“Come on, Megan! Try a little harder, will you?”
Megan picked herself up from the ground for what felt like the twelfth time and glared at Michael. Her ribs ached from where yet another bolt of lightning had struck them, piercing through her shield as if it hadn’t been there. It was easy for him to talk, she thought. He was focusing all of his mana on offense, while she had to guard against his seemingly endless barrage of attacks.
“Right,” she muttered under her breath. “Like I’m just taking it easy, here.”
He wasn’t able to make out the words she used, of course, but he must have caught the dark look in her eyes because he suddenly took a step back. “Sorry, I got ahead of myself. Let’s take a break.”
She nodded her agreement and shuffled over to the chairs that lined the room. Michael had approached her early that morning, on their day off, and asked for her help in practicing for the Exchange. She’d agreed at once, wanting to practice herself, and they’d booked one of the dueling rooms located underground beneath the College. But Megan was taking it badly, and she’d already depleted her mana reserves after just an hour or two of practice. Michael’s natural power was much greater than hers, she reminded herself.
Despite suggesting the break, Michael did not take the chance to relax. After only a few seconds to grab a drink of water from the canteen he carried in his bag of holding, he set himself to swinging the sword in patterns of quick strikes, his face contorted with concentration and sweat flowing freely down his face. He slashed, sidestepped, jabbed, and spun with deliberate timing, fighting against an imaginary foe. Megan watched him work with a begrudging sort of awe, amazed at the dedication he put into his training.
The door opened to the dueling room, distracting her. She leaned forward and craned her neck to look at the entrance, wondering who it could be. She and Michael had only booked the room for four hours, but they’d hoped that nobody else would need it, and they could continue practicing for as long as they wanted. She relaxed when she saw that it was just Jordan and Rachel. Their two friends were clearly looking for them, because they didn’t look surprised to see them there.
“Thought we’d find you here,” Rachel said, giving Megan a small wave as she approached. “When we couldn’t find you in the library, we figured you’d be taking the chance to practice.”
Jordan, as usual, didn’t say anything, but gave her a friendly nod, then turned to watch Michael. Their friend didn’t seem to notice the new arrivals with how hard he was focusing, and the three of them observed him in silence, watching the way he moved his sword and body in a set rhythm. Without realizing it, they all nodded approvingly. They’d known for a while now that Michael wasn’t a genius because of any natural talent, rather through hours and hours of hard work like this.
Finally, Rachel broke his concentration. “Alright, Michael. Come take a break, before you wear a hole in the floor.”
Michael stopped his last cut and turned, clearly surprised, to see her and Jordan beckoning him over. He was breathing very heavily as he approached, and his undershirt was soaked and sticking to his frame. He grinned at them all nonetheless, and greeted Jordan with the standard warrior’s handshake. Megan couldn’t help but notice how his forearms and shoulders were a little more muscled since she’d last seen them bared. She deliberately looked at anything but Michael worried he’d noticed her staring.
“What are you guys doing here?” He asked Jordan and Rachel. “Didn’t you have to finish your project for Ashara?”
“We finished that hours ago,” Rachel said with a wave of her hand. “You’re not the only genius in our year, you know.”
“So you admit that I’m a genius?” Michael retorted, his eyebrows raised. “Took you long enough!”
Rachel rolled her eyes, and Jordan gave a quiet chuckle at her slip of the tongue. She spared him only half a dirty look before gesturing at the sword still held in Michael’s right hand. “I see you’re getting the hang of it.”
Michael glanced down at the blade, still glowing with the supply of mana he was feeding it. “Yes. It’s a damn good weapon. Efficient, too. I’m trying to get used to using ki and mana at the same time, and interchangeably.”
“Shiora gave you the day off from training as well, did he?” Jordan asked, speaking for the first time. “Or are you shirking your apprenticeship duties again?”
“Don’t say ‘again’ like I’ve done it before,” Michael muttered, looking suddenly cross. “Master Shiora just isn’t as available as the others.”
“Why haven’t you tried to get a new master, then?” Megan asked. “Maybe someone who has a little more free time, or fewer students to fill his schedule?”
“Are you mad? No. Shiora is the best Master they have. He’s the grandson of Shigeru, after all.”
“What about his son?” Rachel asked. “He doesn’t have any students, does he?”
“Master Ehran?” Jacob asked, and Rachel nodded. He shook his head. “I don’t think he’s willing to take on any students, right now.”
“He has that test that someone has to pass before he’ll teach them,” Michael added. “I heard him telling some guard that, when he came asking for an apprenticeship.”
The name rang a bell in Megan’s memory. Ehran? It sounded very familiar to her. Then she heard Michael mention a guard, and it came to her. Eric. She jumped to her feet, making the others start in surprise with the movement. Ignoring their startled looks, she took a step closer to Michael.
