to feel how much mana a movement actually requires rather than simply pouring more into it whenever I want greater strength.

Elyrion changes his rhythm suddenly, forcing me to react before I have time to settle into the pattern we had established. His sword cuts toward my side, and I turn away from it while reinforcing my legs enough to carry me beyond the reach of the blade, but the moment I regain my footing he is already moving toward me again. I bring my sword up to intercept his next strike, and the impact travels through my arm as I absorb it before pushing his blade away and stepping forward.

I can feel an opening developing as our weapons meet again, and this time I decide to take it. I draw mana toward my sword. The familiar pressure gathers along the blade as the aura begins to form, and the ordinary iron disappears beneath a thin layer of concentrated light that extends beyond its edge. I have performed the technique enough times now that I no longer need to force the mana into place, and the aura settles around the weapon almost naturally as I bring it forward.

Elyrion's expression changes when he sees it, though there is no surprise in his eyes, only the same quiet attention he has shown every time I have used it during our training. I step into the opening and swing. Our swords meet, and the difference is immediate. His blade slides against mine instead of stopping it, and the aura surrounding my weapon bites into the iron with enough force that he has to turn his wrist and change the angle of his defense.

I follow with another strike and then another, using the Aurablade to press him backward while keeping the flow of mana steady enough that the aura remains stable around the weapon. For several exchanges, I have the advantage, and the temptation to keep pushing is stronger than it should be because I know exactly how much effort it took to reach the point where I can finally do this. Then I feel the cost.

The mana leaving my reserves is noticeably faster than it is when I reinforce my body, and although the aura remains stable around the blade, I can already feel the growing emptiness beneath the surface. I have learned what happens when that emptiness is ignored, and I have no intention of discovering how much worse it can become simply to win a training exchange. If I allow my reserves to fall completely, the result will not be a little fatigue that disappears after I catch my breath.

My body will weaken, my ability to move will diminish and my mana will become unusable until enough of it returns, leaving me vulnerable until I recover. Elyrion has made that lesson very clear over the past six months, and because of it I release the aura before I reach that point. The light fades from the blade, leaving only the ordinary iron beneath it. Elyrion lowers his sword slightly as we separate,"How long?" If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

I take a breath before answering.

"A little under a minute."

"And how much did you spend?" I glance at the sword before looking back at him.

"More than I should have." His expression remains calm.

"Then you held it too long."

"I had the advantage."

"You had an advantage," he replies, stepping closer, "but that does not mean you needed to spend the mana required to maintain it until the exchange was finished." I know he is right, although admitting it would only encourage him, so I simply raise my sword again and allow the remaining mana within me to settle before taking my stance.

The Aurablade is powerful, but it is still only one part of how I fight, and six months of training have taught me that using it at every opportunity would make me weaker rather than stronger. I can reinforce my body without much difficulty now, and if I learn to use that strength intelligently, there is no reason for me to spend the reserves required for an Aurablade unless the moment actually demands it. We begin again.

This time I leave the aura alone and rely on the skills that have become familiar through repetition, reinforcing my legs as I move forward and shifting the mana into my arm only when I commit to a strike. Elyrion meets me with the same precision as before, and our blades move through one another's attacks in a rhythm that feels less like a lesson now and more like a conversation neither of us needs words to conduct.

I absorb one of his strikes through my reinforced core, redirect another with my blade and use a short burst of mana through my legs to change my position before he can take advantage of the opening he created. The exchange continues until my breathing becomes heavier, but the exhaustion remains manageable because I have not wasted what I have.

I know now that there is a difference between being tired and approaching mana exhaustion, and that distinction has become one of the most important things Elyrion has taught me. I would rather end a fight with enough mana left to stand than win one exchange and spend the next hour unable to move. Elyrion catches my sword and forces it aside before stepping back, "You are learning." I wipe the sweat from my brow and breathe slowly as I look at him.

"That sounds almost like praise."

"It isn't." I laugh quietly and raise my sword again, "Then I suppose I'll have to earn some." His expression shifts into the faintest smile as he takes his stance once more, and when he moves toward me again, I reinforce my legs and meet him halfway, knowing that the next time I call upon the Aurablade, I will make certain the moment is worth the cost.

The exchange continues for several minutes after that, with neither of us willing to be the first to acknowledge that fatigue has begun creeping into our movements, although I suspect Elyrion notices it long before I do because his attention has always been more difficult to deceive than his expression suggests. Elyrion continues without giving me enough time to recover completely, and I have to reinforce my legs again to keep from being forced into another retreat.

