Wiser is a strange Talent. Many a scholar has tried to define it precisely and explain how exactly it is controlled, but there have always been exceptions to new rules. Lately, I’ve been seeing something strange in the lines of power everywhere around us. They are pulsating.

Two weeks had passed since the Testing and Samos found himself aboard the Windweaver, contemplating on the journey that laid before him. Ralph had not wanted to waste any time once the Testing had been finished and before Samos was able to adjust to the idea that he was now to be a member of the Order, they had already left the port of Ters.

Through Olava’s Strait they had sailed, passing Aldar and later South Harbour where they had made port shortly to restock on supplies. Numerous small ports had passed on the coastline as the winds took them further south, vague memories of visiting them years ago floated in Samos’ mind. In each of them, he had hoped someone would recognize him. A friend, family, a shopkeeper he had once met.

There had been no one.

And now he was bound for Eresath, the capital of the Order of the Four Talents, considered to be the greatest city in the realm by many. Would he find answers there? Perhaps a cure to fill the black hole lingering in his memory…

Ralph joined him at his side on the stern. Samos was, even after all this time they had spent together, in awe of the man. A Son’Sha, wielder of three Talents. He was the twentieth in a span of over two-thousand years. Legends and myths surrounded the mention of a Son’Sha in the old stories.

Arthus Harwell, who had defeated the traitor Gherald Elric. Son’Sha against Dovra’Sha, a one-on-one battle that had later been given the name ‘The Dance of Dreams’. Maery Tear, the legendary blacksmith who had forged the Five Sacratys by combining her three Talents into a single use. Blades made from taen and makran, only to be wielded by the most powerful.

They had not always been heroes though. Before the founding of the Order there had been those with selfish intentions. There was Markan Moore, who had plunged the continent of Odera in civil war before being defeated by the gifted Dovra’Sha Antal Donat. And who hadn’t heard of Kalo Daern, who led a united force of Nakin tribes into Masenis and laid waste to the kingdom.

And Ralph, Son Aëron as the others called him, was one of them. What extraordinary feats had he already accomplished besides the capturing of Ralog? He has only been a Son’Sha for a few years, Samos had come to learn. He had decades yet to solidify his name in the historical annals.

To Samos, he looked just like any other man.

“We’re about to pass Peak’s End,” Ralph suddenly said as he stared ahead onto the blue landscape of the Endless Waters. “Soon we’ll sail along the south coast of Ashana, make port at Sandos and continue east through the Red Sea. Once we’re past that, it’s a near straight line to Eresath. All in all, I estimate another month of travelling.”

A month at sea. “We’re to sail straight through the Inner Sea? I heard the preferred route is to follow the northern islands of the Archipelago and then north along the west coast of Titrith.”

Ralph nodded. “The safer route, pirates not taken into account. But slower as well. And I’d like to reach Eresath as soon as possible. Something’s happening in the world, Samos, and I’d like to be ahead of whatever it is.”

“You’re talking of the Warbringer?” Samos asked remembering the fight in Ilsas’ Spring the evening before the Testing.

“Indeed,” Ralph answered. “Whoever he is, his men, who were obviously trained outside the Order, were able to disappear in a heartbeat. No seal or enhancement trick is capable of that. Combining that with rumours of a grand fleet gathering at Nokoroy leaves a sour taste in my mouth.” A dark expression grew on his face.

“We also can’t forget the murder of Ralog,” he continued. “No doubt those five killed him, but to what end I wonder. They must have had some connection with the Wolf.” He sighed. “Questions, questions… and no answers.”

Samos eyed a troubled Ralph, who seemed lost in thought for the moment. The deck behind them was bristling with activity. Sailors going about their duties, Enhancers training in a small, cleared space, some of the Healers having heated discussions on the poop deck…

He spotted Yara among the Healers, listening intently to the conversations. A rare privilege for someone who had only just manifested her Talent. Or Talents. She had certainly surprised him when she revealed she was to be a Dovra’Sha, Healing and Sealing her two talents.

