Chapter 7 – Words that Sting (1)

Her words hung in the silence. Her gaze turned from Alistair to Midhir, then back to the young noble.

“You both lack knowledge,”

Her words startled Alistair for the second time. He shot a glance over his shoulder, coming eye to eye with Midhir.

“You both lack experience. You have trained forms – rigid motions designed to look good and train your body. But nowhere in your duel did I see a drop of experience. How many times have you fought for your lives?” Her voice rang in the empty courtyard, it was filled with authority, and her eyes demanded an answer.

“I duelled,” Alistair began to speak.

“That is not what I asked.” She cut him off. “A safe duel doesn’t provide you with the same experience as a real fight. How many times was your life at risk, Lord Orlein?”

Alistair tightened his grip of the shaft of his spear. “None.” He replied curtly, pressing his lips together.

Instructor Soraya’s gaze turned to Midhir.

“None.” He replied with a scowl. “But I disagree, instructor. A duel is educational in its own right.”

Instructor Soraya’s lips curled up. “It is educational, but never a fully accurate test of your skill and resolve.” She rested her hands on her belt, hooking her thumbs through it. “Real battle is the best teacher – those who learn, survive, those who don’t… well, they don’t.”

“They die.” Alistair hit the ground with the haft of his spear. “Is that what you want us to do, then? Fight to the death, so the better one survives?” His defiant gaze looked at instructor Soraya with anger.

“No.” Instructor Soraya chuckled mischievously. Her demeanour had changed suddenly. Just a few breaths ago she spoke with a grim voice and looked at them with battle-worn eyes. Now, her smile was beaming, and she seemed like a jokester rather than a powerful fighter. “Patience, Lord Orlein. All will be revealed in due time!”

Alistair let out an annoyed sigh, rolling his eyes. “Right…” he muttered, clearly bothered by Instructor Soraya’s words.

“All that aside, where is Arwen and Willow?” The instructor asked a few moments later with a scowl. “Punctuality is important, especially in the field.”

“Arwen went to the armoury,” Midhir quickly explained. “She said she wants to try learning to use the crystal staff.”

Instructor Soraya raised a single eyebrow. “Very well.” She raised her gaze to the upper floors of the castle. “Something tells me she is going to excel at it…” her voice was but a whisper. She let the silence drag on just enough before rummaging through her pockets.

“Midhir.” She gestured him to approach, and so he did. She gave him a red crystal the size of his nail. “Your sword has no crystal, so you’ll use this. I think it will suit you nicely.” She then turned to Alistair. “I was going to give you a wind crystal, but I see you have one already, and you are familiar enough with it to use it so well.”

Alistair nodded. “It was given to me when I first started training. I would rather not part with it.” His fingers caressed the middle point of his spear’s shaft. Beneath the wraps of leather, blue colour glinted for a split second as the sun’s light reached it.

Midhir pulled the cotton wraps around his sword’s hilt back with some effort and inserted the crystal into the small cove in the metal hilt. Once he heard a soft click, he knew he had succeeded and readjusted the wraps to cover the crystal.

The door behind him swung open as he fixed the wraps. Arwen rushed out, and quickly bowed her head. “I’m so sorry for being late, Instructor!” She exclaimed. Her chest rose and lowered as she panted. She had probably run from the armoury all the way to here. “The quartermaster didn’t want to give me the staff at first.” She explained once she caught her breath.

Instructor Soraya shrugged. “It’s fine, Midhir explained why you were late anyways. And as for the quartermaster – he’s just a bitter old man, don’t mind him.” She waved her hand dismissively.

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Arwen seemed confused. She shot Midhir a glance and whispered. “The quartermaster wasn’t much older than us.”

The door creaked open once more, and Willow stepped out. Faced with the rather sharp gaze of their instructor, she froze. “I’m sorry, instructor. I got lost.”

“I see.” Instructor Soraya raised an eyebrow. “I suppose that’s fine since it’s only your second day here.” Her eyes glimmered all of a sudden as she smirked. “Homework for you, Willow. I want you to draw a rough map of the Castle, you are to include all points of interest – the grand hall, your classrooms, dorms, infirmary, the armoury, this courtyard, and other amenities. You have until the end of the week.”

Willow’s eyes widened in shock. Her lips parted as if she was about to protest, but Instructor Soraya’s glare made her decide otherwise. Her shoulders visibly dropped as she muttered with a defeated voice “Yes, instructor…”

“Now then!” Instructor Soraya clapped once, pulling everyone’s attention on herself. “Since everyone has their weapons, it’s time to start the lesson.” She paused and glanced at Willow. “Your rapier, it’s augmented, am I right?”