His blade comes toward my shoulder, and I turn beneath it before bringing my own sword around in a wide arc that he catches just before it reaches him, but instead of allowing the clash to become another contest of strength, I let the pressure between our blades guide my movement and use the opening to change direction.

The maneuver carries me around his side, and for the first time in several exchanges I manage to dictate where the next attack will come from rather than simply responding to whatever he chooses to give me. I can feel the temptation to use the Aurablade almost immediately. The technique would give me the advantage, and I know that I still have enough mana to form it at least once more, but the lessons of the past six months have made me considerably less eager to spend that mana simply because I have it.

The aura is powerful enough to change the outcome of an exchange, but every second I keep it around the sword draws heavily from my reserves. Elyrion advances again, and rather than retreating, I reinforce my legs and move toward him. The sudden change catches him just enough to create the opening I need, and this time I give into the temptation. I shift the mana into my sword as I bring it around.

The aura forms smoothly this time, spreading along the iron in a pale shimmer that extends beyond the ordinary edge, and the moment it settles into place I feel the familiar drain begin. I don't allow myself to become caught up in the satisfaction of seeing the technique work, because I have learned that the Aurablade is most useful when treated as a deliberate decision rather than something I should maintain simply because I can.

I use the burst of power to force Elyrion's blade aside and drive him backward, following with another strike that he barely manages to redirect before I release the technique again, allowing the aura to disappear before the cost becomes dangerous. The entire exchange lasts less than half a minute, yet the amount of mana it consumes is enough that I immediately understand why Elyrion has spent so much time telling me that efficiency matters more than duration.

I lower my sword slightly as the last traces of light vanish from the iron, and when I look toward him, I find the faintest approval in his expression.

"Better." I breathe slowly and allow the remaining mana within me to settle before answering.

"You said that last time."

"Last time you kept the aura active after you had already gained the advantage." I glance down at the sword.

"I didn't this time."

"No." There is a brief pause before he adds, "You released it when you no longer needed it." I cannot help smiling at that.

"You are complementing me."

"I am." The admission makes me laugh quietly, although the sound turns into a deeper breath when I realize just how tired I have become. My arms feel heavy from the repeated exchanges, my legs ache from the constant reinforcement and the mana moving through my body has begun to feel thinner than it did when we started, but I know I have not pushed myself toward exhaustion. Elyrion seems to reach the same conclusion as he lowers his sword, "Enough for today."

I lower mine as well and nod, grateful for the decision even though I would never have admitted it first.

"I agree." We have barely begun collecting the scattered practice weapons from the edge of the yard when hurried footsteps approach from the entrance, and I turn toward the sound to find one of the younger guards crossing the training ground with a sealed message in his hand. His pace slows when he reaches us, and after giving me a quick bow he extends the message without wasting time on unnecessary formalities.

"Captain Garrick, this came from Lord Havlar." I accept the sealed parchment and turn it over in my hand, recognizing the mark of the keep pressed into the wax, "What happened?"

"I wasn't told." I study the seal for another moment before looking back at him.

"What does he want?" The guard hesitates briefly before answering, "An immediate meeting."

"With whom?"

"With you and Grovekeeper Kaelen." That answer makes me look toward the keep, "Where is Kaelen?"

"The last I heard, he was at the Adventurer's Guild." I nod slowly, though the explanation does little to settle the unease that has begun forming in my chest. Havlar has summoned me before, and Kaelen has certainly been called before, but the two of us being summoned together without any explanation is unusual enough that I cannot imagine this being a routine matter.

I slip the sealed message into my coat without opening it, because whatever Havlar has written can wait until we reach the keep, and the guard gives another bow before turning back toward the entrance. Elyrion watches him leave before looking at me, "Trouble?"

"Probably."

"Serious?" I glance toward the keep again, thinking about how rarely Havlar sends for anyone with such urgency.

"I don't know." Elyrion nods as though that answer is enough, and perhaps it is, because there is little point speculating about something neither of us has been told. I sheath my sword and take one last look across the training yard, feeling the familiar ache in my muscles now that the fighting has stopped, before turning toward the entrance.

Whatever has caused Havlar to summon both Kaelen and me, it can only mean that something has changed in Fallowspire and judging by the urgency of the message, we are not being given the luxury of waiting to find out what.