Oh come on, kid. You’re gassed after that? That’s nothing! You’ll never kill a demon like this!
“You… call… that… nothing?” Ezra gasped as he barely managed to keep on his feet. The sun was finally rising and he was going to return to The Dragon’s Toenail after a strange, difficult morning, and it’d started with a rude awakening.
The ghost of the old man had woken him with a sudden, overwhelming feeling of terror. All he’d seen was snapping teeth in front of him, and he’d woken up with his heart thumping in his chest. Then, seeing the bearded, broad-shouldered ghost in front of him nearly forced Ezra to scream. Instead, Jormun spoke in his head.
You said you’ll follow me, and I said you’re going to become a Saint. People who become Saints don’t sleep in.
Ezra grumbled but got out of bed and peeked out of the door. Seeing that the entire inn was still dark, he turned back to the ghost and hissed, “I’m not sleeping in! It’s still before dawn!”
It’s winter. You should be done with your first set of training before the sun rises. Now get to it.
Instead of continuing to argue with the ghost person thing that was going to be his tutor from now on, Ezra got up. He didn’t have a good coat, and getting out of bed this early was going to end with the cold gnawing on his bones, but he could spare a single morning’s rest before he warmed himself by the fire in preparation for his duties the Madam was going to be assigning him. After all, if the ghost wasn’t all bluster, he could help Ezra become a Knight. According to the stories, even a Pseudo-Knight was respected and could easily be employed by a rich merchant or even a noble! And a Knight? They were welcomed everywhere they went. Ezra wouldn’t do that, he had too many debts to repay here in Villy, but that could help him negotiate for better terms with the Madam and keep creditors off their backs.
He put on his extra pair of socks in the hopes that it would keep his toes from going numb before layering both of his tunics under his jacket. The Dragon’s Toenail was warm enough, warmer than plenty of places he’d slept, but getting out from under his single blanket and moving around to get himself ready set his teeth to chattering.
You’re not going to put anything else on? It’s better to get warm as you exercise, but starting too cold is counterproductive, kid.
“Just call me Ezra, I’m an adult now,” he grumbled back. “And this is all the clothing I own. I live cold, and there’s nothing I can do about it. But I said I’d follow your instructions and I’m good for my word, so I’ll give it a day. Show me how I’m going to become a Knight, won’t you?”
The hairy old man laughed at that, and Ezra was left surprised again that the sound didn’t wake anyone else up. After all, it shook the walls! But the so-called “Weaponmaster” corrected him.
This isn’t going to be training to be a Knight, but a Weaponmaster and a Weaponsaint, kid, the old man replied, refusing to call Ezra by his name. And you’re not training to be either any time soon. I worked for 53 years to attempt to become a Weaponsaint and never managed to.
“Then why the hell am I freezing my ass off before the sun rises to get to a rank I’ve never heard of?” Ezra demanded.
To train to see aura and know what to do with it when you can, came the severe answer. Instead of the teasing tone that’d accompanied every one of Jormun’s words, he was deadly serious about this. Officially, there’re six ranks to Sainthood. You know that, right?
“Uh,” Ezra stalled to try to think about it. He’d never met even a Pseudo-Knight, much less someone as strong as this old man ghost claimed to be and seemed to be in that dream he’d had. And that didn’t give him information he didn’t have. The stories only ever talked about people who were at least Pseudo-Knights, and Saints were something new entirely to him! “A… apprentice, Pseudo-Knight, Knight, Master, Saint? Shit, that’s only five. Uh—”
Just say you don’t know something if you don’t know it, Jormun snapped. There’s nothing wrong with not knowing something, but don’t pretend to know or be something you’re not. Sometimes it’s harmless, sometimes it’ll get someone hurt or killed.
As Ezra nodded his head, Jormun continued talking.
The ranks to Sainthood are Initiate, Adept, Pseudo-Knight, Knight, Master, and Saint. The path through the ranks is reflective of your own understanding of aura, the development of your inner world, and aura’s effect on your inner world, but for now, you need to become an Initiate, the first stepping stone.
“And to become an Initiate, what do I need?” Ezra asked, getting more excited at getting more information. Maybe the old ghost could be trusted, and there was something beyond the Masters that he’d heard about? After all, it seemed like Jormun knew what he was talking about.
The distinction between an Initiate and a regular person, Jormun explained as he floated down the stairs and towards the door outside, is the ability to perceive aura. Mages call it mana while priests call it divine essence, but in the end, it’s all the same thing: the stuff that makes the world and everything in it live. You need to be able to sense it before you can use it and fill your internal world with aura and draw on that strength.
“What’s my internal world?” Ezra asked as he braced himself and walked out of the first floor’s bar. As snow flurried in the harsh wind, he hurried through the door and closed it behind himself. He shivered despite having braced himself and hunched his shoulders against the cold.
