Chapter 41: The Sword Master

  Manifesting training environment… Principles of Damarian Swordsmanship Module 1 of 5…

  The lights drew up on reality, like the stage of a play, as Riley and Tobias appeared side by side.

  “What is with our life and evil holodecks as of late?” Riley grumped. All traces of her armor were gone, leaving her only in her fur.

  Tobias, meanwhile, was dressed in simple, loose-fitting black linen.

  Sparky glowed to life in their shared vision. “Uh… What’s going on?”

  Riley popped, “What about being some kind of astral DNS firewall whosawhatsit or something?!?”

  The sprite’s colors dropped to a depressed blue, “It’s safe… I think… Accessing… Please stand by…”

  A prompt window popped up for both of them.

  Exit Training Environment Y/N?

  ‘Well, we aren’t trapped, and nothing is going all murder hobo on you…’ Sparky replied.

  As if in response, a kind of being Riley had never seen before appeared before them.

  Covered in brown tawny fur, they stood on two legs and were humanoid like Tobias, but that’s where all similarities ended, a long slender tail thrashed from their lower back, their hands ended in claws, and two long pointed ears pulled back from a face that looked almost as bestial as it did human, a black nose sat flat and split, with whiskers protruding out underneath. Ice blue eyes that would have looked at home on any cat regarded them with curiosity.

  A head full of silver hair swept back atop their head, framed by their pointed ears, and pulled into a ponytail that rested just to the right of a grey-bladed sword strapped to their back.

  “That’s an elf… You’re an elf…” Tobias stammered, his jaw going slack.

  “An astute observation. I am a mnemonic imprint of Master Ailun and will serve as your instructor for the duration of your lessons within this crystal. Now, take a blade from the training rack and follow me into the battle ring.” Turning away, a rack of weapons appeared to Tobias’ left.

  All were gray blades, but some were single while others were double-edged. Many were curved or meant for one hand, but others were claymores. Gone was the uniformity of the Ashen School, replaced with an almost dazzling variety.

  Tobias, spoiled for choice, boggled at the rack before choosing a model that almost perfectly matched his own, “I guess this will work.”

  “Cadet, my time may be infinite, but my patience is not. Quit wasting my time and yours,” Ailun snapped from the next room with cool, quiet precision.

  Tobias looked down at Riley and then shrugged, striding forward with his sword out at his side like it was an extension of his arm.

  Master Ailun was waiting in the center of a large ring that filled a large square room. In the corners were crystal towers that absorbed mana similar to the training rooms of the Valenheim academy, preventing magic from going wild.

  “It’s about time, so let us not waste any more. Show me your forms,” Ailun ordered, bowing his head in a slight nod before gesturing toward Tobias to come forward, drawing his sword with his left hand.

  It was an elegant, curving single-blade model that seemed much like a katana to Riley’s mind.

  Tobias entered the ring, bowed, and then brought his sword up centered before his eyes, before swiping it down, and began working through his rhythm.

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  Form 1… Form 2….

  With practiced grace, he moved through each one, all the way up through form ten. Finishing, he brought his sword back up between his eyes, before holding it out and bowing.

  A lone eyebrow ticked up on Ailun’s face, “That’s it?”

  Tobias regarded the elf with a look of confusion, “Yes, sir, forms one through ten”

  Ailun sighed, “I see we have a lot of work to do. Your form is rigid; it has no flow, no grace. You act like each action is disconnected from the next. Form should flow, young man, it should not jerk, it should not be wooden. You are not some golem; you are a Damarian caster. It should be as much a dance as an offensive art. Instead, you have merely offended me.”

  Tobias flushed red, “It was how I was taught, sir.”

  “Then you were taught poorly,” Ailun snapped.

  A brief flash of anger raced across Tobias’ face, as Riley felt the burning heat of rage well up within him, only to recede like a wave as he took a centering breath.

  “Then teach me better, sir. I’m willing to learn,” Tobias replied.

  “Very well, show me. Defend yourself,” Without pretense, Ailun charged, racing toward Tobias.

  Tobias braced, drawing into a defensive position, trying to read the elf as the distance closed between them.

  Ailun slashed downward, as Tobias arced up from form two, to deflect the blade, leaving him an opening for a counter strike, yet his blade missed by mere inches, sailing past, as the feint was revealed, but far too late. As Tobias’ blade arched up, exposing his left side, Ailun pivoted like a dancer, changing the angle of the blade, driving it up through Tobias’ lower ribs, impaling him through his side, and out his upper right chest.

  “Tobias!” Riley cried, as he vanished, only to appear next to her, uninjured and whole, but still gasping, as echoes of phantom pain sent him down on his knees, as Riley rocketed back.

  “What the fuck!” She cried as Tobias gasped for breath.

  “What is your issue? Were you not briefed? We train here, where death is a penalty, so you will survive out there where death is permanent!” Ailun snapped, “Are you certain you are not here to waste my time. Who cleared you for this course?”

  “Utred,” Tobias gasped, rising, with shaking legs, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

  “I might have known, he was always soft,” Ailun shook his head.

  “He’s dead. We weren’t cleared; we inherited. He taught us with the last of his energy that was holding him to this world,” Tobias replied.

  The image of Ailun turned pale, “And Damar?”

  “Gone for a thousand years, as are the fae. We now carry the last of their legacy… of your legacy,” Tobias replied.

  The image glitched, and then shattered, vanishing from the space, before rematerializing a few moments later.

  “I am a menomic imprint of Master Ailun. I see you’ve already selected your blade, and… Oh, it seems I encountered an issue and had to reinitialize. Loading records of previous progress, please stand by…”

  The image flashed a few times, as Riley and Tobias shared a look.

  “Should we continue with this?” She asked.

  “I know you might think I’m crazy, but this is an excellent opportunity. I lasted all of two seconds, even with all my practice. This is a way for me to get stronger. Stronger means safer in our world,” Tobias replied.

  “But he ran you through. I don’t want to see you die!” Riley quaked.

  “I didn’t die, though, I just learned something. Think about it, Riley, this is a safe place where I can make mistakes and pound them out. I’ll be ok, I promise,” he went down on one knee and put his hand behind her ears.

  “Well, ok, but I can’t watch this. I’m going to blip out for now, ok? Have fun dying,” she shivered again, as Tobias felt a deep nausea-like unease quake within her.

  “Sparky, exit!” She cried, before muttering under her breath, “If it’s going to act like an evil holodeck, it’s going to get treated like one.”

  In a moment, Riley was gone, as Ailun’s image solidified, “I see we have a lot of work to do. Are you ready to begin?”

  Tobias grinned, pushing all his misgivings from his mind and held his sword at the ready.