Willow seemed surprised. “It is,” She nodded. “I’d rather not swap the crystal out.” She defiantly added as she summoned her rapier from her own holding gem. The elegant weapon materialised in the air, above her palms, and gently fell into her hands.

It was a simple, yet elegant weapon, protected in a leather scabbard. A green gem was embedded into its hilt, in place of where its normal pommel should have been.

Willow unsheathed the thin, silver coloured blade. Sunlight glinted off of the blade.

Soraya moved closer to inspect the green crystal, then nodded with satisfaction. “Very well, in that case only Midhir and Arwen are going to be using crystals they aren’t used to. I assume you know how to utilise the augment?” She asked, looking at Willow.

The young woman nodded, albeit not without a moment of hesitation. “I’m not particularly skilled at it.” She sheepishly added.

“This is a place of learning.” Instructor Soraya raised her chin. “Now then, Midhir, give me your sword. I’ll demonstrate for you all.” She extended her hand, her palm facing up.

Midhir held the shortsword by its blade carefully and placed its hilt in her palm. She took the sword, stepped back a bit, then swung it a couple of times to test its weight and strength. “A good blade,” She commented a moment later. “Albeit simple and crude. It gets the job done though.” She made a stabbing motion, then flourished the blade, spinning it around her wrist.

“Now then,” She breathed out. “Crystals hold the power of the Veil, and of what lies beyond it.” Her voice was calm, yet firm. Her cheerful expression had turned into something more serious as she spoke.

“We don’t know nearly enough about the Veil, and even less of what lays beyond it. We do know that a tear in the Veil can have catastrophic results that can plague the lands for centuries, if not millennia. The Bareon Disaster, the War of the Flames, and even relatively recent An’Larion incident are results of tears in the Veil.”

Alistair pressed his lips together as he listened, while Willow visibly shuddered. While Arwen listened intently, she didn’t seem as disturbed as the others.

“There exists a power beyond the Veil – spiritual power, literally the power of spirits.” She looked at each and every one of them before continuing. “We also have this power. Or at least a way to use it.” The blade of Midhir’s shortsword she was holding burst into flames.

“You will harness the power of the veil, using your own mind. You will allow it to flow into the crystal – the augment embedded within your blade. Once the power passes through the refined crystal, it will become able to affect the world, like this.” She swung the blade, leaving a trail of flames behind it. “Any questions?”

A few moments of silence was answer enough. Instructor Soraya allowed the flames on Midhir’s sword to slowly fade, then handed the sword back to him. “Now give it a try, all of you.”

Alistair hit the ground with the haft of his spear. Water rose from the lake, consolidating around the tip of his spear. The young noble didn’t seem to exert any effort at all as he controlled the flowing water.

Willow ran her palm over the crystal that served as the pommel of her rapier. Strong winds blew her hair back as they swirled around her. Her lips curled up with a smile as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“A fine augment.” Instructor Soraya nodded, then turned her attention to Midhir. She was waiting, demanding success. Demanding a demonstration of his abilities. Demanding power.

He gulped as he tightened the grasp on the hilt of his blade. He reached inwards, where he knew the power she spoke of lay. He commanded it to flow up his chest, through his shoulders, down his arms. A chill ran across his body as the faint power reached his palms, and eventually flowed into the crystal embedded into the sword’s hilt.

He felt power drain from his body, into the sword as he exhaled. Warmth radiated from its metal blade moments before the first flames formed on its surface.

Panting, he lifted his gaze to see a rather unimpressed Instructor Soraya.

“Amazing,” Arwen’s whisper broke the awkward silence. “May I try, Instructor?”

Instructor Soraya pursed her lips. “This isn’t what you should strive for, but yes, give it a try.”

Arwen shot her a puzzled look before she turned her attention to her staff. It was a beautifully crafted weapon. Its haft was made of naturally grown wood, inlaid with threads of gold that followed the natural shape of the wood. The top of the staff was shaped like a four-pronged spear, housing a fist sized pale yellow crystal in the middle.

The young woman held the staff with both hands. She furrowed her brows and pressed her lips together as she focused. A second passed, then another, and as the third rolled around, her eyes shot wide open.

Golden light that was bright enough to rival the sun poured out of the crystal.