She jerked her head away from the conversation towards Samos and a soft smile appeared on her face before she turned her attention back on the discussion. Her father Harold had reacted poorly to the news that she would depart from Ters, he would have to look for someone else to take over Ilsas’ Spring when he grew too old or too fat.

“How is your training going?” Ralph asked suddenly as he turned towards Samos. “I’ve seen you spar a few times with Alvina, but as I understand it, it is Rey who has been teaching you.”

Samos nodded in response. “I feel it’s going well,” he replied truthfully. Both Alvina and Rey, and other Enhancers, had started sparring with him, but it was mostly Rey who focused on the teaching part. Different stances, sword forms, opening moves, defensive blocks that allowed you to switch to an offensive position quickly… The journey over sea so far had not been an idle one.

Ralph stepped away from the railing and made for the centre of the deck, drawing his sword as he went. “Alright then,” he said with a grin. “I’ve been below deck working on papers for long enough now, let’s see what you’ve learned so far.”

Somehow, Samos had known this moment would come eventually. Ralph’s personality was ever-changing between the serious Son Aëron and the relaxed Ralph, but always he loved to test his skill and swing the sword. So, with a slight nervousness swelling up in his stomach, he followed Ralph onto the deck and drew his own sword.

A circle opened amidst the organized chaos playing on the deck and sailors and enhancers alike made room to allow the spar to take place. Focusing on Ralph as he entered the circle and took his stance, he absently noted the people around them taking bets on the outcome. None were betting for him to win, only on the duration of time it would take Ralph to win.

He couldn’t blame them.

“Ready, Samos?” Ralph asked as he took an open stance, seeming completely relaxed, his sword hanging loose in his right hand pointed downwards. Real steel this time. It had been two weeks since he had last drawn his own blade, only having trained with practice blades. It felt surprisingly light and comfortable in his hand.

He widened his feet, left foot a bit more forward than the right, sword on his right with both hands firm on the hilt. A stance that could be used for either a quick attack or a swift backwards retreat.

“Ready.” He lurched forwards, enhancing his right foot for extra speed. A swing from the right towards Ralph’s unguarded side. Ralph pivoted backwards on his right foot, bringing in his sword to block the strike. Anticipating the reaction, Samos changed the trajectory of his attack and slid towards the left. He planted his left foot firmly on the deck, brought his sword to the other side of his body and struck at Ralph.

Ralph however changed his guard back to his right side and blocked the incoming strike. He pushed Samos back and went in for the attack. In quick succession, blows from all sides barraged at Samos. One by one, every next heartbeat, he blocked them. The ones he couldn’t block in time, he dodged, enhancing his legs in short bursts to preserve power.

A strike came from the left, the path of the blade only slightly higher than the previous ones.

Just high enough, Samos realized. Instead of blocking, he ducked and let the blade pass above him. With a burst of power to his right foot and left arm, he lurched forward from his lower position and rammed his fist in Ralph stomach.

Twenty feet later, Ralph came to a stop. Samos had punched him hard, but somehow the man had kept his balance while flying backwards. The only sign Ralph gave that he had been hit was rubbing his stomach absently, as if shrugging of a small bruise. The people around them were applauding the counter, he realized.

“Well spotted and perfectly timed counter,” Ralph grinned. “You’re getting proficient with using your Enhancement powers, only applying them where necessary and no longer than needed.”

The fight started again, Samos once again trying to take control of the fight in the opening move. This time he went for one-handed attacks, allowing him to vary more in his angles from attack. The sword does feel lighter, he reflected whilst attacking. The last time he had used it, while facing Ralog’s three accomplices in the alleys of Ters, it had been heavier he was sure.

It no longer felt as a weapon, he realized. In the short time-span they had been fighting, it had become a part of himself. As he had become stronger, so had the sword. He could enhance his legs, his feet, his arms… Why not enhance the sword as well? Surely that was only a logical thing to do.

