Eric, busy with a sparring match, recognized the presence of the person approaching him. Still, he didn’t let it distract him. He kept his eyes on his opponent, another apprentice in Issho-Ni. He held a long bo staff and wielded it like a spear, peppering Eric’s guard with quick jabs and swipes. Holding wooden replications of his own weapons, he grimly parried and sidestepped each blow as it came. Ehran had set him a new challenge for this match. Simply put, he was not allowed to counter-attack, until he was given permission.

Easier said than done, he thought grumpily. He was experienced enough to see that he was a bit more skilled than his opponent, but the restriction of not being able to attack was stressful. It taxed his energy reserves to only parry, block and dodge. Added to that was the distraction of wondering when Ehran would give him permission to finally strike back. He was confident that he could finish the combat in two quick hits. Staying defensive and mobile as he was had revealed several flaws in the movements of the other apprentice. If only he could take advantage of them.

The presence was undoubtedly that of Samuel, the Archmage who had summoned him to Ahya. Ignoring the fact that every single one of his meetings with the lanky mage had preceded some problem, Eric had to admit that his appearance was not exactly comforting. But he pushed these thoughts out of his head resolutely, ducking under another savage swipe. Damn, he thought. That one had nearly clocked him on the head. He suppressed the urge to whack the wrist extended just a few inches too far, and jumped to the side.

He had just managed to glimpse Samuel out of the corner of his eye, leaning down and talking to Ehran. Eric’s master listened with a tilted head, his face setting into a stony scowl. Then he glanced up, took a deep breath, and gave Eric permission to strike back. Instantly, Eric jumped forward half a step, leaning to the side and allowing the spear to whip past his head. He smacked the back of his opponent’s main hand with one sword, then the back of his knees with the other. The apprentice’s legs buckled under the second blow, and he dropped onto his back as his weapon clattered to the floor.

“Damn,” the apprentice said, cradling the back of his hand. “Was I even making an impression on you?”

“Of course you were,” Eric assured him. “You have no idea how close I was to dropping. Your strikes are scary fast.”

He gripped the other apprentice’s uninjured hand with his own and hauled him up to his feet. A grin was shared between them, then they replaced their practice weapons on the rack. Eric’s opponent returned to stand with his own master, while Eric made his away around the sparring circle to stand before Eric and Samuel. They were talking in low voices so he didn’t interrupt, mainly staring curiously at Samuel. The Archmage’s robe was in a different style today, he noticed. The sleeves barely reached his elbows now, revealing his pale forearms. He also noticed that the entire garment was made of thick cloth, and had many runes inscribed upon the surface. It probably worked as some kind of magical armor, he reasoned.

“Ah, Eric,” Samuel said, straightening up and smiling widely at him. “Excellent match. You’ve improved a lot since we last met.”

“Good morning, Archmage,” Eric said coolly. He didn’t know how much Ehran was aware of regarding his unique situation, but he figured it was smart to act as though he knew nothing. “What brings you to Issho-Ni today?”

It had been two weeks and four days since his dinner with Emma. His training with Ehran had continued without fail, increasing in difficulty with each new week. He had graduated from defending against several opponents at once, and with his new weapons in mind, Ehran had set him to further sharpening his agility and reflexes in battle. The sparring session he’d just completed was a prime example. Without the option of attacking, he was forced to use his mind, just as much as his body, to anticipate and avoid his opponent’s strikes.

For Eric had spent a lot of his gold on new gear. His armor was the same, but modified with a few enchantments, courtesy of Samuel. There were now intricate runes along the edgest of the metal plates, and his swords had been reinforced as well. They felt feather-light in his hands, but struck with a lot more force when he landed strikes. He’d even managed to strike Ehran once in their last duel, which had heartened him. The enchantments helped a lot, but the true boon, he knew, was his experience and increased level. He opened his character sheet now, as if to confirm the change one more time.

A solid month of training had seen some interesting changes to his style. Where previously, when he’d first arrived in Ahya and focused solely on his defense, he now had greatly boosted his Strength and Dexterity. There were two key effects of these changes. He noticed that, once his Strength had reached 25, his attacks tended to do one extra point of damage. Additionally, thanks to his Dexterity reaching the same level, apart from being overall much quicker, there were odd moments in a fight where time seemed to slow, allowing him a second chance to dodge an attack or land a blow. A free reroll, essentially.

His two short swords, while shorter than his previous main weapon, allowed him more equal force. He could strike with both weapons at once and apply even force when blocking a weapon. It made direct blocking easier, and jolted his wrists less. More leverage against bigger weapons, he reminded himself. That had made his defense a lot sharper. All in all, he felt like his style had been reinvigorated once again, and in conjunction with Ehran’s harsh training, he’d become a more lethal fighter for it.

“I don’t like this,” Ehran was saying now, and Eric’s attention was drawn back to the conversation. “I am his Master, and I do not approve of this.”

