CHAPTER 12

The arena, as the instructor liked to call it, was just that—an actual arena built into the center of the school with a roof overhead to protect from the elements, but a sand enclosed pit in the middle to keep the floors soft and clean.

We were told to keep ourselves spaces apart slightly so that any weapon we were given to study wouldn’t accidentally end up finding its way into someone else, or bash them over the head.

Our instructor was a strange-looking man with slightly rounded ears, stubble on his face and a mop of unruly brown hair that he tied into a loose knot behind his head. He carried a wooden sword and I found myself wondering at the simple design of it. It didn’t look magical at all, and as he regarded all of us, I found it hard to look away.

A mob of older students joined him, their varying colored shirts and the wooden weapons on their persons cut an intimidating backdrop as he watched us. “I am weapons master Aldren, and you will all refer to me as master Aldren. Scream.”

At the last word, the senior students behind him shouted in unison, “Yes, master Aldren!”

They all stared at us and as he blinked, he stated, “Now you.”

We all screamed the same phrase in return and he nodded to himself. “Good. I expect you all to keep up that same intensity during training and practice. These are my assistants and as such you will pay them the same mind and deference as you would pay me. Not only will they embarrass you if you do not, they’ll beat you then report you to me for more training. Am I clear?”

“Yes, master Aldren!”

“Good answer.” Her grimaced and looked around at all of us. “All of you are children with barely the thought or force of will to master a weapon to the extent that I have—that will change. I will accept nothing less than your absolute best at any given time. You.”

I thought he was pointing at me and froze, “Yes sir!”

“Not you, the boy behind you; step aside.” He moved toward me and made a shoving motion as I moved so that he stood in front of the boy Marki, Etran. “Why do you already have a weapon in your fist?”

I blinked and frowned, he hadn’t had one in his room and I glanced at the boy only to find that he was holding my shuna.

The boy smirked, “It was a gift from my family.” He glanced at me as if daring me to say anything to the contrary.

I grimaced and spoke, “No it isn’t—it’s mine.”

“I don’t care whose it is—why is it not in a sheath?” He stared at Etran hard and since the boy didn’t think to answer him. He held his hand out for the weapon and the boy handed it over with a look of joy.

The instructor whistled low and turned the Shuna over in his hands, “good craftsmanship wouldn’t even touch the description for this.” He looked over at me. “I doubt you could afford this.” He turned to Etran and offered a smirk, “So, what can you tell me about it?”

Etran blinked, “What?”

One of the senior students appeared as if out of thin air and slapped the boy so hard he landed in the sandy gravel at his feet, “You aren’t fit to question master Aldren—answer his question.”

Etran spat some blood out of his mouth, his lip split as Aldren just watched him patiently. “It’s just a wooden sword.”

“No it’s not, it’s called a shuna, and it’s an heirloom from my family.” I stared hard at master Aldren, “Please forgive my forward nature, but the only reason that my shuna isn’t in its sheath is because it was taken without my knowledge. I will be more mindful of it.”

“I like forward, honesty is as close to mastery as one can come in my eyes.” Master Aldren turned to the senior who had slapped Etran. “Run him into the ground, then beat him and run him again. He doesn’t leave until I feel like he is penitent.”

The student grabbed the noble boy by the shoulder and threw him bodily away from group of students and bellowed, “Run!”

Master Aldren turned to the rest of us, “Let that be a lesson to you all. Your political machinations, scheming and using the instructors against other students stops the second before you enter my domain. I don’t care who you know, who you’re in league with, who your mother or father have slept with or even who was unfortunate enough to have been saddled with your useless selves. All I can about is your tenacity and the pursuit of perfection with your chosen weapon or weapons.”

He looked down at me and his hand moved so fast that the only reason I knew it had moved at all was that my waist shifted. I checked my sheath and found that the he had returned my shuna, “I don’t care for negligence with weapons either. No more warnings.”

He lifted his voice as he began to walk away, “Coriander.” Master Aldren jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “You got ‘em.”

“Yes, master Aldren!” The most lithe of the male seniors stepped forward, his hair cropped close to his ears and his eyes intense as he yelled, “To the armories on the sides of the pit—sprint!”

I turned without thinking and sprinted directly past the weapons master and made it to the wall where two of the older students stopped me. I got a whisper of having done as ordered by the boy and completing a quest by the quest giver.

“Pick two weapons.” One of the older students grunted as he tossed his chin at the weapons on the wall held in place by the pegs that hand been hammered into the wood there.

There were axes, pole arms, long and short swords of wooden make. There were other types of weapons like leather whips and small blades like daggers and knives. There were no shuna though.

I picked a long knife of similar style to my shuna and scoured the wall again. I wasn’t large enough to wield some of these weapons well enough to allow me an advantage in a fight. I wasn’t strong enough to swing an axe as large as my body without needing to spend points I wasn’t sure about doing that just yet.

Father used a sword back home and was well off. I grimaced to myself and glanced around the pit to the other students, the majority of them choosing bows, swords large and small and even the occasional staff.