The clashing of metal continued. Once again, Ralph had taken control of the battle and had forced Samos into a defensive position. Block upper right. Move to left, deflect the sword upwards and strike for the body. Anticipate the counter-block. The thoughts raced through his mind and he obeyed them instinctively. The speed at which they were trading blows increased and Samos began to see he was about to lose.

Enhance the sword.

Without a second thought, Samos spread the enhancement he held in his arms into the hilt of the sword. Somehow, he felt the handle strengthen in his grip and he knew it had become near indestructible. Further he let the power spread, further into the metal to the very tip of the blade. Little white lines began to appear, trailing along with the feeling of enhancement he had sent through the sword.

Beyond the trance of the fight, he thought he heard several people gasp and shout. Ralph on the other hand showed surprise and… excitement? What was happening? And what were those white lines moving along the edge of his swords?

Ralph struck from above in a downwards arch. In the nick of time, Samos brought up his own to block. The swords made contact and with a loud clang, Ralph’s blade broke in two where Samos had blocked. The broken part fell to the ground, narrowly missing his face, and plunged itself into the deck point first.

The screeching of seagulls above and crashing of the waves against the hull were the only sounds breaking the silence that had befallen the Windweaver.

Samos bent over, breathing heavily. He felt exhausted, more so than the training sessions had made him feel even if they had lasted way longer. Eiran, one of the Sealers that was travelling with them, broke from the circle and asked Samos for his sword. Confused, he handed over the blade and Eiran began inspecting it.

“It’s gone,” he said after a while, “but it was definitely what we think it was.” He handed the sword back and regarded Samos for a second before turning his gaze towards Yara, where it lingered for a few moments. He addressed the crowd on the ship. Nobody was moving, waiting as if they were expecting something.

“When we discovered Yara in Ters and the Talents she had, we were thrilled to realize we had found a new Dovra’Sha.” He turned as he spoke, making sure to address everyone on deck. “It would seem that there was more yet to be discovered in Ters. During his bout with Son Aëron, young Samos has manifested a second Talent by enhancing not only his own body, but that of sword as well. Something that is only possible by combining the power of Enhancement with that of Sealing.

“In other words,” he paused and gestured towards Samos. “Here stands a Dovra’Sha.”

Some cheered, some applauded. One by one, whilst the sailors returned to their duties, members of the Order passed by him, congratulating him for the manifestation of his second Talent. He took it all in, unsure how to respond as the realization of what had happened began to sink in.

He was Dovra’Sha.

Yara appeared before him once he was alone again, Ralph engulfed in a hefty discussion with other Order members. She crossed her arms and eyed him.

“And here I was, thinking I was the only special one on this ship besides Son Aëron.” She poked him in the chest. “I could have known you’d be jealous and try to steal my position with the others.”

“Yara… I…” Sevens, what should he say to that? She seemed genuinely upset.

Then she started laughing. “Oh I’m sorry Samos,” she exclaimed apologetic. “I’m kidding of course, you idiot. It’s wonderful you’ll be a Sealer as well, we might get to train together!”

Samos let out a sigh of relief and laughed with her. How did she always manage to make him feel nervous?

Ralph ended the discussion he was having with the others and joined them, broken sword back in its sheath whilst the other part was still stuck in the wooden deck.

“About the sword…” Samos began. He had always considered Ralph’s sword to be an expensive one.

Ralph waved the apology away. “No worries, no worries. It’s a cost worth the price. You keep surprising me Samos. You’re a good thinker when fighting, relying on your instincts gives you an edge in combat not many have. Your time at Eresath will be a most interesting one.” He patted him on the shoulder and bowed down, picking the broken blade from the deck.

“Yara, my dear,” he began. “I do believe I have the perfect exercise for a Dovra’Sha of your Talents. Let’s see how well you can heal metal.”