Chapter Twenty-Seven: Never Give A Sword

  “It’s a beautiful day outside. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and the breeze is wonderful. In conclusion, you will come outside with me because you look bored and you could use some training.”

  “No, thank you,” Elijah told the Ulfír, relaxing on his bed. “Sometimes, being bored is good.”

  “Well, Eva told me you needed something to do, since you didn’t want to relax today, so I’m taking you to the garden even if I have to drag you there.”

  “Try anything like that,” the princess replied, “And I’ll call the guards. You’ll be thrown in prison faster than you can say ‘Shut up, Amanda.’”

  “Shut up, Amanda,” Einar grinned. “Now, come on, it’s been a few days. You’ll get rusty unless you keep up your training.”

  Groaning, Elijah stood up and grabbed his sheathed sword. He still hadn’t had much of a chance to use it, and he wasn’t looking forward to fighting the much stronger wolf.

  “If I’m not sparring well today, it’s because I’m tired and you wasted my time already,” he said with trepidation.

  “I didn’t waste your time,” Einar pointed out. “You could’ve stopped it at any time.”

  “So could you,” Elijah scowled. “Now, let’s go before I change your mind. Prepare to get your ass handed to you on a silver platter.”

  “I’m a guard, I have to go easy on you,” the Ulfír replied. “But I like the optimism. It’ll just make the victory all the more sweeter.”

  Do you know how to swordfight, Elijah? Guide Amanda asked, and the princess nodded vigorously.

  Of course I do. I live for swordfighting. I die for swordfighting. I…um…fight for swordfighting.

  So no?

  Of course not.

  What were you in your world then? What type of person doesn’t know how to wield a basic sword? Were you a peasant?

  A normal person, everybody in my world at this point, and no, Elijah said, checking the answers off in his mind. In my world, we have some better weapons.

  Better than a sword? What could be better than a—oh Gods! Guide Amanda fell silent as she no doubt read Elijah’s mind and saw what was inside: visions of guns, bombs, and the deadliest weapons known to mankind. Those can’t be real. How do you make them?

  I’m not sure, Elijah responded.

  You could give Advantia unknown technology that gave us the power to bring the other nations to their knees and you don’t know how it’s made?

  It’s for the best, the princess replied. Those weapons bring about only destruction. Well, guns are cool but not bombs. There was one, called the atomic bomb, that could wipe out all life within an eight mile radius.

  Nott’s hairy balls! Guide manda cursed.

  What did you say?

  It’s a phrase. You’ve never heard it?

  Elijah shook his head as he passed through the exit of the palace down to the gardens, his imagination already running wild.

  Are you telling me that here in Advantia when you want to curse you talk about a God’s balls? He asked.

  Well, when you say it like that, it sounds weird, his Guide responded defensively.

  There’s no context where it doesn’t sound weird.

  Sometimes that’s all you can say, she replied. Sometimes there’s no other way to describe what you’ve just seen.

  “Unsheathe thine sword, milady,” Einar said, stopping a few paces in front of him and brandishing his steel sword that had already saved his life once. “I must test ye on yer prowess.”

  Obeying the Ulfír and bringing the sword out from its sheath, Elijah took his first look at the sword that was now his. Although he did not know much about swords, he could tell this one was of great quality. The steel was extremely sharp, as if enough to cut the air itself, and the hilt was a blinding shade of gold, the three tips ending in the dragon crest of Advantia.

  “Shall we start with Flowing River?” Einar asked, and the princess nodded on impulse, trying to position his hands on the sword in a way that felt natural.

  Keep your right hand near the top, there you go, and create some space between both hands. No, don’t keep them together, that’s it. Great, you’re almost one percent of the way to knowing how to start training, Guide Amanda offered. Flowing River is one the most popular Advantian stances for sword-fighting. Even in an army, many of the soldiers will band together and use Flowing RIver as a defensive strategy.

  Well, how am I supposed to do this? Will my muscle memory kick in?

  This time, that will not be enough, the Guide said. But you are on Level 3 for melee, so at least you will be able to learn quickly, and your ability with it will already be better than you think. Not to mention you have your reflexive shielding skill, so that will help.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  You’re saying I’ll get beat up?

  No, I would never say that. But yes, you will be. If you listen to me, though, you may save yourself some trouble. To start the formation, keep your right leg forward and let your other hang back. Place your sword hanging up instead of facing forwards. As soon as he attacks, step sideways and do not thrust towards him. Instead, use your sword to counter him.

  And how am I supposed to do that? Elijah asked.

  You’ll figure it out.

  Sighing, Elijah placed his right foot forwards and gripped his sword until it pointed directly towards the sky. Einar nodded towards him and held his sword at arms length as if it weighed nothing, yet the princess’ arm was already starting to hurt due to the weight of his.

  “Are you ready, your majesty, for a royal kicking in the ass?”

  “You’re not allowed to, as the monarch heir I demand you to let me kick yours.”

  Einar laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Fast as lightning, the Ulfír ran and swung at him, and he just barely swung backwards and to the left, bringing his sword in just in time to block the swing that would’ve cut her head off.

  Keep it smooth, and keep it defensive. Flowing RIver is about how you can defend the enemy’s attacks and attack only when he leaves an opening.