“Did you catch the guard’s name?” She asked eagerly.
“No,” he said slowly, staring at her as if she’d lost her senses. “I was only there for a few minutes, and he was talking to Masters Ehran and Calemviir. I didn’t stay to eavesdrop on a random stranger.”
She frowned thoughtfully, making a mental note to mention it to Samuel and Eric. She was dimly aware of Jordan speaking. “Anyway, he’s not even letting people do the test as usual. I heard he’s not ready to take on another student just yet.”
“Another?” Michael asked. “He’s never taken one.”
“He has,” Jordan corrected him. “I don’t know his name, but apparently he was new to Milagre, and working for Archmage Bragg.”
That settled it for Megan. A stranger, new to the city, who had the name Ehran and Samuel Bragg in common? It had to be Eric. It was the first hint of his time in Ahya that she’d heard of. If she could meet this Ehran person and learn a little about Eric’s time here, she could help him recover some of his memories. She looked at Jordan.
“Do you know anything else about his apprentice?” She asked. “He sounds interesting if he’s the only one Ehran ever had.”
“Master Ehran,” Michael corrected her. “They’re not all as casual as Archmage Bragg.”
She shrugged diffidently, and plowed on. “Well?”
“I don’t know anything about him,” Jordan admitted with a shrug of his own massive shoulders. “I just hear the story. Apparently, he did well for himself. Got a minor noble title in the first few months.”
“But he died,” she stated, trying her best to make it sound like a guess, and not something she already knew. “Didn’t he?”
Jordan nodded confirmation. “He was poisoned by one of Attos’ agents.”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Michael said. He looked faintly green. “We’re here to train.”
“Oh, right,” Rachel said, appearing to come out of a trance. “That’s why we came.”
“We?” Megan questioned, looking from her to Jordan. “But you guys don’t have to prepare for the Exchange.”
“No,” Jordan agreed. “But you do, so we’re here to help.”
“How are you going to help?” Michael asked, almost managing to keep the scorn out of his voice. Being selected for the Exchange seemed to swell his head a bit more.
By way of answer, Jordan let his mana flare out and around his body. It solidified into armor around his larger frame, and he conjured a shield and sword with mana. Michael immediately took a step back, an eager grin forming on his face. He and Jordan immediately moved away to the other side of the room and started sparring. Jordan was fresh and gave as good as he got, blocking each stroke Michael swung and attacking with his own weapon. Megan watched them as they built up speed, until Rachel cleared her throat and drew her attention.
“You have to train too, Megan,” she said pointedly. “I’ll help you. What do you want to work on?”
She and Rachel spent some time discussing the areas she felt needed improvement, then set to work. In the short break, a good chunk of her mana returned, and she set Rachel to fire low-powered spells at her. She alternated between defending with her barrier and Counterspell, breaking each attack as her friend sent it. It was taxing work, possibly the most exhausting option, but she was definitely getting faster at it. That thought alone made the effort worth it, despite her dislike for rough exercise like this. At least she wasn’t sweating like Michael, she thought.
After another hour, Jordan and Rachel made them stop for the night. They agreed, breathing heavily as they were, and the four of them made their way out of the network of underground rooms to the dining hall. Dinner had officially ended nearly two hours ago, but there were still leftovers to be had, and they ate without complaint, wolfing down their food with the kind of exhausted energy that only a day’s hard work could bring.
Later, when she was laying on her bed in the dorms, Megan practiced swirling her mana around to different parts of her body, even sometimes lifting it away an inch or two. Just that effort alone nearly defeated her, and she lost a lot of mana once it reached a range beyond her control. How could Samuel have such an iron-clad control over his mana that he could reach ten feet away with ease? Would she be able to do it if she had five hundred years of practice? Did he even practice now, or was he already a master in all magic?
She turned over in her bed, and her thoughts strayed towards Eric. Something about him made a tight knot form in her stomach. It was probably the thought of this unknown approaching event, she thought. He’d been killed in his attempt to take it on. How could she possibly do any better? At least he was strong. She’d need strong allies to stand before her if she wanted to stand a chance.
Just like that, her eyes opened, and she found herself in his living room. For a moment, she thought that he was out again, but she heard the sound of water running from his kitchen sink. Not much had changed about the house since her last visit. The journal was gone, replaced with a small stack of printer paper and a pen. There was a message from Eric written there, clearly addressed to her.
Megan,
Just in case you show up when I’m not here again, leave me a note on one of these pieces of paper.
The sound of pattering feet drew her attention, and she turned to see Ehran padding over to her, his mouth open and tongue lolling. He was a little larger than before, she thought. He was almost as big as a normal dog. She knelt down and fondled his ears, smiling at the look of pure bliss on his face. Then she glanced up to see Eric exiting his kitchen, and gave a small wave.
“Hey, Eric,” she said. “I got some news for you.”
