Chapter 1: Just One Last Bout

With a controlled breath, Astrid hefted her shield and sword. The strikes she’d exchanged with the armored figure in front of her so far had been searching, tentative. It was time for the real fight, and she knew how this obstacle would move. So, as her opponent stepped left, she mirrored them, but for only one step. When her foe took another step, expecting Astrid to continue circling around, she did the opposite. She braced her left shoulder behind her heater shield and smashed her whole body weight into her opponent. Caught off guard, their blade was caught between their body and Astrid’s shield.

“Damned barbarian!” They grunted, and Astrid saw red.

“Not. A. Barbarian!” She shouted as she pushed harder into her enemy, knocking them back. As they gathered themselves, she smashed the edge of the shield into their wrist. With another fiercely muttered curse, they dropped the weapon in pain. Astrid disregarded the crack of bone from her attack and dropped her own weapon in response to her foe’s current state. Even so, she pressed the attack and stepped forward to be inside her opponent’s guard and where their shield couldn’t get between her next hits.

Now that they had a broken wrist and nowhere to use their shield, Astrid’s opponent was just a training dummy to her. One that grunted and swore at her. Her fists and knees struck in the places where the padding was weakest and thinnest—the inner thigh, armpit, and neck. They tried to tuck their chin, but her heavy gloves just dislocated their jaw. The armored foe fell to the ground and she went down on top, fist and shield ready to strike until the fight was over. She nearly continued the attack, but the groans and curses changed in timbre.

“I ‘ield!” Johannen shouted, and Astrid immediately pulled back. The other trainee lay groaning on the ground as she stepped away, his shield arm twisted painfully from how the corner of the shield had caught the ground in his fall. With a flash of commiseration at the pain he was in, she wanted to help him with his shield, but Astrid’d learned her lesson there. Some people didn’t want help, they just wanted to be left where they were laying. Especially boys who outweighed her by ten kilos and had three cm of reach on her.

She fought not to grin at her victory. The last training bout before the Bestowal and she’d handily trounced the next best trainee. The Great One was definitely going to make her a Spellblade.

Sweat dripped down her face as she fought to keep from wiping at her face. The mask of her helm was in the way, and she’d need to take it off to take care of everything that needed to be dealt with. That wasn’t going to happen while she was still in the fighting pit, unless she got permission. That’d been a lesson that only needed to be taught once. Brighid, the official for the match, jogged forward in the sand to take a look at Johannen. He waved her off with one arm and struggled to his feet. There, he glared at Astrid for a moment before sighing.

“I ‘ouldn’t ha’e ‘aid ‘at.” It was the closest she was gonna get to an apology, and Astrid didn’t mind. Brighid walked up, and with a glowing sigil of green, reset his jaw and healed it enough for Johannen to speak.

“Yeah, maybe not.” Astrid bowed her head. “Your wrist as bad as I think? If so, my bad.”

“Maybe worse.” He grunted. “Can’t feel three of my fingers.”

“Duchess’s toenails!” She cursed, stepping forward. “You need me to get the healer to hurry?”

“No. You don’t.” Brighid answered. “I’ve already sent for him, and it won’t be long. Now, at ease. Get your helms off and give me a report. Astrid, help Johannen.”

“Yes ma’am.” They both said. Astrid pulled her heavy leather gloves off, the rivets on the knuckles clacking against her chainmail as she slipped them into her belt. Then, with an easy, practiced motion, she unlatched her helmet from under her chin and pulled it off. Her arming cap had twisted around a little, pinching her throat, but she left it alone as she went to help out her comrade.

It was far from the first time that Astrid helped someone else with their armor, as she’d helped out anyone wearing armor who would let her ever since she could walk. As she pulled the helmet off Johannen’s head, his piercing blue eyes met hers. Both sets of eyes were just about the same height, impressively tall for a man and strangely statuesque for a human woman such as herself. As always, Astrid noticed how handsome he was. Chiseled jaw and bright eyes… If only he wasn’t such a prig, then she’d probably have pursued him at some point. His face coursed with sweat, cheeks ruddy from the exercise, and the stubble scratching her hand as she pulled the straps loose.