I’m not skilled enough for a sword yet, and it’s something that the other noble types probably feel comfortable with and will be better than me with. I stared at the wall and still found nothing that would allow me an advantage of any sort. I was fast. Was there a weapon that would allow me to use my speed to my advantage?

The older students blinked and looked at me, uncertain, after I asked, “Is there a weapon here that would be best for someone small like me? I’m not too strong so I can’t lift the larger weapons. I’m fast, and that’s about all I have going for me.”

“Recognition of ones weaknesses and trying to compensate for them is always welcome here, worm.” The two students stood at attention and saluted master Aldren by putting the fists over their hearts. “Go away and help the other students.”

“Yes, master Aldren!” They barked and sped away.

I turned to find the man staring at me, curious. “Not strong, but fast.” He considered me, then held out his hand, “Give me your dominant hand.”

I obeyed and he kicked me in the chest, sending me painfully into the wooden weapons behind me with a clattering crash that forced me to the ground. “If you don’t answer me when I speak to you, I’m going to put my foot up your ass—do I make myself clear, worm?”

Once I could breath again, I answered, “Yes, master Aldren, of course, master Aldren.” His eyes narrowed at me, but his hand flew out once more and I complied wordlessly since he hadn’t said anything.

“Learns fast, though his mouth is an issue.” He eyed my face as I spoke but I just did my best to remain impassive. “Less an issue.”

He took my hand and stared at it, moving it from side to side and seeing were the callouses were. “Good grip strength, no callouses that will fit weapons here so that will be an issue for you. I’d say if you want speed over power, your options are better served toward the lighter weapons, like knives and daggers. Tell me, why not choose the sword?”

“The other nobles and members of this school likely grew up in homes where they were taught swordplay, or at least had a tutor on it to get them a passable skill set that I just haven’t attained.” I glanced at the wooden sword on his hip. “While someone of you caliber would kill me quickly and likely without much fanfare, they would be able to embarrass me and still win. They have the advantage and instead of putting myself at a disadvantage with a weapon they know, I’ll do so with one they don’t.” He stared at me hard and I could feel his ire growing, so I quickly added, “Master Aldren.”

“I see.” He stared at me a moment longer and finally glanced over my shoulder, “What style of fighting do you feel like you would want to adopt?”

“One that is fast, but also ruthless, master Aldren.” He frowned at me and I continued. “I don’t have the strength to compete in a prolonged fight right now, and I’m smaller than almost all of the children in my year of classes. If I can figure out how to fight them on equal enough footing, I’ll be fine. I just need to try and fight to my advantages.”

He nodded, “Fair assessment for someone so young, and especially coming from a worm.” He eyed me, then pointed to my shuna. “Do you plan to actually make use of that weapon?”

I blinked at him, blinking in confusion and undoubtedly with uncertainty on my face, “I would like to, but I don’t know how I would do it, master Aldren.”

“From what I understand of them, shuna are magical weapons that are strong enough to siphon and use magic from beast cores and will only break under the most extreme conditions and only if they’re in disrepair.” He tilted his head down at my waist. “That one is nearly in perfect condition and is made from Cindry heartwood. The only thing I could see so much as putting a crack in it is if the sterling dragon were to batter it with her breath and then hammer it with her tail.”

He reached out again, impossibly fast, and the weapon appeared in his hand, “Yes. You could make a go of this with a dual wielding fighting style. Using the shuna to block and clear weapons away from you as you use another weapon to strike.” He tossed the shuna back to me and I caught it easily. The weight of it was familiar, but felt weird in my hand.

He walked around me and to the wall, drumming his fingers along the leather-wrapped portion of his wooden sword. Finally he pointed to a long and thin wooden blade with a wide and rounded case between it and the leather wrapping on the grip, “This is a wooden rapier. It would be fast and you could use it to parry well with the shuna, but it takes years to fully master and as I understand it, you already have a pending duel with the brat who attempted to steal your weapon. That’s out of the question then. You could use the bow, but again, that takes years to master to the extent that it would be useful to you in a fight with a skilled opponent.”

He looked around and didn’t find what he needed, finally shouting, “Booky!”

A red-wearing senior sprinted closer to us when master Aldren turned and just cut him off with a wave, “Bring me all the wooden weapons in crate twenty-two and twenty four, room three.”

The older child nodded and sprinted away, only to return three minutes later with two large wooden crates under each arm. They were pretty unwieldy, but the senior student didn’t seem to care at all. “Here you are, master Aldren.”

“Thank you.” The weapons master took a look in the first crate and pushed it aside, then looked into the second one. “Ah, here one is.”

He pulled out a small axe with a haft roughly the same length of my forearm from the bottom to the top and then the wooden head of the axe fanned out wide from top to bottom with a nasty-looking hook at the bottom of the “bladed” portion of the weapon. “Use this and train with it as much as you can; I recommend at least a few hours a day.”

The quest giver chose then to speak up, Quest received, master Aldren has given you a training weapon to use for training, and has proposed that you practice with it every day for a certain amount of time. Reward: proficiency with the weapons given, 2,000 EXP and improved rapport with master Aldren.

I nodded and said, “I accept.” His eyes narrowed and I once again quickly added, “Your guidance and expertise is gravely appreciated and I will do as you say, master Aldren. Thank you.”