That’s a question for after you’ve actually felt aura, Jormun dismissed him. For now, you need to exercise and make sure that you can take advantage of aura when you can finally sense it.
“How is that supposed to help me sense it? You said that this training is to make me an Initiate. Don’t you need to get me a sword to practice with?” Ezra demanded, the fresh snow underfoot crunching and squeaking with each step as he followed the floating Weaponmaster. He mimed swinging a sword through the air as Jormun scoffed.
Exercising isn’t going to make you able to sense anything other than sore muscles, so don’t go thinking that running laps is going to make you an Initiate. Some people train for their entire lives and never get a sense for aura.
Like I said, this training is so that you can take advantage of the aura once you can sense it. It’ll take you a while, but you’ve gotta put on some muscle if you want to be able to be a Knight. After all, the aura shroud does plenty, but not everything. Your body needs to be able to support the flow of aura through you to your internal world and back out, and if you haven’t strengthened yourself, it’ll rip you right apart. A damn ugly sight, for sure.
Ezra felt his mouth fall open at that, and though he didn’t understand what an “aura shroud” was, instead of continuing to argue with Jormun, he sighed. “What do you want me to do?”
That was how Ezra found himself running laps around the small space behind the bar. Ezra kept himself in as good of shape as was easy, but Jormun was, at best, a beastly master, and no sooner had Ezra nearly collapsed from his running did he get a new assignment: pushups.
He quickly found a place under an eave without snow on the ground where he fell into a pushup position and did as many as he could, all the while, Jormun hovered nearby critiquing his form. After thirty, Ezra’s arms were shaking and he struggled to his feet.
Go to failure! Jormun barked.
“No,” Ezra shook his head. “I’ll be getting all my clothes wet and muddy for no reason if I do. I’m not going to make myself miserable for the rest of the day because you say so. I’m willing to exercise, but not to kill myself over it.”
To Ezra’s surprise, the old man’s thick moustache shifted at Ezra’s response. Though Jormun’s mouth wasn’t visible behind his bushy beard and moustache, it was obvious he was smiling.
You’ve gotta stand up for yourself, so seeing that, you’ll do alright. For now, give yourself just a little rest, then run another fifteen laps and do thirty pushups. And, Jormun continued, seeing the glint in Ezra’s eye, this isn’t something to stand up for yourself on. Push hard, and we’ll do more later today.
With a groan, Ezra did as he was told, and allowed himself only a couple minutes rest before he got back to running. Once he finished, his tunics wet with his sweat and his arms rubbery, he asked, “Why’re you always talking about having to kill demons?”
Because they’re more dangerous than anything else, of course. They’re what destroyed the world, like you saw, Jormun answered with a scoff. You probably won’t be able to kill one until you’re an Adept and can wield aura, but you need to keep in mind that’s your primary enemy.
“I’ve never heard of demons,” Ezra replied, keeping his voice low, now that other people were awake and nearby. “I haven’t heard of any wars, of any demons, or anything.”
Jormun went silent at that, and he looked down at Ezra as he stopped moving forward. Ezra nearly said something more, but then Matilda poked her head out of the door.
“What’re you doing out here right now? It’s cold enough to freeze your toes off,” she laughed.
“I figured I should exercise some,” Ezra answered without looking at the suspiciously silent Jormun. “As I get older, I should probably be strong enough to take care of fights that are harder than just cracking a drunk in the shin or nose.”
“Dreaming about being a Knight again?” She asked with a smile.
“Tilly,” Ezra protested, grateful his cheeks were already ruddy from the cold and hid the blush that burned his face. “It’s just the best way to get out of this place.”
“No,” Matilda replied, her mouth quirked up in a smile. “The best way to get out of here is to learn to read and get hired onto a caravan as a clerk or something. They at least get out of Villy and can make some real money.”
“I didn’t say the easiest, I said the best,” Ezra disagreed. “If you do things your way, you'll still be under someone’s control. You can’t leave a caravan so easily, but a Knight can go wherever they want. That’s what I’m goin for. The Kingdom wants Knights, Al Jibahia wants more Knights, people say even Shamshua and Adria want Knights! Instead of getting out of Villy and then being stuck to a random merchant, a Knight gets some real damn freedom.”
“And a Knight needs to be trained by a Knight, moron,” Matilda responded as they stepped into the building and Ezra walked to stand in front of the fireplace. “There aren’t many people around here who can read, but there are people who do. You seen a single Knight?”
Ezra waved her off as she was called to the back of the inn. His fingers burned as feeling returned to them, but it was a welcome sensation as the fire flickered in front of his face.
Why didn’t you just say you wanted to be a Knight? Jormun’s voice cut in from nowhere, and Ezra didn’t need to look at the ghost to know he was smiling, mocking him. The young man said nothing, and eventually Jormun continued, I should have guessed, given the fixation on being a Knight. That’s weak shit, where I’m from. But, if you wanna get there, you’ve gotta start with learning aura, and that’s what we’ll do now.