With his broken wrist, he wasn’t able to untie his arming cap, so after she did that as well, pulling on one of the bow’s strings. The strings sprang free and Astrid left the cap there, not wanting to tempt herself to keep touching his face, though she then held a hand out for his left arm. Johannen didn’t say anything as he let her unlatch the shield from his forearm, but he set it down gently on the ground as he pulled his cap free from his head. His dark hair was matted with sweat, and he looked at Brighid as he was finally in as comfortable a position as he could manage.

Astrid pulled her own cap free and sighed in relief, the sensation of wind on her sweaty neck was blessed. Some of her crimson hair had come loose from its braid and blew around her face into her eyes as the wind picked up. She didn’t let it bother her as, instead of fussing at her hair, she unstrapped her own shield and set it on the ground, leaning against her leg before realizing she had to get the two wooden training swords to where they belong. She jogged to pick both up and placed Johannen’s in his scabbard on his left hip before doing the same with her own. Finally, she and Johannen were both ready to give their reports to their demanding instructor.

“Johannen, first.” Brighid commanded.

“Yes, ma’am. I let myself fall into the rhythm of the fight instead of reacting to Astrid herself. We’ve fought so much that I thought she was going with her usual bulwark strategy. I was planning on shifting to a breaker position, but she anticipated me–”

“I saw what happened.” Brighid interrupted, her voice dry and light eyes unimpressed. “Tell me what went wrong.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Johannen’s voice was clipped. “I was overwhelmed by her ferocity and was lax in my defense of my right wrist. I was unprepared for the blow that she delivered to my wrist. Once I was disarmed, I was too focused on my own pain and anger to retaliate in any way that could be deemed satisfactory. That was the key moment.”

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“That and you depend too much on your familiarity with your opponent.” Brighid said. Her mahogany skin was uncommon in these parts, and the contrast between the two was striking. Astrid fought to pull her mind back to focusing on the conversation occurring. “You’re used to knowing who you’re fighting, so you take too much time to make sure your enemy is fighting the way you expect them to before you commit to anything. Be more flexible and more decisive.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Johannen nodded before turning to look at Astrid.

“You’re up.” Brighid said, her face impassive.

“Yes, ma’am.” Astrid responded, meeting the instructor’s eyes. “I got angry over a petty insult and harmed my fellow trainee, which is unacceptable on both counts. In the Dungeon, I must stay calm and collected instead of losing myself in a small moment.”

“What else?” Brighid demanded. She expected more of Astrid, and the girl could feel it in this moment.

“Um… I dropped my sword instead of keeping the advantage I had. I shouldn’t be honorable in a fight.”

“And?” Astrid fought to keep her face schooled in a respectful look instead of that of confusion. She’d done damn well, right?

“I… I apologize, Instructor Brighid. I don’t know what else.”

“I was hoping you’d get it when I said as much to Johannen. I guess not.” Brighid shook her head. “You’re relying on your familiarity with your foes. You always do, but especially today. If this was someone you didn’t already know was slow to shift from defense to assault, you’d have exposed yourself with that shield strike. React to how your enemy is right at that moment, and you’ll get past Bronze.

“Clear?”

Brighid’s question was immediately answered by both, “Yes, ma’am!”

“Great. Johannen, do you need help to get to the men’s washroom? The healer should be waiting for you there.”

“No, ma’am.”

“Alright. You know the rules. Eat an extra helping at lunch and dinner, get extra rest. I know it’ll be hard, given that tomorrow you’re getting your Classes, but that’s the way things are.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Dismissed.” Brighid waved the nearly-adult boy away. As he disappeared around the corner to the washroom, Astrid and Brighid both walked towards the opposite side of the pits. They walked in silence, shoulder to shoulder. From afar, Astrid always felt that the captain of the guard was a tall woman, but as always, walking together, she was reminded of just how towering she herself was.

Astrid was a good bit taller than the older woman, a fair bit over two meters tall while Brighid was “merely” 180 or so. As they walked into the armory where Astrid would remove her armor and place her practice sword where it belonged, Brighid reached a hand out to the taller girl’s shoulder.