He stared at me for a moment then turned and bellowed, “All of them have weapons?” There was a roar of assent from the student instructors and he nodded, “Good! Break up into weapon type and put them through their paces.”

I went to go to where a student in red shouted, “Axes,” but as soon as I moved to run to him, a large hand landed on my shoulder.

I turned to find master Aldren shaking his head and pointing to a lithely built female senior student with two weapons on her hips. “She will be your instructor for now.”

I walked to her as she stood with her hands on her hips, “Am Brenny, an you be?”

Her accent was thick and I couldn’t place it as I stared at her, I realized she was waiting for an answer and said, “Saemus.”

“Pleasure be your’s then, Saemus, follow me.” The quest giver spoke to me again and I just followed along, accepting the new quest under my breath.

Once we arrived in a more cleared and secluded portion of the pit, she began to put me through my paces with the two training weapons that I had on me. The long knife went in my left hand and the hand axe in my right.

Each weapon moved together at first and I held them in similar fashions, blade up and presented forward to strike. She moved me through vertical strikes and slashes, then horizontal and diagonal. I did these for an hour and as I began to flag and grow tired, she would prod me, or praise me and it forced me to go on.

Congratulations, your Might and Dexterity have both been increased by one thanks to your efforts and toiling to improve.

That felt like it had taken no time at all to happen again. Is that sort of growth limited, or tied to the amount of effort I put in at once?

A smack on the back of my head pulled me from my thoughts, “Oi, best not to day dream here, boy, get back to it, aye?”

“Yes ma’am.” I hunkered down and gave her my full attention for the rest of the time we had class. I caught glimpses of Xanile working with a sword of a thinner variety and she looked to be moving well with it. Something caught my attention in the corner of my eye and I ducked in time to avoid another blow.

“Good reflexes.” Brenny purred with a cat-like grin. “Another hundred of each, remember to breath like ah showed you.”

Again, I doubled down and did what was requested, earning EXP as I went. By the time I finished I was closing in on the next level just from my student teachers instructions alone.

By the end of the class she had begun to teach me what she called “weaving.”

“Object is to weave your weapons back and forth opposite one another and come up with patterns to follow for certain situations.” She took out a flask and took a hefty sip of it, gasping its delight at the end of her pull. “Want some?”

I frowned, “Are you drinking?”

“Oh, aye.” She pointed to her flask. “Nip of the stuff will keep a soldier on her feet for a week, been using it to practice my weaving.”

I doubted I would be that dedicated to the art for right now, and just shook my head again. She stood up and grinned at me in a lopsided fashion I wasn’t used to seeing. “Tell me when to draw my weapons and ah’ll show you weaving.”

I raised an eyebrow at her and did as she ordered, “Draw!”

She lowered her center of gravity and her hands blurred a heartbeat before two wickedly curved daggers appeared in her hands that she slid upward in an arc. As she did, she let go of the blade in her left hand and twisted her wrist in a way that allowed her to grab the weapon as it was still in the air and slashed down with it in the same motion on the other side of her body.

Every time she swung her arms or moved her body, her hips would shift and there looked to be an equal or opposite movement from her other arm that crafted a balance of sorts even if it did look like unbridled chaos.

After another moment of showing off, Brenny came to a dead halt and plopped onto the ground where her eyes closed and she immediately began to snore loudly.

One of the other senior students saw this and bellowed. “Master Aldren, she’s passed out again!”

The weapons master howled, “Gods dammit girl!” He came over to her and put two fingers to her neck and sighed before looking at me, “You see her take a drink of a flask, worm?”

I nodded, “Yes, master Aldren, she said it would keep a soldier on her feet for a week, sir.”

He grimaced and motioned to the two senior students who had done nothing but patrol the sides of the pit for the entirety of class. They joined him and wordlessly took Brenny away as she snored.

“Just so you know, she wasn’t lying.” Master Aldren growled, “The brew she was talking about works, she just uses it too often and has begun to build up a tolerance to it and it won’t work as well for her now.”

He sighed and rubbed his temples before turning back to me where I still had my weapons in hand, “Get back to practicing, worm.”

The rest of the class I spent on my own going through the various iterations of striking that I had already been shown.

I took my time, feeling out how each strike would play out for me, but at the end of the day, I knew that there would be little chance for me to truly gain any experience with the weapons until I would need to actually use them.

Master Aldren called a halt for the class, the other students coming to attention as he did, so the younger class followed their example and stood straight and still.

“You will take these training weapons with you to your rooms and you will practice with them, or you will fall behind and likely die painfully in a fight.” He stared at all of us, his head and eyes moving so that it seemed like he would look every student in the eyes. “I find out that any of you are using them in manners they aren’t meant to be, or treating with disrespect, I will find you and destroy your body like the kid over there puking his guts out in the corner of my pit.”

The thumb he jerked over his shoulder drew our collective attention toward where Etran heaved his lunch and other contents of his stomach onto the sandy ground, “Remember whose displeasure you run risk of earning by not listening.” He stared at us hard, then called, “Dismissed!”