  Elijah barely had time to hear what his Guide said before he once again had to swing his sword up to block an attack but it still sent him reeling back a few steps, and he almost let go of the sword instinctively, but, narrowing his eyes, he smiled.

  I do feel like I can do more than I should be able to right now, he smiled. I think I can do this.

  The next swing from Einar was met with Elijah’s sword in midair, and this time, Elijah didn’t back off. He was already sweating, and from the Ulfír’s relaxed look, he was taking it easy, which he appreciated. The wolf was a guard, and judging by how quickly he had killed the Karthan, the princess wouldn’t last long against him if he took this seriously.

  Three more strikes they fought, and for those three thrusts Elijah held his ground. But the fourth finally got him, the sword catching him in the shoulder, and, although his Reflexive Shielding caused the sword to bounce off a little, it still left a scratch, and he stumbled back, clutching his scratch as it began to bleed a little.

  “Oh my Gods, oh Gods,” Einar gasped, rushing over to help her. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry, Amanda, are you okay?”

  Elijah stayed silent, watching as a slight trickle of blood seeped from his shoulder down his hand and onto the grass, staining it a delicious stain of red. The cut wasn’t deep, but it stung—at least you were wearing a sleeveless dress. There really was one thing to say in this circumstance.

  “Nott’s hairy balls, that hurt,” he breathed, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips, before he crashed to the ground and lay there, a smile spreading across his face.

  See? I told you! Isn’t it so much fun to say!

  “I hope that means you’re okay,” Einar replied, still looking concerned as he got down next to her. “I didn’t mean to, your highness.”

  “Fucking hell, Einar, it’s alright,” the princess replied. “Pain is just a gateway drug to peace and pleasure.”

  “What? Did you hit your head or something?”

  “My head is just fine,” Elijah replied. “At least, I think it is. Then again, how would I know? If my brain was hurt, it wouldn’t know it is, and since I think through my brain, I would never be aware of my disability. Then again, maybe we all are like this and just don’t know it.”

  “Shit, that’ll keep me up at night,” the Ulfír groaned. “I would rather not have thought about that.”

  “Oh, and have you ever thought that maybe you’re an experiment and everything around you is a lie, and you’re actually from a race so technologically advanced that it experiments with everyone as soon as they’re born and if they pass the test—which is this life—then they get to live a real life in their race but if they fail they die, so nothing you see is real, you’re the only genuine person here?”

  Einar’s jaw dropped, and he couldn’t help but let out a small grunt of confusion, curiosity, and fear.

  “What? How could—Amanda, you’re real, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. You’ll just have to trust me on this one.”

  “You’ve shattered every little bit of trust I had,” he responded. “I’ll never forget what you just said.”

  Neither will I, Guide Amanda groaned. Although I guess it couldn’t apply to me.

  Standing up, Elijah grabbed the Ulfír and dragged him back to stand where they had sparred.

  “Let me take your mind off all that shit,” he said. “Or are you too scared to fight the bleeding princess?”

  “Scared?” The Ulfír asked. “Existentially speaking, very. But if we’re speaking of fighting you, then I think being scared is impossible.”

  “Come at me then, prick.”

  He did, and she fell.

  Over.

  And over.

  And over.

  At the end of an hour or training, while Elijah wasn’t bleeding any more, he did have bruises all over his body, and he was sure there was one on his stomach that would turn a deep shade of purple. Every time he fell, the wolf would apologize profusely, and it was clear he meant it, and it would take the princess desperately repeating that he was fine for the Ulfír to calm down.

  Finally laying down, unable to move any longer, Elijah smiled softly.

  “We need to do this more often,” he said. “These bruises aren’t enough. I need more, until I can knock you on the ground.”

  “We might need to stay here for every minute of every day until one thousand years from now, then,” Einar teased, and Elijah playfully slapped his shoulder, before giving him a light punch, causing the wolf to fly backwards until he hit the ground ten feet away. “Hey!”

  “You deserved that,” Elijah replied. “Now you know not to make fun of me.”

  “No, now I know to make fun of you from further away,” Einar screamed, not bothering to get back up. “What I said was we might need to stay here forever before you'll be able to beat me.”

  “Motherfucker.”

  Einar laughed and then closed his eyes, sighing softly. “I love these moments, Amanda. You may have been rusty today with a sword—”

  “Watch it! I have a mean punch!”

  “I know, I’ve felt it. But I was saying, these moments, when we’re spending time, it’s all that matters. You’re sixteen, your highness, and in a few weeks, you’ll be crowned as the heir to the throne. Not too long from now, you’ll be so occupied, we won’t have this time anymore.”

  “Einar, I’ll never stop spending time with you.”

  “Promise, Amanda?”

  Elijah felt a twinge of guilt inside him again when he heard the name Amanda, but he stifled it.

  “I promise. Now come with me; I need to see the fifteenth district again. Plus, I need to talk with the Lord Thomas about something, so we need to stop by his place.”

  Grinning madly, Einar followed Elijah down the path, grabbing his sword from where it lay on the ground and sheathing it.

  “You know it’ll be a long walk, right?”

  “More time with you.”

  The Ulfír blushed once more.