The blade came for Leif’s head.

  He ducked and it cut through the air above him. In the same moment Leif struck out with his own blade, at the unguarded torso before him. Hestan danced away, creating space between them. “You’re good! Thank goodness for that.”

  “Well I just lost a few hairs on my head thanks to you.” Leif patted his head.

  “You have plenty to spare. Almost had me with that last one.”

  Leif appreciated the compliment. Hestan was better than good and Leif was weary of being beaten at everything. Hestan reengaged and their swords clashed again.

  “Enough. My turn. Leif, take a rest.” Vigo already had his sword out. He was running them through a rapid rotation of duels.

  Leif stepped away and Hestan turned towards the advancing Vigo. Vigo feinted then slapped Hestan across both his exposed legs with the flat of his blade.

  “Oh come on, the legs Vigo?”

  Vigo smirked and continued on. He tapped Hestan’s blade away and cut in. His bladework was precise and methodical. When he engaged with a sword, Vigo seemed to be in his own world, where time was slower for him. Where each attack or defense was a mathematical exercise in efficiency and lethality. Vigo sidestepped Hestan’s next attack and used two fingers to catch the flat of Hestan’s blade. He reversed his own blade and hooked it behind Hestan’s cross-guard, with his fingers still positioned as the lever at the end of Hestan’s blade, he popped the hilt from Hestan’s hand. Hestan’s blade fell to the grass as he yanked a dagger from his belt and cut towards Vigo’s neck. Vigo ducked, hooked under Hestan’s arm with his own then slipped behind the crown prince. He locked his left arm around Hestan’s torso while his right pressed the flat of his sword against the prince’s neck.

  Vigo disengaged, “You’re up Leif.”

  Leif stepped up while Hestan picked up his sword from the ground and dusted himself off, “bloody wizard.”

  “Magic,” Vigo said it to Leif as he tipped his sword up.

  Leif reached for his magic. For all his practicing, connecting with his magic could still be troublesome.

  As commonly happened when he first reached for it, nothing appeared. He closed his eyes. He took a breath and shook himself. Perhaps he was still waking up after a night of poor sleep. He clenched and released his fists. Come on. Vigo still watched him and the pressure made focusing difficult.

  Finally the portal within him opened and power flowed into him. It first came through in a trickle, then a stream, then a flood. He felt his power course through him, brimming up through his head. It felt like the warm sun on his skin the morning after a cold night. He released a breath in satisfaction and looked back up at Vigo. He grinned eagerly but Vigo didn’t give him a chance to enjoy the moment. Vigo’s attack came at his head. In the throes of his magic, Vigo’s movements were fast but Leif was able to follow them and react. It was like time had slowed for Leif.

  Leif moved to parry but the tip of Vigo’s sword whipped around it and seared towards Leif’s exposed chest. He sprung away just before the sword reached him. Vigo smirked and pressed on. His attack came in a flurry. Even with magic enhancing Leif’s strength and speed, he could barely keep up with Vigo. Leif frantically defended or avoided each blow as Vigo didn’t give him a chance to attack. The wizard’s speed was incredible and yet it seemed so easy for him. As if Vigo were barely scratching the surface of his own power.

  The three of them cycled through bouts until Leif and Hestan were thoroughly exhausted. Leif stepped up for his final bout against Vigo. The wizard didn’t seem remotely tired and he began his attack almost lazily. Leif lunged forward, trying for once to catch the wizard off guard. Somehow, Vigo’s blade appeared just in time to parry Leif’s harmlessly away. Vigo’s face showed almost no effort. He followed his parry up by stepping forward and slapping Leif’s sword hand with his open palm. Leif cut back but Vigo pranced out of reach. As he tried to lunge again he found the tip of Vigo’s sword brushing against his neck.

  Vigo chuckled, “That’s it for today. Leif, grab your things and come with me. Hestan, you’re welcome to come watch the show.”

  “I’m afraid I can hear the shower in my room calling me so unfortunately I must depart.”

  Leif could feel the pull of his own room. When he’d entered the night before, a fire had been lit and the space was warm and comfortable. After his embarrassing moment with Karalee, he’d rushed to bathe. Weeks of travel, with fire and horse combined with clothing that had been soaked, he wished he’d bathed before being introduced to the Danarian court.

  When he’d entered his room, there had been a tub near the far wall. The stone bricks of the wall opened into a kind of small half-open pipe which protruded from the wall above the tub. A large iron wheel was mounted on the wall next to it. Leif had frowned in confusion when he saw the same stone spout and wheel protruding out over the empty floor. It was near the tub but higher on the wall and clearly separate. Curiosity drove him to that wheel and he turned it slightly. A thin stream of steaming water flowed out of the pipe and onto the floor. The water splattered but eventually flowed to the corner where it drained into a small mesh hole. He turned the wheel as far as it would go and the thin stream turned heavy. It rushed off the pipe and poured onto the floor. Incredible. He didn’t have to fill the tub. He could wash with the water running over him. Danaria was a miracle. It was one miracle after another.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Despite the warm room and the comfortable bed, Leif hadn’t slept well. Karalee had consumed his mind. Her face, her smile, her body, her laughter coursed through his mind like a storm. He hoped he hadn’t sounded foolish to her. He was surprised to realize that for the moment, he didn’t care that Magnus and Isabella may be there plotting ways to kill him. He couldn’t make himself care with Karalee to occupy his mind.

  Vigo led Leif out of the palace courtyard to the edge of the lawn in the palace gardens. They stood on soft grass before a cascading series of pools. Water poured down from the palace wall into the first pool then flowed down in gentle waterfalls into each one subsequently. Openings in the pool walls created streams that flowed through the gardens and small bridges of wood or stone crossed over each. The sky glowed with the dawn but the sun wasn’t yet visible over the water or through the morning Danarian haze.