“You don’t think he’s capable of it?” Samuel asked, arching one eyebrow. “From what I just saw, I think he’s plenty skilled enough.”

“It goes against everything we stand for!” Ehran said angrily, jumping to his feet. He was a full head shorter than Samuel, but he more than made up for it with his sudden anger. “You may be an outsider to our ways, but you must respect our code! We do not attack without provocation!”

“Hold on,” Eric interrupted. “Attack? What are you expecting of me, Samuel?”

Samuel hesitated just a moment before answering, his eyes narrowed as he stared down at Ehran. “You recall the purpose you came to Tyrman, yes?”

“Of course,” Eric said, a tight knot forming in his stomach. Was it time already? He wasn’t ready! “Don’t tell me it’s time already.”

“Not quite,” Samuel said, turning to face him. “But it is not far off. In the meantime, your skills are needed.”

“I don’t care what you have in mind!” Ehran said loudly. Several Issho-Ni members froze in what they were doing to stare over. Ehran was not an angry person, so the tone of his voice was shocking enough. “He is my apprentice! You will not lead him against the code of our Patron!”

“I do not intend to force him to break your code,” Samuel said. In contrast to the obvious temper in Ehran’s voice, his own words were getting quieter, as if he feared being overheard. “But Eric’s presence in this city is due to a promise he made months ago. It is now time for him to fulfill it.”

Ehran turned to Eric, his face losing some of its harsh lines. “Eric, do you know what he’s talking about?”

Eric took half a step back, automatically raising his hands defensively. The unwavering look in Ehran’s eyes was unsettling. For the first time, he had glimpsed the quiet fury that drove Issho-Ni to do what it did. “Y-yes. When I first came to Milagre, I made a promise to help the Crown.”

It was a reasonable representation of the facts, and not entirely false. The Royal Family was likely to be a driving force in whatever event was to transpire, so it made sense that his role would, in some small part, be in service to the Crown. Whether or not the Queen knew of his unique purpose didn’t matter. Ehran held his gaze for several long seconds, then turned angrily back to Samuel.

“I still do not approve,” he said firmly, his voice quieter now. “Eric may have made a promise to you and the Crown, but he also has an obligation as my apprentice.”

“It is urgent,” Samuel said. “But I cannot force him.”

“I have a choice?” Eric asked, taken aback. He hadn’t had a choice so far.

“Of course you do,” Samuel said. “You can stay here and continue your training with Ehran, if you feel that is your best choice. But I cannot stress it enough that the need for your participation is crucial.”

“What will be expected of me if I agree to help you?” Eric asked. As usual, he wanted to be sure he had all the facts before he chose. Though he thought with an inward laugh, he wasn’t likely to get them.

Samuel, as if sensing his thoughts, spared him a slightly exasperated look. “You will undergo a new form of training. You will be placed in command of a small group of fighters, given missions, and expected to grow as a leader.”

“Which unit will he be joining?” Ehran asked at once. “Who will his supervisor be?”

Samuel hesitated, almost as if he didn’t want to share more. Then he shrugged lightly. “His unit will be an entirely new one. He will have no direct supervisor, but will instead answer to the Crown.”

“What?” Ehran took a step back, shocked by the reply. “But he is an apprentice!”

“It is our hope that he will not remain an apprentice long,” Samuel said. He turned to Eric and explained a bit further. “The timetable has advanced considerably. The only way to compensate for that is to advance your training. What do you say?”

The urgency of Samuel’s explanation was clear. Though Eric didn’t know exactly what he needed to do, he knew that it was important that he agree. He desperately wanted to continue his training with Ehran, to further improve his skills, but he also knew that he had a strict purpose here. Samuel wasn’t the type to harm or impede him if he did nothing, but he had no clue what the consequences of refusal might be. He just had to hope that Ehran wouldn’t hate him for his choice. He looked away from his master and took a few moments to control the apprehension building within him.

“Very well,” he said quietly. “I agree. I’ll do whatever I can to help, Samuel.”

He stole a glance at Ehran, expecting to see a glare of anger directed him, or at least a look of disappointment. He didn’t know when the master’s opinion had come to mean so much to him, but he hated to think that he might be failing him. To his surprise, however, Ehran’s face had returned to a mask-like calm, and his eyes showed only a tired sense of resignation. Eric turned to look at him fully, his eyes offering a silent apology.

“I understand,” Ehran said, his voice so low that the words were barely inaudible. “But before you leave, I have one more thing to teach you. Will you accept just one more gift from your teacher?”

C_P_Tuck

Does anyone ever feel like they're living several weeks in advance of real life?

Because I certainly am. As of this moment, I'm actually four weeks ahead of you all. That's a joke about my advanced release schedule. You're on Chapter 66, but I'm on Chapter 91 :)

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