“You ready for tomorrow?” Brighid asked, her tone much softer than it had been.

“Yeah, Mom.” Astrid giggled. “I’m meeting with Dad to do some more last-minute rune practice.”

“That’s good.” Brighid said as she helped Astrid to get out of the armor. “I would be there, but I’m still working til tonight.”

“I know. Don’t worry about it! I’ll see you after dinner, and you’ll remind me what Skills you were offered when you became a Spellblade. I’ll see if I get any better ones.”

“I’m sure you will, my heart.” Brighid smiled and pulled Astrid’s face down to her own as she easily stripped the armor and gambeson from the younger woman. Then, with a tender smile, she kissed her adult-in-everything-but-name daughter on the forehead. “I only got one Bronze Skill offered. I’ll be surprised if you don’t get one for all three.”

“Dad’s bet was on five total.” Astrid laughed as she looked at her competitive mother and allowed her to help her out of the armor.

“Oh?” Brighid laughed as she pulled the greaves and boots from Astrid’s legs. Now that her armor was off, Astrid stripped the rest of her clothing herself before walking to a nearby bucket with water. She poured it over herself and let the cool water cleanse the worst of the dirt and sweat from her body. Even as gooseflesh prickled her whole body, she didn’t regret anything. For a moment, she considered getting into the baths, but there was time for a full bath tomorrow. Today, Astrid would take the time needed to ensure that she was offered the Spellsword Class just like her mom.

“I’ll bet on four.” Brighid said as she gathered all the dirtiest training equipment into a basket. It’d be washed and taken care of by tomorrow, but that wasn’t Astrid’s problem. Tomorrow, Astrid would need real armor and weapons. She was going to be a Diver, and this training gear stuff… well, it wouldn’t suit her. She soaped herself up and scraped the filth of the day from her body.

“You don’t trust in my ability to get five Bronzes?” Astrid asked, mostly teasing but a little offended.

“I do trust your ability. More than in my own.” Brighid corrected as Astrid walked out of the washing area and began putting her pants on. “However, I don’t think you understand just how hard it is to get a single Bronze Skill. Honestly, I think it’ll probably be three, but I want to edge your old man out.”

“Ok.” Astrid stopped the discussion as she quickly wrapped her breasts before shrugging into her tunic and belting it tight. The chill was starting to get to her, and she fought to not shiver. She sat on a stool before going to put her socks and boots on, but her mother smiled as she knelt down in front of Astrid to do it for her.

“I don’t need that.” Astrid insisted as she kept her feet away from her mother.

“I know.” Brighid said as she twisted her left hand’s fingers into a glyph and forced the wind to twist Astrid to face her. Then, with fingers more unmoving than iron, Brighid held her daughter’s leg still as she pulled her socks on before getting the boots just right and beginning to tie them.

“But you’re officially an adult tomorrow. Tomorrow, you’re no longer just mine, but the Duchess’s too. Tomorrow, you’ll join everyone else in the Humanity’s Bulwark in protecting our people. Tomorrow you are your own person. For today, though,” she let the tears pool in her eyes as her breath caught and she met Astrid’s eyes, “you’re just mine. For today, I will protect you from the world, and for today, I will serve and love you. So, even if I need to force it, I will tie your boots one last time. I will kiss you one last time, and I will tell you how proud I am of you, one last time. Tomorrow, you may become Astrid Spellblade. Today, you are Astrid Brighiddotter.”

Astrid bowed her head to her mother, a prickling of tears at the corner of her eye. “Love you, mom.”

“And I love you, if you become Astrid Farmer, Astrid Spellblade, or Astrid Marchioness.” Brighid pulled Astrid into a tight hug. “Though,” she whispered, “I’m hoping for Spellblade.”

“Me too.” Astrid’s voice caught in her throat.

“Now,” Brighid swatted at her daughter, “you get yourself on home. Even if you end up as a farmer, your father’s instruction will remain invaluable to you.”

“Yes, Mother.” Astrid nodded again as she rose to her feet, comfortable in the mid-calf boots tied by her mother. Then, with a small rock of emotion in her heart, she walked out of the guardsman’s washroom for the last time as a trainee.