  Leif pulled his cloak tighter around him against the morning chill. His body was cooling now that he wasn’t moving. Vigo had left his cloak off and was down to a sleeveless shirt.

  “Morning workout. It's always good to wake up the body and the mind.”

  “Didn’t we just do our morning workout? What are we doing now?”

  “Magic.” He said it nonchalantly, then Vigo leaped up to the stone wall of the nearest pool. It was an impossible leap, beyond his full height. Vigo continued. Each step was a leap upwards to the edge of the next stone wall. Vigo jumped until he reached the palace wall which wrapped around the top of the great hall. He crouched and looked back at Leif expectantly.

  Leif channeled his magic. It flowed into him easier this time since he’d just been using it. He could feel weariness and hunger already setting in. He focused his attention on the wall of the first pool before him. The top of the wall was level with his eyes. He’d have known the jump was impossible if he hadn’t just seen Vigo launch himself up with multiple impossible leaps and onto the palace wall.

  Looking back at the palace made him wonder where Karalee’s room was and if she could see him. The thought came to him that she could be up there, about to watch him fail. He tried to focus on the wall. He didn’t know what he should be doing, so firmly in the throes of his magic, he jumped.

  He performed a perfectly ordinary, non-magical jump. He didn’t know exactly how far his feet came off the ground but he was confident that his magic hadn’t helped him in the least. He tried again. Then again. He tried pushing himself off the wall with his boot to no avail. He didn’t know how to get his magic to react, to help him. He was frustrated by the lack of direction from Vigo.

  Leif saw Vigo move again and he stopped his futile efforts to watch. The wizard leapt up onto the roof of the great hall. He leapt again, disappearing from view before reappearing on the side of the main keep. His feet planted on a stone windowsill. He paused only for an instant, then he leapt to a balcony. Then up to a tower window.

  The wizard continued leaping upwards between two towers back and forth. His last jump took him up nearly to the edge of the tallest tower. From his distance, Leif could just barely see Vigo’s fingers reach up and narrowly catch the edge of the tower parapet. He hung there with one hand and looked down at Leif. Vigo then reached his other arm up then pulled himself over the edge of the parapet.

  Bloody hell. Leif’s amazement didn’t help him when he tried jumping again. He was pretty sure his own jumps were getting worse. Vigo climbed back up onto the parapet and stepped off. He dropped swiftly until he was out of sight. Leif saw him again when he landed on the palace walls before he leapt down the series of pools before him. Vigo stood on the wall that Leif had been trying to jump to. “What’s the problem?”

  “You haven’t shown me how to do that.”

  “You’ve done it before, with your sword. It’s the same thing. Your magic responds to your will. Merge them together, will your power into your legs and jump.”

  Vigo turned around and began his series of impossible leaps up the walls again. Leif began his own efforts again. He felt foolish. He was standing, surrounded by a beautiful garden, just…jumping. He felt some guilt for smashing the perfectly manicured grass beneath his feet. He hoped Karalee was still asleep.

  Vigo returned again. Light beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to jump.”

  “You have hold of your magic but you’re not using it. Where is your mind today, Leif? You’re not focused. Abandon your thoughts and fears and focus on the one thing you desire to happen. Then do it.”

  Leif was frustrated but he listened to Vigo. Thoughts of Karalee could wait. Perhaps looking a fool for a time was the price of progress. He pushed all thoughts away and forced power into his legs. He imagined his magic pooling in and saturating his muscles. He took a deep breath, and he jumped.

  Cold air rushed past Leif’s face as he lurched upwards. The force of it surprised him. In the air, he felt his body tip sideways and backwards. He kicked his legs and waved his arms to try to right himself in the air to no avail. He splashed down into the first pool.

  The pool was shallow and surprisingly not frigid for which Leif was thankful. He was soaked but pride surged through him. He laughed as he looked back at Vigo. Vigo smiled up at him approvingly and with perhaps a hint of mockery. “Now, do it again until you can land on the wall. When you’re done, meet me for breakfast.”

  ***

  Exhausted, starving, and wet, Leif walked back to the palace. He’d fallen into the pool or come up short several times before finally catching himself on the pool’s edge. Then he’d kept going. He didn’t want to get it once and leave only to forget how he’d done it on later attempts. He’d jumped until he could land on the pool’s wall without losing his balance. Pride in his ability to jump seemed a funny concept to him but he reveled in it nevertheless. Although, he couldn’t so much as draw another sliver of his magic.

  Leif bathed and changed into new clothes that someone had delivered to his room. The clothes were finely made, though not so formal as dinner attire. He wanted to rest. He could have collapsed back into bed but his hunger drove him. He knocked on Vigo’s door and the two descended to breakfast.

  There were place settings for just the two of them at a large, ornate table in the dining hall. As soon as they sat, doors opened and two stewards entered bearing plates of food; pork and beef and currants and eggs. There was bread and butter and biscuits, sweet cakes and honey, with pitchers of goat milk. Leif waited until Vigo began, then he attacked the feast before him. His weariness was forgotten as his hunger clawed at his insides.

  “A little decorum, Leif. You never know who’s going to enter.”

  Leif slowed down, slightly embarrassed, slightly annoyed. He was buttering another piece of warm bread, when King Harald entered. He bore a thick stack of letters under his arm. Leif dropped his bread and he and Vigo both stood.

  “Good morning, Vigo, Leif. When you’ve finished. Meet me in my study, both of you.”